# Small Beginnings - Final Update 6/18/04, ITEOTWAWKI, AIFF!



## Enkhidu

Welcome to the Small Beginnings Story Hour!

While putting together our entry for the recent Wizards of the Coast open call for submissions, my team and I decided to keep some of the creative juices flowing by putting together a story account of our current campaign. I, being a longtime lurker on the ENWorld messageboards and avid reader of the story hour forum, suggested that we post our results here, in true ENWorld cliffhanger style. My DM jumped at the chance, and here's the result.

Characters in this campaign were created with the standard 4d6 for ability scores, and every player had to be connected with the village in which the action starts (for a period of at minimum one year of game time before play started). The idea was to see if small town heroes could eventually become the stuff of legend. WARNING: SINCE THIS STORY HOUR USES SOME OF THE IDEAS PRESENTED IN SOME OF THE WOTC MODULES IT WILL CONTAIN SPOILERS. The Sunless Citadel was used by the DM as a springboard for the action, so be prepared for some familiar names and faces as the action progresses.

This thread has been edited and some posts have been pruned. If you posted in this thread, please do not be alarmed.

Enjoy!



*	*	*	*	*



For once Pack had nothing to do. There were plenty of things that needed to be done with the festival only a few weeks away, but few offered Pack the audience and attention that his self esteemed sorely needed. The half-elven tavern owner Lizon was busy preparing the mid-day meal for the upcoming rush, while the few patrons of the Shimmering Sword were engrossed in discussing the day's farming news. He briefly considered helping Worm in the cellar but quickly dismissed the idea because of the number of spiders that tended to frequent the stores of ale. 

While he tried to decide on what to do Pack wandered to the large bay window that spanned the front of the tavern. Outside, the streets of Icemist were abuzz with activity. Children scampered around the Tangle Pole, evading the imaginary spider webs as festival workers toiled above them on a makeshift scaffold. Brother Theo called out a greeting to the village constables Finfo and Dueca. Pack could imagine the serious nature of the issue that the aging widower was about to confront the two law officers with. The ex-priest was all business when it came to the running of his brother's estates. 

Just as he was about to turn his attention back to his dilemma, Pack noticed the young woodsman Ander and his leprous friend cut across the square toward Buried Dwarf's Drygoods. Durnan, the stores owner and namesake, was on the porch waving hello. The olive skinned woodsman nodded back in reply but his gaze was clearly distracted by the young maiden Aurora who was exiting the store. The bandage wrapped beggar broke stride from Anders side to take his customary panhandling position outside the tavern as Aurora's strawberry blonde locks disappeared around the corner. 

Lizon's musical voice pulled him back into the present. "Pack! Pack, honey! Be a dear and help your brother down in the cellar."

"Yes ma'am." Pack called back. Having Lizon call him honey always brightened the orphaned halfling's day. Pack didn't know how much help he would be to the large half-orc who was stacking kegs of ale but he vowed to do his best as he skipped off to help his adopted brother. 

Pack rolled under the bar stop like a circus performer practicing for a tour through the capitol city of Tor and stopped as his eyes came to rest on the legendary sword that hung behind the bar. The great hand and a half sword had rested behind the bar ever since Pack could remember, a keepsake of Lizon's fallen husband: its cold steel a reminder of the great hero that had once wielded the massive blade. As his hand reached for the cellar post, an
azure glow erupted across the halfling's face. Looking up, Pack noticed that the blue glow bathed the entire room - to all in attendance it seemed that the Shimmering Sword had awakened.

The stunned halfling slowly peered over the bar to see if everyone else was beholding this spectacle. The look of awe that accompanied the silence was enough to tell the young bard that he was not alone in his amazement. Each face was mesmerized by the glowing blade, but when he finally turned to eye Lizon, a look of utter horror was all that greeted him. 

Her words were barely audible to Pack's ears but they nearly knocked him from his feet.  

"We're under attack."


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## Enkhidu

Thanks for the comments so far. I wasn't sure how this would be received (I know there are more than a few story hours that have used the WotC modules).

Spider Jeruselam: You'll find that there are quite a few changes between this story hour and a direct run through of the Sunless Citadel. If I can, I'll get the campaign DM to post more details.

By the way, there's no real Sunless Citadel spoilers this time.

Anyway, back to the story...


*****

Pack felt the rumble before he heard it. A flagon trembled and tipped over at a nearby table, and all about the tavern patrons grabbed for chairs and walls to steady themselves. Then the ground itself began to shake violently as the sound of thunder rolled in from outside. Pack made his way over to the bay window; outside, the drygoods store was shaking as badly as the tavern, with shingles falling from the overhanging porch rook.

The children so recently playing around the Tangle pole were huddled together, crying out in fear for help. Beneath them, the ground bucked and they were thrown from their feet. Then the road itself collapsed, and the children were swallowed up by the earth. All that was left was a hole in the middle of the street – a hole that was soon overfull with beasts the like of which Pack had never seen.

They were small, about the size of Pack himself, and scaly. Some clambered out of the pit using each other as ladders with clubs and spears in hand, while others simply rode out on monstrous ants that held weapons of their own in vaguely humanoid limbs. Pack shook his head in disbelief and looked a second time. The smaller beasts seemed to have doglike muzzles, and began yipping back and forth between each other, while the ants were not ants at all, but seemed like some insect version of one of the centaurs that Pack had heard about from Sir Thadius. Then the quaking of the earth stopped suddenly, and the dust began to settle.

Across the street, Pack saw Ander burst through the door of Buried Dwarf Drygoods with his walking staff in hand. The woodsman shouted something Pack couldn’t hear and charged the nearest raider. His sudden rush caught the kobolds off guard and his staff found its first target with a wooden thud that Pack could almost make out from across the street. The woodsman wasn’t done yet though and leapt from the porch right into the midst of the screaming pack with his weapon whirling around like a protective shield keeping his attackers at bay. Pack wanted to scream at Ander to look out, but it was too late. Two kobolds had flanked the young ranger and before he could react they had him ensnared in a vine meshing net so tight that his staff was pinned against his side: useless.

Pack had to look away in horror at the fate of the young warrior and his view was met with a much better sight. Brother Theo and the two constables had formed a triangle in the streets center and the bodies of the dead raiders were pilling up around them. The three men showed numerous wounds, especially the older priest who wasn’t fitted with protection like that of the two law men. Brother Theo was dealing death with every blow of his makeshift club and shouting out praises to Zuras, though the two militia men were looking winded from years of peaceful living. The grizzled priest’s voice carried over the sounds of battle, “Push the buggers back where they came from, men! They’re only kobolds!” However, even as well as the three valiant men were doing, it appeared to Pack that there were too many of the attackers and they were only holding their ground: not advancing on the raiders. They would soon be overwhelmed by superior numbers.

In the middle of the two groups, Pack saw a half dozen of the smaller beasts, the ones that Brother Theo had called kobolds, grappling with festival workers beneath the collapsed scaffolding. As he watched, the creatures began dragging workers, some of them still fighting, toward the pit. Nearer to the tavern, he saw another pair of kobolds, ones riding the ant-centaurs, reach into large sacks strapped to the makeshift saddles and pull out full flasks, pausing to unstopper the tops. Seconds later, they threw those bottles up, onto the roof of the Shimmering Sword, each leaving a trail of black liquid that Pack quickly realized was pitch. Another centaur mounted beast threw a newly lit torch up after the makeshift firetraps.. 

Pack glanced over at his adopted mother, “Lizon! I think they’ve just set the roof on fire!” 


*****

By the way, now that the messageboard  problems seem to be over, I hope to hear anyone who's got feedback!

Constructive criticism is always welcome!


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## Enkhidu

Thanks a lot for the comments!

I have to say, though, that this story hour is not a one man piece - this is actually the campaign account of the group (with creative license, of course), and the actual writing is a collaborative effort between myself and the DM of the group. Lately, its been that one of us writes a passage, the other spices it up, and then we fold it into our collective voice - so far it seems to be working pretty well.

I think my other half will be posting relatively quickly - he posts under the handle "dshai527" so look out for his posts - he'll also be able to clarify why he made certin DMing choices for the campaign.

We'll try and post something either tonight or tomorrow!


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## dshai527

Hello everyone and thank you for the great posts. For those of you who don’t know and judging by the attendance you don’t, I am co-author and DM for the Small Beginnings Story Hour. 

I am here to help guide you through your journey into our gaming world. I will try to answer any question you might have on the story or my interpretation of the Sunless Citadel. 

A little background to start you off. We started this campaign about 6 months ago when I was just entering my last two quarters at Wright State University. I knew that I was not going to have the time to devote to a campaign started from scratch. I also wasn’t comfortable with the encounters that I had used in the last campaign I ran, and thought it would be nice to see how a module matched up player levels to DC ratings and encounter levels. I had heard good things about the Sunless Citadel and once I read through the module I knew I could tweak it to match the campaign story I had in mind. So I decided to use the dungeon maps and encounters from the module but place it in my own world and use my own plot and plot hooks. The basic story is still intact but the reasons behind the story have all been changed.

That being said, I hope you enjoy our little twist on the classic story of the Sunless Citadel. 

Oh, one last note. I would be more than happy to supply character stats or player profiles (not character, read the story for that) to anybody who wants them. Enjoy!


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## Enkhidu

And it continues...


*****

Lizon had made her way over behind the bar, and was holding the great, glowing sword in one hand, its tip resting on the floor. With the other hand she was helping Worm out of the cellar, his hulking frame filling the room. The half-orc took one look out of the window and his black eyes widened in surprise. 

Lizon pushed the hilt of the azure blade in his huge hands, “They need you out there. Take this and go.” With a nod, Worm rushed through the door, intercepting the howling creatures rushing the tavern, the Shimmering Sword blazing a bright blue light visible even in the sun. Pack followed closely on his heels. 

Once out on the porch, Pack slowed to a halt and tried to make sense of the chaos around him. In front of him, Worm cleaved a path of destruction large enough to fit a horse through. Brother Theo and the guardsmen sang out in joy as the half-orc fought his way toward them. With renewed vigor, the four warriors began a push toward the main force as Theo belted out the first verse of the battle hymn, Trennor’s Triumph.

Pack’s heart swelled with pride at his brother’s battle skills, but his spirits quickly fell when he remembered Ander’s plight. He quickly caught sight of the captured warrior as he was being hoisted toward the pit. The woodsman was squirming and wiggling in the grip of his captors but to no avail, and it appeared to Pack that Worm and the others could not reach him in time. The kobold band grappled their prize and raised him above their heads one last time before they pitched him into the pit. Just as the scaly beasts set themselves to release their catch, the lead kobold’s eyes widened in amazement as a bolt of energy shaped like a snapping dragon maw engulfed his chest in an explosion of violet flames.  At the same moment, Durnan flew out of his store, rumbling forward on his peg leg and launching himself on top of the stunned monsters. With their comrade fallen and the added weight of the dwarf, the kobolds collapsed in a panicked heap. Through the mass of bodies Pack could see that Ander had quickly drawn his long knife and had begun sawing his way toward freedom. 

From across the chasm another dragony missile dodged around the flailing shopkeeper to explode into another of the kobold raiders. Pack scanned the battlefield and was quite surprised to see that Aurora had lined up another target as yet a third snapping dragon head leapt from her fingertips. Even more surprising to the young halfling was the sight of the leprous beggar just yards behind the sorceress leaping nearly 10 feet into the air and vaulting himself gracefully atop the tavern roof. The bandaged figure moved with amazing speed to control the fire before it could spread, kicking the straw from the tavern top. 

An unearthly howl snapped Packs head back toward the fray and he just managed to avoid a dagger swipe aimed at his head. Pack’s life flashed before his eyes. While his mind reeled in panic his body reacted of its own accord. Using the speed learned from hours of sleight of hand tricks, Pack’s lucky dagger had found its way from his belt into the kobold’s awaiting throat. Blood trickled down the stunned halfling’s arm as the lifeless kobold slipped off the dagger’s edge and onto the crimson stained street. 

Shouts of joy erupted from the buildings all around the amazed bard as the kobolds broke formation and scampered back down the open hole, stopping only long enough to haul their fallen brothers back with them. The ant riders held the defenders at bay with long spears and exploding casks, covering the escape of their cohorts. Just as Icemist’s warriors gathered themselves for a final push against the raiders, the last of the centaur ants scuttled down into the pit. Then the village’s defenders were thrown to the ground as the earth bucked again and the pit collapsed in on itself.

The thick cloud of dust settled slowly over the village; the silence that accompanied it was deafening. It was then that Pack heard the first of the plaintive cries: “My babies! They took my babies!”


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## Enkhidu

*And this is for chtulhuftaghn...*

Just something to tide our readers over till after the 4th...




Interlude…


Booted feet strode purposefully over the uneven ground. The normal underbrush of the Orloff’s Wood had thickened much more this season than had thought it would. Beren Trapper scratched at his chin through his sparse blond beard in puzzlement. He had been working the trap lines for a about a week, and had yet to get one pelt.

Most of his snares were tripped, but empty – probably the work off that meddlesome foreigner – but a few had actually been overrun with a thick, thorny growth. Of those, not one had been tripped. _That dark skinned woodsman is behind this. He has to be_, he thought.

Beren checked his trap line map, unfolding the rough cloth, and saw he had only 3 more traps before heading home. Once he crossed the rise he would be able to cut across a grassy field, check the remaining sites, and be home before dusk. He would even have time to rest in the sun for a bit, probably in the knoll up ahead. 

The oldest Trapper son liked nothing more than to bask in the sun, boots off, and grip the growing grass between his toes. It made him feel like a child again; one who didn’t have to worry about responsibility. He closed his eyes and sniffed the air, and the scent of wildflowers from the field ahead welcomed him. With a soft smile, he picked up his pace and trotted to the top of the hill and the edge of the wood, anxious to see the sun playing across the open green.

 Instead he looked onto a field choked with a thorny thicket grown waist high that covered the ground as far as the eye could see.


End of Interlude…


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## Enkhidu

Care for a little more?

This one's a little longer - hope you still enjoy it!


*****



The Shimmering Sword was full to its newly scorched rafters within minutes of the meeting bell being rung. Pack scurried around like a rat trying to keep everyone's glass full of water or fresh bread on the tables. Lizon toiled behind the bar keeping everyone organized and calm until the Reeve called the meeting to order. The huge sword hung behind the tavern owner's shoulder, once again safe in its scabbard, but the eyes of everyone in the room quietly watched and waited to see if the blue glow would return. 

Pack was in the kitchen when he finally heard the gavel strike the central post calling the meeting to order. The small halfling had to prop himself up in the service window just to see the main stage, but he was rewarded with the best view in the house, high enough to see everything and everyone. Cris banged an empty mug on the table, and a hush settled over the crowd gathered in the Shimmering Sword. Pack looked around from his seat; it seemed as if every person in Icemist and the surrounding farms had come for the meeting.  

Cris cleared his throat and began. "By now, those of you who weren't here for the trouble have heard about it, so I'll keep this short. Raiders have attacked Icemist, and have taken several of our men, as well as six children." A murmur swept through the crowd, and Pack heard the sound of women, and not a few men, weeping. The Reeve had fire in his eyes as he continued: "Our streets are broken, our houses damaged, and our granary has been emptied." Another murmur went up, not many people had known this, and an empty granary meant empty bellies over the coming winter.

Pack’s attention wandered as Cris outlined the recovery plan: defense against secondary attacks that the kobold raiders might launch before the barbarian tribes march in for the festival took most of the time. The halfling spied Aurora twirling her strawberry hair around her finger and whispering to her father with a determined look on her face. He also saw the woodsman Ander leaning against the wall behind the crowds and near the side entrance; the door behind him was barely open and it seemed to the small minstrel that another set of eyes watched from just outside the door. Worm stood near Lizon behind the bar; the half-orc already had a backpack filled with supplies and a small black trunk waiting at his feet. Pack’s eyes finished the sweep of the room coming to rest on the figure to the right of Cris, a man who made Pack's stomach churn just by looking at him. Abil, the sheriff of the small village, was not a well respected man. He often used his position to intimidate the citizens and bully the council. Some whispered that he actually ran a smuggling operation for Duke Therolgold and his allies, financing their attempt to wrest power from King Trennor VIII: Tor’s boy king.

Pack barely restrained himself from booing when Cris gave over the gavel to Abil and the foppish nobleman began to speak.

"Dearest friends," Abil began, his voice oozing across the room. "I know we are all concerned with our individual futures and the survival of Icemist as a whole, but I assure you we still have the means to secure this town and prepare for festival. Our lost grain can be replaced by bartering with the farmers in Dalendale, and my auxiliary force of King’s Men will soon be arriving from our noble capitol. Taxes will, of course, need to be collected early to pay for both the grain and the additional men required to protect the festival from more raiding parties.”

A rumble spread through the crowd at that remark. Everyone present knew that most of the taxes would go straight to Abil’s purse right before festival. The rumble continued, and Pack knew that the sheriff was in danger of losing control of the crowd. With a knowing glance at the restless throng Abil went on, “What concerns me the most, as I’m sure it does you, is the fate of the children and our fellow townsfolk who are captives of those bloodthirsty beasts. It is because of this concern that I ask a grave question. Who among you can overcome his fear and put the life of his fellow man before his own and venture after these foul vermin to rescue our friends and family?"

Abil's speech was interrupted by a boot to the front doors. With a crack, they swung wide and a brisk wind cut through the room. Brother Theo marched into the tavern, and every head turned, each gaze draping over him like the burnished mail shirt that now covered his chest. A round shield emblazoned with the blue lighting bolt of Zuras, the Storm Lord, hung over his left shoulder and beneath it a large grain flail peeked out. Pack was certain that its head was made of steel instead of wood.

Brother Theo’s voice was quiet, but filled with a power that Pack had never heard from the old priest. "I think, good Sheriff, that everyone in this room would be willing to go. Excepting yourself, of course.” The ice in his voice froze Abil’s face in a mirthless mask. “The real question is which of you will the council allow to accompany me, so that we might teach these raiders a permanent lesson about kidnapping our friends and our children, storm willing.”

It seemed to Pack that a clap of thunder answered the priest's call. The halfling started at the sound, but it actually come from Worm’s hand slamming against the bar, his hamfist leaving an impression in the stained wood. "I'm going!" the huge half-orc simply stated, and Brother Theo nodded approvingly. Pack's heart once again swelled with pride at his brother's action, and before he knew what he was doing Pack heard himself volunteer: "I’m going too”

A shy, thin voice rose from the throng, “I shall go as well.” Aurora stepped forward, gripping her father's hand for support. "The raiders were speaking in dragon tongue. It’s been a while, but I can speak their language. I have other gifts as well; I was trained at the university in Tor, and found I can do things that most others there cannot. Please, let me to go." The quite rumble of the crowd broke as everyone began speaking at once, astounded that the slip of a girl would want to do something so dangerous.

"Hold! Silence!" Abil yelled, banging the gavel again on the table. The noise quickly stopped as all eyes turned back to the sheriff. A tight smile appeared on his lips as he turned and faced the young lass. "Of course the council will allow you to go, Aurora. I have heard vivid accounts of your colorful 'gifts' during the initial raid, and with your linguistic skills you will be indispensable to this expedition." The red haired girl, let out a slow sigh, and Pack realized she had been holding he breath.

Pack turned back to Abil, and was met with a predatory smile. “And Pack, our little helper, will, I’m sure, be of great aid to you, Brother.” Abil’s black eyes bored into the halfling and Pack felt the urge to run, but his legs would not move. Only when Abil closed his eyes and breathed a deep sigh did the halfling relax.

“But you,” Abil turned toward Worm, “cannot go.” He turned back toward the crowd, searching for support. “He is the strongest among us, and we will need him here until the King’s Men arrive. If the raiders should come again and he is not here, you will be overrun. Of that, I am sure.” The sheriff turned back toward the looming half-orc, whose large knuckles were turning white as he gripped the bar, wood creaking in his grasp.

“And you,” he continued quietly, with a shake of the head, “I am ashamed that you would endanger Icemist like this. Would you leave us defenseless now that Dueca and Finfo are injured and unable to resume their duties?” He stared at Worm as the half-orc’s face flushed crimson, and though the crowd nodded in agreement, Pack could see Abil’s eyes taunting his adopted brother, daring him to say differently. Lizon laid a hand on Worm’s shoulder, and the half-orc calmed visibly while murmurs of agreement swept over the crowd in a wave. With a grunt, Worm hefted his pack, left the trunk at his feet, and silently retreated back toward his room, accompanied by the murmured approval of the host.

Pack's mood soured as he looked at his brother’s retreating back. Then Brother Theo stepped forward again. "Since you will not allow Worm to travel with us, I ask that Ander join us. He is not of the village proper, and he has aided us in the past.” His face scanned the gathering. “How many of us would have gone hungry last winter without half dozen deer he brought in and gave to us? None of us knows this wilderness better then him, except for maybe Icemantle, and no one has seen him in years.” He turned again to face the olive skinned woodsman. “What say you Ander?"

 Pack saw the entire room turn to face the young man with the drooped moustache whose only reply was a slight nod of his head as he moved to exit the side passage. He paused slightly in the door and added in a thick accent, "I will return in an hour. Be ready to leave. We will need speed if we are to follow these creatures before they can cover their tracks. Horses would be useful for those who wish to go. And be prepared, there are worse things than those raiders out there."  Then he was gone, and without a formal dismissal, the crowd began to filter out of the building leaving Pack, Lizon, and a handful of others staring after.


*****


Next time...

What's in the trunk?

Just who is Ander's bandaged companion?

And whatever will become of our short hero?

Tune in next week and find out!






[Edited for grammer]


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## dshai527

DM Chat.

These are my favorite moments as a DM. The ability to banter in character with the players as they are roleplaying their characters for the first time. They know how they want to play the character but it is not that easy when they have to interact with other also staying in character. This scene was equally hard because the player who was to be playing Worm would not be able to join us for serveral months after being in an accident, so I needed to write his character out but in a way that he could join up whenever the player was able to return. I try not to NPC PC's unless it is a short term absence and even then my players are good about alerting me ahead of time so that something can be worked out. 

In my initial notes this scene was to be glossed over to get the players to more action but I was surprised to find that they played out the entire scene and made me do the speeches by both Abil and Cris. I think they did a wonderful job. 

Sorry just thought that needed to be said.


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## dshai527

This campaign started about 6 months ago but I just graduated (yeah me) and now I have time to work with my sidekick Enk. We have wanted to do this for a long time. We have other campaigns that we want to try to get published. So far we have managed to do about the first half of the first gaming session for this story hour. Enk, Fett, Jon (Worm) and Myself have been gaming together for about 10 years. Pack and Theo have been with us for the last 2 years and Aurora is my wife who is gaming for the first time. So let her know how much you like her character. 

I am glad you like Worm, he was everyones favorite when we were doing charcater concepts. It will be some time before you see him again though. Although I think you will enjoy his return. 

Hope you continue to watch Fett in his role as the "Leper" because he is much more fun once he gets to cut loose.

to qoute Stan Lee
"You keep reading them, I'll keep writing them."


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## Enkhidu

Well, here's the latest installment. We had to break up what would have been one post into 2 (and then some) because of the length of this one, so we haven't answered all of the questions from the last post, but keep reading and we'll get you the info!

And, as an aside, I just have to ask how some of you guys can post so much! I feel hard pressed just to keep up!

As an added bonus, the first person to catch the movie reference in the post will recieve an as yet to be determined prize (though we are leaning heavily toward a guest writing spot in our next project!). Hint: think 80's comedy!

Oh well. Enjoy!

*****

Pack stood in the middle of the room he shared with his brother, casting about for anything else that might be useful. Worm lay quietly on his huge bed, staring at the ceiling as the halfling scurried about. Neither brother had spoken since the council meeting had ended, and the silence weighed heavily over them both.

The halfling paused briefly and stared at the items he had carefully laid out on his bed: yarn, needles, nails, ink, paper, his flute, extra stockings, earmuffs, a hank of chain, silverware, gloves, a sack of marbles, rivets, cloth patches, clothespins, a cracked flagon, a candleholder with candles, chalk, a mirror, a signal whistle, a single piton, fish hooks, and soap. To this he added some leather armor that Worm had made for him last summer when he played the role of the halfling hero Nevill Proudfoot. With a long sigh he began shoving all of his belongings into his already overflowing backpack. 

With each item that he put in the backpack his mind wandered, imagining the many situations that might arise where his collection would prove indispensable. Pack hardly noticed when Worm started helping, handing him not only the items that the halfling had prepared, but also a few that the half-orc knew to be better suited for this type of excursion. A dagger and sling found their way into the backpack’s folds as well as a sturdy leather cap and a package of hardtack and cheese. 

Pack wiggled into his leather cuirass and began struggling with his huge package. He struggled to lift it, and found it quite heavy. Finally, Worm sat on the bed, hefted the backpack, and helped his brother on with the Pack sized pack. 

Slowly, Pack turned to look at the man-boy he regarded as his big brother, even though the halfling was easily four years older. Worm was staring out the window and over the grassy field outside. The small bard followed his gaze, searching for whatever had caught his brother’s attention. After a moment, he felt a huge hand cover both of his shoulders. “Don’t worry,” the half-orc quietly rumbled, “we’ll be fine.” Pack reached up, patted a few fingers, and headed toward the door.

*	*	*	*	*

Pack paused at the bay window as he entered the tavern main room. Visions of the carnage filled his mind as the grisly scene played again in his head. He blinked his eyes hard to stop the images and once again peered out the glass portal, only this time all was calm and serene. He spied Aurora strolling toward the tavern with a large white owl perched on her outstretched arm. Once she reached the front doors, the young lady whispered to her feathered friend and the large bird of prey tilted its head in response and gently floated off on outspread wings. The bird circled once overhead and then faded off toward Orloff’s woods while Aurora stepped inside, smiling weakly at the young bard. 

Pack turned to see that Ander and Theo awaited them with Lizon behind the bar beckoning the two to come forward. Once pack leapt up on the bar, balancing perfectly despite the bulky backpack, Lizon heaved a black trunk up along side him. Pack recognized that it was the same trunk that Worm had left behind the bar earlier. 

Lizon paused momentarily and then placed her hand against the cold leather speaking softly as she did. “_Omnebus, urdebus, imisdebus, vendenectsbus_” As she spoke Pack saw strange symbols materialize on the dark surface and then quickly fade away. She carefully opened the cover and began sifting through the contents.

Brother Theo’s voice cut through the quiet, startling Pack. “I have some things here that might be useful – gifts from the Abbot.” Out of a large satchel slung over his shoulder, he produced a dozen heavy silver vials. “Unused healing draughts from the war. Enough for a pair for each of us, with an extra set for emergencies.” With that, he divvied up the potion filled canisters. As he finished handing out the smooth, plain, wax-sealed vials, Lizon spoke.

“I also have some things for you. They’re some old keepsakes from my traveling days, and I think they’ll bring you luck.” She began taking objects out of the trunk and placing them on the bar, running her hand over each bundle as if remembering the previous owners.

The first package was a cloak, the dusty red color of an autumn leaf, with a faint grey pattern of thorn covered roses. The cloak was wrapped snugly around a half-full quiver. “These were Rosehaven’s,” Lizon said simply. “She could run through a bramble like a jackrabbit. She was also a good shot with the bow, and used these arrows to ensnare her targets. Put them to good use.” 

The second bundle was wrapped in a well dyed, black cloth. She patted it gently, and said, “These two were Reg’s.” She looked at Theo. “You might have heard of him, Brother. About 20 years ago, during his heyday in the south, he was known as the Mistslayer.” If Theo had heard the name, his face didn’t show it. However, out of the corner of his eye, Pack saw Ander blanch at the mention of Lizon’s old traveling companion. Lizon removed first a short bladed sword scabbarded in a plain leather sheath, followed by a strange object made of a dull, silvery metal. “He swore they weren’t enchanted, but they certainly act as if they were. I’ve had them checked - they bear no detectable dweomer - but they do have some strange properties: the sword holds an unnatural edge, and this…” She took hold of the contraption, and with a snap of her wrist it sprang into the shape of a small crossbow. “Well, Reg claimed that he could hit anything with it. I never saw him miss.” She laid both to the side, next to the cloak and quiver. “It has bolts as well,” she said, adding a small case to the pile.

“And finally,” Lizon continued, “there’s this.” She removed a smaller box from the trunk and laid it aside. The box itself was made of what Pack thought was cedar, by the smell, but the color of it seemed wrong. It had bone gilding around the edges. “This might be tricky, so bear with me.” She laid a hand on the top of the box and closed her eyes in concentration. The box emitted a soft, off-white glow, and opened with a click. “This belonged to the Wishbone. I never liked him much, but he had his uses.” Out of the box, she drew three racks of vials, a bone etched all over with dragon maws, and a ring set with bone chips in the place of diamonds. 

“The Wishbone wore this ring constantly. Said it was a “ring of the bone shield,” whatever that is. I never saw him use it. But this,” she lifted the etched bone, “he used all the time. Well, one that looked exactly like it, at least. He claimed it was actually a dragon’s tooth. It well might have been – he did have two of them. The other one shattered on him while he was using it. If this one is like the other, it fires a pair of dragon mouths.”

“And these,” she motioned to the vials, “are the Wishbones handiwork too. Wishbone’s Brews of Health, Stealth, and Speed.” Each type was capped with a different color stopper. “I have to warn you, though, he didn’t get a chance to perfect the health and speed brews. He warned us that the effects were short lived and would have some sort of aftereffect. The stealth brews were made as a favor to Reg.”

She shook her head. “Reg returned the favor by sleeping with the Wishbone’s wife the next week. Turned out they had been cheating with each other for some time. Wishbone, poor man, never saw it coming.” She was silent for a few moments. Pack could tell she was lost in her memories – she always looked that way when thinking about anything to do with her past. He laid a hand on hers and brought her back to the present. “Well, they’re yours now. Use them well.”

Wordlessly, the volunteers divided the items. Aurora took the bone wand and ring; Theo took the vials and added them to his satchel, pausing long enough to dole out a few to each person there; and Ander took the quiver and sword, handing the cloak to Pack, who added the small crossbow to his collection as well. With looks, shrugs, and nods, each item ended up in the hands of the person everyone felt best suited to use it.

Pack looked around at the volunteers’ faces. Aurora glanced nervously from face to face, seemingly unsure of what to do next. Theo busied himself strapping things down tightly, readying himself for the long trip ahead. 

Ander simply looked at Pack and said, “We should be going,” and started out the door.

*****


----------



## Enkhidu

And a bit more... 

SPOILERS BEGIN BELOW


Interlude...


Athena spread her soft wings and floated out from the wooded settlement. The air was thin and sweet, much better than the thick heavy air of the stone dwelling than the owl and her bonded one used to nest in. The world shrank as Athena beat her wings against the warm updraft, gaining much needed height to carry out the bonded ones request. A mouse distracted the white owl for just a moment as it darted out from a fallen log beneath the green canopy of trees. Athena dipped her wings and banked toward her prey, but stopped short of diving into the trees as her keen eyes detected movement in the thickets that now shrouded the mouse in shadows. 

The owl landed softly on an overhanging branch and looked carefully at the new growth that crowded the forest floor. Her natural instinct pulled at her from deep within her stomach, but the owl had grown accustomed to pushing them aside and imitating the inquisitive nature and patience of her soul friend. The bonded friend had needed a high view of the forest looking for dark ones and ground holes, but not the small ones that prey hid in. Once again spreading her feathers Athena leapt back onto the soft winds to complete her mission so that she may pay more attention to her growing hunger.

The ground spread quickly beneath her white wings and the forest was soon left behind. The vast plains stretched out below her but instead of the short grass that normally flourished on the ice covered ground, there was instead more of that strange bramble that Athena had seen in the wood. She circled for a moment puzzling over this odd phenomenon and finally coasted down for a closer search. The vines were much thicker out here and the thorns seemed to be seeping a dark liquid. The great owl's keen eyes also saw several animals that seemed trapped in the thorny underbrush, thrashing and kicking to escape but only succeeding in deeper cuts and further strangulation. Soon only carcasses littered the area and no movement was seen beneath the thick bramble either. 

Athena's wings began to tire but a strange tingling told her it would be unwise to perch anywhere near the growing vines. Twisting her head her eyes caught sight of a large post protruding up from the ground and she quickly changed her angle to float towards it. Her talons dug deep into the woods and she opened her wings full to balance on the small beam. When she finally rested her full weight onto the perch it suddenly shifted throwing the owl back into the air. Athena watched as cracks emerged beneath the brambles surrounding the post and they suddenly tumbled into a great rift that now spanned directly beneath the bird. 

Dust pushed up from the great rift as the perplexed owl once again landed on the wooden post which was now pointing out over the gorge instead of toward the sun. As the dust cleared Athena steadied her gaze down into the darkness of the rift. A huge stone nest, like the bonded one had stayed in while in the stone settlement, was nestled into the unsettled ground deep within the hole. Its top was covered with grass, but the stone walls of the nest supporting it were bare save for a winding wooden staircase that enclosed them.

Athena rested her wings for a few moments more, and then dropped from her perch and unfolded her wings, angling back the way she had come.

The bonded one would be pleased.


----------



## Enkhidu

And now, some of the speculation gets laid to rest...

I've seen where a number of posters really like the "leper." With that being the case, I certainly hope you like this post.

I also want to say thanks for sticking with us through all this character development. We probably could have just given stat blocks for everyone, but we really wanted to fold in as much exposition as possible within the confines of the story itself, before resorting to gamespeak. 

That being said, if you would like, we do have those stat blocks. Now that you've got a better idea of who's who, we figure you might want a peek at them.

By the way, *most posts from here on out contain one or more spoilers about the Sunless Citadel*. I'll let you know when we wrap it up.

For now - as always - enjoy!


*****

Pack’s backside was sore. Butter, his pony, seemed hells bent on breaking him in two, starting with his tailbone, and with every bounce Pack swore he would never ride again. Soon he began to feel every jolt and misstep, as he fought a losing battle with the headstrong pony. He looked over at Aurora, who rode alongside, and saw her wince as her horse picked up it’s pace, jarring her so that her thick red hair bobbed in the light wind. At least he wasn’t the only one due to have a sore rump come evening.

It had been an uneventful trip so far. They had trudged up to the Hillshire – the estate run by Theo – and the old priest’s nephew had been waiting with horses for each of them. The animals were already saddled and packed with provisions. After a quick goodbye, they started them on their way, Ander in the lead.

At Lizon’s request, Ander led the group south and then west, checking on first the Trappers and then the Skinners, and warning both families of the dangers that faced Icemist. Pack had spoken with the first of them while Ander scouted the area: the Trappers were unlikely to take heed of anything the olive skinned woodsman told them. It was well known that they despised him violently; or rather they would have been violent if they had ever caught him alone and outnumbered. The Skinners, however, welcomed the woodsman the same as most people in the town did, with a cold indifference.

After warning both households, and receiving a warning in return – old man Skinner had said that the brambles and thickets had grown wild and out of control this past season and horses might have a hard time getting through them – the volunteers cantered northward, into the Forest Gap. They paused long enough for Ander to stop by a small cabin at the edge of the wood. Four years ago, Pack had helped Worm and Ander raise that building, and it was beginning to look worse for wear. _One day, before festival_, Pack mused, _I’ll have to see about helping him with some repairs, especially if he’s got any more of that wine stashed away. I wonder…_

Pack’s train of thought was cut short by the bandage wrapped beggar coming out of Ander’s cottage and moving out of site around the side of the building. The halfling glanced at the others: Theo seemed unperturbed, as if he had half expected to see the leper, while Aurora blanched at the sight of Ander’s guest. Ander followed him out of the door, a large pack over one shoulder. “More food for the road” he said, and strapped it the saddle of his horse. “We’ll need it to feed the extra mouth.” 

Pack glanced at Aurora, who shrugged her shoulders and looked perplexed. Then Butter tossed her head and began to whicker nervously; Pack grabbed the pony’s reins and held on as his mount danced in place, quaking in fear. Ander rushed over and laid a hand on her head, leaning in to whisper to her, and she calmed. As he did, the wrapped beggar rounded the corner; the pony became skittish again, until the dark woodsman renewed his efforts and calmed the animal with soothing words and touches. As the leper walked closer and mingled among the horses, each became agitated until the young woodsman calmed them the same way he had Butter. The leper walked straight up to Ander’s horse, and began stroking its side, and Pack could see that he had dealt with a horse’s fear before. 

Pack studied the beggar. Normally, the wrapped figure seemed about ready to fall apart, tightly bandaged hands quaking with weakness as they held an almost empty coin cup. But now those hands, though still bound in dingy cloth, moved with the grace and surety that Pack expected out of the figure that vaulted to the roof of the Shimmering Sword like a cat jumps to a tabletop. He looked more closely, and noticed that a fold of his voluminous robes had slipped down his arm. Before that fold fell back into place, Pack caught a glimpse of thick dark hair, almost like fur. 

“This is Ashrem,” Ander said to no one in particular. “He’ll be riding with us.” With that, the beggar vaulted onto the woodsman’s horse and began settling himself in the saddle. “But we’ve got to get moving if we want to make the Break by nightfall. Let’s move.”

“Please hold a moment, son,” rumbled Theo. “Don’t you think these two have a right to know, now, before they ride with him?”

Ander regarded the old campaigner for a long moment, and seemed to deflate. He glanced at the beggar and nodded, weakly at first, and then fully. Wordlessly, the beggar pulled back his deep hood and slowly pulled away thick bandages that completely covered his deformed visage.

Pack heard Aurora gasp as the wrappings fell away to reveal a dark furred and whiskered face, like that of a great black panther. Green eyes with slit irises stared at one face and then another, and the halfling’s heart raced as the false beggar opened his mouth and licked his teeth, just like Lizon’s housecat had done this morning after eating his morning meal. Three long, pinkish scars traveled from his forehead, over an eye and his snout, and down to his cheek. “Greetings,” he said. Pack stared in awe at his feline countenance. He had heard traveling bards tell stories of a fabled race of cat people and its battle prowess, and distinctly remembered they called themselves Feloines. The halfling recalled that those legends had said that they had died out years ago, fighting the demons during the war, but one of their number certainly now stood before the volunteers.

Pack sat speechless as his pony softly whickered. “I found him half dead about a year ago,” he heard Ander say. “And if it weren’t for Brother Theo he would have died outright. Since then, we’ve kept him a secret. There’s no telling what the people in town would have done if they had known. But, I know he’s trustworthy, and he’s proved to be good in a tight spot, especially at night.”

The volunteer’s fell into a long silence, with Ander and Theo glancing at each other as they readied to leave, and Ashrem staring toward the east. Pack sat dumbfounded until he heard Aurora’s soft, unsure voice. “We’re glad to have you,” she said weakly. Ashrem nodded, and Ander, afoot, led them north.

As they traveled, Pack watched the feline featured man… _is it right to call him a man?_ His movements seemed languid and sure, exactly like a cat stalking prey. All the while, the woodsman and priest were discussing the route they would take, and Pack only lent half an ear to their conversation.

For some time, the two men conversed in low tones, until Theo thundered, “Are you mad?”

“It’s the only way, Brother. I’m sure of it.”

“It’s too dangerous for them.”

“That’s their decision, and it’s our best chance of getting underground and linking up with those tunnels.”

Aurora spoke up, “It’s whose decision?”

Ander looked sheepish while Theo gestured to him. “This young pup thinks the only way to track those beasts is by heading underground through some caves.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” said Pack.

“The caves he’s referring to are in Orloff’s Wood.”

Pack gasped, everyone in Icemist had heard of Orloff. He was a bear unlike any other, standing over two full grown men’s heights, and reaching wider than a barn door.  If he was hungry, whole herds of deer would go to fill his belly, and he would drink streams full of water to quench his thirst. He was truly a force of nature, and the most frightening thing Pack knew.

He swallowed heavily, and heard his small voice say, “If it’s the only way, then we must go.”

Aurora interrupted, “It may not be. I think Athena has found us an alternate route.” As she finished her sentence the great white owl floated into view and perched atop the sorceress’ outstretched arm. Pack saw her eyes narrow as they met the owls, and she cocked her head to the side in concentration. “Yes. There’s a… hole?... up ahead. No, make that a rift.” Aurora seemed to be translating for the owl, and was having a difficult time with it. After a few more moments of intense concentration, the strawberry haired woman closed her eyes and shook her head. When she turned back around, she had a smile on her face that Pack felt was just for him.

“The brambles are thick in the direction we need to go, but I know a way for us to get underground. And it’s not in Orloff’s Wood…”

*****


----------



## Enkhidu

Well, here's the promised installment!

And, if you like it (and I know you will), you should thank my partner in crime (and erstwhile sidekick, no matter what he says). As DM, he did a durn good job of setting the mood for our first encounter with these little beasties (he also did a pretty convincing reenactment of the battle during our writing session, and I still have the bruises to prove it - as DM he always gets to play the bad guys. At this point, I'm getting sort of afraid of what will happen if we meet any trolls).

By the way, this is the last post of our first gaming session, if that gives you any indication of how this is going, so you can look forward to dozens more.

Oh yeah, 2 more things. 1) Basic feloine stat info will be up as soon as the DM gets his notes together. Look for them tomorrow at some point. 2) SPOILERS SPOLIERS SPOILERS

That's right from here on out, this story hour will have SPOILERS for the Sunless Citadel. Read accordingly.

And now?

Enjoy...


*****

Pack threw some more wood on the fire and headed back toward his makeshift seat. The fire really hadn’t needed more wood but the halfling was loath to let the others to know how sore he was from the day’s ride. He feigned a yawn, using the opportunity to stretch his tight muscles before glancing around at his traveling mates. 

Theo and Ander stood on the outskirts of the camp tending to the horses and discussing in low tones what seemed to Pack to be supplies and timetables. Each man would listen to the other, look to the three-quarter full moon, and then point at the bag holding the party’s supplies. It was obviously not an argument, but it was clear that each man had his own view of how and when the supplies should be used. The discussion seemed to end when Brother Theo let out a hardy laugh and slapped the woodsman on the back, as the younger man chuckled and began redistributing the supplies into smaller bags. 

Pack next stretched his legs over toward Aurora. The red haired sorceress sat deep in concentration, staring deeply into the fire. He moved slowly across the encampment, and paused a moment when he neared Ashrem’s sleeping form. The cat-man was to stand second watch when night reached its darkest and where his feline eyesight would be of the most use, and thus had gone to bed early. The halfling had never felt nervous around Ashrem when he had thought of the man as a leper and beggar, but seeing him in his true form sent a chill down the young bard’s spine. 

As if reading his thoughts, the feloine opened one of his eyes and smiled. “Fear not Pack, I am still the same person who listened to your songs while Lizon cooked dinner. Please, move on now, you are standing upwind and impede my ability to detect anything that may decide to interrupt our rest.” Then, having finished, Ashrem closed his eye and once again resumed his own even breathing.

Pack shivered once and quickly skipped toward the young maiden, trying to look nonchalant and failing. Once at her side he plopped down on the grassy floor next to her and sighed deeply to try and break her concentration. When that failed to get a reaction, he tried a more direct approach and poked her in the side. 

“Wha…Oh, it’s you, Pack. Sorry - old habit from my time in the city. I just sort of block everything out.” Aurora stammered as she blushed at the halfling. Then Pack saw her eye’s light up and a grin spread across both cheeks. “Oh, while you are here, may I use you as a test subject?”

“Sure.” Pack replied eagerly. “What do you need me to do?”

“Just stand right where you are.” 

“Okay.” He stood and waited as Aurora began backing away from him. At five paces, he began to wonder what she had planned; at ten, he began sweating in anticipation; and at fifteen, he started having second thoughts about volunteering. Once she was about twenty paces from him, Aurora turned and faced the nervous halfling.

Pack watched Aurora’s every motion, trying to discern what the young sorceress was doing. He saw her breathing slow and her eyes focus on his: a sheen of perspiration shone of her forehead. Just as he was about to tell her to hurry, her arm shot straight out and a purple dragon head lanced from her finger tips. The young bard screamed and threw his hands up in front of his face, preparing for the impact of the deadly missile. 

The impact never happened. Slowly, Pack opened his eyes and peeked through his fingers. Ander, Theo, and Ashrem huddled around the frightened halfling with weapons drawn and staring at Aurora’s magical projectile, suspended above the fire just a few feet away. Pack watched, amazed, as the dragon head began rotating and growing, blurring into a glowing sphere of purple light. The ball suddenly shifted color, turning a light blue, and the halfling heard Aurora gasp. With her sharp intake of breath, the globe quivered and faded, once again leaving the camp in firelight.

 “I’m sorry Pack” Aurora pleaded as she tried to catch her breath. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”  

“What was that?” Ander exclaimed as he supported the exhausted spellcaster and led her to her seat. 

“It’s something that I have been working on.” Aurora explained. “I’ve been trying to concentrate my scorcher so that it won’t disperse when it hits its target, but when I concentrate too hard all I get is a lopsided ball that starts to overheat. I can ‘feel’ the magic but I can’t control it yet. Pack wasn’t in any danger: I can determine where it goes and unlike my scorcher spell I can shift targets. But once I do that it loses shape and starts to burn the air around it. It’s not quite what I had in mind, but it might just come in handy.”

Brother Theo walked up to the girl with Pack in tow, and patted her on the shoulder, but before he could give any words of encouragement, Pack heard a growl, like that of a great mountain cat. 

“We are not alone!” 

Pack’s heart raced at Ashrem’s words, and he turned scanning the area for signs of scaly raiders. His body twisted in a complete circle but all he saw was the tangled form of the underbrush that encircled the camp. The bard paused trying to get his bearing and just as he started to question his feline companion, the brambles behind Ander suddenly sprang up and clawed at the young woodsman. Pack’s scream seemed to reach Ander’s ears, and gave the warrior warning enough to roll away before the talons on the manlike bush could tear through more than just his cloak. Ander continued his roll using the momentum to bring his quarterstaff around to bear on his attacker. The bush creature tried to shield the blow with its thick arms but the ranger’s blow had too much force behind it. Pack felt pieces of bark splatter against his skin as the stick figure splintered into tiny wooden fragments. 

Brushing the pieces of wood from his face Pack glanced around the campsite. Three more of the creatures had risen from the vines and were fast approaching the small band. Ander moved to position himself in front of Aurora and the young bard while Theo moved to the rear. Pack could not see Ashrem and feared that some unseen twig creatures had dragged off the feloine. The firelight danced around the campsite-turned-battlefield making it hard for the halfling to distinguish between the attackers and the brambles. 

Moving slightly closer to the fire, Pack saw the twig creatures begin a frontal assault. All three creatures rushed through the brambles straight towards the bard and his allies. Just as the first one entered the clearing, a dark shadow appeared behind it and a loud cracking noise was heard. The creature stopped and turned in its tracks as the other shambled past. A small crack could be seen in its back as it faced Ashrem, who was pulling his shadowy form out from under the briar. 

The cat-man circled the creature looking for an opening. The silhouette of a short silver blade that Pack recognized as the one that Lizon had given to Ander, danced in front of Ashrem. The blade darted out time and again as Pack saw the feloine dodging the needlelike claws of the attacking creature. Thrust after thrust from the small sword pressed into the woody creature but Pack saw no evidence of any real damage being done from the pressing attack. 

“Ander,” the tiring feloine called, “I need assistance. My weapon seems to be of no use against these creatures.”  

Pack turned to find that the woodsman was in troubles of his own as two of the creatures battered at the young woodsman. Ander was backpedaling, trying to buy time as he held the creatures at bay with his staff. Unlike the feloine’s strikes, whenever one of Anders blows landed, bits of bark and kindling blasted from the struck creature’s body. Just as it looked to the halfling that Ander had gained control of the fight, one of the twig blights ducked under a high blow and jumped upward, tearing at the woodsman’s face. Ander screamed, nearly dropping his weapon, and Pack could see that a thick sap coated the flesh wound causing the skin to blister and peel. 

Enraged at the scene, Pack reached down and drew a burning log from the fire. Gripping the log he brandished it like a club with the burning end facing toward his foe. He started towards the woodsman but Ander’s concerned look told him that he was needed elsewhere. Spinning around and following the ranger’s gaze, Pack saw that Theo and his whirling flail had moved up to aid Ashrem, but a fourth creature was moving in on an unknowing Aurora. Pack ran forward to intercept the creature even as Aurora turned and realized her danger. The young sorceress stood paralyzed with fear as the twig blight bore down of her. Pack closed his eyes and charged with all his might at the creature, hoping to push it back away from Aurora. A hollow thud and jarring impact jolted the halfling’s eyes open. Pack could hear the hiss as the sap boiled on the wooden creature, but it did not burst into flame, nor did the impact push the solid creature backwards away from its target. 

The creature seemed to grin and reared back to strike the stunned halfling. Pack dropped the log and fell to the ground as two claws ripped at the air where his head had just been. The creature howled and creaked, sounding like fresh wood burning in a fire, and lunged at the defenseless halfling. The creature stopped in mid-air as two deep blue missiles shaped like miniature flying dragons slammed into it, hurtling it into the campfire. The creature thrashed as the flames leapt onto its body but it soon sat still as the fire engulfed it.

Pack glanced back to see a paled Aurora holding the dragon tooth wand motioning for him to get up. Behind her the halfling could see Theo’s flail obliterate Ashram's and his foe with one mighty overhand stroke. All eyes then turned back toward Ander and his duel. The woodsman had already dropped one of the creatures but he showed signs of multiple wounds, all complete with the blistering and peeling from the irritating sap. The remaining creature clawed and raked, keeping the woodsman on his heels. Attack after attack pushed Ander backwards into the brambles where the woodsman’s movement became slowed and hampered by the thick undergrowth. 

Sensing that he was in trouble, Pack desperately searched for something to aid the woodsman with. As he looked he saw two more of the miniature dragons fly free of Aurora’s wand and strike the wooden body of the creature. The creature bucked under the onslaught but pressed on with its assault even more ferociously. Brother Theo stepped up next to Aurora and raised his shield up like he was blocking a blow and bellowed out toward the heavens. 

*“Lord of Thunder, strike your foe with the Fury of the Storms!”*

Pack saw the lightning design on Theo’s shield dance, and then coalesce on the shield boss. From that metal disc, a bolt of pure power as thick as a Worm’s arm arced toward the blighted twig’s chest and continued on through it, leaving a charred husk behind. The remainder of the creature slowly toppled into the brambles.

After a moment of stunned silence, Ashrem blended back into the shadows of the thicket, and Ander leaned heavily on his staff. Brother Theo brushed past Pack and reached out to the woodsman, intoning a soothing hymn that seemed to seal Ander’s open wounds. Pack glanced over at Aurora, who had sunk to her knees in exhaustion. From the look on her face, Pack wasn’t sure if she was about ready to laugh, or to cry. 

The halfling then wiped his own eyes. _What else is out there? And Gods  preserve us, can we stand against it?_

*****


----------



## fett527

*Here they are!*

OK, I am posting the racial traits for the panther feloine race which is what Ashrem is.  Please note that there are other feloine subraces besides the panthers and where we specifically say panther feloine those traits are only applicable to the panther.  All other traits are applicable to all feloines.  We toiled for awhile on deciding these traits and keeping them playable and not overpowering.  We did testing before we started the campaign and so far things have gone well during actual play as well.  Please feel free to comment and ask questions.  Thanks for the interest!


PANTHER FELOINE RACIAL TRAITS
•+2 Dexterity, -2 Constitution:  Panther feloines are very graceful. This makes them more adept at stealth and ranged combat.
•Medium-size: As medium-size creatures, panther feloines have no special bonuses or penalties due to size.
•Feloine base speed is 30 feet
•Low-light Vision: Feloines can see twice as far as a human in starlight, moonlight, torchlight, and similar conditions of poor illumination. They retain the ability to distinguish detail under these conditions.
•Natural Weapons:  Claws-1d3/1d3  Bite-1d4  A feloine is never unarmed because of their natural weapons.  They are still restricted by all multiple attack rules that apply.
•Scent ability:  Per the _Monstrous Manual_ .  A feloine has a heightened sense of smell that allows him to track foes and detect enemies.
•+2 racial bonus on saving throws vs. illusions.  The feloines increased sensitivity to smells makes him less susceptible to magical illusions.
•-2 racial negative to saving throws against olfactory based spells.  The same sensitivity becomes detrimental against spells such as _Stinking Cloud_. 
•+2 racial bonus to Hide, Balance and Move silently.  Panther feloines are a nimble race and therefore are more adept at stealth.  Their tail allows them ability to steady themselves more readily.
•Climbing:  A feloine's claws allow him to climb more easily on surfaces without handholds.  A feloine gains a +5 circumstance bonus to Climb checks on smooth surfaces.  He is able climb as if he had handholds.
•Jumping:  When a feloine attempts a Jump check his distance is 1.5 times that of normal humanoids.
•Automatic Languages:  Regional, Feloine.
•Favored Class:  Rogue.  A multiclass panther feloine’s rogue class does not count when determining whether he suffers an XP penalty for multiclassing. A panther’s increased abilities in stealth, climbing and balancing make’s him an excellent Rogue.


----------



## Enkhidu

OK, sorry about the wait, but here's the next installment.

Look for another one in a few days!


*****

The cool wind cut through the air like a well-cast sling bullet, and Pack pulled his cloak tighter about him. The young halfling didn’t know what was worse: the chill of the morning ride or the unbearable silence that plagued the group ever since last night’s ambush. The halfling was grateful that the band proceeded more cautiously - to Pack it meant less bouncing in the saddle. However, the slower pace and the mounting fear of an impending attack threatened to sink morale. 

Pack had never been on a quest before, but he had memorized every song that the traveling minstrels had performed over the years. Those musical tales always lifted his spirits, and he began searching his memory for something appropriate. All through the morning, and continuing through a lunch in the saddle, he played each melody in his head, searching for just the right piece, but as each tale ended in his thoughts, none seemed to strike the right chord with the nervous bard. _If they don’t calm me down, how can I expect them to calm everyone else down?_ Pack thought, trying to force a solution. _Why am I so nervous?_ 

Pack rode on in silence for some time before the answer sounded in his mind like a loud gong. Half of the problem was that he already missed his brother. Even though he knew his traveling companions, the young halfling realized he did not really know them like he did Worm, and his brother and Lizon were the only two people that he trusted with his life. 

Pack glanced around as his curiosity took over and the halfling began to analyze each of his companions. Looking around, he realized that the other half of his problem was that he needed more from his companions that what had already been given. The young halfling just had too many questions that needed to be answered. 

Pack’s first instinct was to question Ashrem because that was where a majority of the halfling’s unease stemmed from. The feloine, however, had his eyes closed due to lost sleep from standing watch all night, and the halfling did not think it wise to interrupt his even ride. Ander was his next choice but the woodsman spent much of his time ahead of them and afoot, checking the routes through the thickets and watching for more thorn creatures. Poor Aurora looked more concerned than Pack felt, so unless he wanted to talk about himself – and Pack’s life had never before been considered entertaining – that left Brother Theo. Not knowing any other way but the direct way, Pack cleared his throat and started. 

“Um, Brother Theo. Can I, uh, ask you a question? I mean you don’t have to answer it, but I figured as long as no one else was talking, we might as well talk. That is to say, I have a few questions, not just one. Um, well, like the…um, the lightning. Yeah, the lightning! I know you are a servant of the storm but WOW.  I’ve never seen or heard of a priest who could do that before. Kapow! Zip! Flash and ZZZT! And we had another campfire.” As he spoke Pack realized that, once again, his mouth had moved faster than his thoughts; he also noticed that, once again, his companions had stopped, each person regarding him with an odd look. Even Ashrem had opened his eyes to stare at the bard. 

“Sorry,” the halfling croaked as he tried to sink further down in his saddle. Silence weighed on the flustered bard’s head like a giant’s fist. Just as Pack was about to bow his head in shame, a great roaring laugh rumbled out from Brother Theo’s chest. 

“Oh, ho, ho! That’s the way, lad! Yes, it’s about time we spoke up and broke this damnable silence.” The aging priest pulled his cloak tighter around himself and seemed distant to the young halfling for a moment. “It is me who is to start then?”

“Please, Theo” Aurora said, looking Theo straight in the face a strange spark in the young lady’s eyes. “I’m also curious about your talent. I’ve heard whispers in the library halls of others who had special gifts like me.”

Brother Theo frowned as he met the sorceress’ gaze. “I wish I could say I share the ‘gift’ that you have Milady, but I cannot.” Pack noticed Aurora’s shoulders slump at the priest’s words but the young lady nodded for Theo to continue. After a heartfelt sigh, the priest turned back toward Pack and began.

“Now this is a good long story and as with all long stories it must be told from the beginning to be understood.” Pack noticed that Ander had pulled back in with the group, listening to the rambling cleric’s words. “As you might know, I am the second son of family Hillshire, and as the second son my job was to help work the farm that my brother would one day inherit. That day came long before it should have, and as a hotheaded youth I couldn’t handle both the loss of my parents and working for my brother. Two weeks after the soil was tilled over their graves, I packed a saddle and headed for Tor to find my own destiny.

‘The capitol was huge, and a bit overwhelming for a farm lad like myself, and I think Aurora will answer the same if you ask her. I found a job as a tower guard during the border disputes between Ion and Tor, and it wasn’t long before I had earned the nickname ‘Thunder Storm’ or ‘Storm’ for short because of my voice, which was deep even then, and for my quick temper. That city has a way of pulling you in like an undertow in a gully stream, and it wasn’t long before the days and months blurred by with fistfights and tavern crawls between watches on the tower gates.

‘Five full years passed that way: get up, run my time at the gates, meet my drinking partners in a tavern, and either end up in a fight or some wench’s arms. Sometimes both. And then I would get up and do it all again. If things had turned out differently, I might still be there. 

‘But every man reaches a time in his life when he discovers what’s important. For me, it came when…”

A flock of small birds suddenly scattered from a nearby thicket, halting Theo’s story and spooking the horses. Pack struggled to keep his mount under control and was nearly thrown before Ander laid a reassuring hand on Butter’s flank. The halfling looked around at the faces of his companions. Aurora met his glance with a sheepish grin, and it was obvious that Ander had also been caught unawares. The bard even fancied that the feloine looked chagrined.

“I’m afraid your story may have to wait for another time, Brother,” murmured Ander. “It would be best if we kept our ears open. Next time it might not be birds”

“It might not come to that, Ander.” Aurora’s voice carried over the group, and Pack could feel her excitement. “Wherever it is that we’re going, I think we may be there.” She pointed a long, delicate finger upward and toward the north, toward a large white bird that circled overhead.

*****


----------



## Enkhidu

Hi all!

I just wanted to say that I finally got caught up on a few story hours yesterday, and I really want to point some more of them out. Spider_Jeruselam, in his story hour, plugged a few lesser known story hours (including this one - thanks Spidey!), and it seemed like a good idea to do it here as well.

Please do yourself a favor and check out:

*Campaign of DM Cthulu Ftaghn*: by Cthulu Ftaghn (who else?)
*ForceUser's Vietnamese Story Hour*: by ForceUser (this one gives a really different take on the standard D&D milieu)
and, of course,
*Ice, Luck, and Honor*: by Spider_Jeruselam

All three of these have been going on for a bit, and need your support (plus they're good too).

And, even though their anything but "lesser known" check out (contact)'s *Liberation of Tenh* and Sepulchrave II's *Heretic of Wyre II*. (contact) is one of the granddaddies of the whole story hour forum, and has some really well developed characters (and mucho buttkicking) and Sep's story hour(s) has(have) been, well, awesome (for lack of a better term).

Anyway, on with the show...


The previous post from dshai527 is the way a writing session goes between the two of us go, in all it's shameful glory. One of us writes something, the other polishes it, and we fold it all together. Usually we do it in person, but this time it worked out that we have a log of it - take a gander if you dare!

And it's time for another installment!

So here we go... And remember that these posts contain SPOILERS for the SUNLESS CITADEL.


*****


Pack’s backside was on fire. From the time Aurora had pointed out Athena circling overhead, the companions had ridden hard and followed the white owl as closely as the thickets would allow. Ander had swung up behind Aurora on her horse and the two ranged out in front, Aurora setting the direction of travel, and Ander picking the trail. The cantering pace they set jarred Pack’s teeth, but the halfling had to admit that they covered a good deal of ground in that time. The sun was well into its downward arc when they reached a steep rise covered with a huge briar patch.

Ander called a halt to their ride, dismounting and motioning for Ashrem to do likewise. The feloine slid out of the saddle and sniffed the air. After a brief moment, he looked back at the woodsman and shook his head. As Pack looked on, the young man plunged into the thicket, opening a pathway up the rise large enough for the horses to follow: single file, the volunteers rode slowly behind.

Halfway up the low hill, Butter stopped to snack on a thistle, unconcerned with the halfling that wriggled in the saddle on her back. The other horses slipped past the pony as she finished eating, and only after she had let out a snort back toward her rider did the frustrated bard’s mount continue. When the pair finally began moving again, Pack looked toward the rise, where his companions sat and stood, gazing over the top of the short hill. Butter quickly caught up with the others, and Pack caught sight of what entranced his companions: a huge rift sat not more than a mile away like a scar in the earth.

The companions sat quietly for a few moments until the bard broke the silence. “So this is it.” Though he had tried to make is voice lighthearted, he had failed miserably; the words sounded ominous even to his small ears. 

“Athena just landed near the edge,” said Aurora. “That’s definitely where she was leading us.”

“Then that’s where we go,” rumbled Theo. “Lead on, Ander.” The olive-skinned man grunted in what Pack assumed was agreement, and began trailblazing through the remaining thicket.

He watched the rift draw closer: it was not very long, but it was wide. If the group had decided to go around it, the trip would have taken them at least a full day, if not more, but Ander had aimed their course directly at the chasm. The bard looked around at his companions as they drew closer. Brother Theo gray-haired head was bowed in thought, while Aurora looked much braver than Pack had thought she would. When he looked more closely, however, he saw that her breathing seemed shallow and forced, as if she fought to control it. He then glanced at Ashrem, searching the feloine’s eyes for some sign of emotion, but the beggar’s feline features seemed made of stone. Ander moved ahead of the group purposefully, as if he carried a heavy burden, and Pack couldn’t help but think that if he was in charge of leading the way he would feel the same.

*	*	*	*	*

The group moved quickly, finally reaching the edge of the rift and dismounting to get a better view. Aurora’s snowy white owl had perched atop a large post that was jutting from the rocky ground out into the chasm. The post stood taller than the halfling even when atop his pony, and it was carved with strange symbols and figures that vaguely resembled dragons flying toward the post head. Peering out beyond the post, Pack could see down into the rift - the sight was spectacular and nauseating at the same time. Huge towers of rocks and caves lined the crevice walls but the bottom was shrouded in mists and shadows, leaving what lurked there to Pack’s active imagination. The halfling shook his head and chuckled, thanking the fates that he would not be going down there, but when the grateful bard moved to once again mount his pony he noticed that all eyes moved back and forth between the chasm and him.. 

“Oh, no,” was all the hapless halfling could mutter.

*	*	*	*	*

Pack tested the knots one more time before looking back and nodding to Ander that he was ready to begin. The halfling twisted and pulled on each of the threaded ends that he was about to entrust his life to, but with a great sigh he casually stepped off the edge of the rift. The rope pulled tight immediately and Pack heard Ander and Theo grunt as his weight was suddenly shifted onto their arms. The halfling spun dizzyingly around as he was lowered into the crevice Aurora’s owl had located. It was darker down in the chasm than up top, as the rift walls blocked the light from the sun, but the bard could make out a small, grassy landing that, strangely, seemed to have a set stairs running down the sides. 

Pack pushed of from the wall to angle his descent toward the landing and tugged on the rope twice to indicate to his companions that they needed to slow him down. With a great swing, the halfling planted his feet firmly on the soft grass of the plateau. Once he had gained his balance by waving his arm out wide, the bard began to walk slowly around the grass covered terrace, making his way toward the iron staircase. 

 At the edge of the landing, Pack paused to look at the rusted iron steps leading down into the morning mists. The stairs themselves seemed to be in fairly good shape, aside from the rust, but the anchor points attaching to the plateau seemed worn and unsafe. The halfling bent over to examine further when a rustling noise behind him sent shivers up his spine and froze him solid. 

 Knowing that he was supposed to be alone, Pack never even looked over his shoulder until he had clambered halfway up the rope. “Pull me up! Pull me up!” Once he was safely being hosted back toward the surface, the scared halfling chanced a glance over his shoulder. The halfling found two pairs of red glowing eyes staring back at him. The eyes belonged to two huge, at least from Pack's perspective, creatures about the size of a large dog. They had tufts of fur sticking out from weird angles all over their body and walked on all fours. Elongated snouts protruded from their face and ended with sharp flat teeth. The creatures almost resembled a pair of huge, misshapen, and bloated rats to the young bard, like from a black magic fairy tale or nightmare.

By the time Pack’s head crested the crevice wall, he was shaking. “There’s something down there! Something big! With big teeth and red eyes!” Once firmly back on solid ground, he began gesturing as he spoke. “They were this big!” He threw his arms out as wide as they could go. “And there’s no way I’m going back down there, because they look hungry!”

Aurora laid a hand on his shoulder and interrupted him. “Slow down, Pack,” she said soothingly. “What exactly was down there?” 

“Rats. The biggest rats I’ve ever seen. Bigger than me, even.”

Ander broke in. “Rats, Pack? I never figured you to be afraid of rats.”

“You don’t understand, Ander, these aren’t normal rats.”

Pack saw Ander stifle a smirk. “Of course they’re not. Would it make you feel better if one of us went down first?”

“Please?”

Ander shrugged and looked at Ashrem, who nodded silently. Moments later, the feloine had secured himself with the rope and prepared to lower himself off the side, Ander and Theo holding the line steady as it quivered under his weight. Just before he disappeared over the side, he looked directly at Pack, licked his lips – much like a Lizon’s old Tom did before catching a mouse – and winked slowly at the still quivering halfling.

*****

Next time....

Watch bad tactics cause great havoc!

See our heroes beset with danger on all sides!

and,

Find out why Ander really wishes he had Foe Hunter: Rat!

(Did I mention how much I hate rodents?)


----------



## Enkhidu

Hi all!

We've got a fairly long update today, from a slightly different point of view than our friendly neighborhood halfling. I hope that it's a pleasant change of pace!

By the way, this may be the only update over the next week: I'll be writing and posting my portion of the ENWWC Story Hour. Our writing circle test run is going strong over there, and you should head over to take a look at it if you haven't - lot's of creamy story time goodness with a number of authors - some of which you might recognize as authors of other story hours! So hop on over to that thread (and shame on you if you haven't already!) - the link is in my sig...

As always, the Small Beginnings Story hour has SPOILERS from the Sunless Citadel, so be warned.


Well, without further ado...

*****
The feloine tested the knot in the rope secured tightly around his weight, and then looked back at his traveling companions. Wordlessly, he walked over to the edge of the cliff. He looked back at his friend Ander and the aging priest Theo; they had taken up the loose end of the rope and stood braced to take his weight. Then Ashrem slowly walked backward over the side, the rope tight against his body. As he did, he caught sight of Pack’s nervous face. In an effort to put the halfling in a better mood, he smiled, licked his lips, and winked: then he dipped below the rocky edge and was gently lowered to the grass below.

Ashrem sniffed the air as he untied the rope and walked around the landing. The feloine saw no tracks but he could smell the fresh scent that the halfling had left, and there was something else in the air that gave the panther pause. It was musky and foul, like the smell of a mammal that had died in the hot sun after being trampled by a horse. The smell was like acid on his sensitive nose, and the feloine’s eyes had started to tear up. He quickly moved to edge of the landing near the stairs, where the breeze lessened the smell. Once he cleared his senses, he tugged twice on the rope and began tying the end off to the iron staircase. 

Ashrem watched until he saw Ander’s lean frame sliding down the rope, and then he turned his eyes back to searching for Pack’s little rat friends. Crossing over the grassy plateau, Ashrem gracefully slid the silver short sword Ander had just given him out of its scabbard and once again delighted in its masterful balance and feather-light weight. The feloine knew that his debt, as well as his respect, to the woodsman was deeper now due to this amazing blade. With the weapon, Razor, poised ahead of him, the feloine crept forward to glance over the edge of the landing. 

The acid stench assaulted his senses once again, but this time Ashrem was prepared and pulled his beggar wrap back over his mouth and nose. It didn’t eliminate the smell but it did make it bearable. Once at the edge, Ashrem noticed a thick tangle of brown vines that were clinging to the cliff face like scaling ropes from an invading army. The vines covered the entire side of the plateau and disappeared down into the heavy fog where the feloine could faintly make the outline of what appeared like a castle wall. 

Behind him, the feloine heard Aurora and Pack slide down the ropes and touch ground. Ashrem started to turn and greet his companions, when he heard a slight rustling coming from the vines. Putting his weapon point first into the vines, he gentle brushed aside the top layer of thick growth. When the vines were pulled back far enough for the feloine to see, a huge shape of fur and teeth erupted towards him clawing and gnashing at his face. 

A surprised growl erupted from Ashrem’s throat as he tucked his sword and tumbled backwards to avoid anything more than a surface scratch along his forearm. When he stood once again, Ander was beside him with his walking staff in a defensive position protecting both the woodsman and the feloine. 

“See I told you, See I told you! Oh No, Now there are four of them!” Ashrem heard Pack screaming, and the feloine could imagine a pale faced Aurora beside the halfling, both of them backing toward the stairs. 

It was Ashrem who was surprised though, as twin energy dragons flew over his shoulder and exploded into the lead creature leaving scorch marks on its furry hide. The feloine was equally surprised that the creature was still moving toward the companions after being struck by the energy missiles that had killed kobold raiders with just one, not two. Ander struck next: leaping forward toward the lead rat, the woodsman did an overhand smack that dropped the rat to its belly, but once again Ashrem was amazed that the creature merely growled and got back up.  He stepped forward to strike at the beast’s head, but the creature was just as agile as the feloine and managed to avoid the quick thrust.  


The large rodents once again surprised the agile scout by breaking their charge and rushing back into the sanctuary of the vines. Ashrem held out his arm to stop Ander from rushing headlong after them. A purring laugh softly buzzed from his mouth, and the feloine winked at the woodsman as an idea sprang into his head. Taking a few steps backwards the feline scout yanked a torch from Pack’s overflowing backpack. While he tried to light the wooden shaft with flint pulled from his belt, Ashrem peered over and nodded at Ander. The feloine smiled when the woodsman nodded back and began unstringing his bow. 

“Pack, Aurora,” Ander called “get ready with slings and spells. This should all happen pretty quickly.” 

Ashrem felt the fire’s breath against his face as it sprang onto the alcohol dipped torch. As he lifted the torch, the feloine could hear the whistling of a small sling as it whirled round and round behind his back and the even whispers of Aurora’s voice as she calmed her nerves and prepared her spells for the attack. A purple haze interrupted Ashrem’s concentration and the cat turned, along with everyone else, to see the source of the mysterious aura. To the feloine it seemed as if Aurora’s body was encased in a glowing suit of armor, complete with helmet. The image outlined the young sorceress’ body for just a few heartbeats and then faded away, leaving a determined Aurora staring at everyone. 

“Just getting ready.” She squeaked somewhat embarrassed as a red tinge flushed onto her cheeks. Ashrem’s only reply was a short snort and then he turned and launched the torch high over his head and into the awaiting vines. The torch bounced once and went over the cliff’s edge into the thick of the tangled growth. Smoke poured up as the dried foliage quickly caught the flame and fed it, creating a spreading wall of death. 

“What’s all this?” Theo’s voice crashed down from above as the aging cleric clambered down the rope to join them. The saddlebags of supplies that Theo had strung over his back impeded his armored form as the priest attempted to hurry his descent. 

A shrill squeaking followed by the soft twang of a bow snapped Ash’s head back toward the blazing vines. A flaming rat had rushed from the inferno, only to have an arrow from the woodsman’s bow lodge in its head. As the feloine watched, more of the bulbous rodents charged from the smoke towards the awaiting companions. With the swish of a sling a silver bullet was propelled over Ashrem’s left shoulder, while dragon headed energy bolts winged over his right shoulder. Missile after missile flew forward from bow, sling and wand at the grotesque rats, but the furry beasts took the hits and kept surging forward, pushing the companions back toward the stairs. 

Ash’s foot stepped back and the cold clank of boots on iron metal stairs greeted his ears: the feloine knew that they had to make a stand. Launching himself forward into the midst of his foes, the nimble cat warrior roared and slashed out with Razor’s keen edge. The sword sliced home at one of the rats that was swarming toward Ander as the woodsman tried to switch from bow to quarterstaff. The blade slid through the scabrous hide of the creature as if it were a ghost; the spraying blood was the only indication that the blade had found its mark. The lifeless rodent hit the ground, its body nearly cut in half, but Ashrem saw that his friend was covered with the creatures each biting and clawing at the woodsman as he attempted to bring his staff around to protect his body. Thin streams of blood covered the human’s body as bite after bite found his soft flesh. The feloine began to circle the woodsman looking for a way to aid his companion, but the booming voice of Brother Theo brought new events to his attention. 

“Ashrem!” The priest bellowed as he finally planted his feet on the plateau, “Look to Pack and Aurora, I will help Ander!” With that the priest dropped the saddlebags to the ground and yanked his flail from his belt, charging into the mass of fur and flesh and bowling the rats away from the distressed woodsman. 

Knowing that Ander had received aid, Ashrem turned to help the small halfling and fragile young sorceress. Three of the rats had the two companions cornered on the opposite edge of the battlefield. Pack was crowded behind Aurora madly searching through his immense pack. The sorceress was swinging at the three rodents with her wand as they bit and snapped at her frail form. Ash was amazed that each time the beasts raked teeth or claws at the female human, a shimmering field shaped like armor hardened around the sorceress’ frame. 

As Ash moved in behind the sorceress and her foes, the feloine visibly saw a look of relief on the young maiden’s face: he could tell that she had been biting her lip, agonizing over her predicament. The panther feloine angled his blade at the rat’s backside and made a silent promise that he would protect his innocent companions as best he could until they were all once again safe. As Razor once again found its target, the feloine swore that he would do for these companions what he was unable to do for his squad during his military service in the Demon Wars. Anger seized the feloine as he buried Razor up to the hilt in another of the pock-ridden rats. He would protect them and rid himself of the nightmares and demons that haunted his dreams and plagued his memories. 

The rage fed Ashrem and the battlefield became a blur of color, sound and smells, none of which registered to the feline warrior as he focused on his last target. The creature was running and the fleet footed feloine was hard pressed to keep up. The stench of smoke and disease faded and the sounds of battle were replaced by the scraping of boots and claws on the metal landings of the stairwell. Ashrem quickly snapped from his fury as the stairs shifted under his momentum and weight, nearly pitching the feloine and his prey off into a dizzying fall. The nimble scout glanced around analyzing the situation and collecting his thoughts. He was nearly halfway down the stairs and his companions were shouting at him to wait. His rat prey had slowed in front of him, as if waiting for him to give chase again: almost like it was leading him to an ambush…


----------



## Enkhidu

It's time for a new (if short) post!

I was finally able to finish my turn in the ENWWC (see sig for link), and, lo and behold, found that my cohort dshai527 and I had enough juice left over to rough out the next post. After some spit, polish, and cooperative rewites, here it is!

By the way, we've decided that the story is best served by POV switches on a very regular basis, and we're trying to figure out who YOU, the readers, want to see the story through.

If you have a request to see this thing through the eyes of other party members, now is the time to ask (we've already heard from Mr. Pink in this regard, but more opinions can only help! And it should be obvious that we cater to our audience from the POV in the next post!)!

And without further ado...

Enjoy!

*****

With a crack of the quarterstaff, Ander finished off the last of the rats that had assaulted him. His body ached from the many bruises and scratches that the creatures had inflicted but as his mentor, Wrothgar, had told him, ‘any fight you can walk away from is a good fight.’ The woodsman watched as Ashrem broke from the impromptu battlefield in quick pursuit of the last fleeing rat. He had never seen the feloine so enraged and determined: ever since the day he had found him half-dead in a snow bank a year ago, his friend always seemed so calm, almost placid. The young ranger turned to give chase but his knee buckled beneath him, sending him sprawling to the ground. 

A quick look down at his legs told the young warrior that his injuries were more serious than he had imagined. Blood soaked through his trousers turning the tan cotton a bright crimson and his knee seemed to be swelling. 

“Ashrem, wait for us!” The woodsman cried out to the feloine, trying once again to stand and give chase. However, it appeared that his call fell on deaf ears as the feloine continued on his course and followed the rat down the twisting iron stairs. 

He swore as his leg again failed to support his weight sinking him back down to one knee. “Black Lord’s Bones, Ash!”  Suddenly, a large, calloused hand grasped his shoulder, pushing the woodsman back to the ground before he could react. 

“Hold still son, you have a nasty one there.” Brother Theo rumbled, as he ripped open Anders pants leg to reveal a grotesque bite mark: the bite was coated with some form of green liquid and it oozed blood like a small spring. The young warrior watched as Theo placed his hands over the wound and chanted a quick prayer to Zuras, the storm lord. Without knowing why, Ander lay still, trusting the worldly priest as he would his own father.  

“_Mists of the Storm, heal the flesh as you heal the soil_.” Theo chanted and Ander felt a soothing sensation, like morning dew, cover the wound on his leg and creep over his entire body. When the priest removed his hands from the bite mark, only a small scar was present. “I think I got to it before the infection could take hold. And now, my boy, we give chase!”

Ander felt the strength of the aging priest, as he was yanked to his feet and pulled toward the staircase. As the priest continued down the stairs, Ander paused to look over the railing to spy Ashrem. The woodsman saw his friend on the third landing about halfway down the switchback staircase and he watched as four more of the giant rats burst from the soft soil of the plateau wall out onto the stairs, surrounding the feloine. Seeing his friend in danger, Ander wasted no time in turning and springing down the stairs. The ranger could feel his step lengthen effortlessly as the wondrous powers of Icemantle’s boots, strengthened his legs and propelled him forward in long leaps. He quickly passed Theo on the winding trip down as each of his strides covered several steps, bringing him closer to the side of his feloine companion. 

“Ander, Don’t! The stairs are unstable!” Ander heard Ashrem roar as the woodsman jumped towards the second landing, Brother Theo close behind him. Unable to stop himself in mid-leap, the young woodsman tried to aim himself for the middle of the landing where he could try to balance himself if the feloine’s fears about the stairs were true; but as his weight impacted the iron surface, the entire landing shifted and pulled outward from the wall. Ander gripped the rail and managed to hold his position on the precarious precipice, but the young woodsman looked on in horror as Brother Theo was unable to follow suit and pitched over the side, arms flailing.  

Ander wrapped a leg around the railing and reached out for Theo, but all the woodsman was able to grasp was the empty space the priest used to occupy. Each second became a lifetime to the tracker as he watched his priestly companion tumble towards the ground. He looked on helplessly as Theo tried to grab the railing of the next landing down, where Ashrem was engaged with several rats. The aging cleric managed to grab a hold of the iron floor of the landing as he plummeted, and was able to maintain his grip on the unstable stairs; but the split second of added weight by the priest, combined with that of the dueling combatants, mirrored the effects of the first shifting landing, and sent another shock through the staircase as it strained against it’s moorings.

 Ander shifted his weight, balancing himself against the motion of the lurching switchback, and felt his stomach turn as he watched Theo and a trio of rats pitch away from the iron railing, spiraling toward the rocky rift floor.

*****

Tune in next timefor ...

"Stairs Make the Worst Battlefields," or "Ground Floor, Everybody Off!"


----------



## Enkhidu

*"Stairs Make the Worst Battlefields," or "Ground Floor, Everybody Off!"*

That's right, it's time for a new post, a new Point of View, and (hopefully) more input from you - the readers - on what character *you* want to see next!

Guess what - SPOILERS for the Sunless Citadel continue (though in a heavily modified form - dshai527 made a bunch of changes to this thing, from what I've been told/am finding out).

Oh, and tip of the day - 2 pirates in a Pinnace don't make an armada, no matter what the governor's daughter might say (maybe d'shai will tell that story at some point, but I _really_ hope he doesn't. It's just embarrassing...).

Anyway, without further ado...

Enjoy!

*****

Theo could feel his fingers slipping on the metal landing as it pulled away from the rising cliff face. The desperate cleric flailed his left arm seeking to dislodge the large wooden shield strapped tightly to his forearm, so that he could find a second handhold and secure his grip. Above him, the priest heard his ally Ashrem, along with his foes, get thrown to the landing and scramble madly to avoid sliding off the slanting switchback. 

Theo grunted, forcing all his strength into his aching fingers. The priest knew he could not hold on for long, but he needed to maintain his hold long enough for the slowly teetering landing to shift back towards the vine covered rock wall. To speed up the movement, the priest began kicking his legs to force the landing back into its moorings. Just as he felt the stairs shift though, fur-tufted bodies bowled into the priest, breaking his already fragile hold on the iron landing. 

For a moment it seemed as if time stopped, as Theo and three clawing rats hung in mid air; then the old cleric felt Gea’s Grasp enclose his body and yank downward. Frantically he reached out, grabbing and clawing at the air in a desperate attempt to find something to save him from the stone teeth that waited below, promising to smash his bones. Images of his life flashed through his head: his brother, his marriage, the Demon War, the burial of his wife, Muriel, and his finally his vow to Zuras that he would find vengeance for her death. 

With thunderous rage, Theo lashed out towards the vine coated wall one last time. “Zuras help me now so that my vow does not go unfulfilled!” As if in answer, the priest’s fingers met the resistance of dried foliage. Quickly the priest closed his fingers around the rotting vines, trying to haul himself in towards their safe embrace, but vine after vine broke underneath his great weight until his fingers felt as if they were being yanked from his palm.

With each snap of broken vine, Theo could feel himself slowing and with renewed effort he plunged his arm into the tangled mess. Since he had been unable to dislodge his immense shield, the priest now buried its edge into the mesh as well. For a moment, he thought it would work, but quickly realized it would not be enough and tucked himself behind his shield, bracing himself for the inevitable impact.

The impact was not quite what the priest had expected: instead of one heavy and fatal impact, his body was assaulted with a dozen small ones. As he hit the widening base of the plateau, his head slammed into his shield so hard he nearly bit his tongue in two, while his legs pounded into each other with such force that they felt fused into one. Dazed, Theo bounced down the angled cliff side, rolling over and over so all sides of his body were equally pummeled by the rocky facing. 

When he finally rolled to a stop, Theo felt as if he had been caught in a wheat grinder and somehow survived. Blood flowed freely from his mouth and his head felt as if it weighed more than the chain armor he wore. Fast moving spots plagued his vision of a now rotating world, while a dark fog assaulted his thoughts, making both movement and comprehension difficult. Worst, he could no longer feel his shield arm. Focusing his thoughts and his strength, the cleric tried to regain his feet and signal his comrades that he was okay, but as he lifted his head, the world swam and a hissing noise came from high above. The cleric was not the only one to survive the fall. 

Grim faced, Theo painfully turned his head to see two of the red-eyed rats running down the vines, like squirrels running down a tree. He swore as he tried to shake the cobwebs from his brain. Realizing that he only had heartbeats before they were upon him, the cleric swung his backpack around using his good arm, hoping that the padded box that held Father Lion’s healing potions was still intact.  Flipping the metal latch, Theo yanked open the small box, letting out a small sigh of relief at the sight of the undamaged bottles. He snatched one and ripped the wax seal off with his teeth. Taking a deep breath to prepare for what he knew was to come, the priest drained the contents of the small silver vial. 

Theo felt as if a fire had erupted in his mouth and the cleric tensed as he felt the flames spread, igniting every nerve throughout his body. The sensation of the dwarven healing drought wasn’t exactly painful, but at the same time it was none too pleasant to the aged priest. He felt the pulling and stretching of bone and muscle as his wounds mended and his blood clotted in an instant. Then with a shudder, he found his feet as the pair of rats bounded to the ground. 

The burning sensation passed as he stared at the rats and his eyes narrowed as he saw that one of them stood over his flail. With a grunt, he lowered his shoulder and charged in, raising his shield in front of him; the rats screeched as he plowed into the one guarding his weapon, knocking it backward into the vines. The other rat skittered around behind him, and snapped ineffectively at his legs.

The aging priest bent low and pivoted in place, grasping the haft of his flail as he did. Then with a single motion he brought the spiked head and chain in a huge arc and down into the back of the biting rat. With the crunch of bone, the heavy threshing knob snapped the rodent’s spine and drove it into the rock strewn ground, leaving a slowly spreading patch of crimson. 

Pain ripped through Theo’s senses as the cleric realized he had fallen prey to the rat’s cunning flank. He pulled away as blood dripped from the fresh gash that adorned his left thigh and turned to face his adversary, who seemed to mock the cleric by licking the blood from its snout. Gritting his teeth, the warrior priest stormed forward with his flail whistling out before him. 

Theo felt his mind slip as his training took over. He could hear the calls of the arms masters as he swung his weapon with deadly accuracy, barely noting the sharp pain in his forearm. He felt blow after blow land on the fur covered hide of his target, as impact after impact registered on his shield. With a final thud, the priest realized that his enemy lay still, its life essence flowing into the blood soaked soil. 

Theo breathed a relieved sigh and said a little prayer, “By the rain, Winged Lord, I owe you thanks.” He looked up toward the stairs. The iron railings and platforms had stopped swaying, and his companions seemed to have dealt with the surviving rats: with Ashrem leading the way, the four began making their way slowly down the remaining switchbacks. Bringing his attention back to the now quiet ground, the cleric saw the corpses of his two adversaries, as well as the splattered remains of what once was the third rat. Then, rounding the base of the plateau and looking out into the fog, Theo saw something that took his breath away.

There, secluded in a crevice, stood a keep. Hidden from view by the mists, and separated from the landing by a small courtyard, it seemed untouched by time, save for the heavy layer of vines that covered brick and cobblestone. Turning back toward the stair, he waved to his young friends and took a deep breath to call them down when he heard the rustling of vines up ahead.

Moments later, he was running toward the stair with a half dozen rats in pursuit…

*****

Next time!

"Crossing the Courtyard" or "Chutes and Ladders"

(And if my cohort keeps making me write these stupid titles, I'm going to make him start posting. And here I thought the pirate thing was embarrassing...)


----------



## Enkhidu

*Crossing the Courtyard or Chutes and Ladders*

Hi all!

My cohort in crime, Dshai527, suggested that we make a concerted effort to start posting more often (two times a week if possible) until we catch up, so here we are with another update.

Once again, it comes with a switch of point of view, this time through the eyes of your favorite sorceress. Hopefully these frequent switches are giving you a taste of what's underneath the exteriors of these characters!

Well, I'd better get to posting before D'shai (who's standing over my shoulder this very second) decides to make me put in another one of those...

Dang it, he already came up with one.

OK - "tip of the day"

Beavers don't live in pajamas. Unless invited.

Don't ask me - I have no idea where he comes up with these things.

Enjoy!

*****

Aurora’s thin brow furrowed in concentration as she finished her quick incantation and pointed at the last rat visible on the stairs. She felt the surge of magical energies swell in her fingertips and lash out, taking the form of a single purple dragon’s maw, just as she envisioned it. The eldritch missile streaked unerringly toward her target, and burst into its side: with a squeal, the huge rodent fell heavily to the iron lattice floor. Exhausted from the channeling of multiple spells, yet at the same time tingling with lingering pleasure, Aurora let her arms fall heavily to her sides, while she peered over the edge to her companions on the stairs.

“My thanks, Aurora. I do believe that is the last of them.” Ashrem’s silky tenor carried up from below, confirming what the young sorceress had already surmised. “And I have good news. Brother Theo is moving down there, and the rats that fell with him are not.” 

On hearing that Theo was still alive, Aurora let out a long, relieved sigh. She looked over at Pack, standing close by, and saw that the halfling could barely contain his joy at the news – the red haired spellcaster imagined he might burst at any moment – and she could see him visibly fight the urge to run right down the rickety staircase.

Ander called out from the stairs, “As long as you take it slow, you should be able to get down without a problem.” As if to dispute the exotic woodsman’s statement, the iron railings creaked in reply, but Aurora saw that Pack was already on his way to the first landing. With a shrug, she followed him down the switchback.

With Ashrem in the lead, the four made their way down the stairwell. Aurora stretched her limbs as she walked after her companions. It had been quite some time since she had worked this hard. This was definitely more exciting than life in the city, studying books and dusting shelves in the library. The young sorceress paused to examine the carcass of one of the bloated rats as she came down to the third landing. A wicked grin was locked on the dead rodent’s jaw, while pus oozed from the burn mark that her missile had left. Aurora felt her stomach tightening at the sight and tried not to retch as she hastily continued down the stairs. 

A flurry of wings descended on the railing next to the fleeing sorceress as she hurried from the grisly scene. The sight of Athena, her trusted companion, calmed the maiden’s nerves and she stopped to ruffle the owl’s head feathers. Her hand stopped short as Athena sent her a grim message. Mistress Sunrise, the bloated food is hunting the old wise one. 

Aurora gripped the rail and leaned over to view the area where she suspected the cleric might be. At first glance the concerned mage saw no sign of the priest through the mists. Then a lone figure rounded the base of the plateau at a full run, a pack of rabid rodents on his heels. Panic gripped the young sorceress as she watched the old warrior turn to face his attackers. She shrieked a warning. “Ander! Ashrem! Theo’s in trouble! He needs help, now!” 

Without hesitation, both warriors rushed to aid their companion. Aurora gasped as the pair leapt over the railing of the fourth landing and fell the twenty feet toward the ground. Ander hit the ground softly with wisps of smoke billowing out from under his boots that the sorceress automatically recognized as a magical effect. The shadowy feloine amazed the naïve maiden by gracefully landing on his feet and then tucking into a perfect roll that left him standing with his short blade drawn and ready. Then the two rushed off toward the hard pressed cleric.

The young mage turned her attention back to Theo, who had managed to out maneuver the rats following him. He had turned to face them in a narrow part of the gap between the plateau and the ravine wall, and this had stopped them from surrounding him completely, but he still looked overmatched. Rats snapped and bit at his legs and torso, while he sought to fend off their teeth with quick movements of his shield. Even as far away as she was, Aurora could tell he was tiring quickly.

Suddenly, Ander was there, rushing up behind and then leaping over the cleric just as the old campaigner stepped back. The handsome woodsman rooted himself in Theo’s place and his quarterstaff became a blur as he fended off attack after attack. While Ander covered the retreat, Ashrem pulled Theo away from the fight and back to relative safety. Aurora could barely hear the old priest’s booming voice warning the young warriors that these were no ordinary rats.

A tendril of mist passed between Aurora and her companions, obscuring her view of the fight below. Quickly – a bit too quickly, as the staircase rocked with her motions – she climbed down another flight of steps and onto the next platform of the switchback. Her view now unobstructed, she saw the skirmish take a turn for the worse.
Ander still stood his ground, but the rats had managed to surround him even in the tight confines of the gap. They clung to vines and rocks in the walls near the ranger, and nipped and clawed at his shoulders, while one large rat in front of him, standing atop the brown furred carcass of another rodent, kept him busy with a flurry of bites at his midsection. From her vantage point, Aurora saw that Ander had a large bite on his shoulder, and it seemed to pain him as he fought.

Behind the exotic young man, Aurora saw Ashrem fending off any attempts by the rats to completely surround the woodsman, but he was not quite close enough to his targets to cause any harm. The rodents seemed quite content to gnaw on the human in front of them, rather than the dangerous looking feloine behind their easy meal. From the fray, the mage heard Ander cry out in pain, as one of the rats on his flank sank teeth into flesh.

Then the music began. Pack’s high voice washed over Aurora as the bard began to sing. His clear, bell-like pitch tolled out the words to a song the sorceress had heard only one time before, during the raid by the kobolds; but where Theo’s voice had carried over that battlefield like a cry to the gods for help, the halfling’s version of _Trennor’s Triumph_ rang out with something much more. It carried hope.

Aurora found herself singing along in a low soft voice, and the priest also joined in, thundering out as if the words alone would defeat the enemy. Ander began swinging his quarterstaff almost rhythmically, cracking home one blow and then another at the rat on his left, and Ashrem finally managed to bring his sword down on that same rat, toppling it lifeless from its perch.

The red haired sorceress maneuvered herself into a more advantageous position as she nervously gripped the wand Lizon had given her and brought it to bear. With a word in Dragon’s Tongue she activated the wand, and two snapping dragons flew from its tip and sped toward the rat on Ander’s right as it climbed higher in the vine lattice. With a squeal it fell limp, its hide smoking as it hung caught in the vines.

Theo had not been idle, and he now stood tall, seemingly cured of his wounds. As Aurora watched with wide eyes, he held his shield out in front of him and stopped singing long enough to shout out to Zuras. Even in the sun, the flash from his shield nearly blinded her as a thin stroke of lightning arced out and caught another of the rats, causing it to screech in pain. Immediately after, she heard a thump and saw it fall to the ground. Glancing back down at Pack, who stood on a landing lower than the sorceress, she saw that he was recovering from a sling throw.

The remaining two rats then broke and ran, but fell in their tracks from a combination of another pair of dragon’s head missiles, a bullet from Pack’s sling and another arc of lightning from Brother Theo. 

Aurora made her way down to the ground more slowly as she saw Ashrem move cautiously forward around the plateau, beyond her view. He seemed to be sniffing, and his large, cat-like ears swiveled in response to what the sorceress assumed were various sounds. Pack had ended his song, and the companions looked at one another with tense smiles on their faces. When Ashrem returned, the companions all glanced over at him.

“I do not sense any more. I believe that we have dealt with the last of them,” he stated. Aurora heard Pack breathe a sigh of what she thought might be relief, and she immediately joined the halfling in a broad faced grin. 

“Then we made it!” the bard shouted, almost child-like. “We made it! Did you see how far we came down?” He pointed up at the top of the plateau. Aurora followed his finger up, and could barely make out Athena circling the grassy top through the mists.

Ander’s smooth baritone broke into the conversation. “I think the real question is ‘where are we now’, and I for one would like to find out,” he stated nonchalantly, as if he had not just been in a battle for his life. Brother Theo stood close by the woodsman, and was busily wrapping his more serious bite marks. Aurora could tell by the older man’s face that young man’s condition was probably worse than the ranger was willing to admit. “What’s up ahead, Ashrem,” he directed at the rag wrapped once-beggar.

“Around this bend, there is a vine covered courtyard, and a door set in a fortified stone wall. No sign of anything alive.”

“Then we need to check it out.” The rugged woodsman looked at Aurora with deep set eyes as he stretched his legs and set off towards the bend. He held her gaze for a moment: “Coming?” Then he was out of sight.

Aurora followed closely after, falling into line behind Ashrem. She spied Ander already well into the courtyard, picking his way through the vines that covered the ground up to the knee. The ranger made a beeline straight for a door set in the wall. 

“Looks like this is the place,” the young man called out, stopping to turn around and look at back at the trio. “Don’t worry about the vines. It’s all solid flagstones underneath. No problem at all.” Then he turned around and took a careful step toward to the door.

With a surprised shout, Ander disappeared beneath the vines.

*****

Next Time!

“Pitfalls,” or “Good Thing I’m Not Afraid of the Dark”


----------



## Enkhidu

*"Pitfalls", or "Good Thing I’m Not Afraid of the Dark"*

Well, here it is. The end of the first chapter of the Small Beginnings Story Hour. I hope you've enjoyed it so far!

We will be archiving this portion of the story (as long as Morrus can accomodate us), so if you're new to the story so far, you can play catch up in the Story Hour archive. Feel free to point anyone who might like this story hour to that resource! Oh, and there's a goodly amount of other story hours there as well - make sure you read at least one other one on there!

And without further ado I'll get....

Oh crikey - OK here's the Tip of the Day:

"Six goblins wearing eyepatches in a canoe going across a river to ambush the PC's does not constitute a Pirate Campaign, no matter how many times you make them say 'Arrr.'" 

D'Shai well and truly has pirates on the brain.

Now, as I was saying...

Enjoy!

*****

Ander heard the shifting of stone as the ground lurched beneath his feet and suddenly he stood on nothing but the breeze. Down he fell, through the thick layer of vines and toward the darkness below. If he had jumped the distance and been prepared for it, Icemantle’s boots would have protected him, just as they had when he leapt from the iron railing; but as it was, his feet came to rest heavily on the hard floor and his legs buckled beneath him. He crumpled as the unforgiving ground pummeled his body, as he groaned in pain and clutched his knee. After a few moments, his pain stopped, though he was not sure if it was the result of the numbness that set in or not.

Ander’s eyes adjusted to the thin streams of sunlight that filtered through the dense layer of vines above and illuminated a small patch directly beneath the opening, but the woodsman could tell that the chamber he was now in was larger than what little he could see. He struggled to his feet, supporting most of his weight on his staff, and looked around. Dead vines and bits of debris littered the dirt floor; but worst of all, the chamber smelled of something putrid, or dead, or both.

To Ander, shapes and images seemed to form in the darkness, only to disappear when he tried to search them out. Quickly he spun around using his staff as a pivot, straining to see what lay in the shadows. A sudden shuffle from above followed by Aurora’s melodic voice calmed the rising panic within the young ranger. “Are you okay Ander? We’re going to get you out.” 

The woodsman took a deep breath to answer when he heard a series of loud clicks, and the trapdoor he had fallen through quickly began closing. “Bones!” he shouted. The thin beams of light were diminishing until only cracks of light were left and the young ranger glanced about frantically searching for something to prop open the door when, through the din of sliding stone, he heard a rustling, followed by an animal’s sneeze. Peering into the blackness, he searched for the source of the noise. Two beady red eyes, which held their small light even after the stone door above had slid into place, returned his gaze until the final click plunged the chamber into darkness.

Ander had always had a special gift with animals, but he could tell by the aggressive behavior of the rats before that nothing could stop rodents of such dire size from attacking if they were hungry, and so he acted. With a shuffled step, he brought his staff across hard into where he thought the body of the rat might be and was rewarded with a loud smack as his weapon struck soundly home. A low hiss caught his ears, and then the red eyes faded and disappeared, swallowed by the darkness. The scurry of clawed feet to his right caused the young warrior to lash out with his staff. His only reward was the empty swish of air and sudden slashing pain as something darted between his legs, taking a bite with it. A quick reverse thrust also found nothing but the blank space and earned the blind warrior yet another seeping wound.  

Ander spun in circles trying to track his foe. Every sound brought an immediate strike from the young man’s walking staff, but none of them found their mark in the eerie darkness. His opponent had no such problems: the woodsman felt bite after bite tear through his flesh. The ranger could feel a half dozen cuts trickling blood, and his previous wounds from the last fight had begun to ache as well. He knew that if he didn’t act soon, his companions would find him in a rat’s belly. 

Reaching into his belt pouch, Ander tried to find the healing draught that Theo had given to each of them. Without light he was forced to fumble inside the thick leather bag for the heavy silver flask. His fingers brushed against three vials in the bag, which caused the woodsman concern until he remembered that he had a pair of Wishbone’s Brews of Health in there as well. Since he couldn’t see, the woodsman withdrew the first vial in the pouch, leaving his fate to Tone, the Bringer of Good Fortune.

Knowing that either vial would aid his chances in survival, Ander quickly pulled out the stopper and chugged the vial’s contents. Before he had even fully drained the container, he felt his heart begin to race, and his muscles clenched, bursting with power the young man had never before felt.  His wounds did not heal, but he could no longer feel their sting. The woodsman kicked back his head and finished off the liquid, throwing a one handed  blow in the direction of the last attack in order to keep the creature at bay. Suddenly he was bathed in streams of sunlight as the trap door directly above him popped open with a heavy click.

He forced his eyes closed in surprise, and heard a sharp squeal behind him as the rat was forced to deal with the same light. His eyes had yet to adjust fully to the darkness, so he regained his sight relatively quickly; but he could only imagine how painful the sudden daylight was to the rat he was fighting. While he cleared his head, he heard rope slide over stone. “Ander. Take hold of this rope and we will lift you out.” Ashrem’s voice seemed unhurried.

“Ash! There’s a rat down here in the… AHHH!” The rat had recovered more quickly than Ander had thought, and sunk teeth into his thigh. Ander shook it off and shouted, “Get out of the way! I’m coming up!” Then the woodsman leapt.

Icemantle’s boots propelled him upward, and he easily cleared the gap between the floor and the opening. His hands gripped the edge of the stone and heaved upward, lifting his waist even with the now cleared patch of stone around the pit’s trapdoor. Theo stood nearby, dumbfounded as the ranger casually reached out his quarterstaff for help. The young man smiled as the priest grasped its haft and said, “Ready? Pull!”

Ander grabbed hold and pulled with all of his might, but Theo seemed unprepared for the newly acquired power of the woodsman’s arm. A look of confusion was fixed on the cleric’s face as he was yanked over the side and toppled into the pit. Then Ander heard a familiar clicking sound as the pit began to winch closed.

Kicking his legs, the ranger brought himself up to the surface where he saw Ashrem loading a crossbow. “I will need you to keep this trap door open, if you can,” the feloine stated. Ander moved to the side of the trapdoor and lowered his legs into the pit, finding a foothold on the quickly closing stone door. Then he pushed, using the power that flowed through his body from Wishbone’s potion. His legs quivered and he felt muscles bulge and rip at the strain, but the door did not close.

Below, he heard Brother Theo murmur a quick prayer to Zuras, and light flooded the chamber beneath. “Hold it steady, Ander,” Ashrem said to him as he took aim. With a twang, he let fly the bolt, and Ander heard a squeal from below. “Brother Theo,” said the feloine, “are there any more rodents down there?”

“No. I’ll take the rope out if you can hoist me up.”

“Excellent. If you can continue, Ander?”

The woodsman, gasped out a thin “Yes!” as he continued to strain against whatever mechanism tried to close the trapdoor. With renewed effort he heaved against the door, and suddenly found himself failing. The young man felt the potion he had taken run its course and leave him. “No!” he shouted as his legs began to collapse beneath him. As his strength left him, the door closed, pushing him back toward the surface. He rolled to the side, drained of even his natural strength, as the pain of all of his injuries came flooding back to him

“Brother Theo should come to no harm if there are no more rats in the pit,” Ashrem said, standing over Ander, staring at him as if to ask ‘What next?’ Ander paused, blankly holding the feloine’s gaze. A sudden sense of helplessness washed over the exhausted ranger, but he could feel the eyes of his companions boring into him, pleading with him to take action.

“Aurora, Pack, It will take all of us to free him.” Ander said at last. “I will hold the door open and it will be up to you three to lift Theo out. Ash, Have your crossbow ready just in case.” 

“Are you sure you are up to this Ander?” Aurora questioned. 

“Yeah, Ander.” Pack pitched in “I’m sure we can think of another way to do it, if…”

“I’m fine” Ander mumbled, averting his eyes as his own self-doubt began to rise in his stomach. 

Ashrem nodded silently and rose, directing Pack and Aurora to prepare another length of rope while Ander sat on the ground shaking with weakness. The woodsman shook his head, got unsteadily to his feet, and began moving around to loosen sore muscles and walk off the pain. All the while, Ander listened as the others organized themselves to pull the priest to the surface. By the time the woodsman was ready, his three companions were ready as well.

Ashrem stood near the pit, ready to trigger it, while Ander took his position sitting near the end that would swing wide. Aurora and Pack stood nearby, bracing the rope that would haul the cleric up. On the count of three, the feloine triggered the pit trap and the door popped open. As if on cue, Ander threw his legs over the side and braced them there. He then used his staff to push against the stone door, keeping it from swinging back closed. The rope was tossed over the side, and shouts of encouragement were thrown down to the cleric, who began climbing hand over hand to the surface. 

Ashrem moved behind the pair holding the rope and all three dug in as the line creaked: Ander watched them strain against Theo’s weight, fighting against the slip that seemed ready to happened at any moment and tumble them all into the pit. Then the young man head the click of gears and the sound of stone on stone as the door began to push against his staff. He leaned in, his body straining to keep the door open, but found himself being pushed farther backward as the stone drew inexorably closer. In his weakened condition he knew he could not hope to keep the stone door ajar.

Determined not to give in to his rising doubts, Ander heaved against the ironwood staff pushing with all of his diminished might, and found some of his natural strength returning to his limbs. Slowly, the door came to a halt, leaving an opening just wide enough for the aging priest to poke his head, then his shoulders above the edge of the stone. As the cleric rolled out of the pit, Ander’s grip on the staff slipped, and the woodsman fought to maintain control of the door. Quickly he yanked his legs from the pit, narrowly avoiding the crushing stone as the door slammed home with a heavy thud.

Knowing that everyone was safe, Ander closed his eyes and lay back in the thick vines, struggling to control his labored breathing.  He could hear his companions also breathing heavily and settling in for a moments rest. The woodsman was almost startled as he felt strong hands rest upon his chest followed by Theo’s prayer and the comforting flow of Zuras’ reply as his wounds healed once again. 

Once the calming sensation had worn away, Ander sat up and opened his eyes. After a quick nod and smile toward Theo to thank him and his patron for their gift, the woodsman eyed the rest of his companions. To his astonishment, each member of the group was glowing with pride and congratulating each other for their contribution and teamwork in the arrival to this unknown citadel. As he watched his friends, Ander felt his own emotions bubbling up and soon he was joining in the tiny celebration.  

Ander only half listened as Pack retold the now epic journey down the switchback stairs. The young woodsman’s eyes were already looking at the ancient tower that stood before him, shrouded in the foreboding shadow of the massive cliff. One by one he felt his friends join his gaze at the massive structure and he knew that they shared his sudden sobriety as the full weight of their mission came crashing down. Somewhere deep within the halls of this sunless citadel lay the answers to their quest and each member knew, it was just the beginning. 


END OF CHAPTER ONE OF _SMALL BEGINNINGS_

*****

Next Time join us for the beginning of part 2 of our saga:

"Into the Sunless Citadel," or "Rats! Why did it have to be Rats?"


----------



## dshai527

Enk and I have decided to give everyone a special surprise and post a preview of Chapter II. 

Hope you Ashrem fans enjoy it. 

********************************
Ashrem swore softly to himself for not bringing any catnip along to compliment his complete breakfast. “Grrrrreeeaaat.” He stammered. “Just Greeeaaat.” His father Bagheera would be furious with him, he knew. Slumping his shoulders and stomping his feet, the great feloine sulked after his companions. “I wonder if they know about second breakfast and self washing.” He muttered angrily, while hacking to dislodge a fur ball from last night’s bathing experience.  His only hope now was that this run down old citadel had some plush furniture, drapes or a big timber for him to sharpen his claws on, because it was obvious that there would be no sunbeams to stretch out in. The feloine paused wondering if Ander would really appreciate the carcass of the rat he had killed on the stairs, but with a quick shrug he decided to move on and find out. 

Next Time 

" Days of our 9 lives" or " Do cats get dandruff"


----------



## Enkhidu

*Part II of Small Beginnings!*

Hi all!

Well, my cohort in creative crime and I have been hard at work putting together some of the things you've been asking for: more background, more stats, and more Small Beginnings.

Over the next couple weeks, in addition to at least one update a week you can look for what we're terming "flashbacks." Look for them to be posted by dshai527 in order to separate them from the story proper. Basically, they're short stories showcasing one or two characters at a time. Depending on the length of the flashbacks, we'll be posting them in in either one or two parts per character. If I'm right, the first one will involve a certain Orloff: you know, of Woods fame...

Also, we're finishing up PC stat blocks, and we'll be starting a thread in the Rogue's Gallery Forum sometime soon  - probably over the next few days.

Now on with the...

Dangit, even over email that so-and-so can manage to remind me to include the tip of the day. This one takes the form of a logic statement.

"It is good to keep HULK happy. Beans make HULK happy. Therefore beans are good."

Don't ask me.

Now where was I? Oh yes...

As promised, we start Part II of Small Beginnings out with an Interlude...


*****

INTERLUDE

A sharp prod on her backside yanked her from the blissful sleep that she was enjoying. With a grunt, the bloated rat queen rolled onto her belly to face her prodder and dole out punishment for the intrusion. The queen yawned, taking in the aroma of death and decay that hung in the air, and looked lazily about the dim chamber. Her eyes adjusted slowly in her drowsy state, but her keen sense of smell told the mother rat that her bestest child warrior was cowering behind the remnants of last night’s dinner. The queen swelled with pride at the fear that her subject showed and lashed out smashing the bone-hiding place with her massive jaws, sending the frightened warrior scurrying for new cover. 

The bloated queen opened her massive jaws and hissed out a hoarse laugh that soon transformed into a fit of coughing; it spewed snot and phlegm out into the chamber coating the piles of bones and rotting garbage. When the mother rat recovered from the uncontrollable fit, her anger had returned. With a hiss, she summoned her subject to come before her. She watched and waited as the warrior rat peeked his head from his new hiding place and shambled forward. 

A quick snap of the queen’s head taught the warrior the error of his ways, as her teeth tore clean through its ear. The queen grinned as the warrior squealed in pain and dropped down onto its belly and averted its eyes to show that it had learned its lesson. The queen looked on in amusement as the warrior now tried to move toward the queen wriggling on its belly. Just before the warrior reached the queens side, she began sharpening her teeth on the stone floor. 

The queen continued this practice long after her subject reached her side and lay down. She enjoyed the shivering ripples of his muscles as each scrap echoed through the chamber. Satisfied that her teeth were now able to shear the warrior’s other ear off rather than leaving it hanging against his head, she turned her attention back to her subject. She prodded the lowly warrior, confident that he would not forget his place again. 

In response to the fierce poking, the warrior rolled onto its back and faced her. With a hacking cough, the warrior opened his mouth and spit out a mouthful of garbage. The queen mother snarled one last time and then eyed the present that the warrior had delivered. She identified a smooth stone, a shiny thing, and wad of vines. 

Stepping closer the rat queen sniffed at each of the items. The smooth stone smelled of the light skinned two-legs, and she knew that it was one of the rocks that they hurled at her subjects to smash their heads. The shiny thing smelled of a larger light skinned two-leg on the outside but a small round hole on the top smelled differently. The queen mother grabbed the shiny thing in her teeth and sucked on the hole as she would suck on a bone to get the sweet marrow out. Remnants of liquid touched her tongue from within the small container but the taste was foreign to her and not at all pleasant. With a grunt she turned her attention to the wad of vines and smelled the pleasant aroma of two-leg blood. With closer inspection the queen identified two different scents of two-legs along with the scent of the two-leg that once possessed the shiny thing. 

The queen’s stomach rumbled at the smells before her and she realized that it had been some time since she had feasted on the flesh of light skinned two-legs. She knew that she was tired of the hard-fleshed dark skins and the sour taste of their blood. With a shrill bark the queen rat began summoning her subjects. If the light skinned walked within her tunnels then soon she would feast upon their sweet flesh. 


END OF INTERLUDE

*****

Check back soon for flashbacks, infobites, and more of Part II of Small Beginnings!


----------



## dshai527

*Ander and the Bear: Part I*

Thanks once again to all of our readers and a special thanks to those of you who choose to post and let us know how you feel about our story. (Yes we do sometimes sit around the table and talk about which posters we think are the coolest. Sorry Spider but HULK bumped you from my top spot, I am afraid he will smash me if he isn't) 

We really enjoy reading all the feedback on the story or just chatting in general, so if you read please post. Even if its just to say HI. Frankly, we crave the attention.

Oh boy Tip o' the Day time...I don't get special effects like Letterman or Leno...today's is more of a reminder than a tip

"Remember September 19 is National Talk Like a Pirate Day"

Talk like a Pirate Link 


Well on with the show

Our first installment of the History of our Heroes

**************************************************
Ander and the Bear
Part 1 of 2

Snow creaked under the young woodsman’s feet as he bent low to examine the trail. A soft flurry of new flakes floated silently around him, making it hard to determine the trail that he was investigating. Instinctively, he pulled the woolen cloak tighter about his body and shivered at the cold. The white landscape and the bitter temperature reminded him that he was a long way from the land of his birth, but he knew he would most likely never see it again. In fact, with all the snow around him, he doubted that he would ever feel the warmth of the sun again. 

Shaking his head, Ander, the self-proclaimed woodsman, tried to get his thoughts back on the task a hand. The snow was falling too quickly and was covering any tracks that the little girl may have left. Though she had only been missing for a little more than half a day, Ander knew he had little chance to find her. He was new to this forest that the locals called Orloff’s Woods, but since he was given the sole rights to hunt and trap in it he felt responsible for any persons who disappeared or found themselves lost in it. He did find it odd that the Trapper family had given him charge of the largest track in the area, but he figured they were just comfortable with their usual grounds. Small village folk tended not to like change, he guessed. 

Ander sighed and started to move to his left down what he thought was an old logging path when he noticed a patch of undergrowth sticking up through the snow. The other areas showed no other signs of underbrush, as the heavy snowfall weighed it all down and packed it under. The woodsman knew that only movement in that area would make the brush stick up through the snow again.

Knowing that he might be following the path of some woodland creature instead, Ander set off following the sparse trail of oddities that formed in the direction indicated by the undergrowth. A tree with no snow packed to its truck, as if someone or something had sheltered there, showed that the trail turned north heading near one of Ander’s usual trapping lines. Ander swore under his breath, hoping that the little girl hadn’t wandered into one of his winter traps. He was already an outcast in the tight community of Icemist, and this would not help his image any. Worse, his traps were humane enough to kill instantly: if he found her in one of his traps, she would already be dead.

Ander picked up his pace and raced along the hunting trail avoiding the hidden traps and snares that he had lying throughout the thick forest. His boots crunched through the snow, echoing loudly in the white silence. Suddenly the woodsman’s feet were jerked out from underneath him, and the world flipped upside down as his feet were yanked above his head. His body was hoisted into the air as he witnessed a snow-covered sapling bending upward to straighten itself. 

The woodsman felt his feet slip from his hunting boots and he tumbled heavily to the ground forcing his breath to leave his body like a fast winter wind. For a moment the southern ranger lay in the snow catching his breath trying to piece together the strange incident: he knew that he hadn’t laid any traps in this location and he was sure that the locals honored his rights to these woods, almost as if they were afraid of it. Ander sat up to examine the snare, trying to divine some clue as to its origin. It was a simple tree snare with a rope loop, and with all the snow he had not seen the bent over sapling. It was only luck that he was breaking in his new, a bit too large, hunting boots. “Black Lord’s Bones,” he muttered to himself in his native tongue. “You’d think I was new at this.”

Ander stood up feeling the cold snow on his now bare feet. Shivering he moved to collect his boots from the simple snare. Jumping up he grabbed hold of the rope noose and pulled down with the weight of his body. He quickly removed his boots from the now loose hoop only to find that there was only a single boot left in the trap. The other must have been flung away when the tree snapped back after he fell. A quick scout of the immediate area showed no signs of the lone foot covering; the icy ground was beginning to burn the skin on the young woodsman’s feet.

Ander knew the danger that he was facing and immediately slashed at his cloak with his curved hunting knife creating long strips of the wool. He replaced his lone fur lined boot on his coldest foot and wrapped the other using the strips of cloth. He knew it was a temporary solution but it should last long enough to return him to his cabin. 

As he turned to start back, Ander heard voices over a small rise to his right. The young woodsman froze when he realized they were not speaking the common tongue of this region, something he had only recently mastered himself. Crouching down he wormed his way on his belly to the thick evergreens that topped the rise.

Peering out from the thick needles, the woodsman learned the answer to his questions about the snare trap. A pair of short fur-covered humanoids wandered down a fresh pathway. They had skin the color of red-hot embers showing through the gaps in their hide armor and open-faced helmets and they chatted at each other with words that caused their mouth to open wide, emphasizing rows of sharp teeth. They carried short hunting spears along with a pair of javelins strapped to their packs. One of the creatures even had coils of rope hanging from his back, as well as a set of iron jaw traps. 

Ander waited under the cover of the great pine tree allowing his heart to slow after what he had just witnessed. He knew that a trip back to his cabin would have to wait: if creature like those found the child before he did, she wouldn’t have a chance. Once he was sure that the creatures would not double back, he rolled out from the covering and began tracing their steps. 

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


----------



## dshai527

I know I originally said that Ander and the Bear was going to be a two-part story, but as we got writing, the storyboard just kept getting longer and longer as we added detail and tried to get the "feel" of the charater. We hope that it comes through, and we hope to keep it going with the other back stories we plan to do. 

As for this story, it has turned into a three-parter. More bang for your buck. We will post part 2 today and give you the finale tomorrow. Hope you enjoy it. Oh, and let us know who you wanna see back story for next. (yes HULK we know, Worm or you'll smash us)

On that note Tip O' the Day (this one comes from Ray in New York)
"If Someone asks if you're a GOD (or a pirate), you answer YES!"

I know we stole that from a movie, but hey I'm late for a meeting today. Have Fun!

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

Ander and the Bear 

Part 2 of 527

With great caution Ander trailed the mysterious pair, making sure to remain out of sight and stepping where his footfalls would make the least amount of noise. The tracker followed until he heard their raspy voices coming from up ahead, around a snowdrift. He paused and listened, waiting for some indication as to why the pair had stopped, and a new voice, much deeper than the others, joined in the conversation. The voice barked out authoritatively, its staccato syllables accompanied by sounds of punching and slapping. 

Using the noisy outbreak to his advantage, Ander pushed off the small trail and into the trees in order to circle the unseen trio. Moving carefully, the woodsman picked his way around the snow bank and found a suitable hiding place behind a boulder on the other side of his prey. On his way there, he scooped a small handful of snow into his mouth, and by the time he had found his spot his breath was as invisible as if spring had just begun.

 Once settled in and confident of his camouflage, Ander peeked around the snow-covered rock to see the cause of the commotion. The first thing that the novice ranger noted was the ensuing argument between the two trap-laying creatures and a larger scar-faced version of their kind. The larger one, Ander assumed him to be the leader, seemed to be berating them and pointing somewhere out of the young man’s field of view from his perch behind the rock. Whatever the reason behind the abuse, it appeared to the tracker that the argument was quite heated. 

Moving slowly, the ranger leaned out over the other edge of the rock to get a peek at the cause of such a feud. Ander could see that these creatures had made a small camp behind an uprooted tree. The tree looked new-fallen, likely due to the heavy snowfall, and the goblins, for he was now sure that that is what they were, though he had never seen one, were using the roots as cover against the freezing wind. 

Ander almost winced as he peered further around the rock to see a spear-wielding sentry standing only a few feet from his position, followed by five more of the small flame-skins huddled around a coal pit. The woodsman fought to remain clam, seeing that the goblins all appeared to be enjoying the misery of their berated companions. Not knowing how much time he had left, Ander took a chance and leaned farther out, exposing himself a little more than he would like, in order to get a look at what was beyond the coal pit before deciding his next action. 

Ander felt a scowl form on his face as he spied the unmistakable golden hair of the missing child, the same bright colored curls that adorned his youngest sister’s head, lying just to the side of the coal pit wrapped in dirty blankets. The young girl lay with her back to the ranger, but he could still make out her rhythmic breathing, indicating that she was probably asleep. He could also make out a small loop of rope lying over her shoulder and guessed that the goblins had bound her in some way. 

  Pulling himself back behind the stone cover, Ander swore softly to himself, knowing that he could not overcome such lopsided odds. Even with the element of surprise, he was far outnumbered and could not afford the time to go get help. Worse, he had lost feeling in his left foot, he needed to act soon to avoid permanent damage to his appendage. The woodsman tasted blood and realized he had once again bit his lip in angry concentration. _I won’t fail again. I won’t let this little girl, or her family, down. _ 

With renewed energy, Ander began formulating a plan to rescue the child. He took stock of his equipment - he had brought only his long knife and bow with him in order to travel fast and light. Neither weapon was well suited for this type of attack: the knife lacked reach to battle multiple foes and the snow flurries made it difficult to target the bow beyond a few paces. He doubted his shots could drop all the goblins before they could harm the girl, even using the flurries to his advantage. After what felt like an eternity of debating, Ander knew he had no other options and began silently stringing his bow. 

Gripping the white hued hunting bow, the woodsman began quietly maneuvering toward the over tipped tree. He planned to use the tree trunk’s higher ground to more accurately pick his targets while letting the upturned roots protect him from return fire. It would also blunt the snowstorm from obscuring his vision, but with the wind whipping at his back the flurries would still hamper his foes.

Suddenly a deafening roar from behind him caused the woodsman to spin around with arrow nocked, ready to fire. Ander’s heart jumped into his throat and his limbs froze in fear at the sight of the beast that ambled toward him on two legs, while roar after roar shook the forest, knocking loose clumps of snow from treetops.  

At first glance the creature resembled a bear, but it stood tall as the towering trees that rose around it as it roared again before falling back on all four legs. It had brown fur the color of tree bark except for dark patches where it appeared that the fur had clumped together to form plates and spikes hard as armor. It had enormous black claws the size of small swords and a mouthful of teeth that could easily rip a large elk in two with a quick snap. It stood once more and roared out another challenge, seemingly puzzled as to why the tiny human had not run in fear.

Ander watched, paralyzed, as the bear once again dropped to all fours with a forceful thud and began shuffling toward him. The powerful creature flowed with a grace that belied its size and power, gliding between the trees and snow banks but not disturbing them. The woodsman could feel the creature’s dark eyes focused on him, just as he would focus on a target before letting loose the bowstring. He could see the powerful muscles ripple as the giant bear prepared to rend him in two, and then he was saved......
********************************************

I know, now we are just taunting you with the bear. Isn't it fun?


----------



## dshai527

*Ander and the Bear: Part III*

Alright people, here it is, the finale for Ander and the Bear. 

Oh and the tip O' the Day (Special Pirate Edition in Honor of our National Holiday)...

"Arrr. Scalawag don't mean wot ye think it mean, ye landlubbin' barnacle."


*****
Ander and the Bear 

Episode 3 of 527, a Finale

Both Ander and the Bear turned as shrieks and cries erupted from a trio of goblins as they rushed out from their camp and spied the monstrous creature for the first time. It appeared to the woodsman that he was forgotten for the moment as the mighty Bear crashed into the terrified goblins ripping and clawing at anything that moved. 

Blood coated the white terrain as the Bear’s claws tore one goblin’s head from his shoulders while the massive jaws swallowed another practically whole. The remaining goblin hurled its spear straight ahead at the beast while backpedaling to run away. It never made it, as the long arms of the giant Bear swatted out like a battering ram and sent the goblin flying back into the camp, smashing face first into the boulder that Ander had used as a hiding spot, leaving a thick streak of red as it slid to the snow beneath. 

Ander stood by horrified at the destructive power of the gigantic beast but at the same time he saw his opportunity to save the child. Mustering up his courage, Ander rolled under the uprooted tree and ran around the roots hopping to snatch up the girl and run while the goblins were busy with the bear. Once he had gained his feet though, he was nearly knocked over by six fast moving goblins and only an angry roar gave the woodsman time to roll back under the trunk before four powerful paws ripped through the snow covered turf where he had once stood as the Bear gave chase to the half dozen fleet footed humanoids. 

Ander once again pulled himself up from the snow and moved into the now vacated camp. Without pausing he moved quickly to where he knew the child had been, and sighed loudly when he came around to find the small child still sleeping peacefully under the mountain of blankets. Quickly he gathered the girl up, noticing a small mark on her neck that indicated to him that she had been drugged by a dart of some sort, and headed out the way he had originally come.

Ander cradled the small child as he ran, retracing his path and trying to get back onto his normal trails as the howling winds carried horrified goblin screams to his ears. The woodsman could no longer feel his left foot and saw blood marking his trail when he turned to check for signs of pursuit. In the distance he heard a mighty roar and the woodsman somehow knew that the goblins would no longer be a concern for the villages. Dropping his head, Ander doubled his effort and ran harder. 

When he reached the tree line that he had first noticed the goblins, Ander slowed a bit knowing that he was now back in familiar territory, but more importantly he slowed knowing he had to be careful of his own traps. With the heavy snowfall, many of the landmarks that he used for navigation were now invisible. Carefully, he set back toward Icemist, limping on his numb foot. 

A sudden burst of wind showered the ranger and his charge with stinging snow, obscuring his vision for a brief moment. Crouching down, Ander pulled his cloak around the pair and huddled against the fierce gusts. After a moment the sudden storm died and the woodsman peeked out from the hood of his covering. Oddly, though he could no longer feel the wind, he noticed that the flurries still whirled away to either side like a stream would flow around an island. 

Strange panic washed over Ander as he felt, more than heard, a guttural rumbling shake his bones. Tears welled up in the young trackers eyes as he felt fetid breath warm his shoulders. With a look down at the small bundle that lay in his arms, the ranger prepared for one last desperate dash and gathered his legs beneath him. 

With a grunt, Ander pushed his legs against the ground as hard as he could and sprang forward, hoping to catch the Bear off guard. Time seemed to slow to the woodsman as he leapt forward; his breath hung silently frozen in front of his face and out of the corner of his eye he could see the monstrous paw angling toward his head. Closing his eyes, the young ranger pushed on, preparing for the fatal blow.

Ander felt the remaining air blast from his body as a heavy blow to his waist twisted him sideways and hurled him into the air. A sharp prick to his temple sent waves of pain through his head but the woodsman managed to contort his body so that when he smashed into the snow the young child in his arms was cushioned on top.

The woodsman felt fresh blood running down his cheek as he scampered backwards and opened his eyes, expecting the beast to be upon him. Instead, Ander was surprised to find that the great Bear was not even looking his direction. Glancing down the path where the bear seemed to be focused, the young woodsman now understood why he was still alive. 

He could see a man rising from the snow, coming to his feet from the tackle that had saved the young woodsman’s life. As his savior stood fully, Ander saw long stark white locks of hair whip over the man’s shoulder, dancing in the snow flurries.  He was not what the young Ionian would have called large, but he easily filled out the fur trimmed, winter white armor that he wore, and his limbs were powerfully built. Ice blue eyes caught Ander’s gaze for just a moment, and in that brief span of time the young ranger knew that he had found a kindred spirit of the forest. 

“Orloff!” the man bellowed through the now howling wind as Ander watched him circle to stand between the bear and himself. “Let it go Orloff, he is not one of them. He came to save the girl.”

In response to the winter warrior’s words, the Bear stood up, towering over the humans, and roared.

 “I know he has been trapping in your woods, but the others tricked him. He didn’t know.” The Bear roared again: Ander could swear he could hear anger in its rumble.  “Orloff, please, I don’t want to fight you.” As he spoke, the woodsman watched the white-locked warrior pull two knives that resembled sharpened deer antlers from his belt and settled back into a more defensive stance. With a slight dip of his head, the stranger turned slightly toward the young woodsman and said, “Run.”

At first, Ander was confused about the simple word that he had just heard, but when the white warrior yelled it again as the bear charged forward, the young man knew just what to do. Planting his hand into the ground, the ranger pushed himself to his feet and let his survival instincts take over. 

Ander felt sharp stings from the blood and sweat that flowed into his eye as he dodged and cut between snowdrifts. The woodsman weaved in and out of the trees and his body became numb from the cuts and smacks he endured from stray branches and fallen timbers. It soon became obvious to the panicked ranger that he had lost any sense of direction and was just blindly fleeing through the dense forest. 

With his one good eye, Ander tried to pick out any familiar landmarks or features, but the increasing snowfall blanketed the region and cut visibility dramatically. The woodsman slowed his pace and tried to wipe the blood from his face and gather his wits when his bootless leg finally gave out and sent him crashing to the snow. To make matters worse, the ranger had been on top of a crest and soon he found himself tumbling down, flipping and rolling until he finally came to an abrupt stop face first into a snow-covered log. 

The ailing woodsman tried to rise but the cold had finally taken its toll and his muscles refused to cooperate. With the last of his energy, Ander curled up around the swaddled child in hopes that his heat would protect her until help arrived. Knowing that he had done all he could, Ander closed his eyes and listened to whistling wind. 

“Delphia!” The cry jostled the ranger back to consciousness, and he raised his head to peer into the snow-filled night. The sight of torchlight radiating through the winter storm send jolts of excitement through the freezing young man. Laughing with giddy excitement, the woodsman noticed through the torchlight that he had rolled right out of the forest and onto the plains near Icemist. Ecstatically he began yelling. “Here we are! Here we are!”


Epilogue

Ander limped back to his bed after fetching the hot stew from the fire. His foot was still very tender from its time in the snow, but the mixture of herbs that Lizon had given him in gratitude for his deed had really done the trick. It had even managed to dull the pain from the head wound he had received. 

Still, Ander knew that it would be awhile before he would be able to brave the weather enough to resume his trade. Now that he knew the truth behind Orloff’s woods though, he would have to “have a talk” with the Trapper family about new land rights before he could continue anyway. Besides, little Delphia’s family had made sure that he was stocked for the winter, so it would be some time before he needed anything.  

A rough knock at the cabin’s door interrupted the woodsman’s diner. Grunting in pain as he stood once again, Ander shambled to see who could be visiting him way out here. Gripping the rough pine handle, he opened the door, shivered as the cold wind whipped through the small cottage and snow danced in along with it. Moving quickly, a white furred figure stepped into the warmth of the hut and shook the snow from his head. The winter warrior had every bit as powerful a presence to the woodsman here as he did during those desperate moments in the woods. 

“You did well Ander; you should be proud.” The man said in low, soft tones as he stepped over to smell the stew. Ander could see now that even though he sported the white hair of an old man, the warrior was not at all old: maybe only a few winters older than Ander himself. 

“My pack calls me Icemantle. Like you, I‘ve taken it upon myself to protect these lands. With the Northern Tribes always at war, I stay mostly in the shadow of the mountains, trying to keep their bloodshed from spilling over as far south as Icemist, and keeping safe some of those too stubborn to leave for safer pastures. It keeps me busy, and I don’t get to come down this way as much as I’d like to get news and supplies.” Icemantle fixed Ander with a long, penetrating, stare. “It relieves me greatly to know one like yourself has chosen to take residence near here and watch over these folks. 

The snow ranger paused and rummaged through a sack that hung on his belt, producing a pair of fur lined leather boots from with its folds. “Here,” he said, “to make up for the one you lost.” He spoke while thrusting the boots at the young woodsman. Ander quietly accepted the present and stared back at the warrior, confused as to the purpose of the gift. 

“I have lived in these artic wilds my entire life, but I see by your skin that you come from the southern lands: by your tan I’d say that this is your first real winter. Those boots were given to me when I first left the civilized lands and started out on my own: now I pass them on to you, just as you will pass them on when you have found someone worthy. They were enchanted by a forest shade – with them you can run like the wolf and leap like the deer. They will help keep you alive until first thaw, when I can return and teach you a bit more about the land you now choose to inhabit. Take care, Ander Tobin. May the Spirit of the Forest watch over you.”

With that Ander watched the artic ranger open the door and disappear into the swirling snow, leaving behind only the crackling fire.

End of Flashback

*****


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## Enkhidu

*Part I is up!*

Thanks to Morrus and his new Story Hour archive system, you can now download all of Small Beginnings Part I!

All you need to do is go to this link: 
http://enworld.cyberstreet.com/news/modules.php?op=modload&name=Downloads&file=index&req=viewdownload&cid=4 

Hope you all had a happy Talk Like a Pirate Day!


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

*Part II - “Into the Sunless Citadel,” or “Rats! Why Did It Have to be Rats?”*

Hi all! Enk here!

Well, the beginning of Part II of Small beginnings is finally here, and I hope you're going to enjoy it.

As you can see from the name we are posting under, D'Shai is here with me, and I suppose it's time to let him speak for himself at post time. Right D'Shai?

I finally got into the billing Ma, I'm somebody! This is better than new phonebook day! 

You see what I put up with?

Anyway, we might as well get right to the post this week. So without further ado...

Tip O' The Day 

"Really Enk, if you put cartoon character names into the story hour no one will notice. Its like Survivor, nobody cares." 

Ooooooo Kayyyy.

Anyway, Part II starts off with your favorite ManimalTM, Ashrem.

Enjoy!


*****

Ashrem ran his hands over the worn wood of the large door. He had already determined that it held no hidden mechanisms or traps, his feline eyes and sensitive fingers picking out details that others, even the other scouts in his unit, would have had difficulty finding. He leaned into the door, and found it opening far more easily than he had thought it would. With a squeak, the door swung wide. Surprised, the feloine glanced at the now exposed hinges, and saw the tell tale signs of oil stains around the iron bracings. “It seems someone has been here recently,” he softly murmured.

The familiar creak of Ander’s studded leather jack brought Ashrem’s arm up in front of his new friends, stopping them before one of them strode through the opening. After no more than three heartbeats, the feloine’s eyes adjusted to the relative darkness beyond the door and he slowly moved through the opening. He was greeted by the smell of something long dead.

The stone floor was covered with rubble, and the scout looked up as he entered what he surmised was a collapsed tower. He could see the remnants of stone floors ringing the walls, though all that was left of the floors themselves were piles of old brick and stone. Across the rubble covered floor a lone goblin body was pinned to the wall, feet hanging in the air, a long shaft of wood sprouting from its chest. A wooden door was set to either side of the dangling goblin corpse. 

The feloine stepped lightly into the room, sniffing the air. In addition to the scent of long dead goblin, he found the faint yet ever present odor of rat, but the smell was not new, and was not nearby. Behind him, he heard the others move into the room, following his path as well as they were able; a faint smile played over his feline lips as he tried to place the various footsteps: the whisper-like light steps of Aurora; Pack’s gentle padding; the familiar, surefooted tread of the woodsman, Ander; as well as Theo’s heavy booted stomp mixed with the jangling of his chain armor. Ashrem stifled a chuckle as he realized that the cleric, even when attempting to remain quiet, could not help but to mimic the loud and forceful nature of his god: he wondered if the old warrior did it purposefully. He also heard the sound of flint cracking against steel as a pair of torches was lit.

Ander’s voice carried throughout the dimly lit chamber, “Theo, check out the goblin over there. Ashrem, check for rats in the rubble.” 

The feloine cautiously sifted through the pile nearest him as he heard Aurora speaking with Ander. “I have asked Athena to wait outside and watch the area. If we have not returned in a few suns – I mean, a few days - she is to try to lead the horses back to the village.”

“Good.” Ander’s voice seemed distracted to the feloine scout. “There’s no telling what we may find under here. Hopefully this will be strictly in and out, but…”

Theo’s basso interrupted the woodman before he could finish his statement. “Thunder take me,” he boomed out, “we may have even more trouble than we thought. Come look at this.” His voice was accompanied by the scraping of wood and steel on stone. 

Already satisfied that the rubble currently held no rodents, Ashrem joined his friends as they gathered around the goblin now slumped on the ground. The crumpled corpse no longer had a spear shaft growing from its chest but had fallen away to reveal a blood encrusted patch surrounding a deep hole about the size of a spear shaft. 


“Bones,” whispered Ander, “look at the spear.” Ashrem’s gaze followed the olive skinned woodman’s finger toward the dried blood on the shaft, a full six hands down the wood from the weapon’s head.

Pack’s small voice sounded even smaller in the resounding silence. “Gods. I don’t even think Worm is that strong.” His face was pale even in the light of the torch he had set into a cradle that rose above his backpack.

“Maybe whoever did it is on our side?” Aurora said. “You know, ‘The enemy of my enemy’. Right?”

“I’m hoping we don’t have to find out. This body looks about a ten day old, and I think the survivors went through the right door,” Ander stated. 

Ashrem responded, “I suggest that until we can find out more about what is down here, we stay off the beaten path.”

“The left door it is then!” Ander said in agreement. “Ash, you first and Theo in the rear, lets move cautiously.”

Ashrem looked at the door as he moved towards it, eyeing it as he would an armored foe on the battlefield. His keen eyes probed every grain of the wooden portal searching for signs of defense triggers or traps. When he was confident that there were no visible clues of foul play, the feloine closed his eyes and let his paws drift lightly over the moldings and cracks of the door. After several long moments, the scout was sure that the door was free of traps and proceeded to pull it open.  

Dust clouds billowed up as Ashrem yanked the door aside. The feloine’s eyes quickly adjusted to the few streams of light that made it into the room, but he knew it would be several more moments until this dust cleared from his nose. Not wanting to waste any element of surprise that he might have on any occupants of the room, the scout moved inside quickly and scanned the room. 

The room was empty other than a pile of barney rubble that blocked the far side of the room: it appeared to the feloine that the ceiling on that same side would prove unstable and would soon join the piles of rock below it. On the wall to his right though, the scout noticed a huge stone slab set into bricks itself. The slab looked hinged like a door, but had no evidence of a handle or keyhole. Peering closer Ashrem noticed carvings on the door. They were old and almost invisible but the feloine could make out the design of a great dragon standing on a mountaintop unfurling his wings in a silent roar. Behind the great wyrm, images of hundreds of smaller dragons took flight from caves set within the carved mountain.

 Sounds of footsteps reminded the feloine that his companions were following him into the room. “You will need a torch if you come in here.” He called back at the group as he started over to examine the pile of rubble. 

“_Illume_” Ash heard Aurora mutter as she stepped into the room brandishing her wand. Suddenly the room was filled with tiny glowing dragons no larger than a horsefly, flying in a whirlwind around the sorceress. The feloine blinked in wonderment at the flying orbs, but within a breath they blinked out leaving only a dull torch glow emanating from the young maidens outstretched wand. 

Scowling to himself about being taken off guard so easily, Ashrem returned to examining the rock slide. Bending low to the ground, the feloine scout sniffed at the rocks and peered into the deep shadows between the nooks and crannies of the shifting rubble. Intent on his search, he took no notice as the others spread out to examine things for themselves. 

The powerful odor of rat musk assaulted his nose as his gaze chanced upon a small opening in the pile of fallen stone. In the blackness of the crack he saw two beady red eyes staring back at him, and he thought he heard the quiet scrabbling of claw upon rock. He stood slowly, never taking his eyes away from the rubble, and moved to intercept his friends.

Aurora had made a beeline for the stone slab of a door, and her wand had made visible the elegant etchings on the stone. As she tentatively reached out a hand to caress the dragon carved there, Ashrem’s hand shot out and grabbed her wrist in a firm but gentle grip. “Please, my lady, do not touch that before I have taken the opportunity to do my duty.” Ashrem immediately, moved to stand in front of the door and began to scan it’s surface. As he did so, he spoke in low tones.

“Ander, I suggest you look at the rubble pile. We have watchful visitors, it seems.”

“Rats?” Ander moved over toward the pile: Ashrem watched the woodsman interpose his beaten and bruised body between the stones and the rest of the party.

“At least two, I believe, though there may be more.”

“All right, everyone out. I don’t feel like getting swarmed again.”

Theo’s rumble echoed through the chamber. “Strange, I would have expected them to be on us by now if they were in there.”

“We can’t afford to take chances. If these things are actually smarter than average rats then they’re likely more dangerous – apart from being as big as they are, too.”

Moments later, the friends closed the door firmly behind them. After another moments rest in which Ashrem checked over the remaining door, Ander led the way into a short hallway.  The smooth stone of the floor, ceiling, and walls shone dully in the combination of torchlight and the mystical aura of Aurora’s wand. One either side, directly facing one another, two doors stood. On the right, a simple, brass bound wooden door stood ajar, while on the left, another stone slab stood sentinel. The hallway ended a dozen paces away from the intersection of doors in a large door.

Wordlessly, the friends split up to survey their surroundings: Pack and Theo peeked through the open door, and then disappeared into the chamber, out of the feloine’s view. Aurora stood slack jawed in front of the stone door. It was covered with a bas-relief of a great, turtle shelled dragon, and though she traced the designs in awe, Ashrem saw that she did so at a respectful distance from the actual carving.

Ashrem grinned at the young sorceress and moved with Ander cautiously forward toward the door. He scoured the door with his eyes first, and his fingertips second. Finally, satisfied that it was safe to open, he turned back toward Ander, who stood looking back at Aurora, still deeply entranced by the things she saw in the door. A quiet cough brought the woodman’s head back toward the scout. 

“No dangers, and no noises, Ander,” he murmured.

“Good, let me get the others.”

“No need for that, son.” Ashrem silently swore that he would never get used to the way the aging cleric’s voice could resound indoors, even when the older man tried his best to whisper. “The door led to nothing but empty stone, and we are all here.”

Ashrem looked back at the gathered companions. Pack had a faint smile on his face, while Theo’s jaw had a resolute caste to it. Aurora glanced back over her shoulder, obviously distracted by whatever she had seen on the door, and Ander had a look the scout could only describe as resigned. The woodman nodded, and leaned against the door.

The wooden portal swung wide on rusty hinges, and groaned. To the feloine, it seemed as if an army of old hinges opened in unison and all other sound was drowned out as the door opened fully and landed against the stone behind it with a thud. 

For several long moments, the companions did not move, even to breath. The deafening silence left in the wake of the squeaking hinges weighed heavily on the scouts ears, until he heard soft, regular, breathing as if someone or something lie in wait. Puzzled, he crept into the room, holding up a hand to stop his friends from following. The stealthy scout smelled death all around him and knew that he was not alone. Perking his ears forward the great panther honed in on the sound of his prey. Drawing Razor from its sheath, Ashrem prepared to pounce. 


*****


Next week!

"Enemies or Allies?" or "Mr. Meepo Goes to Washington"

See you in 7!


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

*"Enemies or Allies?" or "Mr. Meepo Goes to Washington."*

And you thought we forgot about posting this week!

Well here it goes...

Hey! what about the Tip o' the Day? 

Can we just once NOT have a Tip of the Day?

No. 

But...

No. 

Listen, I just think...

Do I have to post the pictures from last New Year's party? 

OK! You win! Tip o' the Day is?

Aluminum foil is not a substitute for silvering weapons, even with the shiny side out. I don't care what your werewolf friend says. 

You know, I figure eventually you'll run out of these things. 

You better hope not, or HULK will smash (sorry guys, but the idea of Thorntangle, LiVeWiRe, or Black Bard smashing just doesn't fill me with the same amount of dread). 

Oh yeah (think happy thoughts Dr. Banner!).

Anyway, we've got a special post, just for our favorite whipping boy, HULK. It stars Worm, and will hopefully soon be illustrated by Claudio Pozas (yeah right, like he'd touch this one with a Long Paintbrush (d2-1, x2, Reach). Not even a Brilliant, Holy, Bane vs. Silliness Long Paintbrush of Speed +2. Maybe a +3.

*****

See Goblin.

See Goblin run.

Run, Goblin, run!

See Worm.

See Worm run.

See Worm run after Goblin.

Run, Worm, run!

See Worm catch Goblin.

[THIS SCENE HAS BEEN EDITED DUE TO GRAPHIC VIOLENCE]

See red spot.

See red spot run.

Run, spot, run!

The End.

*****

And now, for those of us not in anger management classes....


*****

"Enemies or Allies?" or "Mr. Meepo Goes to Washington"

Meepo kicked involuntarily under the thin blanket as he tried to flee the nightmares that invaded his sleep. Images of nasty goblins thiefing his baby Calcryx played over and over again like his hatch mother’s whip when he was bad. The kobold knew that the wyrmling was his responsibility. He had earned the honor of being the hatch keeper - he had endured the Test of Nasty Things; but those dung grubbing goblins had taken that all away from him. Now the Iron Handed God sent the nightmares to torture him until he met the dark skinned taker of souls.

The kobold whimpered and kicked at the thought of a soul-taker but Meepo knew that he deserved it for not protecting Calcryx with his life. It was not his fault, he had tried to die, but the dung grubbers smacked their clubs like new hatches. He did not even have off-colored skin spots from their weak non-scaly arms. The hatch keeper had gotten worse hurts from Cal’s love bites and cuddling. He missed her. 

Suddenly, the blanket was ripped from the kobolds head while a dark figure wrestled with him, finally pinning him from behind and forcing a shiny blade before his throat. Meepo stared at the black arm that held that blade and knew that a soul-taker had come for him. A velvety voice, like a dragon’s purr, whispered into his half chewed ears. The language of the voice was unknown to the helpless keeper, but he understood the unspoken language of the blade. With a deep sigh, the proud kobold closed his eyes and forced his neck forward. 

Meepo strained against the arm holding him, but he didn’t feel the sting of the metal blade on his neck scales. Knowing that the great after-cave could not be reached without great pain, the kobold opened his eyes to see what was keeping his punishment. He noticed that the blade had been moved to his right, and the kobold knew that his soul-taker was torturing him, baiting him with the sharp metal edge. 

Pushing with all his might, the strongest kobold in the clan tried once again to make his penance, but his efforts were to no avail. The dully glinting promise of death was still out of reach, and the tightly locked arm holding him proved too firm. The dark figure behind the kobold once again growled in the strange guttural language, but this time it seemed to Meepo that he grunted to someone else. 

The kobold prisoner watched as a new group of figures appeared from around the pen’s exit door. Meepo quivered in fear at the thought of multiple soul-takers, but he knew that losing a wyrmling dragon-god was a terrible crime that called for a terrible punishment. The dragon keeper bit back sobs, determined to take his punishment like a true keeper to appease the great Scorch God and take his spot in the great feasting cave. He prayed that his sin was not awful enough that he would not be at the great feast, but instead in it. Meepo held his breath in anticipation as the figures moved from beyond the door and came into his full view. 

“_Light._” One of the figures spoke a word filled with dragon magic, and a brilliant burst of color blinded the kobold for a double heartbeat; when his eyes cleared the room was lit with a soft glow. Meepo’s eyes adjusted as he felt his shadow vision adjust to fire light vision, and the kobold gasped in denial as light revealed the figures to be surface dwellers, and light-skinned dwellers at that. Three of the figures were tall, like a chief of the dung grubbers and the third was short like him.  The captive kobold realized that they must be great warriors because they had new armor, probably the best of their clan. He also noticed that one of the figures, the one who commanded dragon magic, was different - it had red fur, like Scorch fire, and curved differently than the other surface walkers. 

Meepo felt the arms slowly release from around his neck and the soul-taker wrapped in black cloth stepped around him into view, still brandishing his shiny blade at the kobold. The wyrm keeper nearly fainted as a realization washed over him. _The fire furred one is a Scorch Angel. She has brought a soul-taker and surface warriors to help me get Calcryx back from mean nasty dung grubbers! The Scorch God knows I am a good dragon keeper. Fire-Fur is an Angel in disguise to get aid from a soul-taker and the surface warriors! She has strong dragon magic!_

Meepo, giddy with excitement, barely noticed as the Angel and her warriors talked amongst themselves in some strange surface speak and pointed at him. The small kobold twirled around looking for something to clean with, to make himself presentable to the Angel.  The room lay exactly as the dung grubber raid had left it: blood, both goblin and kobold, coated the entire room and Calcryx’s cage had been mangled and overturned, the puddles of water scattered around it the only reminders of Calcryx’s frosty breath, and the ritual symbols etched and painted by Yusdrayl, the kobold chieftain, had become scratched and barely visible. The only thing not showing signs of battle were the crates of rat bodies that Meepo used as wyrm food. 

“I be a Roar-Ah, who be you?” Meepo broke from his search as the Angel’s voice floated over him, commanding his attention. The kobold stared in awe at his god’s messenger, for she spoke in the true dragon-speak forbidden by the clans, and he fought to make some sense of the higher language of the dragon gods and remark back to her. When nothing but a gasp of air escaped from his mouth, the kobold noticed that the Angel turned and spoke with the soul-taker and surface walkers again. 

“I am Meepo! Keeper of Dragons!” he finally pronounced, puffing out his chest but making sure to use only the speech allowed of the lower clans. He watched, stricken, as Angel, soul-taker, and surface dwellers all turned to look at the prideful kobold. _Oh!_ he thought, _Maybe even the Keeper of Dragons isn’t allowed to speak to an Angel!_ Meepo’s knees quivered and he fell to the ground, begging for mercy. “Please not kill Meepo! Please not kill Meepo!”

With his face pressed close to the ground and his eyes held tightly shut, Meepo did not hear the Angel approach him. When he heard her voice flow over him, he half expected to begin the Burning, but instead she knelt down next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. “No one be hurting you.” The keeper looked up into her flame fur ringed face and, for the first time since Calcryx had been taken, felt safe. It wasn’t until after he stopped gazing into her eyes that he noticed the soul-taker close behind him, ready to collect his due, and one of the tall surface walkers with a huge bow trained on his chest.

Instinctively, he jumped into the Angel’s arms. “Don’t kill Meepo! Don’t kill Meepo!” he screamed. He buried his snout in the Roar-Ah’s warm chest and wailed, oblivious to the hurried conversation between his Angel and her minions. The Angel rocked him gently as she whispered to her servants, and after a long tense moment for the kobold, she set him back on his feet.

“No one hurt Meepo.” She stated it, almost as if it was for the surface dweller’s benefit rather than the keeper’s. He looked around at the Angel’s servants: they had all relaxed visibly, though Meepo was sure that the black wrapped one still wanted to take his soul. Knowing that the Angel had favored him, he took a deep breath, and began.

“Meepo know you here to bring back Calcryx! Meepo take you to Yusdrayl!” When Roar-Ah paused, as if surprised the kobold had continued speaking to her divine prescence, Meepo fell to the ground and prostrated himself before her, awaiting her fiery vengeance. 

But instead of waves of fire melting his scales, Meepo lay stunned as the Angel simply said. “Who is Yusdrayl?”

He popped his head up long enough to say “Yusdrayl clan chief!” and duck again, though this time, he kept one eye open and looking directly at Roar-Ah. She didn’t seem ready to burn him. “Meepo take you there?”

Long moments later, filled with a brisk conversation between the surface dwellers and their mistress, the Angel turned back to Meepo and said, “Yes, take us to Yusdrayl.” With a yip, Meepo jumped up and took Roar-Ah’s hand, padding toward the center of the warrens, and Yusdrayl.

*****

Next week:

“You Scratch My Back and I’ll Scratch Yours,” or, “What’s Behind Door #1”


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

*“You Scratch My Back and I’ll Scratch Yours,” or, “What’s Behind Door #1”*

Vo-lare, o-wo! Chicken con carne, o-wo-wo-wo-wo. 

Uhh, D'Shai, it's time to post again.

Shut up! The tsunami scene is coming up! Tsunami! Tsunami! 

Look, if you don't pause _Escape from LA_ right now, I'm giving the DVD to Yoda the dog.

That's OK, I've got it on LaserDisc and VHS too. 

My hate for you knows no bounds. Well, it looks like I'll be flying solo for this post of Small Beginnings, so please return your tray to the upright position, and...

You suck! Now move over, I'm doing Tip o' the Day! 

OK! Stop with the noogie!



Tip O' da Day
"666 is not the number of the beast, it is an 18 in your preferred stat." 
 

Shoot me now.

*****

“You Scratch My Back and I’ll Scratch Yours,” or, “What’s Behind Door #1”





Aurora held her left hand high, the magically glowing wand nestled between her long fingers, and illuminated the dank passageway. Her right hand was firmly in the grip of the small, scaled creature called Meepo. 

It hadn’t taken long for her to become thoroughly lost, as the kobold had set a blistering pace for one so short and their route had been one of twists, turns, and passed doors. She turned her head over her shoulder to look at the others, and caught Ander’s eyes. Aurora gave a questioning shrug, and the olive skinned young man nodded in response – she supposed that meant she should continue as if all was normal. The red haired sorceress gave a slight nod of the head in return, just in time to have the scaly creature clinging to her hand give another sharp tug as he took yet another turn.

Aurora allowed herself to be drug along the corridor by the strange little thing. To say that the kobold was ugly would have been an understatement – scars covered its scaly hide, and its mouth was full of sharp and crooked teeth. Yet, behind that reptilian mask, the creature’s eyes spoke of a great sadness, or maybe a great loss. Strangely, the young woman found herself feeling more than a bit sorry for the poor thing – _no, not thing: it’s name is Meepo._

Several times, they had been challenged by more kobolds. The scaly creatures had mostly been armed with spears, and had looked ready to either charge or run if Aurora or her friends had made a sudden move. However, each time a group of beasts had shown themselves, Meepo had held up his free hand and barked out a greeting. “This Rora burned angel! Take to Yusdrayl!”  Each time, the challengers had let them pass, only to fall in behind the group and escort them along. As the throng of kobolds following them grew, Meepo’s high pitched hiss grew in volume: “This a burned angel Rora! Take to Yusdrayl!”

The young sorceress despaired of ever understanding exactly what the kobold was saying: he spoke a version of the Draconic she had learned in Tor, but he did so very badly. Or, more probably, he spoke a completely different dialect than she had learned while being tutored. 

The kobold finally came to a dead end door and halted. He turned back toward Aurora and made a gurgling sound, as if he was clearing his throat. “Rora angel? Yusdrayl inside!” He then pushed open the door and led the red haired sorceress into a long, pillared chamber.

The walls of the chamber were covered in kobolds, and each pair of reptilian eyes trained on the group. Aurora walked slowly forward, slowly becoming aware that their stares were not for the group as a whole, but for her specifically. She felt the weight of their collective gaze, and her knees nearly buckled. Only Meepo’s gentle tug kept her upright and moving. Though she knew that her friends stood close by, for the first time on this journey she felt truly alone.

At the far end of the room, torches lit a huge stone carving of a dragon, its tail arcing up over its back. There Aurora saw a mass of blankets and pillows acting as a cushion, and atop the cushions sat a kobold, wrapped in an ankle length mantle. Above the kobold’s head, a large golden key hung from the dragon’s stone tail.

Aurora looked left and right as she slowly approached the makeshift throne. Ashrem and Ander, their hands gripping their respective weapons, had already moved next to the kobolds ringing the walls of the room. Pack and Theo had moved up behind her, their eyes scanning the crowds that formed behind them. The sorceress kept moving slowly forward, and soon became aware that Meepo now walked beside her. He had not, however, let go of her hand, and clutched it fiercely.

“Who be you?” the kobold on the dais demanded. 

Aurora paused, searching for the right way to answer the question. “We are...

“This Rora! She be true burned angel and have dragon magic! She come to rescue Calcryx!” Meepo’s outburst seemed to surprise even him, and the heavy silence that followed his proclamation was followed by a series of gasps and murmurs from the crowd of kobolds now surrounding Aurora and her friends. Several of the creatures fell to their knees and bowed their heads, and a soft chant began in another part of the throng.

“SILENCE!” The kobold on the throne swung a pointed finger slowly over the crowd. “Rora angel’s words not for clan! GO!” For a moment, it looked as if the kobold clan would disobey Yusdrayl, for that was certainly who sat atop the dragon throne, but they eventually shuffled away, some through the doors that lined the walls, and some far to the back of the long chamber, lost in the shadows. 

“Now, why you come here, ‘Rora angel’?” The way she spit the words out made it plain to the young sorceress that Yusdrayl didn’t hold her in near as high the esteem as the other kobolds did.

Aurora paused a second, looking at Meepo sternly to stop him from blurting anything more out. She was scared: anxious that their mission, and maybe her friends’ survival, rested on what she would say. Finally, trying her best not to let her nerves show on her face, she addressed the kobold leader.

“I am Aurora, and I will ask the questions.” It was a dangerous gambit, but the young woman couldn’t think of anything else. “I demand you tell me why you attacked the surface village of Icemist, and what you did with the children you took!”

Yusdrayl looked shocked, or at least Aurora thought she did: the kobold was extremely hard to read. “We not attack Icemist! We…” The chieftain quickly recovered and her eyes narrowed. “If you Rora angel, why you not know we not attack Icemist? Why you really here?”

“I could ask the same of you.”

“Ahh… you from old master. You tell old master clan have new mistress now. True mistress. Dragon mistress. You tell old master that is why we no attack Icemist like he ordered us to, and clan not play his games anymore. We live here now. And if you come to kill clan, you die first…” Yusdrayl let a hand slip to a pouch resting on her small hip and tensed. Aurora recognized it as the beginnings of spellcasting and quickly backtracked.

“No! I am not from your old master. I come to find the children taken from Icemist. No more.”

“Why you want hatches from Icemist?”

“That is my concern, as the Aurora angel.”

Yusdrayl sniffed and cocked her head to the side. “I know where Icemist hatches are.” Aurora could almost feel the kobold’s eyes bore into her as the small chieftain sized her up. “But why I tell you? You great ‘Rora angel.’ You should know. Rora angel should know hatches be sacrificed at first frosts…”

The sorceress turned to look at her friends. Ander stood tightly gripping his staff, while Ashrem prowled on the outskirts of the light, ready to pounce: neither would be of help to her right now, though. Instead she sought out the faces of Pack and Theo, standing side by side. “The chieftain knows where the children are, and has said they will be sacrificed at the first frost. What should I do?” she said breathlessly.

Theo whispered back, “Get more information. Are the children here?”

Aurora turned back toward Yusdrayl and opened her mouth to speak when the kobold cut her off, speaking Torian in a hissing accent. “The hatchlings are not here.” Aurora must have showed her surprise at the language. “Yes, I speak your upworld tongue. And, yes, I now know what I wanted to know. You are not what Meepo said you were. You are simply surface dwellers.”

Yusdrayl crossed her small, scaly arms. “None of my clan know your upworld speech, so I will make this short. In return for the information about your hatchlings, you will find our dragon Calcryx and return her to us.” At the sound of Calcryx’s name, Meepo became agitated, but quieted with a glare from Yusdrayl. “She was recently taken from us by the dung grubbing goblins while under Meepo’s ‘care.’ After you return with our new mistress, you will get your information and then leave. You will not return. Agreed?”

Aurora replied in the same tongue, “We will need more information about this dragon, you will need to send messages not to do anything to the children.”

“Do not try my patience. You will get more information about the dragon, and I will send runners to where your hatchlings are, if you do not do this thing for me, or rather, for us. If you fail, those runners will warn the ones who took them that you are coming. If you succeed, then I will not send runners. Fair enough?” The kobold seemed to mock the sorceress with every word.

“We will need somewhere safe to prepare for what is to come.”

The kobold seemed to consider this for a moment, while looking at Meepo. “Yes, you will have both information and your safehole. You have until first meal, then you will be on your way.” Yusdrayl switched back to her native tongue and shouted, “Clan to me!”

Moments later, the so recently dispersed throng reassembled, crowding forward to hear the news of the deal made between their chief and the Rora angel. Once they had gathered again, Yusdrayl addressed them. “My clan! Rora angel will bring back Calcryx!” Stomping and hissing went up from the crowd and startled the sorceress: the kobolds’ cheers were not what she had expected. “They honored guests till morning meal!”

“Meepo!” Yusdrayl pointed directly at the cringing kobold. “For you failure, you punishment to die!” A murmur went up among the crowd, it didn’t seem to the young sorceress that the clan was pleased by this declaration. “But you bring us Rora angel, who here to get back Calcryx.” Yusdrayl seemed deep in thought: Aurora could tell the chief had a sense of drama, and was working the crowd to advantage. “And Rora angel need guide to dung grubbers.” The head kobold raised scaly fists. “Meepo be that guide! Go, Meepo! Come back with Calcryx and clan not feast on marrow of your bones!”

The crowd stomped, hissed, and hooted, their din deafening to the sorceress. Several kobolds approached and escorted Aurora and her friends into a large room off the main hall, bowing and scraping as they did. The young woman paused for a moment at the doorway as her companions were ushered inside, almost basking in the stomps and hisses of kobold cheers. Then with a sigh, she trudged into the room, Meepo still in tow.


*****


Tune in next time for....

"Calm Before the Storm" or "Can I Still Buy Backpack C"


----------



## Enkhidu

*Your Free Gift!*

Hi all!

If you go back to the original post of this thread, you will see that the posting of Small Beginnings was inspired not by other story hours, but because D'Shai and I couldn't get all the writing out of our system right after the WotC Setting Search!

Sadly, like so many others (10,000 entries! Who knew?), the setting submission that started all this was rejected during the first round. Well, after looking at the possibilities of fleshing out the setting and publishing it ourselves (which we wrestled with for some time), we've finally decided that our creative juices should be focused on other projects (speaking of which, would anyone be interested in a small but complete .pdf detailing Icemist itself? It's a project possibility...).

So....

What follows is the original one page submission for the campaign setting _Immortal Tales_, which, incidentally, is the home of Aurora, Pack, Ashrem, Theo, Worm, and Ander, as well as the villiage of Icemist.

In addition to the format here, we've also uploaded it in the Settings Archive, in it's original formatting.

As always, comments are welcome, and constructive criticism is even more welcome. After all, if you can't improve your work based on the opinions of your preferred audience, what else is there?


*****
_Immortal Tales
Adventures in the world of Ageal_


_Core Ethos_
In a world where gods clash, demons stalk the shadows, and the Immortals vie for dominance, heroes must fight for the very survival of the land – welcome to the Immortal Tales of Ageal.

_Heroes_
In Ageal, every soul has a story, but only a true hero can write her own chapters. Ageal’s heroes come from all walks of life, and can come from the most humble of backgrounds. For every legend told of Gregory Morthannan (reluctant heir to the throne of Konoth, born with every advantage, yet willing to give up everything to fulfill a prophecy), a bard sings of Blight Battledancer (a rustic and rough-hewn swordsman, who through tenacity and skill became one of the fabled Weapons Masters). A hero in Ageal isn’t a hero because she is born to it, but because she strives for it – she is self made.

_Heroic Deeds and Desires_
Many forces drive heroes in Ageal. Where the search for power may draw some, others may begin adventuring out of desire for riches or fame, out of loyalty, or to protect the meek from the strong. However, these heroes always have one thing in common – they have all felt the call. This call may come from a secret cabal of heroes and Immortals intent on guarding the lands, or it may come from something as simple as a child’s cry for help. Yet the call is always answered, sometimes by one seeking to be heroic, sometimes by one who has responsibility thrust upon him – a more unlikely hero. Whether he knows it or not, a hero’s fate is intertwined with the land, its people, and the gods who have vowed to protect it.

Of course, a hero may always run afoul of one of the Immortals, or become embroiled in their intricate plots. In fact, a hero’s goal might be to seize their own Book of Life and become one of their number… 

_Adversaries_
Ageal’s recent history has been fraught with battles between the mighty, with the Immortals finally coming together in a bid for power against the gods themselves. In the aftermath of that long and clandestine conflict, many evils were loosed on the world. Demons and their master, the Corrupter of Dreams, are once again free to cross the Veil. The Dread Lord, once thought dead, has awakened from its long slumber to rebuild its armies of undead. The Great Ionian Empire has begun to collapse from its many strains, with Barons giving themselves wholly over to cruelties to keep their tenuous holds on power. Great tribes of Goblins have begun to muster in the far north and from the far south come the Orcs, both ready to conquer new land where they can. If ever Ageal needed heroes, now is the time.

_Magic_
Magic in Ageal is a battlefield. Two gods clash for control: one, a forgotten and unworshipped god who grants his powers to those few who can decipher his riddles or control it by their very essence; and the other, a recently freed deity that has once again taken her role in the heavens as guardian of the Flow - a magic used by the gods themselves, as well as those followers to which they grant it.

As far as practitioners of the arcane arts are concerned, all magic springs from “The Well of Knowledge:” the theoretical repository for all things that can be known. What they do not know is that the Well actually exists, and that it not only contains all knowledge, but knows it, and grants great power to those with the patience to unravel its mysteries.

The Goddess Llyladria, awakened from her long imprisonment, controls a different kind of magic – one based on faith instead of knowledge, and gifts her followers with it. Other gods have followed suit, and their faithful also use that magic, sometimes for good, and sometimes for ill. However, the Pale Lady, caretaker of the Flow, has given a special magic to her closest followers – the power to give the Flow substance in a form known as Magitherium.

_What makes Immortal Tales unique?_
Magic in conflict, the world in upheaval, powerful adversaries – all these things and more make Ageal a memorable place for heroes to make a name for themselves. However, certain things make Ageal unique in the multiverse: Magitherium, a physical manifestation of the Flow of magic; The Veil, the weakened barrier that keeps the demon hordes at bay; and the Immortals, whose ranks can be joined by true heroes.  This ascent to immortality is possible because every sentient being on Ageal has a Book of Life – the living record of their thoughts and deeds. This “library” is cared for by the gods themselves, and when a soul’s time on Ageal has come, they close that soul’s book. Which begs the question: what happens when the last chapter is written, but the book is never closed?

*****


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

*"Calm Before the Storm" or "Can I Still Buy Backpack C?"*

Hidey ho, neighbor!

Since D'Shai is all hopped up on Sinutab, he won't be joining us today, and for once I get to post the installment in peace. 

Hooray for Sinutab.

Anyway, I'll keep this short... Wait a second. BRB.


***

OK, D'Shai says that if I don't post a tip of the day he's going to break into my house and put a Vanilla Ice CD in my disk changer when I least expect it. He called it the audio version of Russian Roulette. And since I've already seen the CD (he said he bought it for just such an occasion), and I'm fairly sure that Mrs. Enk would just let him in the house to do it, I'll oblige with the tip.

Just one problem: he didn't give me a Tip. He said I had to come up with it myself, and it had to be related to pirates. 

So here's your rack'n frack'n goldurned Tip of the Day.

"Loose lips sink ships."

I tell you, if he does this to me again I'm just going to open up the floor for suggestions. 

In fact, for the next week, I will be taking requests for the next Tip of the Day I have to do solo. All you have to do is email me here. The winner of this impromptu contest will get their Tip o' the Day used sometime over the next few weeks (D'Shai is bound to do this again sometime soon). The loser(s) get a noogie from HULK.

Oh, and Mrs. Enk says thanks to all the well wishers. I'll do my best to keep you informed!

Enjoy

*****

"Calm Before the Storm" or "Can I Still Buy Backpack C?"


Aurora closed her eyes and tried to concentrate, focusing on the rush of energy that welled up deep inside her. She imagined herself standing near a stream of flowing magic deep in the fey lands. Slowly she dipped her hands into the shimmering surface, drawing its essence into her own. The young sorceress concentrated and the mystical substance flowed and formed shapes at her bidding, covering her in its essence and slowly melded with her body. Just as the process was nearly complete, her concentration was broken by a sharp poke in the ribs. 

“You feel good, Rora Angel?” Meepo’s scaly faced asked her as she opened her eyes. “Why you close eyes? You sick?”

The young sorceress giggled at the kobolds words and smiled at the look of concern that played in his eyes. “No, Meepo. I was resting. I need to rest to gather my ‘dragon’ magic. You do rest down here don’t you?” 

“Yes, Meepo rest, but never with both eyes at same time.” The kobold stopped and looked around before continuing the conversation. “Many dung grubbers down here, and they try to take Rora angel from Meepo like they take Cal. Meepo protect Rora Angel when she does both eyes rest.” Aurora almost giggled again when the kobold quickly turned after the statement and proceeded to march around her like he was on patrol at a castle tower and she was the maiden locked in that same tower. “You rest now, Meepo watch with both eyes.”

Aurora muffled another series of giggles by feigning a yawn and emphasized it by stretching her arms and legs. Knowing that she was unlikely to concentrate with her guardian stomping around her, the young sorceress look about to see what her companions were doing. Ash and Ander had camped on the far side of the room near the door, like watchmen, and they were deep in a conversation that Aurora didn’t think would be wise to interrupt. Theo and Pack were likewise engaged in a theological discussion and the sorceress had always felt lost when it came to the gods and their magic. That left just Meepo. 

With a sign, Aurora turned her attention back to the small kobold and hoped that she would be able to get some useful information from the confusing sentry. “Meepo. I’m not resting right now, why don’t you sit down and talk with me.”

The kobold stopped in his tracks and turned to face the maiden, his face was skewed: almost as if he couldn’t believe what he had just heard. With a rush, Meepo sat right up against the sorceress with his head on her chest, staring straight into her eyes. “Um, Meepo, not so close alright. There that’s better,” she said as she nudged the small beast away to about arms length. 

Meepo merely stared back at her, undaunted by the brush off. His eyes held her gaze as if he was captivated by her in some way. Unsettled by the intense attention, Aurora shifted uncomfortably and tried to think of something to talk about. “Meepo, What do you know of the doors?” 

The small kobold tilted his head, like a lost puppy: confused. “Many doors down here. Rora Angel like doors?”

“No, No, just the special doors, the Dragon Doors.” 

Aurora guessed that he finally understood because his eyes lit up and he began babbling at her too fast for her to understand. “Scorch………armies…….dragon priests…….Angels…….” 

“Stop!” The sorceress shouted, causing everyone in the room to stop for a moment and look at her. With a flushed face she turned to address Meepo again as she heard the other conversation pick up again. “Slow down, I don’t understand you when you talk that fast.”

The sorceress’ words seemed to fall on deaf ears as the kobolds eyes grew large and he quickly scampered to his feet to examine Aurora’s face. “Rora angel in heat? Why soft scales turn red, you life-mate nearby?” Aurora felt herself blushing yet again, as the scaly protector turned and looked around the room and the young sorceress instinctively sneaked a peek towards the woodsman, Ander. 

“No, Meepo,” Aurora protested as she shook her head, “it’s not that. I was embarrassed that’s all. You know when you say something and…you know what, forget about it. Tell me about these dung grubbers.”

Meepo turned and suspiciously eyed the sorceress, but soon grinned and plopped back down like a child for story time. “The ugly, nasty, soft scaled dung grubbers that weak like new hatches.” The kobold proclaimed puffing out his chest. 

“If they are weak, how did they steal Calcryx?”

“Meepo out catching rats and come back and Frimp and Grendo dead, many dung grubbers in cage room, too many for Meepo. Meepo miss Cal.” The poor kobold began to whimper softly and Aurora found that she felt sorry for the small thing and instinctively scooted closer and held the kobold why he cried. “Rora angel help Meepo?”

“Yes Meepo, Rora Angel help.” She said softly stroking the kobolds scales as he began to snore and a smile broke out across her lips as she noticed he left one eye open. 


*	*	*



Ashrem sat quietly against the wall next to the door, his attention fixed on the whisper like motions on the other side of the thick wood. The company had not been disturbed since entering the chamber, unless one were to include the incomprehensible yammering of the kobold that Aurora, against the scout’s better judgment, had taken under her wing. 

Ander plodded up to the feloine. “All in all, I’d rather be in bed.” The woodsman slumped next to the stone wall and slide to the dusty floor. 

“I could second that.” Ashrem looked at his young friend – he had laid his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. The scout could still smell the ranger’s fear filled sweat, mixed with the metallic tang of blood. “Though I imagine that either of us would settle for a comfortable patch of moss, at least at this point.”

“Point taken.” Ander seemed to deflate as he spoke. He seemed defeated, and the sight of it turned Ashrem’s stomach. “Do you think we’re ready for this? Supplies wise, I mean.”

“I would say that our chances of achieving our goals are quite favorable, actually. Supplies should not be a problem, and I have secured more than ample emergency rations should the need arise.”

“Oh yeah, I keep forgetting you can carry a full keg’s worth of supplies in your rucksack. Well, at least we won’t have to worry about food. What about other stuff: rope, torches, etc.”

“All present and accounted for, Ander.” The feloine patted the traveling pack next to him. “Approximately forty feet of rope remains untouched, and we currently have over two dozen torches.”

“Good, now all we have to worry about is getting a dragon back for a horde of not so friendly kobolds from an even more unfriendly horde of goblins. Peachy.” The feloine huffed a quiet laugh at the woodsman’s joke, more out of politeness than humor, and fell quiet again.

The pair of warriors sat silent for a few moments, while the sounds of two other murmured conversations continued to fill the room. Finally, Ashrem broached the subject hanging in the air.

“You should have Brother Theo tend to your wounds.”

“I already did.” Ander didn’t even open his eyes.

“All of them? Including the gash seeping under your leather jack?”

Ander sat in silence as the feloine watched him carefully. “I’m more worried about making sure that Theo has enough healing for everyone else. If Aurora or Pack got hurt…” he woodsman trailed off, unable to continue his train of thought.

“Pack and Aurora may very well get hurt on this mission. They may very well die on this mission. However, they each knew the risks involved in coming, and they both decided to come, regardless of the danger. As our commander, you must remember this.”

“Who says I’m the commander?”

Ashrem looked at the others. Pack and Theo had huddles together in some deep conversation, and Aurora sat looking either bemused or confused at her new kobold lap dog’s antics. “They do, my friend, and I do as well.” The feloine breathed deeply, letting his words sink in to his closest friend’s mind, and continued, “A commander should always be healthy if he wishes to lead his troops from the front. It is better for morale.”

“Bones, Ash. I didn’t want this. I never wanted this.”

“The Winds of Fate do not always fill our sails: sometimes we must row. Please, see Brother Theo and have him attend your wounds.” 

Ander stood on shaky legs, and began moving toward the aging cleric cloistered with Pack. After taking two steps, he turned to face the placid feloine. “What if I’m not good enough, Ash?”

“You will be, my friend. You will be.”

*	*	*


Pack looked up from his never ending task of rearranging the contents of his backpack as Theo plopped down a few feet from him. Now that the room was fortified and the camp was made, the aging cleric shrugged off his chain shirt and began tending to his own ails, looking drained and sore. The halfling watched the priest as he chanted and moved his hands over his wounds. A soft blue glow and sounds of rainfall seemed to accompany the strong hymn-like spells of the storm worshipper. 

The small bard paid close attention to even the slightest detail of the cleric’s movements, just as he had for the past few nights since first seeing his healing touch. Pack did believe that Theo’s powers came straight from Zuras, but on a whim a few nights before he had mimicked the priest’s motions while humming the same hymn the priest had chanted and felt a tingling in his finger tips. _With proper homage paid to the Storm Lord, and Theo, maybe he would grant me a few coppers of healing in my hat._

Pack paused, realizing that he had been focusing too much, and found Theo had finished with his prayers and was staring directly at him. “Ooooh Theo, tsk tsk! That armor is covered in blood and fur. I know I have some oil in here and a wire brush. Steel is hard to come by these days you know, the demon wars and all, and I wouldn’t want to see yours rust.” The halfling rummaged through his pack as he spoke, producing a small armor care kit he had picked up along the way.

“I am well aware of that Pack.” The cleric replied taking the small case of polish and brush from the halfling’s outstretched hands. “Where do you think I got this?”

“Oh yeah. Sorry, I forgot.”

“Its fine, son. I sometimes forget that I’m older than the rest of you, too. This little trek makes me feel young again.” The Priest paused and began cleaning his armor before speaking again. “Useful too.” 

Pack waited, expecting the priest to continue, but the old warrior merely stared at his armor, lost in thought.

“Theo, did you want to finish your story?”

“What was that, Pack?”

“Did you want to finish your story? The one about your time in Tor. The last thing you said before we had to start being quiet was something about how something made you decide what was important to you.”

“Ah yes, Eleanor.” Theo eyes looked toward the wall, but Pack got the impression that he was looking past the stone, into the past, or at least a place where he was very happy. “My wife.”

“What was she like?” Pack almost whispered the question.”

“Beautiful as a rainbow, and gentle as a summer shower.” He sighed heavily. “Gods know how I loved her…” Theo sat silent for a while, his busy work seemingly forgotten.

“She was everything to you wasn’t she?” 

Theo smiled and began slowly polishing his armor again. “The power should have been hers. She was the one who truly believed. I just showed up at the temple to see her. Her father was the head priest you know. I hear he’s the High Abbot at the Church in Tor now. He always worked hard and had a real gift for healing and sermon.”

“He was there when I found her, or what was left of her after the demons raided. He was there when I made my oath and when the thunderbolts first leapt from my hands. He said I was Zuras touched and that it was my duty to be a beacon for the church, to bring followers into the fold. I tried, and even though within a few months time my healing powers were greater than anyone else’s at the abbey and even though I also had other powers that none of the other followers had, the gift of sermon was not one of them. Every time I stepped in the pulpit and began to speak, I felt like I was lying.” Theo stopped and laughed as if remembering a joke long forgotten. “Did you know that I grew up praising Zuras so that he would bring rains and sunshine to our lands to make crops plentiful, and in Oscourt they fear Zuras and pay his priests to keep the storms at bay while they haul in their nets?”

“No, I didn’t.” Theo stopped for a moment and looked back towards the Pack. The bard’s eyes were bright and intense, taking in everything the older man did as he spoke, committing the entire act – words, movements, and pace - to memory. Hungry for more of the tale, Pack prodded the cleric on. “I didn’t know that. Go on…”

Theo took a deep breath, and the halfling could see built up tension leak out of the priest. “Not today, my friend. We should both be getting rest now.” Theo went back to cleaning his mail. “We’ll talk about it later.”

Pack leaned up against his backpack, its weight countering his own. “Theo, tell me about the demon wars. Did you meet any of the heroes?”

The old cleric paused for a moment. “I learned something during the wars, Pack, that I think is very important to remember. A hero doesn’t have to have songs written about him to be a hero. No, I never met anyone back then that you’d likely know, but I did meet a lot of very good, very brave men; and women for that matter. In fact, I still meet heroes today.”

“Like who?”

“Look around, Pack, they’re in this very room.”

“You mean Aurora, and you, and Ander, and Ashrem?”

“Oh, I suppose I mean them, but you left someone out, son.”

“No I didn’t, Worm didn’t get to come with us, even though he volunteered.”

“But you did. Even without him, you came all the same. And I think that’s probably the bravest thing I’ve ever seen a body do.”

Pack was silent for a moment. Talking about Worm had brought back the reality that his older, bigger, and stronger brother was not at his side. As if in answer to Pack’s thought, Theo continued.

“I dare say that your brother is more worried about you than you are of him, Pack. But you’ll both be fine. All of us will. Now get some sleep while you have a chance.”

The halfling absentmindedly laid covers on the ground to serve as a blanket, his thoughts back in Icemist. As he curled up in the heavy cloth and nodded off, he thought of Lizon, of Worm, and of home.

*****

Next Week!

"Rodents of Unusual Size," or "What is the, the Fire Swamp?"


----------



## Enkhidu

You know, we actually wrangled over that word, and left it because we couldn't come up with anything better as a similar exclamation from the character (I thought about making some reference to how the original text before translation actually said something about peaches or something, but that seems too Tolkein-y).

Anyway, here's some of the one's we discarded:

“Good, now all we have to worry about is getting a dragon back for a horde of not so friendly kobolds from an even more unfriendly horde of goblins. Swell.” _Too 50's_

“Good, now all we have to worry about is getting a dragon back for a horde of not so friendly kobolds from an even more unfriendly horde of goblins. Groovy.”  _Too Bruce Campbell_

“Good, now all we have to worry about is getting a dragon back for a horde of not so friendly kobolds from an even more unfriendly horde of goblins. Like, wow.” _Too Scooby Doo_

“Good, now all we have to worry about is getting a dragon back for a horde of not so friendly kobolds from an even more unfriendly horde of goblins. Good Grief.” _Too Charlie Brown_

“Good, now all we have to worry about is getting a dragon back for a horde of not so friendly kobolds from an even more unfriendly horde of goblins. Holy Catarangs, Ashrem.” _Too Burt Ward_

“Good, now all we have to worry about is getting a dragon back for a horde of not so friendly kobolds from an even more unfriendly horde of goblins. Heavens to Murgatroid.” _Too Hanna Barbera_

So, we went with the lesser of several evils.


Oh, and before I forget (like I'm prone to), we regret to inform you that Small Beginnings is being retired. Real life and other projects have piled up so much this week that there's no way we're going to be able to put up another post, so we are retiring, at least until our agent can get us a big fat signing bonus and renegotiate our contract.

Yeah, and this time none of that "Yards per Carry" incentive clause crap. 

Yeah, what he said.

Seriously, this week is hectic, what with work projects and other projects piling up, so look for us to update the story hour next week, after our big coming out of retirement party. 

See you then!


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

*"Rodents of Unusual Size," or "What is this, the Fire Swamp?"*

Butterfinger... 

Hello everyone, sorry we're late but D'shai just _had_ to go trick or treating.

Snickers bar...Ooooh! Reese Cup.... 

The sad thing is he doesn't have any kids, he doesn't have a niece or nephew around, and he dresses like a pirate everyday anyway. 

WOW! Pop Rocks and Nerds! I thought Pop Rocks were banned ten years ago...Ahhhhh...Chewy. 

Anyway, we've finally gotten around to giving another update. Sorry for the inconveniece (this means you especially, Badger). 
Now,before we go any further, wait a minute... D'shai, get over here and do the Tip of the Day!

Beweej  murph MHhhh tweeste  wunderfunk, quijibo ....MMMMMMMMM........wdeter stofth. 

You are a sick and twisted individual - next time make sure you come up with one that won't offend Eric's Grandmother. That's just gross. Now get the caramel off my monitor, come up with one more family friendly.

Tip O' the Day 
Never get into a land war with Russia. 

Too Princess Bride. Want to give it another try?

Never gamble with a Sicilian when death is on the line? 

Try again. This time something original.

At least it's better than "Loose lips sink ships." 

Hey, it's not my fault that I've only gotten one suggestion from our kind, loyal, and inventive readers *cough* slackers *cough*.

Alright. Never write a check in the cash only line, especially if Fett is behind you. 

Now that's a good tip.

Before we actually post up this time, we did want to say something  bit more serious. We really respect what military men and women give up to protect their country. Being US citizens, we really appreciate your willingness to give up your time with your son to protect our interests, Badger. 

Just for this occasion, I've got Red, White, and Blue Airheads in my mouth! Whvs fr u, Bawwer!

Oh, and we'll take care of emailing Badger that the update is ready to go.

Enjoy...


*****

"Rodents of Unusual Size," or "What is this, the Fire Swamp?"

Pack wiped the sweat from his eyes and stepped out from behind Theo to thrust his lucky dagger into the flank of the closest rat. The halfling was tired and sore from the constant ambushes set by the filthy beasts ever since the friends had entered this section of the underground citadel. It seemed like days to the bard since they had broken camp and followed Meepo the kobold down dark passages. 

Pack breathed a sigh of relief as Aurora’s azure missiles followed the last rat back into their latest ambush hole near a dried up fountain. The bard quickly slumped to the ground resting his back against fountain wall as Theo and Ander quickly covered the hole with rocks and debris, just as they had several other times. Pack watched as they finished and then the group huddled up near him to rest and discuss options. Theo tended to the bites and scrapes of the companions once everyone had caught their breath. 

“How many rats can there be?” Aurora questioned as she glanced around nervously fingering the dragon bone wand.   

“Rats tend to live in huge clusters,” Ander remarked. “But I tend to think we are seeing the same seven or so rats rotating with each ambush, three or four at a time.” 

“That doesn’t make any sense. They aren’t smart enough for that. They’re rats!” Pack gasped. “I mean they are bigger and stronger, but they are just rats, aren’t they?”

 “I think their actions speak for them, young Pack, and I think it is time we stopped underestimating our foe because of their little cousin’s frailty.” Theo never looked up from bandaging the wound on the kobold guide as he answered Pack’s question, but the halfling got the feeling that the words were aimed more toward Ander than himself. “I also think we need to arm our guide if we wish him to stay alive long enough to get us to the dragon. He has fought tooth and nail along side us and we could use the extra weapon in light of our foe’s tactical approach.”

Pack heard Ashrem growl at the notion of arming the kobold, but the feloine said nothing and instead turned and stared at Ander. Pack also turned and eyed the woodsman, expecting his immediate response. Instead he saw a large frown fall over the warrior’s face and his brow wrinkled in contemplation. Pack’s stomach sank at the mere thought that Ander was stumped on how to combat the rodents, but to the halfling’s astonishment the frown soon turned to words.

“You’re right Theo, its time we started acting like a team and using tactics of our own. Ashrem, you will take lead, about twenty steps should be enough, and don’t take any chances. Drop back if you see anything. Theo, you and Pack will guard Aurora and Meepo. I will...”

Ander kept talking but the woodsman’s words had dazed the halfling. _I have never been asked to guard anything, not even the wine cellar. Ander thinks I am big and strong enough to guard someone. Theo was right maybe I am a hero like the rest of them. I wish that Worm could see this, but if Worm were here he would guard Aurora and not me. No, if Worm were here these rats would be too scared to attack us and the goblins would give the dragon back and the children would be saved already. He’s not here though so I guess it’s up to me._

“Pack? Pack, do you think you can handle that?” 

“What? Oh sure Ander, anything you say.” The halfling quickly replied, nodding briskly to cover up his embarrassment.

“Alright, Ashrem lead on, and stay tight. I’ll be right behind you.” With that said the woodsman turned to take his position in the rear, but Brother Theo interjected.

“What about the kobold, Ander?”

The woodsman’s frown returned, but he nodded and quickly replied to the question. “If you are willing to take the risks, Brother, then give him that old spear you found. Ashrem – you have permission to shoot the kobold dead if you see him level it against any of us.”

The priest nodded and yanked the small spear from his pack and handed it towards the scaly guide. Meepo’s eyes lit up and the kobold knelt face down and extended its claws to receive his gift. Once the spear was resting perfectly in Meepo’s grasp, Pack watched the small guide leap up and march around Aurora growling at the shadows and rock piles that once housed the ambushing rats. 

Pack smiled at the image and something in his stomach told the halfling that Ander and Ashrem were wrong about the kobold. The bard somehow knew that Meepo would give his life to protect Aurora, and as Ander walked away scowling, it suddenly made sense to Pack. _Ander’s jealous! He wants to be the one to protect Aurora. He really likes her. Ander likes Aurora! Ander likes Aurora!_

The bard suddenly aware that the party was moving off without him, skipped to catch up, humming his childish ditty as he did so. _Ander and Aurora, strolling by the stream, k-i-s-s-i-n-g!_ Only the look on Brother Theo’s stern face as he peered into the darkness beyond the torches brought the young bard back to the seriousness of the situation. 

The hallway that they descended into was filled with dust and debris from the collapsing ceiling and various piles of rotting garbage. At the far end, Pack could make out a door, and beyond it the feloine’s silhouette kneeling down and inspecting something just beyond the torch’s light. As the group moved closer, he noticed that Ashrem raised a hand to stop them from moving into the room. 

Heeding the actions of the feloine scout, Pack and the others halted just shy of the doorway. Peeking around the frame, the halfling was able to see that Ashrem was examining a series of pits, similar to the one in the courtyard: but these had been spiked open. Pack knew that Ashrem hadn’t had time to do it, and this raised many questions in the curious bard’s mind. 

As Pack watched, the feloine carefully traced the edges of the pits with his gloved hands and then moved slowly around the floor tracing each crack in the stone. The bard assumed that Ashrem thought there were more traps in the room. Suddenly the calm quiet stillness of the moment was shattered by a cracking thud that shook a door that Pack now noticed in the adjacent wall to his left.

A second thud reverberated through the room and huge cracks appeared in the wooden door. “_Guthash_,” Pack heard Meepo whisper as the kobold lowered his spear and placed himself between Aurora and the buckling door. Ashrem had begun picking his way back towards them when the door shuddered violently one last time and blew off its hinges. Pieces of the door pelted the furred scout as Pack heard him scream. “Run!”

Without even seeing what had caused the thunderous impact that blew the door outward, Pack panicked and turned to flee. Only Ander’s warning from that direction stopped the halfling from bolting. “There’s more rats back here!” 

Pack felt his heart stop as three large rats burst from hidden pits beneath the garbage to block the party’s retreat. Pack recognized these rats from the various wounds that each one sported: just like he would any barbarians who had caused problems at the bar the night before when Worm had been bouncing. These were the filthy rats that had been plaguing them all the way down the hallway. 

The halfling’s heart sank and he could feel the fear shooting down all the way to his toes: they were trapped. Trapped like rats!

Pack felt a torch being thrust into his hands as Aurora, a determined looked on her face, stepped up next to him and unleashed one of her signature dragon missiles. The missile spiraled in and blew one of the large rats into small fleshy chunks as it leapt towards the flanked woodsman. The other rat was skewered by a charging spear-wielding kobold that seemed to be mimicking the flight and destructive power of the magical missile - except that the kobold’s rat didn’t explode but rather disintegrated as Meepo kept jumping up and down on it, stabbing it all the while. 

The experienced woodsman efficiently dealt with the final ambushing rat and Pack realized that he was not ready to be categorized with these great heroes. They had fought while he had been frozen with fear. Even delicate Aurora, although now visible shaken, had acted while he had not.   

“Pack! Get Aurora and Meepo back down the hallway!” Ander yelled and Pack moved to comply while the woodsman dashed toward the room where Theo and Ashrem battled whatever had burst through the door. Pack’s bardic curiosity got the better of him and he peeked into the room as he grabbed for Aurora’s hand.  The halfling felt himself begin to shake again at what he saw. 
A large white rat, twice the size of Pack himself and covered in boils and sores that oozed with yellow pus, snapped at Theo’s shield. Each bite tore small chunks from the wooden shield as the cleric tried to cover the woodsman as he helped a limping Ashrem toward the door. The feloine’s cloth wrappings were soaked with blood from what seemed to be a large bite right above his hip.

Pack didn’t need to see anymore to know that they were in real trouble and the young bard yanked Aurora’s hand and ran, the kobold guide bounding along behind them. The trio didn’t make it very far before scuffling could be heard behind the walls and the halfling knew that they were about to be ambushed by the remaining rats. 

Releasing the sorceress’s hand pack pulled his dagger back out and prepared to hurl it at the first rat that came into view. He also saw Aurora clutch the dragon bone wand and prepare for the raiding rats. Only Meepo stood there staring at Aurora’s hands, seemingly oblivious to the threat that was about to descend upon them.

Then the rats were among them, threatening to overwhelm the trio. Meepo let out a high pitched war cry that sounded like someone had run over a dog with a wagon, and jumped atop one of the four huge vermin, skewering it immediately, while Pack struggled to keep his feet as another tried to bowl him over. Pack heard the flash and sizzle of Aurora’s wand dispatch first one, and then another, leaving only the rat grappling with the halfling. The bard shoved the stinking beast away from him, and saw Ander’s staff crack into the rodent from behind. It fell, it’s back bent in an unnatural shape, and lay still.

“Move!” the woodsman shouted, “Back to the fountain!” Ander was helping to support Ashrem’s weak form, and Pack could see the feloine’s bleeding had not stopped. Finally, as the scout’s form went completely limp, Ander shrugged his blood soaked companion over his shoulder with a grunt and made for the fountain. Running backward, Pack could see Theo retreating from the great white beast step by step, covering their escape with desperate shield work.

Pack ran back to the stone fountain as quickly as his legs could take him. There, he shrugged off his namesake and set it against the wall. Seconds later, Ashrem lay against the backpack, red blood staining his already dirty wrappings. Then Ander streaked off toward Theo. Pack watched in the flickering light as the warrior charged right by the aging cleric and struck the mother of all rats a glancing double handed blow. “Ashrem needs your help now, Brother! He won’t make it without it!”

Theo jangled back toward the other companions and dropped his weapon and shield at Ashrem’s feet, immediately praying fervently to Zuras, his strong hands seeking out the scout’s wound. Pack joined Theo in his work as best he could, mimicking the movements and words that gave Theo his healing hands, but while Theo’s hands glowed with a pale blue light, causing the bite on Ashrem’s side to pucker and close, Pack’s did nothing. “Go help Ander, Pack. We’ll take care of Ashrem.” Theo’s voice was strained and short, and quickly the priest was lost in yet another prayer to the Storm Lord.

Pack stood up and made to rush off towards the fight, but found that the fight had come to him. Not ten feet away, Ander stood locked in combat with the huge white rat. Wrapped up in Ashrem’s healing, the bard had not heard the approaching battle.

Ander looked tired: the woodsman gasped in short breaths and grunted heavily as he struck again and again at the huge beast, and he was covered with small scrapes and scratches. The rat looked worse: one eye was swollen shut, and the beast lurched from side to side, as if it had an injured leg. It also sported a large gash along its side that looked to have been bleeding for some time, as the fur below it was tinged red. In the flickering torchlight, it looked monstrous.

Suddenly the rat lunged forward and sank its teeth deep into Ander’s shoulder. The woodsman screamed in pain and fell to the side, seemingly stunned. “Noooooooo!” Pack screamed and rushed forward, pointing at the man sized beast as he did. Ander leaned heavily on the stone wall as the halfling charged. 

The world seemed to slow for the halfling. He saw Ander fall sideways against the well cut stone of the wall. He saw the rat snarl as it brought its attention to its new annoyance. And then he saw his dagger, glinting in the torchlight, slip under the rat’s great fanged maw and sink into the filthy white fur all the way to the hilt. With a gurgling gasp and a shudder, the thing died and slumped to the ground.

Pack followed a moment later, suddenly aware that he had acted like a hero, too.


*****

Next Time:

"Once More Into the Breach, Dear Friends," or "How Come They Get a Wall?"


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

*Interlude: Honor among Goblins?*

Hello, Everyone. It's me D'shai, just bringing you a tidbit to tide you over as we put the finishing touches on the next installment. Hope you enjoy it. 

**********************************************
Interlude:


Retch leaned back against the barricade and yawned. He hated guard duty, especially when it was his day to be with his den’s female. The goblin just knew that the second watch was late on purpose: they were still mad that his den had stolen the kobold’s sacred pet and their den had not even made it past the rats on each of their failed attempts. Kobolds were stupid, and so was the second watch; but not as stupid as the kobolds.

The impatient guard turned and slugged his second in command, Gurga, to let the other four watchmen know that he was in a fowl mood now and they had best leave him alone. When Gurga and the others lowered their eyes and moved away, Retch threw rubble stones at them and their card game for ignoring him. 

Retch turned and grabbed his spear and he immediately heard the cursing and swearing behind his back cease. This made the goblin captain proud; it was good to be hated, but better to be feared. During the brief moment of silence, the goblin guard thought he heard something from beyond the door. 

With a quick growl to alert the others, the Retch leveled his spear and checked his fortifications. The mortar barricade blocked the guardroom from a long hallway that lead to the rat lands and on to the kobold hive. The hallway was filled with foot spikes and ended in a doorway trapped with a bell alarm. The barricade, too, was obviously trapped with spear tips bent to keep intruders from easily climbing the wall. 

Another growl from the captain quieted his watchmen as they scampered to grab spears and load crossbows. “Keep quiet, dogs, or I’ll put ye on feed duty.” He warned, knowing that no goblin wanted to enter the dragon’s room much less stay to face its icy breath as they tried to feed it. 

The sound was subtle but the Retch had been guarding this hallway since before kobolds had moved in, and he knew a raid when he heard one. With a quick motion he prodded his spear butt into the ribs of two of his guards and then pointed at the crossbows. Moving aside to let the crossbow wielding goblins room to shoot, the guard captain began loading the remaining two crossbows to hand to them after they fired. 

“We go tell Gnosh that kobolds attack?” Gurga whispered. 

“We no need Gnosh’s help to steal dragon, we not need Gnosh’s help now. He late. He miss fun.” Retch replied eyeing each of his men as they returned his sharp-toothed grin. “Now get down!”

The two goblins armed with crossbows immediately hunkered down behind the stone barricade while the others shifted behind the wall, out of sight from the hallway. Retch waited: the anticipation of the coming slaughter almost too much for him. Suddenly the bell above the doorway at the far end of the hallway began jingling. 

“Fire!” The goblin captain yelled as he quickly jumped out from his hiding space, and immediately the two crossbow goblins rose up and loosed their bolts. 

Retch was surprised to see that tall surface walkers stood in the doorway and not the cowardly kobolds. The first outsider, a dark figure wrapped in black cloth, nimbly leapt out of the way of the bolts, but a second figure, dressed in the shiny metal of a surface warrior, was caught unaware and his eyes went wide as the bolts slammed home into his lower belly. The armor-clad figure staggered backwards, obviously in shock, and slumped down grasping at the bolts. 

“Aim higher, thoqqua-bait! They more surface walkers not puny kobold enemy!” The captain screamed, smacking his troops on the back of their skulls while they traded the spent crossbows for freshly loaded ones. The transfer wasn’t fast enough though as another outsider jumped into view and used a staff to grab the door edge over the caltrops and pull it closed. Just before the door slammed shut, Retch saw the dark cloth-wrapped outsider thrust his small blade up between the door and frame, cutting the wire that held the alarm bell up.  As the trap fell to the floor, useless, the goblin could feel his temper rising. 

“What going on here, Retch?” A deep voice boomed behind him. 

The goblin captain turned to see Gnosh and his den of troops standing in the doorframe on the far side of the room. Seeing that the second watch had arrived, thus signaling the end of his den’s shift, Retch felt his mood lighten and a toothy grin spread over his lips.

 “Boring shift, bell alarm fall, so you be extra watchful. Not take eyes off door - maybe kobold attack soon or more outsiders like the one in shackles now. So… no bones. No cards. No drink. Just watch door!” The goblin eyed his replacement and grinned larger as he saw the look of disgust pass over Gnosh’s face. Retch knew nothing was worse than standing guard on watch, except actually working while on watch. “Or you could pick up spikes, fix bell alarm, and put spikes back down.” The look on the second watch captain’s face told the first watch captain all he needed to know and with that Retch turned, gathered his men and headed home toward the dens. 

As they left the room, Gurga pulled up next to him and spoke. “Why we no tell Gnosh about fun.”

Recth glanced behind him, the grin returning to his lips. “They late. They miss fun, now they learn the hard way. Let them suffer with careful watch of door. Outsiders easy anyway, we already kill one. We do our part, probably scare them off.”

Gurga’s returning grin and nods of approval from the remaining pack let Retch know that they agreed and it was time to relax. The captain knew that at least his den had seen the last of the outsiders.


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

*"Once More Into the Breach, Dear Friends," or "How Come They Get a Wall?"*

And it's post time! Right D'Shai?

Dagnabit! I'm on the phone! Leave me alone! 

Well, While D'Shai finishes up that important 900 number call, I'll take this time to say a few things and respond to a few of the comments we've gotten recently.

With GreyShadow's post, we've have just entered the "Wow" zone, where our devoted readers are reduced to saying "wow." Sure, we haven't hit the "wow" zone status of Sepulchrave II's story hours, but at least we're on the way.

As for something Badger said about simple enemies turning out to be not so "simple," buddy, you don't know the half of it. For those familiar with the Sunless Citadel, you might recognize quite a few of the villians we've encountered, but, as you might have figured out by now, not all the villians in that danged module turned out quite the same as the way Cordell wrote them...

Heck, sometimes when the characters look back on the whole thing we still don't know who exactly the good guys were (or even if they were us!).

By the way, D'Shai and I have just noticed that we're getting about 100 views per actual story hour post - if any of the other 70 or so lurkers out there want to post comments, please feel free - we love feedback (especially constructive criticism)!

With a pointed stick! 

Well, D'Shai seems to finally done with his "quality time," so let's get moving with a Tip o' the Day.

Tip O' the Day: Never make a man walk the plank if he is wearing a snorkel, fins, and a rubber innertube. Keelhaul 'em instead. 

What if there are sharks in the water?

Never works. Dark Knight Brand "Bat Shark Repellant." Ever since that stuff hit the market, you just can't get a decent plank walker. 

Adam West and Burt Ward are so going to sue you.

Bring 'em on! What are they now, like 137? 

Riiiight. And now... 


*****

"Once More Into the Breach, Dear Friends," or "How Come They Get a Wall?"

Ander closed his eyes and tried to concentrate. Nothing was going right and his head pounded like dwarven forge hammers due to the pressure he felt. Theo lay nearby, still unconscious from the crossbow bolts he took in the stomach: he was lucky to be alive. Only Pack’s quick thinking, along with his curing potions, had given the Priest a chance. The halfling bard sat watching over the old cleric, tending his bandages and singing softly to him. 

Ashrem paced back and forth in the small, familiar room the kobolds had once again provided them, making it hard for the woodsman to concentrate. The feloine was cursing himself for failing to notice the alarm that had led to Theo’s wounds and cursing even more the fact that they had wasted time on the kobold queen’s “test” in which they almost been killed by the lead rat and its minions. Ander himself was just glad that they had Aurora with them to handle the language barrier and politics of the confusing kobolds. _Gods know how we would have dealt with so many of them if she had not been here to interpret. Still, they will be dealt with…_

Ander sighed deeply, knowing that it would be awhile more before the sorceress returned from her meeting with the queen. They had all agreed that while Theo was recovering that she should try to get more information about the forces they were about to go up against, especially since the kobold’s leader had been so ‘forthcoming’ in the matter of rats.. Still, he was not happy about her doing it alone, despite the fact that she had Meepo with her. 

Thinking of Meepo caused the woodsman to shake his head. The little kobold was an enigma to the ranger. He was as violent as a raging northerner in combat and as docile as a trained dog when he was around Aurora. The kobold never took his eyes off her if he didn’t have to, and some times Ander caught the little bugger mimicking her motions: mimicking all their actions now that he thought about it, even stuffing things in his backpack the way Pack did. It drove him mad, especially the way he would stare at them when his name was mentioned and nod his head as if he understood them. Even more annoying: he would then do exactly what they asked him not to do. 

“By Zuras, what happened? Where are we?” Ander glanced over and saw Theo trying to rise up onto his elbows, but pain shot through the priest’s face and he lowered himself back down. “I remember sprouting crossbow bolts in my belly like ears of corn, but what happened after that?”

“Pack dumped two healing draughts down your throat and we high-tailed it back to the kobold safe-room.” Ashrem growled, still obviously upset at the events. 

Ander placed his hand on the feloine’s shoulder to calm him. “Are you feeling alright Theo? How long til you can move? I don’t feel comfortable leaving you here alone with the kobolds, while we venture off to find their stolen dragon.”

“Let me pray and with Zuras’ will I shall be fit for combat before Pack can find his flute.”

“I would not rush it.” Ashrem spoke, now that he had apparently composed himself, but certain words still had an icy tone. “We have plenty of time as Lady Aurora and her lap pet ‘Meepo’ are still conversing with our ‘allies’.”

“Nevertheless, I shall be ready in a thunderstroke.” With that Theo began filling the room with his chants and prayers in preparation of the coming conflict with the barricaded goblins.

It wasn’t long before the priest was finished and using his curative magics on himself, and shortly after that, to Ander’s relief, Aurora and Meepo came strolling into the room. The sorceress frowned as she entered but quickly smiled when she saw Theo up and fully recovered. Ander watched as she bounded over and wrapped her slender arms around the cleric’s neck, giving him a slight peck on the cheek as she held on. “Oh, Theo! It’s good to see that you are okay.”

“Yes lass, It’ll take more than a few thorns to stop a priest of Zuras, especially this one.” Theo seemed huge with the small sorceress draped around his neck, and Ander could tell that the priest was beginning to blush from the attention. From the looks on their faces, the others, especially Pack, seemed to find this as amusing as Ander himself did.

“Um Aurora, that’s a hug that Orloff would be proud of, but why don’t you let Brother Theo breath and tell us what you found out.” Ander smiled as it was Aurora’s turn to blush, but the slender female let go of the priest and gathered her composure to give her report. 

“Yusdrayl is quite please that we passed her test by defeating Guthash and she has given me some gifts to aid us.” Aurora reached into her pack and produced several rolls of parchment. “These are spells written on scrolls. Two are for you, Brother Theo. I know they are not hymns from Zuras, but keep them in case we need them. Yusdrayl said they were healing chants. She also gave me two more, but I haven’t deciphered them yet.”

Theo walked forward and accepted the scrolls from Aurora, but it was obvious from the disdain the priest showed that it would take dire circumstances before he enacted another God’s spells. The woodsman doubted that he would ever understand the fanaticism of devout church followers: it was too much like putting all your eggs in one basket. _I wouldn’t go to a blacksmith for a good weapon when the weapon smith is just around the corner, so why should I limit myself to asking one god for a favor when another might do it better. To each wolf his own pack, I suppose. _

“Well before the wine turns sour, let’s us plan out our attack. Aurora, fill us in with any new information as we do it.” Ander kept his voice flat, trying to get the other to understand how important it was that they have a plan and stick to it to avoid further setbacks and injuries. When he had met everyone’s gaze, he continued. “Aurora, ask Meepo if they have anything we can use to cross the spikes with.”

“Like what?” The bemused sorceress questioned. 

“A table or a door might work.” The feloine answered before Ander himself could. 

Aurora immediately turned and spoke to the kobold. It was unnerving to the woodland warrior to hear her voice mimic that type of guttural speech, but it was necessary. The question took several exchanges to answer but finally the sorceress turned and addressed the party. “Meepo says that he can go check but most of the wood has been used already for their barricades and fortifications.” 

“That was a long conversation for such a short answer.” Pack joked. 

“Well, he was curious about our ‘door fetish.’ You see I asked him about doors earlier and then again just now…Can we just move on?” Ander smiled as Aurora’s face turned red again, and the woodsman decided to save her. 

“Okay, well we did see some rubble and broken furniture in the area we fought the rats; that will just have to do. Anybody have anything else?”

Theo spoke up. “I will ask Zuras for a cloud of mist to obscure the vision of the goblins to keep them from pelting us with bolts while we take care of the spikes.”

“And I can be the one to lay the boards down for the rest of you since I have Rosehaven’s cloak.” Pack interjected. “I have been testing it when we have been walking, and it’s incredible. No matter how much debris and stuff is on the floor, I always manage to find a firm safe place to put my foot. I don’t know how it works, I mean I even tried to step on some sharp boards but nope, nothing, my boot found a firm stable foothold. Glass, rocks…”

“We get the point, Pack.” Ander knew that if he didn’t interrupt the halfling he would talk for hours. “Just be careful, even with the mists they will still be firing at you. Aurora you give Theo cover with your magical missiles….”

“Missile!” The bark of the small kobold made everyone stop and turn to watch as Meepo looked on excitedly, anxiously waiting for the blue dragons to fly from Aurora’s finger tips. 

“Oh goody!” Aurora clapped. “He’s starting to learn.”

 “Cover Theo with your dragon darts while he casts….,

“Prays” The priest put in. 

Ander sighed and eyed the cleric, who only raised his eyebrows in return. 

“… as he prays and Pack you get the boards down on top of the spikes as soon as the mists give you enough cover to do so. Ashrem and I will then take the fight to them…”



*	*	*



Ander looked things over once again: Ashrem was poised by the door ready to spring it open with Pack right behind him, boards in hand; Theo and Aurora waited patiently for Ander’s signal to begin casting; and Meepo looked around like a lost child. Confident that everything was in order, the woodsman gave the signal. 

Ashrem pushed the door open and then fell back to allow Pack room to move around him. Aurora loosed a dragon missile through the open doorway while Theo began chanting:  white mists billowed from his mouth as he did so. 

Ander heard surprised yelps and activity from down the hallway but they soon turned to panicked yells as the mists rolled steadily through. It seemed to Ander that everything was going as planned, until the lights dimmed and became nearly useless due to the dense fog. Suddenly it wasn’t just the goblins who sounded confused and disorganized, and the woodsman heard the sharp twang of crossbows followed by Aurora’s feminine scream. 

“ROAR-AH!” Ander heard Meepo yell as the woodsman ran towards the sound of her cry. 

As he rushed through the mist, Ander saw Aurora slumped against the wall, a crossbow bolt jutting out from her shoulder. He watched as Theo pulled her out of the line of fire so he could attend the wound, but what worried the woodsman more was Meepo. The small kobold just stood there breathing heavily, staring in the direction that the bolt had come from: the ranger swore that he saw froth forming on the corners of the kobold’s mouth.

Before he could look more closely though, another volley of crossbow bolts rebounded through the hallway and Ander heard Pack yell for him. “Ander the boards are all down!” 

“Ashrem, get ready!” was all that Ander yelled back before Meepo screamed at the top of his lungs. 

“Meepo!”  The woodsman cried, but it was too late. The enraged kobold sprinted off at full speed through the mists toward the goblin barricade. Ander ran after him trying to keep the small fellow in view and he watched as the scaly warrior leapt, using Pack’s huddled form as a springboard, and cleared the barricade, spear-point first. 

The mists were too thick for Ander to view what happened beyond the barricade, but the gurgling thud of something trying to breath with a spear sticking through its lungs was clearly audible. The ranger then started navigating the halfling’s carefully laid out boards, trying hard to go as quickly as he could due to the sounds of intense combat on the other side of the barrier. 

While the woodsman maneuvered over the boards, he watched Pack retreat back down to relieve Theo and wondered how the raging kobold had managed to get through without stepping on any spikes. When he finally reached the barricade, Ander climbed over, being careful to avoid the cruel barbs set atop. 

As he climbed, the warrior noticed that Meepo had apparently gone berserk and held four goblins at bay with nothing more than a broken spear haft. Ander jumped down from atop the barricade and escaped out from the dense fog, bringing his staff to bear on the first goblin that came into range.  The goblins, seeing an enemy that wasn’t a berserking kobold, quickly closed in on the lone ranger. 

Ander spun away, forcing the rushing goblins to put their backs towards the barricade in order to fight him. The woodsman parried and dodged the goblins’ thrusts and smiled as he saw Ashrem’s black form emerge silently from the fog directly behind the attacking goblins. The feloine’s deadly blade pierced the backside of one, pushing out through its chest, before any of the goblins even noticed his presence. 

The surprised goblins panicked even more when Meepo jumped on the closest one’s back and began biting its ear off, growling like a wild animal the entire time. Ander noticed, as he smashed the closest goblin with his staff, that the kobold was bleeding from multiple wounds, including his feet where small spikes had become embedded in his soles. The small scaly warrior looked exhausted and hurt, but he continued clawing and biting until the goblin he rode was dead, and then he too closed his eyes and fell backwards. 

“Theo, we need your healing up here!” Ander yelled as he pointed for Ashrem to check the far door, fearing that the sounds of combat might have alerted reinforcements. The woodsman waited until Theo clambered over the wall and then he jumped up to check on Ashrem. 

Ander joined the feloine at the door, where Ashrem placed his ears to the door and growled very low. “Get ready, they are almost on us.”

“Okay, we stand here. We can’t let them have this room back, it was too hard to take,” the woodsman proclaimed addressing the entire group. “Pack, guard Meepo and Aurora. Theo keep back until they are in the room.” 

“I don’t need to be guarded!” Aurora shot back. Ander could see the burning fire in her eyes aimed right at him, but he also saw the tear in her blouse where the crossbow bolt had been. 

Ander was saved from having to answer the sorceress’ stinging gaze when the door swung open and goblins swarmed into the room. The woodsman counted five armed little savages as they swarmed past him, and then he moved in behind them, closing the door to cut off any escape. 

The goblins skidded to stop when they realized that their guards were dead and that they were now surrounded. Ander twirled his staff and moved in toward the first of the snarling creatures. Tiny blue dragons flew in and blew its face right off though before he could connect with his swing.  Not to waste a motion, the woodsman reversed his swing and stepped in to smack the next goblin in line. 

Once again, his swing was too late, as two more missiles blasted this goblin from its feet, nearly knocking his lifeless form into the ranger. Ander glared at Aurora but the sorceress only smiled and a semi-conscious Meepo wagged his tail like a happy puppy. 

Turning his attention back to the fray, Ander saw Theo deliver an overhand swing that finished the goblin engaging him, but Ashrem was in trouble. The feloine was caught between two of the amber skinned devils. The woodsman noted that these two fought in tandem with each other moving in and out, keeping the feloine off balance with short arcing cuts. Already trickles of blood could be seen on Ashrem’s armor, while the two goblins seemed relatively untouched. 

Ander moved in on one with a mighty two handed swing, but he misjudged the speed of the agile goblin and his blow only smacked into the stone floor. The woodsman noticed that Theo’s rescuing swing had a similar effect on the other side of the winded feloine. Even with both swings missing their mark, Ander knew that Ashrem wouldn’t waste the distraction. 

As if on cue, the feloine sprang backwards off the wall and vaulted over his confused foes, landing right beside the woodsman. Neither warrior wasted a breath. Moving like a pack wolf and hunting cat, the two soon had one of the goblins isolated and flanked, leaving the last one for Theo to deal with. 

The goblin smiled, showing Ander that he wasn’t out of surprises of his own, and a small curved dagger found its way to his left hand to join the small sword in his right. The woodsman rained in blow after blow with his quarterstaff but the small target dodged and weaved, avoiding every one. The agile goblin even managed to keep Ashrem from landing any of his well-timed shots. Still Ander knew that the goblin was riding on luck, soon he would make a mistake and he and Ashrem would make him pay. 

It was Ander, however, that made the first mistake. The woodsman heard the familiar buzz of Aurora’s missiles and chanced a glance over to see the twin dragons strike the goblin engaged with Theo.  When Ander glanced back to see the short blade of the goblin dipping beneath his defenses, he knew that he had erred. 

Ander watched as the blade slid into his leather jack, just under his ribs. The pain almost overwhelmed the young warrior and only his training kept his staff in motion enough to deflect the dagger that the goblin tried to follow-up with. The woodsman staggered backward trying to keep his distance from the attacking creature but the goblin had whet his blade and followed with a flurry of blows. 

Through the waves of pain, Ander fought on. The woodsman noticed, as he dodged and parried, that the goblin focused all of his attention on him, and had seemingly forgotten about the deadly feloine.  That was the goblin’s mistake. 

A moment later, Ander slumped against the wall, smiling at Ashrem, as the feloine cleaned his blade on the goblin’s lifeless corpse. Theo jogged over to tend Ander’s wound even though the priest showed a few of his own. Aurora also came over, a concerned look on her face. The look slowly changed to a shy smile as Theo’s healing chant closed his deep gash. 

“Okay, we need a breather before we advance. Ashrem, scout ahead but stay hidden.”

“I think it may be too late for that, Ander.” Ashrem’s voice sounded calm, but the ranger knew that the feloine was upset. “It seems our little Pack has already taken it upon himself to do just that.”

The woodsman was on his feet instantly eyeing the door that now stood slightly ajar. With a few long strides the woodsman reached the door and yanked it open the remaining way. A short hallway stood on the other side that veered sharply to the right, and as he watched a small figure came bolting around the corner...

*****

Next Time: 

"Double Vision," or "You Never Gnome Who to Trust"


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

*"Double Vision," or "You Never Gnome Who to Trust"*

D'Shai? What the heck are you doing?

Packing! Only 60 more days until the ENWorld Ohio Gameday! 

Uh, I hate to break it to you, but that's still about 2 months away.

Yeah, but I get to be a _player_, Enk. You hear? A PLAYER!

So?

That means the return of the ultimate swashbuckling pirate character! 

Why do I ask... I suppose that he'll have an eyepatch?

As a matter of fact, yes he will. How did you know? 

Because all of your characters have an eyepatch. Geez, why don't you come up with something, oh, I don't know, original?

Like a swashbuckling pirate beholder? With an eyepatch! A really _big_ eyepatch! I got the idea out of the new Dragon! 

Yeah. That's exactly what I meant. Sometimes your mind reading abilities amaze even me.

Well, when your working with such a small space it's easy to find what you're looking for. So let me try again - you're going to play a fighter and show all these ENWorlders exactly how bad you roll. Or will you play a non-combative cleric, mage, bard, or something else that doesn't have to roll to hit? 

That's it, I'm taking my dice and going home.

But you are home. And those are my dice. Wouldn't want to have another "dice incident," would we? 

How was I supposed to know Champ was using Fett's dice? And we found 'em anyway. Well, most of them, at least. Can we just move along? You've managed to dredge up every painful gaming memory I have, all the way back to childhood so far. Too much more an I'll just, well, develop psoriasis.

It's a good thing you weren't involved in the photocopier incident or we'd be here all day. Oh well, TIP O' THE DAY! 

Never throw dice at the gaming table - especially when they're not yours. Corollary to the Tip of the Day: never make fun of your DM when he is gearing up to actually play, you slacker. 

You know, I'd normally say I'd been duly berated, but I know where you keep your high school prom pictures, mullet boy.

You're in those pictures too, baby face.

And on with the show!

This week's post gives us a little break in the action, so take a deep breath, as it gets bumpy from here on out. We're also trying out using multiple points of view in a single post, so bear with us!

*****

"Double Vision," or "You Never Gnome Who to Trust"

Theo knew instantly that it was Pack careening toward them by the oversized rucksack that rested on his back, but the priest had never seen the bard run so fast. As the halfling fully rounded the corner, two bolts shattered against the wall behind him and a third sank harmlessly into his backpack. 

Theo rushed past the halfling brandishing his flail. “Quickly, before they can sound another alarm.”

The great war priest then bounded forward, prepared for a mighty horde of goblins. What instead awaited him were three crossbow-laden goblins frantically trying to reload. Theo lowered his head behind his shield and rushed the closest one. The cleric’s charge smashed into the goblin, lifting him off the ground and propelling him backwards into a wall followed by the full force and weight of the rushing cleric. 

The sickening snap of crushed bones echoed through the large chamber the cleric now found himself in. The room was long and narrow, with straw targets at the near end and a short barrier blocking the other. The barrier resembled a crude archer’s wall and behind it stood more goblins, crossbows at ready. 

Theo pulled his shield around, back to a defensive position, allowing the crushed goblin to slide lifelessly to the floor. The priest barely brought his shield to bear as the two rear goblins loosed their bolts, granting cover fire to the retreating pair. The bolts slammed into the cleric’s shield splintering the already damaged wood. 

 “Always carry a round shield lads! Archers can’t resist; it looks just like a practice target!”  Theo cried at the passing woodsman and feloine, who both shot a glance back at the crude circular targets near the priest, before speeding on ahead. 

Theo also moved forward, admiring his two warrior companions as they engaged the panicked goblins. They poor creatures had not been able to get the bows loaded, nor their melee weapons drawn, before the twin furies were upon them weaving their destructive dance. Only one goblin survived the initial assault by ducking under the crude wall, and he ran with all his heart trying to get to an adjoining hallway.  

Theo almost felt bad for it as he stepped right into the path of the terrified creature swinging his flail to meet its face. The ensuing impact caused the goblin’s nose to explode and propelled its head backwards. The priest followed through with the well placed blow, causing the creature’s feet to cartwheel back over its head as the body tried to continue its frantic run forward.

“I think we got them before they could cry for help.” Ander said while the war priest removed his water skin and began cleaning his flail head.

“I agree.” Ashrem chimed in. “But besides the way we entered, two passages and a door also lead from this room. If a goblin had managed to escape before we got here, it could have been in any direction.”

Theo looked up once he had finished with his cleansing task and peered around, taking a moment to look down each dark hallway as far as their meager spells and torches allowed. Each hallway appeared long and empty, filling the priest with a sense of dark foreboding that caused him to mutter a quick prayer to the Storm Lord. “Wash away my doubts, Zuras, as your rains have cleansed a thousand valleys, and grant me the strength, like your tornados, to follow my path.” 

“Say one for the rest of us as well, good Theo.” Ander cut in. “I think we could all use a little divine inspiration.”

The priest turned and saw that the entire group was now lined up next to him eyeing the dark hallways, and each member of the small band had the same disheartened look upon their face. It appeared to the experienced cleric that the wounds of battle, both physical and mental, were beginning to wear on the young heroes. One he could cure with Zuras’ divine gift, the other one was up to the individual to overcome. Still, Theo prayed, a little inspiration couldn’t hurt, a sign that they were actually helping and making headway. 

“Oy! Is somebody out there? How ‘bout a bit o’ help in here?”

*	*	*	*	*


Aurora’s ears perked up at the sound of the thin voice. “Did you hear that?” she asked to no one in particular.

“Yes, Lady, I did.” Ashrem answered. Aurora could almost hear the curiosity in his velvety voice. “And I believe it came from the other side of this door.” The feloine glided over the stone floor toward the source of the sound.

“Careful, Ash. Theo, Pack, take that side – I’ll take this one. Aurora, you and Meepo guard the rear.”

“Pixie Dust! I’m not helpless here, Ander!”

“Aurora, this isn’t about…”

“I said,” Aurora let the ice in her voice show her anger, “I am not helpless.” 

Ander looked at the sorceress with sad eyes, and she felt as if she had just been hit with another crossbow bolt. As her stomach sank, she could see the worry in face. After an awkward pause, the woodsman answered again, this time with more calm in his voice. “Aurora, you and Meepo take Pack’s spot. Pack, keep an eye out behind us.” Aurora looked over at Pack, and the halfling shrugged back at her in response while he moved into position.

During this exchange, Ashrem had been busily checking over the door itself, with a little ‘help’ from Meepo who mimicked the feloine’s motions perfectly. When he was done, Ashrem turned back toward his companions and with a nod that Aurora assumed to be an ‘all clear’ signal, he pulled the door open. 

“I was wondering when you would finally get around to doing that.” The voice they heard was weak, yet strangely merry. “Never expected me rescuers to be havin’ a domestic squabble ‘afore they busted me out.” 

The flickering torches barely lit the interior of the room Ashrem had opened. The feloine led the way in, with Ander following close behind. Meepo then slinked in, ushered forward by Aurora, who in turn was guided by the Brother Theo’s reassuring hand. In the chamber sat thirteen small, huddled, and chained forms. Almost all of them were kobolds, but one was something small and bearded, and adorned with a huge nose. It was this person that continued speaking. “Well? What are ye waiting for?”

“Who are ye, er I mean, who are you?” Pack said from behind the friends. As he worked his way underneath the crowd toward the front, Aurora began to see why Ander had asked her to guard the rear. “Why are you here? And where are you from?”

“Well, I’m from all over the place, really. I’m here because I got captured by those stinking goblins. And, me name is Erth Snydenose, at yer service. I’d shake your hand, but I’m a bit tied up at the moment.” The little man hefted his chains to punctuate his point. “Anything else you want to know before you get me free?”

Ander answered the prisoner. “No, that should do for a start. Ash, you think you can get him free?”

“Give me a moment of relative peace, and I do believe I could.”

“In the meantime, Erth, maybe you should tell us a bit more about how you came to be here…”

“Of course, me lad. Me mates and I had been contracted to…”

Aurora watched as the feloine inspected the chains, tracing the links up and down the length of the open cell. Just as he set to work in earnest, Meepo tugged at the sorceress’ hand. He whispered to her in broken draconic, “Rora Angel free Meepo clan-mates now?”

“I didn’t know those kobolds were from you’re clan, Meepo.”

“Yes, from clan. Free now?” The kobold looked up at her with pleading eyes, like her youngest brother asking for a bit of pastry. “Please?” 

In the short time since Aurora had met the kobold, Meepo had never asked for anything. On the contrary, the scaly beast had instead given the sorceress and her friends as much help as he could, without a second thought. He had even fought beside them, and, from what Theo had said while healing her bolt wound, had led the initial charge to the goblins behind the halfwall. Aurora couldn’t find it in her heart to tell him no.

The sorceress moved around the three companions interrogating the little man – _Actually, he looks a lot like a gnome, now that I think about it._  Careful not to interrupt their conversation, she came up to the feloine. “Ashrem, do you think we can set the kobolds free as well? They’re part of Meepo’s clan.”

The scout growled at the sound of Meepo’s name, and Aurora instinctively looked around for the kobold. Meepo had strayed from his normal place at her side and was instead talking with the other kobolds in the cell, spending just a few moments with each in turn as he made his rounds.

“I do not believe I will have a choice in the matter, Lady, as their bonds are interconnected. Freeing the gnome – _so he is a gnome_ -  will free the lot of them.”

“It needs to be done anyway. Not only is it the right thing to do for Meepo, I think it will make it easier for us to deal with Yusdrayl after we get the dragon. I don’t think we should trust her.”

Ashrem regarded her with a long stare. “My Lady, that is the first thing I have heard you say regarding the kobolds that makes sense. Now, if you will excuse me?” The sorceress fumed at the feloine, anger flashing in her eyes, and was about to retort when she heard a quiet huffing chuckle.  She had heard it once before, after the oh-so-proper scout had snuck up on Pack during their journey overland. 

“Are you making fun of me, Ashrem?” She let a bit of steel creep into her tone.

Ashrem continued focusing on his work as he answered, “I would never seek to embarrass a Lady, my Lady.” He tried, unsuccessfully, to keep the humor out of his voice. He cleared his throat, “However, I believe you are correct about the level of trust we should place in the kobolds.” He paused for a moment, as if ready to say more, and looked over toward Meepo, who was finishing his rounds of the kobold prisoners. “You should check on your pet, Aurora, before he rouses the rabble.”

Aurora stepped away from the feloine, perplexed by his manner as always, and patted Meepo on the head. When she did so, she saw the chained kobolds’ eyes widen, and several fell to their knees. _What has Meepo been saying to them, I wonder?_ “Come on Meepo, let Ashrem do his work.” The kobold guide took her hand and waddled away from the prisoners. Then she patted him over to an empty corner of the room and turned her attention back to the gnome, who seemed to be finishing his tale.

“…and that’s about all, I guess.”

“Gods,” Pack exclaimed, “that’s amazing! So you and your band of stalwart fellows were hired by a powerful mage to find a magic elixir and came to this underground keep and fought the goblins we saw and you threw that spear through the goblin and pinned it to the wall and then you fought the rats where you got separated from your friends and run into a goblin patrol who captured you and beat you and put you here?”

“Well, I would have said it with more breaths, and in fact I did. And I would have given more detail, which, come to think of it, I also did. But yes, that does sound familiar. Mage, elixir, keep, goblins, rats, captured – yes, that about covers it.”

Theo interrupted, “There’s only one thing I have a question on, Erth. How did someone of your, ahem, stature manage to bury a spear through a goblin and into solid stone?”

“That would be from me chain gauntlets. If I were wearing them right now, I imagine I could’ve broken through these chains already.”

As Erth pointed to the chains, the metal links began to move with a clinking sound. Then, suddenly, the main chain connecting Erth’s bonds to the both the wall and the rest of the prisoners snaked through the rings holding it. Aurora looked over at Ashrem, who was yanking arm length after arm length of rusty iron through the rings set into the walls and depositing them in a heap at his feet. Soon, the gnome and a dozen kobolds stood, and moved gingerly around the room, as if testing their legs to see if they still worked. 

“I’m much obliged to ye, friends. Now what about these shackles?” The gnome again held out his arms, which had been bound securely with manacles. “Might I impose on ye a bit more?”

“Ashrem? You think you can do these too?”

“Of course, Ander. Give me a moment to collect my tools, please.”

Aurora stepped away from the gnome to give the feloine room to work, as did Ander and Theo. Pack, however, continued talking. “So where will you be going when we get you loose? Want to come with us?”

“No, me boy. I don’t think so. I need to be getting back into friendlier lands. You see, I got…”
Aurora’s attention was pulled from the conversation by the feeling she was being watched. She looked behind her, and saw a row of thirteen kobolds staring at her back. Meepo stood in the center of the former prisoners. As if on cue, they kobolds moved quickly in two lines up to the sorceress, and each kobold in turn knelt at her feet. They proceeded back away from Aurora and silently lined up before Meepo. 

Then, each kobold embraced the small guide and shuffled out the door. On their way out the opening, they murmured something to Meepo that Aurora could barely make out. “Aurora angel bless us all. Meepo save us all. We not forget…” Again, the sorceress wondered what their guide had told the kobolds, but by the time she found her voice the prisoners were gone, heading back in the direction of the kobolds’ home. 

Meepo simply looked at her, showed his teeth in what she had come to recognize as a smile, and promptly sat down where he was to fiddle with one of the goblins’ discarded crossbows.

She started toward the guide, full of questions, when she felt a hand on her backside. Stifling a squeal, she jumped out of the way of the hand’s owner.

“Sorry lass! Just on me way, you know.” Erth sauntered by the sorceress and stood framed in the doorway. He turned back toward Aurora and the rest of the friends. “Now remember, if ye find me gloves, or the elixer, I’d be appreciative if…”

“We’ve got it, Erth.” Ander waved to the gnome. “Look for us in Icemist. Hopefully we won’t be away too much longer. You sure you don’t need supplies before you go?”

“I’ve told ye, lad – I can take care of meself.”

“Gods watch over you then.”

“And over you.” The gnome turned away to leave, but looked over his shoulder as he moved slowly away. “Remember, lads and lassie, I owe you one.” Then he was gone.

Aurora turned back toward her friends. “Well? Which of the hallways do we check first?”


*****

Next Time!

"Sorry, Wrong Door," or "RUN AWAY!


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

*"Sorry, Wrong Door," or "RUN AWAY!"*

Alright, give me back my sandwich.

No way. You know the rules: no food til turkey day. 

D'Shai, we went over this last year. Getting ready for turkey day does _not_ mean that I have to starve myself for a week before hand.

Last year you filled up after the 17th helping. This year you're going for the record! 

What record?

I don't know. Bill Shatner's Greatest Hits? 

Now you're just being silly. And not in a good way. Now _give me back my sandwich_.

No need to froth at the mouth. I'll get you a new one. 

What happened to the old one?

Yoda the dog ate it. 

WHAT?

Look you're obviously sufferring from malnutrition. Just like when you went on that all Grape Nuts diet and got 'regular'. Why don't you go sit down and I'll make you a new sandwich. 

Right now I don't feel like arguing. Just make sure the sandwich is real this time. Two slices of bread with an IOU for the bologna does not a sandwich make. 

And now it's time for the Tip O' the Day! This is one I came up with while helping Enk diet this week.

Burping creates room for more food, so drink lots of carbonated beverages.

Hmm, I don't remember bologna being green. Oh well, he's probably delerious by now and won't notice... 

*****

LiVeWiRe gripped his weapon and gulped as he looked over the horde of approaching goblins. The orange skinned devils grinned wide, displaying their sharp yellow teeth as they marched into the large room. Columns upon columns of the neatly lined troops filed in, stamping their feet and brandishing their weapons. “Um, are you sure this is what you guys wanted?”

“Yes it is.” Black Bard heroically answered. “Just like the heroes of Icemist, we shall prevail.”

“HULK DO ANYTHING THAT WORM DO.” The large barbarian answered as well. “HULK WISH WORM WAS HERE. NOT FRAIDY DEADWIRE.”

“I hate to be the voice of reason boys, but they do outnumber us by just a few…..thousand.” Dawn chimed in while patting the hulking green warrior on the shoulder. “How’s the lock coming Ashy?”

“It’d be fine, if these ol’ tiefer hands would stop shaking s’much. Blasted rust. Somefin ain’t right with a berk wot’ll design a dungeon with doors that automatically lock behind a blood.”

“Fear not, Ashy!” The noble Badger called. “We shall protect you as Meepo protects Aurora.”

“I agree.” The dark bard continued. “They shall lay down their lives so that your nimble fingers may open the door that allows me to take your triumphant deeds back to the masses, so that you may be remembered as heroes, just like Ander and Ashrem.”

“Doesn’t it seem odd that they all look the same?” Rel asked.

“Not exactly, Rel,” Thorntangle answered. “Actually, they all look like the goblins described in goblin interlude. See, there’s Retch, and then Retch again.”

“But, how is that possible!” LiVeWiRe’s exaclamation surprised everyone, even himself.

“Say, you’re HULK,” Rel explained, “Then say your PC broke right about the same time that the goblin interlude was posted. Then you make a wish to fight the goblin nation on some ring you found. It seems to me that all the goblins would look like ones you were familiar with.”

“Aye, make’s sense to this ol’ tiefer”

“That’s it, game over man.” Livewire started repeating. “We’re all going to die. Game over.”

“I think he’s been waiting his whole life to quote that.” Dawn remarked while rolling her eyes.

“HULK GETTING MAD! HULK NOT LIKE BILL PAXTON!”

“Guys, I think I have an idea.” Badger smiled. 

TO BE CONTINUED. 

*****

Whoops! Wrong story! Start again...

*****

"Sorry, Wrong Door," or "RUN AWAY!"

Ashrem ran his gloved hand over the rough wood of the door, being very careful not to make any sounds. The feloine’s sharp hearing had detected the high-pitched whiney voices of several goblins just beyond the wooden portal, so there was no reason to suspect a trap; however, the feloine scout liked to be thorough. 

He almost growled when the gloves caught on another small splinter as he tried to trace the outline of the door. The gloves made his job more difficult, yet he had become strangely accustomed to wearing them - he seemed to be in disguise all of the time since he had woke up that cold morning. 

It had been a year, and yet he still struggled to piece it all together. One minute he was running through the woods as demons chased him; the next he was lying in a snowdrift barely able to move. 

With a quick look over his shoulder, Ashrem realized that everyone was waiting for his signal before moving forward. He also knew that, down in these catacombs, his disguise was pointless. His companions already knew and accepted him for what he was, Meepo being the exception, but the great cat didn’t think the kobold had the social capabilities to care. The feloine removed the glove and again ran his claws over the surface of the door, looking for any indication of a trap. He didn’t find any, and he also discerned that the door was not bolted or barred in any manner. 

Once again he turned and eyed his companions, but this time he held up four fingers while motioning towards the door. He paused and waited for some form of visual recognition from the group - the feloine knew that Ander understood his hand signals, but he wanted to make sure everyone else did as well before entrusting his life to them. The nodding of heads and readying of various weapons were all the indications he needed. 

The feloine set his ear to the door one last time, making sure that the goblins were still unaware of their imminent peril, and then he too unsheathed his blade and pushed into the door. 

Ashrem’s training kicked in as soon as he pushed against the door and the feloine took a quick account of the room as he tucked and rolled. He dodged a small cooking fire and four stunned goblins as he tumbled to the far side of the room, cutting off any easy escape through the second door now at his back. The goblins all scattered, grabbing for weapons and pieces of armor. The feloine would have been impressed at their lack of fear given the situation but he instead felt disgust because he realized that this was a watch post and that these goblins were anything but watchful.  _A good soldier is always vigilant and never lets his guard down…

Then why did you leave your squad when they were defenseless?_

The sudden change in thoughts distracted the feloine as he searched for an answer: an answer that had eluded him ever since the night he had abandoned his post and let his friends die. Only Ander’s warning cry managed to drag the feloine back into the fight in enough time to deflect a spear thrust and avoid a pot of boiling water hurled his way. 

Ashrem cursed himself as he saw the element of surprise was lost, for now the four armed goblins posed a significant threat in the small room. Theo and Ander fought from the doorway on the far side leaving Ashrem two of the grinning devils to handle on the near side. 

The feloine felt the rage churning up inside him as the goblins’ toothy grins mocked him, reminding him of the sharp fanged demons who hunted him in the woods after slaughtering his company. Instinctively, he suppressed the boiling urge and steadied into a defensive rhythm. Block, deflect, swing, thrust, block, _move_: the feloine danced in and out of the two goblins. They seemed baffled by his intricate fencing moves, just as Ashrem guessed they would, coming from a ‘might makes right’ society.   

Ashrem tested the goblins skill for a few moments more and then with practiced ease he turned his defense to offense, letting Razor’s keen edge slit each goblin’s throat as easily as it would slice fishing twine. The bodies collapsed the floor and convulsed several times before blood began to well up from the precise cuts. 

“I thought they had you there, Ash.” Ander said as he stepped over the fallen bodies, examining the feloine’s handiwork. “You okay? That’s the second time I’ve seen you daze out during a fight.”

“Just a memory, Ander, nothing more. I assure you it will not happen again.” Ash replied turning away from the ranger. “I think I should scout ahead in case we were heard.”

“Right, but if you need to talk Ash...”

Ashrem did not bother to respond: he had no words to tell his story. He did not have them the day the woodsman, his closest friend, found him in the snowdrift, and he did not have them now. In any event, he was best to leave the past in the past.  All he could do now was make certain that his debt was repaid to the village that had healed him. Maybe there was still time for him to do some good before he faced his own kind and the swift retribution due to one who had deserted their King’s ranks. 

Lost in thought, the scout pulled open the new door and drifted silently into the hallway. Once lost in the shadows beyond Aurora’s light spell and Pack’s torch, he turned his attention back on the task at hand, losing himself in his actions as he searched for any signs of the thieving goblins or the lost dragon. 

The feloine found himself in a short hallway that ended in another door, and even in the dim lighting his sharp eyes made out clearly the crude symbol of Meepo’s kobold clan, etched deeply into the aged wood. Ashrem stared at the symbol in disbelief for several moments; soon he felt the familiar bubblings of the rage building inside himself yet again. With a sudden twist he turned and stepped back into the room where his companions rested, and more importantly where Meepo sat. 

“Meepo what is beyond this hallway?” The feloine growled coldly, staring right at the kobold. 

“What’s the matter, Ash?” Ander asked, stepping in front of the fuming scout. 

Ashrem sidestepped his friend and stared at the sorceress. “Aurora, ask ‘Meepo’ where this passage leads.”

“Not if you don’t calm down and ask nicely.” She quipped back, shoving the confused kobold behind her.

“Aurora, please.” This time the feloine left the ice off his tone. “I need to know where we are.”

Aurora glared at him for several heartbeats but then turned and spoke to the confused kobold. The kobold responded to the Sorceress’ words and this time Aurora looked confused. “He says that his clan is on the other side of the door.”

“What?” Pack, Theo and Ander all seemed to say at the same time. “How?”

“We have traveled in a circle.” Ashrem eyed the kobold as he talked and moved closer to the creature. “Maybe another ‘test’ from the queen? Or perhaps there is no dragon to be saved and they are just trying to get us killed while we eliminate some of their enemies too?”

Ashrem knew that Aurora could see the look in his eyes because she hastily turned and began blabbering to the scaly warrior. Meepo nodded his head and answered both with words and a visual demonstration that consisted of smacking his head and falling on the floor in an imitated death scene.  The feloine stared hard at the sorceress and her pet, and he could see that Aurora was biting her cheek to avoid laughing. Ashrem could feel the rage boiling again until she responded. 

“Meepo says that they don’t use that hallway anymore: not since the accident.” The lady was literally holding back a laugh at this point. “Neither do the goblins. It is the most trapped passage in the entire keep and both clans are scared witless by it.”

“Explains why they weren’t really on guard over here.” Pack remarked as he kicked one of the lifeless goblin corpses.

 “Still, this would have been much easier than trying to go over that wall.” Theo rubbed his belly where the crossbow wounds had been. “Maybe we need to phrase our questions differently for our guide, to take into account his own superstitions and experiences?”

“I agree.” Ander started in, but the feloine had heard enough and he quickly crossed the room to exit out of the original door looking for signs that might get them done with this damnable quest and away from the cursed kobolds.  

Ashrem sulked down the hallway until it filled out into a larger chamber lined with ornate marble pillars leading to a large metal door. Torches sat comfortably in sconces on each pillar, though only a trio of them still flickered and smoked. The feloine’s warning senses sprang into action and he silently slid into the shadows of the pillars to gauge his next action. 

With just a brief hesitation, Ashrem slid silently up to the door, hoping to get a good listen before reporting back to Ander and the others. The feloine closed his eyes and listened once he was hidden close enough to the large door. A constant rumble emanated from the other side, the kind of rumbling that often springs from a large group of individuals moving around in an enclosed space. 

“Ashrem?” The feloine’s eyes shot open at the slight whisper of Pack’s voice, and the scout was surprised to see that the small bard had made it up to the large door without him noticing. The halfling had left behind his torch, and somehow crept past the scout. 

The feloine padded quietly toward the halfling in case there were alert guards on the other side of the portal. He kept silent until he realized that Pack was going to open the door. 

“Hold!” He heard himself cry, but it was too late. Ashrem watched as Pack turned to face him, a smile growing on his cherubic face, but the halfling’s ever busy hands continued to pull the metal door open as if they had a mind of their own. The agile feloine threw himself forward, bowling the small bard over as he slammed the door closed before it could be opened more than a few hands wide. 

 Ashrem continued his tumble, carrying Pack with him, until he was behind the pillars on the opposite side of the room. The feloine slapped one hand over the dazed halfling’s mouth to stop any barrage of questions before they started. With the other hand he silently shushed the bard. 

The metal door creaked open, and Ashrem suddenly realized he was holding his breath. A pair of steel shod boots clanked over the stone floor into the middle of the chamber and stopped on the other side of the pillar the scout was hiding behind. Then a goblin voice called out, as if searching for something or someone. After a handful of thudding heartbeats, the boots clanked back toward the heavy door. Just as the door began squeaking and creaking closed, Ashrem saw a growing glow from down the hall. An overloud whisper accompanied the light, “Pack! Ashrem! Where are you?”

That slight sound was all it took for the door to open instead of close.

“Goblins!” Ashrem shouted, running back toward the light, now plainly held high by Theo. Ander and Aurora stood beside him, with Meepo a pace behind. Ander was the first of the three to react to the scout’s warning, and moved quickly past the feloine, covering both his and Pack’s retreat. 

“How many,” he said as he passed his friend.

“More than one.” The feloine stopped and reversed direction, following the ranger back toward the door, now spewing a quartet of goblins: unarmored, but armed with wicked looking hand weapons. Seconds later, he and the woodsman were thick in the fight. 

Razor slid over the ribs of one goblin, laying the flesh wide, as Ashrem ducked under a wild swing by the goblin next to his target. Ander seemed likewise busy, as he parried their clumsy attacks and struck blow after blow. Then Brother Theo rushed into the fray, swinging crushing blows into their foes. 

Two dozen heartbeats later, three of the goblins lay in a mangled heap: some with cuts, some with breaks, and some with the telltale signs of Aurora’s dragon headed missiles. The last suddenly broke and ran, moving quickly toward the door. Ashrem watched in amazement at the speed with which Ander dropped his staff and slipped his already strung bow off his shoulder into his waiting hand. Then, continuing the motion, the woodsman drew an arrow, nocked it, and sent it on a fatal errand. It lodged deeply in the retreating goblin’s neck as it yanked open the door, and with a loud gurgling sound, the creature fell dead in the doorway. 

Through the door, Ashrem could see the shadows of a horde of the beasts cavorting around some unseen bonfire. Then, closer to the opening, he heard the clanging of steel on steel as a huge armored figure stepped through the entry…


*****

Next Time:

"Old Flames Reunited," or "Lucy, I'm Home!"


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

*"Old Flames Reunited," or "Lucy, I'm Home!"*

Hello true believers! 

We have another installment ready for you. I know its on the short side, but I can't pry Enk away from Neverwinter Nights.


Pool of NWN! 

Especially since we found the translation of the original Pool of Radiance. I also am addicted, but I love my fans too much to forget a post. 

Hey, D'shai they have the tour! THE TOUR!!!! What? Entry 23? Do you still have the journals and translation wheel?

Yes, they are next to the Commodore 64 and Atari stuff. 

Anyway, its time for the Tip o' the Day...

<Cue lights>
<Cue sound>
<Zoom in on D'shai>

Man I hate working with a budget.

"Remember this holiday season to attack your foes with a weapon of wounding, its the attack that keeps on giving."

And for your Allies, get them Neverwinter Nights. I rate it 4.5 Galleons on my 5 ship scale. Which means I would pirate 4.5 galleons to get my hands on this game.
 

Wha? Hold on just a second. How in the hell of being skinned alive do you pirate half a galleon?


Well, Mr. PoopiePants, if you must know I have a formula.

1 Galleon = 2 Barques
1 Barque = 2 Sloops
1 Sloop = 2 Pinnaces
1 Pinnace = Beginning of the game if you are a Spaniard before 1760

So, I could easily get half a Galleon in a plethora of ways. 
 

Right. 

Say, what's that sound coming from your game over there? 

Great, I'm getting monkey stomped by kobolds. KOBOLDS, I SAY!On the bright side, I'm almost to Sokal Keep and your character is still taking the tour. Hah!

<Cue fist here>

Owww! Quit It.

*****

"Old Flames Reunited," or "Lucy, I'm Home!"

“Missile!” Meepo pleaded, hoping that the Rora Angel would cast her brilliant dragon magic at the metal clad forms emerging from the goblins’ main rooms. Though the kobold knew that, of the many attempts made to attack the dung grubbing goblins, all had failed, he trusted the Angel and her followers. It was brave of them to attack the dung grubbers head on, just like the Scorch-God would.  

Meepo puffed out his chest in pride at being hand picked by the Rora Angel to stand with them, but his knees continued to shake as many of the giant armored goblins came to stand in the hallway. The pale skinned hobs were easily twice the size of the goblin rank and file, and because of their size and strength they usually had the better armor and weapons. One hob for each of them quickly lined up in the hallway and Meepo watched as the Soultaker and the Rora Angel’s Lifemate backed up toward him and the Angel. 

When no more than a good spear throw separated the two groups Meepo once again tugged on the Rora Angel’s arm, wondering why she had not unleashed the dragon power. Since he still could not say much more than the one magic word in Angel Speak, Meepo resorted back to his common language. “Hurry Rora! Many more smaller clan live in dung grubbers’ great room. Let them see dragon magic and be afraid!”

Meepo’s legs stopped shaking and his heart began to race when he saw the Rora Angel’s soft scales whiten and her eyes grow large in full dragon rage. She then turned and began barking commands in powerful Angel Speak at her followers. The satisfied kobold knew that magic and death were sure to follow.  

Lifemate surprised Meepo when he shouted and started to run back the way that they had come. The kobold was shocked more when the Angel nearly yanked him off his feet, following the other outsiders as they too turned and fled. Even the Soultaker scampered down the hall. Meepo also ran along beside them, doing his best to avoid the gaze of the Angel knowing that she was going to be very angry with all of them for running. 

They ran until they entered the large room where the Angel had freed Meepo’s clanmates from the goblins and then the Angel’s follower’s again surprised the kobold. Instead of retreating back down toward the kobold camp, Lifemate stopped and motioned them in the other direction, down a different hallway. Then Lifemate grabbed rocks from the floor and joined them behind the corner of the hall. The Angel and the small wailing one extinguished their lights as they all huddled together.  

Meepo sat confused until he heard the sounds of the approaching hobs and then saw Lifemate throw the rocks back toward the kobold home, making a great amount of noise. The kobold understood that the Angel was teaching Meepo by using kobold tactics to fight the goblins, so that when Meepo return to the clan they would not need her anymore. She would be free to help other clans. It saddened Meepo to know that Rora Angel would one day leave him, but he knew it was his duty to learn all that she had to teach. 

Once the clanking of the armored hobs had disappeared around the bend, Meepo knew that it was time to ambush them from behind, in true kobold style. Grabbing his spear, he started out, hoping to impress the Angel. He got four steps out before the Angel’s dragon light illuminated him and Lifemate grabbed his tail and yanked him back behind the wall. Meepo started to protest, but the large thunder outsider grabbed his mouth and held it shut. 

Meepo stopped squirming when he noticed that the Soultaker was busy looking at two other doors behind them as well as the floor around them. The dark warrior turned to face them while running his finger across his throat and pointing at the ground in front of the second door. The confused kobold began sheepishly squirming again, trying to loosen the grip on his mouth: he was ashamed that he couldn’t learn without asking questions, but he knew it was his duty. 

Just as he managed to yank free, Meepo saw the door behind the Soultaker fly open and goblin warriors poured out. The first of the rusty skinned warriors leapt at the Soultaker, a thick bladed knife angled at his black spirit reaping heart, but the Soultaker seemed prepared for the move. The dark warrior moved with speed to match the fastest kobold and dodged the blow, flipping the goblin over his shoulder as he did. The surprised goblin hit the floor with a resounding thud, and then disappeared as the floor beneath him opened with a soft clack. The three remaining goblins paused for a breath as they eyed the now ready Soultaker and the open pit trap behind him. 

The Angel’s Lifemate broke the pause as he begged the Angel for her to aid the Soultaker with the “Missiles” as Meepo himself had done earlier. However, unlike Meepo’s plea, the Lifemate’s wish was rewarded with dazzling dragons that sprang from her outstretched hands to explode into the nearest goblin. The kobold knew he had to get back into the good graces of the Angel so she would grant his wishes, too. Then, in an instant, he knew what he would have to do. 

“*Meepo Missile!*” The kobold cried out in the Angel Speak as he launched himself through the air spear first at the next closest dung grubber. He felt the impact as the gift spear from the Thunder Outsider bit and then punched through goblin’s chest, his weight driving it home out the other side. Meepo growled as his eyes meet those of his target, who seemed to stare in odd disbelief at the kobold’s bizarre tactics, before closing forever in the eternal sleep. 

Lifemate finished off the final goblin with two fast blows to the head before pushing him past the Soultaker into the pit. Meepo pulled his Thunder Outsider present free from the goblin corpse and did likewise, taking time to watch as the body spiraled into the pit and smashed into the bottom. 

By the time Meepo looked up he saw the Soultaker gracefully land on the other side near the second door. “Meepo missile,” the kobold heard him mutter to himself as he shook his head before running his hands over the rough wood of the door. The Soultaker pulled his clawed hand back after initial contact with the door however and he held it back out for them. Meepo was puzzled at first until he saw that a light frost covered his black-clawed hand; frost that could only have come from a dragon’s breath. 

Excitement filled his body and the small kobold could barely contain himself as he leapt over the pit and joined the Soultaker on the far side. Using his small size to his advantage, Meepo squeezed under the dark warrior and pushed on the door. The door, however, was locked and shut tight, and his small weight was not enough to force it open. 

Meepo felt his anger rising and backed up on the small landing, leaned his spear against the wall and prepared to charge the locked portal. The Soultaker however moved and blocked the door, turning his back to the small kobold. His anger already near the boiling point, Meepo started reaching for his weapon when a soft click caught his ear and the door swung open. 

The room beyond the door glistened and sparkled from the layers of ice that coated the walls, floor, and a second door on the far side. The contents of the room not completely pulverized also had a thick layer of frost. Sitting atop the largest piece of furniture, like a Queen surveying her subjects, was Calcryx, white scales shimmering in the Angel’s light. 

“Cal!” Meepo screamed upon seeing his precious ward, and the small dragon turned and spied the kobold for the first time.  The kobold keeper knew that she was just as excited to see him as he was her by the way she bared her teeth at him and took flight straight for his outstretch arms. 

Meepo clasped her in a tight hug as she barreled into him wrapping her tail about him. His excitement grew as she began ‘cuddling’ with him, playfully biting and clawing at his face and neck. The kobold knew that she usually had the bars on the cage to restrain her love and affection so he was not concerned when she began scratching and biting too deeply, drawing blood. 

The attention, while painful, felt good to the dragon keeper and he embraced the dragon harder to signal that he had enough. Cal though had obviously missed him more than he thought and she kept cuddling, increasing the speed and power with each playful snap. Meepo felt weak as the love bites added to his earlier injuries but the small kobold wanted Cal to have her fun. A final joyful snip on his neck, though, sent the kobold spiraling down into the warm darkness filled with dreams of love and affection. 

*****

Next Time:

"What's in the Pack?," or "Sunless Citadel on Ice"


----------



## dshai527

> Excellent story telling. Did Ashrem really lose the surprise due to his memories? If so, how was that role-played? Either you have really great players to do that or you’re utilizing that artistic license. No matter. The story is great!




This is what makes DMing so much fun for me, The fact that I have great players..... most of the time. Kidding. All  of my players take time to really flesh out and play their characters to the fullest. They even let me say, "are you sure that is in character?" and pause to consider it before saying "Yep? mind your own business." 

Fett plays Ashrem very well and even gives himself negatives and such as the situation merits. He rolls randomly for nighmares and fits of depression, and has a fun time doing it. 

Bubba also plays Pack just as he is written, often spouting on for several minutes when we try to roleplay a small conversation. He also rolls Will power saves to keep from blabbing info to anyone who will listen. (This is great later on)

Enk often points out that he would not have certain knowledge or says, "I fail my save because I wasn't paying attention to what was going on." (By the way to be fair I write anything that Ander does in the story just so we don't get a biased view of how Enk thinks Ander should be, but instead how he really comes off in the game)

Aurora is really new to the game and so her character really shows that, and she likes it. She doesn't want game play to stop for her to understand something (slow yes, stop no) she just learns from it, like her character. 

Worm, well he is Worm. You'll just have to trust me on that one. 

Theo is played very well, often quoting "I didn't use that spell because i feel it would not have benefited or been seen favorable by my god." (Many arguments have ensued as they tried to convince him otherwise)

I applaud all of those, past and present, who have played in my world and help make me enjoy being a DM as much as I do. 

P.S. Yes we still do take some creative license but not as much as it might seem. They really are just that good at roleplay. Take last night for instance....but that would give it away now wouldn't it. Lets just say it involves a Wolverine and a talking Tower.


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

*"What's in the Pack?" or "The Sunless Citadel on Ice"*

Hey Enk! It's been awhile, so I think it's time to open our fanmail and answer some questions! 

We have fanmail?

Yes we do - look at that pile over there! 

Dude, that's your laundry.

No, the other pile. 

You mean that huge stack by the couch?

No, that's bills. You see where you're hand is? 

Yeah?

Not there. Over to the left. 

D'Shai, all I see is a letter, a postcard, and some wadded up pieces of paper.

That's it! Now gimme those.

Our first letter reads:

Dear Enk,
What are you getting D'Shai for Christmas?
Signed, 
D'Shai

Dude, that's not cool. You can't use fake fanmail to interrogate me about what your getting for Christmas. Besides, I already told you, you're getting a stocking full of motor oil. Oh, and coal.

You want to know what I'm getting you? 

If it's anything like last year, no.

Have it your way, it's better as a surprise, I just wouldn't wait til after Christmas to open it... Our next letter - this one is a postcard.

Dear D'Shai,
How do you come up with your Tip of the Day?
Signed
Kobolds Stole My Baby
PS: Please never let Enk do another TotD! 

Dude, you wrote that PS part in crayon! Bad form!

That's all the let me have on my "vacation." 

Just give them the Tip and let's get on with it.

Wait!, One more letter - this one came attached to a brick thrown through Enk's window. By me. 

The depths of my hatred for you have not yet been explored.

Dear story hour guys,
What are you like in real life?
Signed,
Inmate 8675309

To give you an idea, here's a list of some places we've been asked to leave, some more nicely than others.

*Several fast food establishments.
*Three separate hotels.
*One elementary school neither of us attended (Children's Theater mishap - backstage dance).
*Taco Bell (this one was memorable enough to get its own entry).
*Multiple theater chains (one of which Enk was working at at the time).
*Every bowling alley within a 30 mile radius, as well as one in Cincinnati.
*Denny's (except at 3AM, when they actually encourage us to stay).
*And my favorite, Toys R Us. 

He's especially proud of that one - they had district meetings about him, and he might still be mentioned as an anecdote in the employee handboook - something about animal stampedes and the arming of America's youth. 

Now for the Tip o' the Day:

Polymorph Any Object adds loads of fun to any campaign. 

Have I told you, lately, that I hate you?

Hey, I rolled randomly. And one more letter: This ones from Dawn:

Dear Guys,
Well...... How about that update?
Dawn
PS: Please never let Enk do another TotD. 

Alright, give me the crayon and push the button.

I push the button! 

*****

"What's in the Pack?" or "The Sunless Citadel on Ice"


“I thought you said Meepo could handle the dragon!” Ander cried, perplexed at the grisly meeting between dragon and keeper. 

“He said that Cal loved him and would obey him!” Aurora shot back, seemingly just as confused. “Help him, Ander! She’s killing him!”

“Yes.” Ashrem’s calm voice contrasted with the growling and snapping ball of scaly fury ravaging their guide. “And it seems he has failed to notice that minor detail, just as he fails to understand exactly how much I loathe him. I say that if he cannot control the beast, than he is as useless to us as he is to his clan, let him die.”

Ander noticed that Ashrem moved toward the grappled pair to help even as he spoke ill of the kobold, but Aurora obviously didn’t. Twin dragon headed missiles flew past the woodsman and feloine to strike the tiny dragon, knocking it off Meepo’s unmoving body. 

“Bones, Aurora! We need it alive! That goes for everyone! We capture it or subdue it!” Ander moved forward approaching the small dragon as he would a wounded wolf or bear, carefully extending his hand as it rose back onto its feet. For a moment, it seemed as if he would be able to sooth her just as he had done to the Reeve’s favorite wolfhound when it’s leg was caught in a trap. Too late, he realized that Cal had other plans, and the dragonet opened her mouth to unleash a freezing cloud of mist. 

Ander, already in a partial crouch, managed to tuck and roll under the cloud using his cloak to shield himself from the worst of the freezing air. The woodsman felt his left arm go numb as he passed through the mist, but in an instant he was clear of the chilling rime and the feeling started to return. As he gathered his feet under him he noticed that Ashrem had also rolled away, but to the opposite side of the tiny wyrm while Aurora and Pack had pulled Meepo out of the room for Theo to attend to. 

Flexing his arm one last time, the woodsman gripped his staff and nodded to his feloine counterpart. Ashrem pulled his short sword but with a flat-side grip and nodded back. In tandem the two moved toward the crouching dragon and attacked. 

Ander’s first blow fell wide as he slipped and nearly fell, not realizing that the frosty floor would be so slick. Ashrem looked to be in the same predicament as he too struck wide of the dodging Cal and then flailed his arms to maintain balance.

“These are not ideal conditions for dragon hunting, my friend,” the feloine remarked while freeing his tail from his cloak to better balance himself. Meanwhile, Cal glided to the far end of the room and hid behind what appeared to be a frozen desk. 

“Meepo will live, and I am free to help….” The loud clanging of armor sounded throughout the small room as Theo also encountered the ice-covered floor. “Ow! I’m okay!”

Ashrem moved to help the priest while Ander circled toward the dragon’s hiding spot. As he carefully rounded the side of the desk, Cal sped through the air, startling the woodsman. Instinctively, he lashed out hard with his staff, altering its flight path. Instead of making good its escape through the open portal, the wyrm angled downward and flew directly at the recovering priest. Theo responded by once again crashing noisily to the ground, almost dragging Ashrem with him. With a tiny, self-satisfied roar, Cal drifted silently over to land on a frost-covered bookcase. 

“Pack! Close that door and help Theo. Your cloak hopefully gives you sure footing on ice as well as brambles and spikes.” The bard quickly complied with the woodsman’s orders and soon had the room sealed and Theo standing. 

Ander brought his attention back to the dragon and he and Ashrem began circling as a team, trying to keep the beast between them. The young dragon seemed to once again detect their ploy and unleashed another blast of her freezing breath. Ander tucked and rolled, noticing that Ashrem was well ahead of him, as if the feloine had known it was going to happen. _I need to ask him how he always manages to do that...  _

Both warriors found their feet amidst a loud clattering as Theo again lost his balance, for once again the dragon had flapped near him. The tiny wyrm landed atop the desk and unfolded its wings, taunting the four would be captors.

“Ander! Judging by her size, and the stories I have heard, she’ll need some time before she can breathe another one of those ice blasts! I’d attack now, but be careful because it looks like she’s gotten really smart for her size: she really did a number on Meepo!”  Pack’s voice huffed as he again helped Theo to his feet. “Theo, your armor is too bulky and heavy for this.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Ander saw the priest’s face redden and he knew that Theo realized he was not helping in this situation: rather he was actually hindering them. However, the woodsman didn’t have time to comfort the cleric and tell him how much he had already done for them; he needed to attack and attack now. 

Squaring his feet, Ander moved in and began spinning his staff in hopes of keeping the dragon from taking flight. On the opposite side Ashrem seemed to read the woodsman’s tactics and also moved in flashing his weapon in wide arcs, giving the winged serpent no place to run. 

Cal seemed to know how much trouble she was in and launched herself at the woodsman. A quick smack with the staff drove her back, but the small beast drove forward again. Another blow landed, this time where Aurora’s missiles had exposed the flesh, and Cal slammed back hard into the desk, obviously dazed. A swift blow to the head dropped the small dragon into unconsciousness. With a short wave, the woodsman smiled at his friends knowing that the task was almost done.  

The mechanical click of a key working the lock on the second door caused Ander’s smile to drop and the woodsman returned to the task at hand. Bending down he grabbed for the sleeping dragon and prepared to run. “Ashrem. Pack. Help Theo get out. We’re about to have company.” 

As the others made for the door Ander attempted to hoist the dragon onto his shoulder, but the small size of the beast was deceiving. His muscles bulged but he was barely able to lift the dragon more than a foot off the floor. Contrary to the dragon’s aerial acrobatics and graceful prancing, the creature was actually densely muscled and weighed more than one of Onkus the Cooper’s anvils. Ander realized that at this rate he would not make it very far before the dragon-nappers were upon him. 

Ander looked around desperately, searching for something to help him move his burden, when he heard the door swing open. Looking up, the woodsman watched as four large armored goblins rushed into the room brandishing weapons. They charged directly toward the ranger, and Ander opened his mouth in a silent scream as he watched his death run him down.

Suddenly, the first of the goblin warriors lost his footing on the slick floor - just as Theo had - and tumbled down, dragging the rest of the group with him. Soon all four goblins were a writhing mass of arms and legs as they tried unsuccessfully to stand on the frozen surface.  As they slipped and slid, Ander thanked every God he knew and Zuras twice just for good measure. Then, the goblin’s antics gave the encumbered ranger an idea. 

Setting the dragon back on the floor, Ander shoved as hard as he could. The compact dragon’s body scooted effortlessly over the slick stone floor, stopping only when it reached the edge of the ice. The woodsman gave chase by sliding on his belly, and reached into a pouch at his side for his remaining vial of Wishbone’s Brew of Health. He knew that the strengthening effect was short lived, so he would have to hurry once he gulped it. His fingers closed over the rough stopper of the vial - which he had memorized after his last fiasco - and he drew it forth as he gathered his legs beneath him for another, final push toward his unconscious bundle of scales, wings, and claws. 

A heartbeat later, a crossbow bolt sprouted from Ander’s thigh and pain lanced throughout his body. The young ranger fell forward as his leg no longer supported his weight and, as he slammed into the floor, Wishbone’s Brew slipped from his fingers. The vial slid across the floor, coming to rest next to the dragon’s limp form. 

Ander looked back as he ripped the bolt from his leg, and saw a fifth goblin enter the room, by far the largest goblin that he had ever seen. A tarnished, pitted, and ugly crown sat atop its equally pitted and ugly face.

This goblin king stepped fully into the room like a nobleman who had just shot a prized deer, and shoved its crossbow into the hands of one of the armored warriors. The warrior, who had just found his footing and was unprepared for such a move, was bowled over by the powerful thrust and again ended up as part of the pile of goblins on the floor. 

Ander pulled himself to his feet and faced the goblin king, who drew a curved sword as he approached. Unlike his heavily armored minions, the goblin leader had no problems on the slippery surface of the dragon cell and soon his swift blade was upon the woodsman.  

Ander dodged and weaved as best as his bleeding leg would allow, but the Worm-sized king was more than a match for the wounded warrior. The ranger managed to avoid most of the sword blows, allowing only a few nicks and cuts, but the Thrice-Cursed-Fiend often punched, kicked and even bit at the woodsman as well. Ander also knew he was running out of time, even now the other goblins were beginning to untangle themselves from their pile. 

“We are all on the other side of the pit trap, Ander. Hurry before they cut off our escape route.” The feloine’s voice was accompanied by a crossbow bolt shot into the leg of one of the armored goblins as he tried to rise, knocking him back to the floor. A volley of Aurora’s missiles followed knocking another goblin back into the tangled mass on the floor. 

Ander blocked a weak sword blow with his staff, but the goblin king had lured him into dropping his guard and landed a stiff punch to his wounded leg. That leg buckled, dropping him to his knees: he knew that a fatal blow couldn’t be far behind. 

With speed and strength born of desperation, the woodsman pushed into the goblin as it swung its killing blow. The sword bit deep into his shoulder but Ander pushed on, shoving his attacker back across the room. The goblin backpedaled, trying frantically to find some footing on the ice-covered floor to stop the ranger’s somehow surefooted charge. 

Ander pushed until he neared the armored goblins, which had once again regained their feet, and then he gave one last heave, launching the king through the air towards its followers. The goblin leader stumbled backward over the throng, sending them all sprawling once again to the floor. 

Ander wasted no time, quickly turning and sliding for the door, grabbing the loose vial as he came to a stop. The angered shouts of the goblin king sounded behind him and the twang of Ashrem’s crossbow before him mixed in a confused cacophony as he tore open the stopper and downed the contents of the vial. He felt his muscles tighten as energy flowed through his body. With renewed vigor, he effortlessly hoisted the small dragon’s frame and stepped back to leap the pit. 

With one step and a magically enhanced leap, the woodsman felt himself flying through the air. As he crossed the gaping pit, Ander felt a sharp pain: first in his back and then his chest, and then he was across, landing solidly on the hard stone floor. His momentum carried him forward, so he continued to run, aware now that Theo and Pack were also engaged with attacking goblins at the far end of the hall. Aurora was carrying Meepo and attempting to cast her magics to help the company secure their retreat. 

Aurora glanced at the ranger as he moved toward them, and suddenly stopped in the middle of her casting, concern in her eyes. Ander watched as she bit back a sob and her skin turned a sickly white. Knowing that he did not have time to explain his many nicks and cuts, he attempted to sooth the maiden and then call for Ashrem to catch up, but when he tried to speak only a bubbling cough came out, nearly choking him. 

Ander glanced down almost in fear and saw that a crossbow bolt jutted out nearly two fingers breadth from his studded leather jerkin.  The woodsman nearly swooned, realizing that Wishbone’s magical potion was the only thing keeping Gauntlet from sending one of his dark servants to reap his soul. He also knew that the powers of the potion were very short lived, and that that god – the Lost Hand of Tyr – would soon claim his own. _Guantlet’s drow may take me, but they will not have my friends._ Spitting blood, the woodsman burbled what he knew to be his final command. 

“Run!”

***


Ashrem watched helplessly as Ander shot by the crouched feloine, running with his magically long strides toward the rear guard. The feloine had seen corpses in better shape than his closest friend; Wishbone’s Brew was the only thing standing between the woodsman and death’s door.

The scout cursed silently as he stowed his crossbow in his magically large rucksack and drew out a potion of his own. He knew that Ander would not stop, even at the cost of his own life, if he thought he could lead the company to safety. The only way to stop him was to catch him, an impossible feat, without magical aid of his own, when the ranger was using his magical boots. Ducking under another crossbow shot, the feloine tore the stopper out and drained the contents of the vial. Then he felt his fur tingle as his heartbeat quickened and he felt Wishbone’s Brew of Speed take hold. For a moment, his vision swam, as if he was badly drunk on cheap wine. With a shake of his head, he fought off the feeling and sped off after his dying friend.


***


Pack was scared, and he didn’t know why.

The swinging swords, blood-soaked floor, and dead bodies weren’t helping, but the bard knew that they weren’t the cause of his fear. The halfling had sparred too often with Worm to be scared of a few goblins, no matter how bloodthirsty. Something worse than goblins lurked just outside of his awareness.

The halfling dodged another swipe and thrust weakly back, once again sinking his lucky dagger to the hilt. Yanking the blade free, Pack danced around, almost absentmindedly relying on the mimicked footwork of his bigger sibling. _You need a name, lucky dagger. I can’t be a hero if my blade doesn’t have a name. How about Flicker?_

The dagger struck but failed to pierce yet another goblin’s leather. _Nope, not Flicker. How about Riftrunner just like Morthannan’s famous sword?_ The goblin’s armor again turned the blade aside, and Pack moved to his left as he knew Worm would want him to, avoiding the goblin’s clumsy return swing. _You’re right: it wouldn’t be right to have two Riftrunners in history. _

The bard’s dagger jumped out to his right, intercepting a kick aimed at the aging priest to his side. It was as if Worm stood over him, moving his arms as he had done so many times before when teaching the little halfling the knife fighting tricks he knew. _‘Because you never know when you might need to use a weapon to defend yourself or your family.’_ The huge half-orc’s words rang in Pack’s mind, just as they had when he first spoke them, and he realized that he had never understood what they meant.

Pack unthinkingly ducked under a wild swing and countered with a swing of his own. While he did so, he began to really look at his surroundings: Theo was to his right, grunting with each swing of his heavy weapon, and he heard Aurora’s reassuring voice chanting behind him. Over his shoulder, he saw a pair of eldritch dragon heads blow by and hit the goblin in front of him, singeing the goblin’s already orange skin and knocking him backwards. Then the bard looked down at his feet, and nearly retched.

The goblin bled from a deep stab in its belly as he waited painfully for Gauntlet’s Drow to take him to his final rest. All the while, the goblin stared accusingly at the halfling. In horror Pack watched himself, with Worm-like efficiency, stoop down and bury his blade deep in the goblin’s throat, putting him out of his misery. It felt as if Worm still controlled his movements, _‘Never fight until you have to, but if you have to fight, fight to win. And if you’re fighting someone who wants to kill you, the only way to stop them is to kill them first.’_  The goblin gurgled as blood flowed from his wound, and tears began to flow down Pack’s cheeks. 

His legs moved him up and over the body to come even with Theo, who fought to put down the last of the goblins cutting off their escape. As he did, he could almost hear the gurgling of the goblin continue, as if it still accused him from the grave. Then he heard Aurora gasp behind him and turned to see a dead man walking toward him carrying a limp dragon over one shoulder. It gurgled one word.

“Run!”

He had already taken several steps before he realized that the bolt-skewered figure running beside and then before him was Ander, hefting the tiny dragon over one shoulder as he trailed blood out of his horrid wounds. Soon Theo and Aurora reached him and then passed him, their long strides taking them swiftly by the halfling. Pack looked back over his shoulder to see Ashrem running up toward him and then, suddenly stop. The feloine ripped free his sword and cried out to bard, “Go on ahead Pack! There are too many of them!” Then he began swiping at the air, cutting and thrusting as if locked in battle. Pack, however, saw no goblins at all.

“Too many of what, Ashrem?” Pack continued to move as he questioned the feloine. “Hurry, before they catch up!”

“They have already caught us,” the scout growled back. He paused, ducking under an invisible swing before skewering an equally invisible foe. Then, cursing loudly, he broke and ran toward the halfling. “My weapon is ineffective, Pack. These skeletons are just as dangerous as those bramble blights. Run.”

“What skeletons?” Pack asked.

“RUN!” The feloine roared like a great cat and Pack bounded forward as quickly as his short legs would carry him. He rounded the corner with Ashrem a few moments behind, and sped into the room where the goblin’s practiced archery just in time to see Theo rushing out the far side, heading for the goblin’s halfwall. Out of the other door, the one that led to the hall with pillars, poured the goblin king that Pack had seen in the dragon’s room, leading another half dozen huge armored warriors. 

Pack sped off toward the exit, only to see the goblins moving to cut off his escape. In an instant he knew he was doomed – they would catch him before he got through the door. Suddenly from behind him, he heard Ashrem’s roar. “Pack! Hold still!” The bard stopped cold, trusting the feloine had some plan to save them both, and turned.

Ashrem was leaping through the air directly at the halfling. His eyes were hard, and the snarl he wore on his face would have scared a barbarian. In his arms, he held his rucksack. “Drop the dagger Pack. It cannot go where you will be.”

The halfling stared as the feloine drew closer, unable to interpret the shadow warrior’s sudden strange request. He couldn’t part with his lucky dagger: Pack knew that all heroes had their special weapon. He stood there, with feloine and goblins bearing down on him, motionless and confused, but Ashrem made the decision for him and ripped the dagger from his hands. With a smooth motion the great cat flung the weapon away. 

Stunned, the halfling watched helplessly as the dagger arched in the air and disappeared into the charging horde and Ashrem opened his backpack wide and held it out before him. The scout put the pack over Pack and rode it down until the halfling was swallowed whole, which seemed impossible to the bard. 

In the silent darkness, Pack shivered: alone. _I never even gave it a name._

*****

Next Time!

"The Greater Good," or "Meepo Claus is Comin' to Town!"


----------



## Badger

*checking pulse*

System growing weak...need update soon...world fading to black...*dramatic swoon*

Help me Obi Wan Enkhidu...this thread is our only hope...

Happy New Years everyone..hope it was a safe and festive one had by all.

Badger


----------



## Black Bard

BUMP!!


----------



## Dawn

Okay, the holidays are over.  It’s time to entertain the masses while they have lunch and pretend to work.  

Needing that update!


----------



## Bubbalicious

Enkhidu said:
			
		

> *Just wanted to say that the next post is in production, and should be brought to market just before the end of the holiday shopping season.
> 
> Or,
> 
> we're still working on it, but look for it later in the week! *




Yeah, but he didn't say what holiday!!!


----------



## Black Bard

BACK TO THE TOP!!!

_And still waiting for some more Small Beginnings..._


----------



## Rel

Rel is patient
Rel is kind
But post an update
If you don't mind


See?!  I'm writing (awful) poetry over here!  This is what it's come to!  You guys need to post an update.  I feel a haiku coming on here.

BTW, Dawn, you should check out our NC Game Day thread in the General forum.


----------



## Dawn

No, not a haiku!

We’ve been patient.   We’ve been good.  We deserve an update.

Thanks, Rel.  I’ll head over to check out the posting.


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

*"The Greater Good," or "Meepo Claus is Comin' to Town!"*

Rel should never do
that which he has done to us:
writing mismatched poems 

We are NOT posting in haiku.

Three syllables used 
is not the standard haiku. 
Use five, seven, five. 

Look, I'm not kiddin' here.

Worm is really strong, 
his half brother Pack is not.
HULK should be happy. 

By the way folks, sorry about the long time between posts - the holidays can really be murder on a guy. Oh, and whatever D'Shai is too.

Pirates on the sea,
eyepatches, and swashed buckles
make me say"Arr, mates!"

Will you stop doing that!

The Tip O' the Day: 
"Never let your inlaws stay 
on a holiday."

See what I have to put up with?

Enjoy!

 I almost forgot - it's Enk's fault!

*****

"The Greater Good," or "Meepo Claus is Comin' to Town!"

_He swam in a sea of pain, foundering in its madness. Red waves washed over him again and again, choking the life out of him as he struggled to keep his head above the foam. Worse, a great weight lay on his back and chest: pushing him down, dragging him towards the death awaiting him below in the darkness. 

He swam for his life, away from dangers he knew and toward dangers unknown, knowing that even if he were to escape from his unseen foes, his doom still drew nigh, and his strength would soon falter, and he would be dragged into the depths of pain, never to breathe the clean air.

He swam in fear, and brought his head up in one last desperate cry…_

Ander’s voice croaked as he opened his eyes and shuddered. “Ander’s awake!” The halfling nearly sprinted across the floor to the woodsman’s bed and grabbed the young man’s larger hand with both of his smaller ones.

“I may be awake, but am I alive?” the ranger asked weakly. 

“Most assuredly, my friend,” said Ashrem, “though it was quite a close thing.” The feloine sounded haggard, as if he hadn’t slept in days.

“You gave us quite a fright, lad.” Theo’s usual rumble had a note of relief in it. “But tis good to see you awake again.”

“More like its good to be…” Ander stopped mid-sentence and had a short coughing fit. 

“Don’t strain yourself, Ander!” Aurora’s voice sounded as if it was about to crack, “It would be a shame to lose you, when I… we, just got you back.”

“Ha, She’s right, lad. Lie back and rest for a while.”

“Someone want to tell me what I missed?”

“Oh! Me! Me!” Pack jumped up and down as the words flowed out of his mouth like a waterfall. “First you grabbed the dragon and tried to pick it up and then you drank a potion and then the goblins came and fell on the ice and then…”

“Pack, Pack! I was there for that, “Ander broke in. His voice seemed strained, though he wore a weary smile on his face, “what happened after?”

“Well, you told us to run and then…”

Theo’s rumble interrupted the halfling, “Pack, as colorful as your recollections are, let’s cover all of that as we agreed while Ander slept. And, now that he is awake, I’d say that this is as good a time as any. Do you feel up to it, son?”

The woodsman looked up at the older man. “Feel up to what?”

“A Cloud Council, Ander, a Cloud Council.”

***

Meepo paced back and forth in the small pantry. Grismth was late, though that suited the kobold since his mind was still reeling with the past days events. The Rora Angel and the outsiders continued to confuse the kobold: he knew that the Angel was here to teach him the Scorched god’s ways, but they were so very different from the clan’s teachings. 

He was most disturbed by the actions of the Soultaker and the outsiders especially where they concerned the Lifemate. By clan law, when the Lifemate collapsed from an obviously mortal wound after reaching the clan hold, he should have been stripped of his belongings by other warriors eager to gain his gear and weapons. Instead, the Angel followers worked together as a team to save the Lifemate. 

Meepo remembered jumping down from Rora’s arms and watching as the small Wailing One stepped out of the Soultaker’s backsack and pushed his fingers and a rag cloth deep into the wound while the Soultaker himself pulled the iron arrow from Lifemate’s chest. At first Meepo had thought that the dark warrior was escorting the life essence to the scorched one, but then the armored Thunderer laid his glowing hands to Lifemate’s chest.  Again and again the Thunderer bellowed until finally, just as Meepo’s had after Cal’s hugs, the wound began to close. Afterwards they sat around the warrior, anointing him with water and covering him with blankets, and Meepo knew that they felt scared like he had when Cal was missing. More concerning to the small kobold was that he had felt the same way about the large warrior: he didn’t even take the Lifemate’s carved fighting stick which was lying right next to him. 

Meepo had heard that while he was away, getting Cal back into her cage and reporting to Yusdrayl, the heroes didn’t even leave their room or allow visitors in. The Queen had banned him from seeing the outsiders until after the celebration feast, which was to be held in two torches time, even though she had talked with them since then. It hadn’t taken long for him to realize that he missed being with the odd outworlders and hearing their strange speak. He was able to understand many of their words now and he liked it when the Angel spoke to him. 

“Strange ones those outsiders, yes?” The soft voice startled Meepo and he turned and growled at Grismth’s dark shape as it emerged from behind the storage shelves. Many in the clan did not like the stealthy kobold, but Meepo had found his shadowy gifts and goblin contacts quite useful in finding food and trinkets for Cal.  

“You get them?” the Angel-touched kobold asked. 

“Yes Dragon-Keeper, but not without price,” the kobold sneak replied, motioning for Meepo to follow. 

The pair walked out of the small room through the great hall where the clan could be seen hanging goblin heads in preparation for the victory feast. Both he and Grismth paused and glanced suspiciously around before entering a small side room usually reserved for prisoners. The room was now empty, except for a large pool of blood and a bag in the far corner. 

Grismth walked over to the large bag and reached inside… 

***

Theo looked around the makeshift circle, meeting each member’s gaze. Pack stood to his left, followed by Ashrem. The feloine stood close by Ander, who lay in his bed, and Aurora, who nearly hovered over the ranger, flanked the woodsman on the other side. Then the aging cleric glanced down at the simple wooden rod in his hands and spun it, gazing at the intricate knot-work. After a few long moments, he cleared his throat and began.

“As I have already told you, this is a Cloud Council. Since the foundation of the faith, this council has stood as the true testament of Zuras’ will and the true voice of the church. Like the thunder, each member will have his voice heard; and like the lightning, we shall swiftly carry out our decision. 

‘With Zuras’ voice, so shall we speak, and, if we speak true his guidance shall be granted. As the Thunderhead I shall mediate, but first I shall explain the proceedings. 

‘I will begin by speaking the facts as they have been presented to us; once I have done that the Storm shall begin. This rod that I hold in my hand is called the Spark. It ignites the session and allows you to speak freely, without fear of repercussions and without judgment on your opinion. When it is your turn you shall take the Spark, state your name, and voice your opinion. Once it is in your hand, it is your duty to speak on the topic presented to either try and sway others to your side or reinforce someone else’s opinion.  When you are finished, you will pass the Spark to next member and assume the duty of listening. At no time may you interrupt or question another member, though while you hold the Spark you may pose a question to be answered by someone down the chain. Once the Spark has come full circle to me, I shall calm the Storm by stepping down as the Thunderhead and speak my own opinion until the call for vote comes.  At this time, the Spark will again be passed: but on this pass each of you will be required to vote or abstain before passing it on. When again the Spark reaches me I will vote and announce the path we will undertake. 

“Are we ready to begin?” The solemn nods of his companions told the priest that they understood the serious nature of this meeting. So with a deep breath he gripped the spark and began. 

“Often in life we are forced to make difficult choices. None are more difficult than that which lies before us. As a reward for our efforts against the goblins and the return of their clan ‘totem’, Yusdrayl has kept her promise and informed us that the kidnapped children were taken by the clan’s old master in order to be sacrificed under the new moon. The new moon rises in a little more than a two weeks and the Master’s castle is deep within the Icemist Mountain and many dangers stand between us.” 

Theo glanced at the bed-ridden woodsman, ensuring that he had a chance to soak up this new information before he continued. “Overland, we would be hard pressed to even reach the mountain in that time as the snows have already started to fall up there, not to mention the barbarian tribes, polar worms, and ice trolls.” Theo watched as Ander’s face set itself in a steely mask, and the ranger took a breath as if to say something, but Theo continued in order to stop the interruption. “We, however, have been given an alternative route: the same route that the kobolds themselves took to arrive in the underground castle we stand in now.”

“Deep beneath this citadel is a trade route that the goblins and goblinkin use to avoid surface detection - a route that leads right into the Master’s lands. We have been given, by Yusdrayl, a key.” As if on cue, Pack dug out and held up a large golden key.

“That key,” the priest continued, “will open a door to a way that will lead us around the kobold’s enemies, down through the Citadel, and out to this underground road. But this is where the dilemma presents itself.”

The older man looked around at his younger companions and paused. For much of the time Ander had been out, the remaining four had quietly argued back and forth about this problem. As he scanned each face, he saw more than a few glances at woodsman, as if each person hoped he would be able to make a final decision. _Even I am looking to him, I suppose._ “The lands beneath the citadel are also home to a demon. A demon trapped in the soul of a tree. A demon that has been awakened, and even though it remains trapped, it is spreading his evil across our lands.”

“What!” Ander cried, before Aurora laid a gently restraining hand on his shoulder.

Theo rushed through the rest of his speech: “Even now, this demon spawns unholy children in the form of walking brambles. It looks as if the twiglings we fought on our trip here were more of its children. Even as we rest here this blight is blanketing the land and nearing our homes. So here is the decision we must make – do we go and destroy the tree on our way to save the children, or do we go directly to the children and bypass the tree?” Theo paused a moment, and handed the Spark to Pack.

***

“This one very costly, had to trade to get it from goblin leader hands. You could got much more for less. It not special, no smell like magic” Grismth proclaimed as he drew a small dagger from the sack.  

“It special.” Meepo smiled as his partner handed him the small thin blade. The kobold warrior knew that the small Wailing One would prance and wail when he handed him back his precious fighting instrument, for he had heard him crying about it while they anointed Lifemate. 

“And Magic.” He said lastly as the image of the Wailing One continued its dance in his head. 

***

Theo looked expectantly at the halfling, and for a moment, the bard seemed lost. Then, with a deep breath, as if ready to deliver a long and flowery speech, he began. “I am Roscoe P. Tosscobble, called Pack by my friends. You know, we’re heroes, the Heroes from Icemist. This is what heroes do. We’ve fought goblins and subdued a dragon. People are going to tell stories about us. I don’t want those stories to be about how we let a demon corrupt the land. We should go after the demon, and do it right now, because that’s what heroes do.” Then the halfling held out the rod to Ashrem, continuing the circle.

For a moment, Ashrem simply looked at the halfling and then the rod, as if expecting the normally wordy halfling to have more to say. Then, with a sigh, he held out his hand and accepted the Spark.

***

“This one very easy. Very nice too.” The sneaky kobold muttered from deep within the bag breaking Meepo from his trance. The angel touched kobold watched as Grismth emerged from the bag holding a pair of white gloves. The claw coverings seemed to shimmer in the torchlight much like the icy scales on Cal’s back where the plates came from to mold the gloves in the first place. 

“Soft scales from hatchling make good claw covers. I keep this one for all payment?” the shifty thief asked with a smile. Meepo’s quick snatch of the pair seemed answer enough as the sneak growled and turned back toward the bag. Meepo knew that if he let Grismth keep the gloves then Soultaker’s claws might take more for payment when he found that the present was meant for him. _The Soultaker claws too sharp for any other covering but these. _

***

The aging priest could tell he had perplexed the scout by making sure he would have his turn in the Council before Ander, for Ashrem simply stood there, glancing first at the rod in his hands, and then at the ranger to his left. _One day that cub will learn to make his own decisions._

“I am Ashrem the Feloine.” The scout barked out his name as if answering a roll call, but his voice softened as he continued. “In many ways, I agree with the idea of taking the fight to the demon. However, I do not believe that fighting the demon now is tactically sound. Demons are among the most terrible and fell of opponents, and we should not take the existence of one lightly: if we were to fight this demon, it is quite possible that some of us will be incapacitated and bedridden, much like Ander. Worse, we could be killed to a man, and the children would then be sacrificed with no hope of rescue.”

“Though I find it distasteful, I believe that our first duty is to those we promised to help. We should therefore go straight to where the children are being held, and then deal with this matter in a more strategic fashion.” Then, with military precision, the scout laid the rod in Ander’s hand.

***

“This also cost much, not many outsider weapons down here. Fewer made of iron.”  Meepo could tell that Grismth was still offended about the gloves from the hissing breaths between each word, but the dragon-keeper paid no heed to it and instead focused on the large sword the sneak pulled from the sack. The blade was taller than either kobold, but only slightly thicker than the small Wailing One’s dagger: it was truly a weapon more fitting than a carved stick for a warrior of the Lifemate’s status, despite the many small nicks and spots of rusts. _Now Dung-grubbers will fear Lifemate the sword-wielder, not shoot at the stick-basher. _

***

Ander sat for a long while, looking at the rod resting on his belly. He had set it there and brought a hand to his forehead, rubbing it as if it hurt. Theo studied him as he did: the ranger had recovered from his wounds with the aid of magical healing, but the aging cleric was unsure if the damage done to his spirit had healed as quickly. Having seen his fair share of soldiers fall in the wars, Theo knew how hard it could be for a young man to be faced with his own mortality. _He’ll be fine in time, no doubt, young men are resilient._ Finally, Ander lifted the Spark.

“I am…” the woodsman began to hack and cough uncontrollably. When his wet coughs finally subsided, he continued, “I am sure you all have been talking about this for sometime, so I hope what I’m going to say won’t be ground you already covered. As I see it, there are two choices – we can either go straight north to the mountains and save the kids, or we can go to our deaths and fight a demon. That seems to be what you two have already said.”

“But from what I’ve seen, we don’t really have a choice.” _Well, he certainly made his decision quickly, so quickly he didn’t follow the Cloud Council forms. I wonder if he was as asleep as he seemed…_ “When we were ambushed by those twig men, we beat them pretty handily, but can you imagine if we had half a dozen kids in tow? All it would take is one more ambush like that and we would lose some of them, maybe even all of them. Plus, if this demon tree keeps making more twig men, then there will be even more of them when we go back home. No, the way I see it, we have to take out this demon tree if we want to have any hope of getting those kids home.” As soon as he finished, Ander handed the rod to Aurora and laid his head back as if exhausted from his speech.

***

“These will be for the Angel, yes?” Meepo almost dropped the Lifemate’s gift when he saw the shiny jewels that Grismth now held out in his clawed hand. The two small gems sparkled as they caught the torchlight, bending the streams out at odd angles. The gazing kobold lowered the sword to the stone floor and put his hand out to receive the perfect gift. 

“They not money stones but markings make them fun. They cheap too. I win them in bone throws, knew you would like.”  Grismth proclaimed puffing his chest out in emphasis as he handed the stones to the dragon keeper. 

Meepo stared at the perfect stones, shifting them so that the light played and danced off the cut edges. After a moment’s wonderment the kobold stopped and noticed that each stone was grooved with small designs on each facing, and no two designs were the same. He also noticed that the larger of the two stones was not cut into a perfect box like the first but had more sides. Meepo could tell that the thief was right in saying that they were beautiful though not made from precious stone. He smiled knowing that Rora Angel would appreciate them even if Cal would have spit them back in his face. 

***


“I am Aurora.” Theo watched the young lady intently. As long as the priest had known the girl she had seemed as skittish as a doe, but recently she had begun to show a more, well, forceful side. He liked it; it reminded him of his wife. _I tell, you, girl, when this is all over, if that boy next to you doesn’t do something to make an honest women out of you, then I’ll beat him and then I’ll beat you for not making him!_

“I know that some of you thought, for whatever reason, that I shouldn’t have come along when we first started out. There are times I think you’re right: maybe I shouldn’t have. But I do know that if we walk past this abomination without destroying it or somehow warning Icemist of the danger they are in, then I’ll wish that I never did come along.” Aurora let steel creep into her voice as she spoke. 

“You speak of tactics, Ashrem, and I can tell you I don’t know anything about them; but I can tell you no amount of tactics will be enough to stop this demonic tree if we allow it to gather its strength or break free from its prison. Ander, you talk about saving the children and having to protect them from these things as we race home, and I agree, but I also add: what if we have no home to race to? The nearest village, Winterlocke, is a week’s march away during the height of spring, and by the time we get the children and get back, we won’t have time to flee south before the snows start should this creature have destroyed or invaded Icemist.”

“I also might remind you that these twiglings might be the cause of the Barbarian troubles. Have you forgotten the concerns that Chris the Reeve has about Festival should the problems with the missing livestock not be solved and the clans declare war on each other? Icemist depends on Festival to support it and I believe that if we defeat this abyssal tree and show proof to the clans that their livestock is safe, we can save festival as well as the children.” Aurora paused a moment and regained some of her composure.

She continued in a quieter tone. “We know the children are safe until the new moon. We also know that the demon is trapped within the tree. In my studies at the Academy in Tor, I learned that when the demons were defeated in the Great War the Veil which allows access between planes was permanently closed. This means that nothing can cross, summoned or otherwise. All the demons who were here when it happened are now stuck here, and more importantly it means that this is now their prime plane. More precisely, it means that they can be killed…permanently.”

“If this demon is trapped within the soul of the tree, then if we kill the tree, we kill the demon. Forever.”  With that, Aurora passed the Spark back to Theo.

***

“Ah, last gift here.” Grismth said as the door to the room was banged opened by two new kobolds caring a large object draped in a worn tarp. Meepo stowed the gems in his waist sack and ambled over next to the twin workers. He knew what was under the tarp but he still found himself getting excited over this last gift. It was really intended for the whole group but since he had no gift for the Thunderer, he decided to present it to him. 

Pulling hard the dragon keeper yanked the heavy oilcloth off, revealing a large sturdy wooden door. It was still a mystery why the Rora Angel and her outsiders were so interested in doors: the Soultaker was always checking and testing them. The Angel had even interrogated him about them on two separate occasions, including one where she seemed to think a door would help them beat the goblins behind the guarded wall. The Thunderer would surely be pleased by such a great outworlder status symbol! 

***

Theo absentmindedly traced the worn patterns on the Spark. “I am Theobald Hillshire of Icemist.” He said the words without thinking, more from habit than anything else, and then scanned the faces of his companions. “I have been thinking about what I should say, now that I hold the Spark. I could tell you stories about how a single demon would rip through a company of men during the Demon Wars so you could understand just how dangerous this demon could be. I could tell you about the hordes of refugees and how only one in five made it safely through demon occupied lands, the rest going to feed some demon’s belly.”

“I could tell you those things, but I’m not going to. Instead I’m going to say that I agree with Aurora.  My nephew is still back in Icemist, as is his lovely wife. Until you brought it to mind, lass, I don’t think I ever really know how much danger they could be in. Zuras strike me if I let my family die for my folly.”

“And now it is time to vote.” Theo handed the rod to his left.

“We should go to the demon tree and defeat it if we can.” The rod passed clockwise.

“Yes, to the tree.”

“Tree.”

“We destroy the tree.”

Theo accepted the rod from Aurora. “I suppose that makes it unanimous, then. This Cloud Council is now ended, and Pack’s Heroes from Icemist,” the old man favored the bard with a wink, “will destroy the demon tree underneath this sunless citadel.”

*****

Next Time!

"Let Sleeping Dragon's Lie," or "This Ain't No Sleeping Beauty!"


----------



## GreyShadow

Great stuff!

Now they really do have to defeat the demon tree.  Theo's door will need a frame. 

Cheers!


----------



## Rel

Sweet! (Oh, and sorry about the poetry )

And I really like the sound of "Pack's Heroes."

Excellent work as always.


----------



## Dawn

Yea!  An update, and a long one at that.

I like the side-bar discussion happening between Meepo and the other kobold.   Cloud Council – cool method for group discussion.  Did you physically use that with your players?


----------



## Black Bard

Great update!!! A nice twist in the original " Sunless Citadel" ...

BTW, is Meepo really going to give Aurora some *dice* ??
Are they going to play D&D on the Cloud Council??


----------



## Black Bard

Page two!!??

No way!!!


----------



## fett527

Hey everyone!  Enk, dshai527, Aurora, Bubbalicious and I had a great time at the Ohio Game Day this past Saturday.  Both Enk and dshai ran games and the rest of us played all day.  Here's a link to thread with pictures Ohio Game Day Report with pictures. 

Also, I have updated the Rogue's Gallery with a post on that beast of the North-Orloff the Bear.  Go check it out!

By the way, LiVeWiRe, are you still out there?  We had hoped to meet you at the game day.


----------



## Enkhidu

Wow, we just hit 6000 posts.

Thanks for reading, guys!


----------



## HULK

HULK lift Small Beginnings and put back on first page!  

After that HULK will read update...


----------



## Ashy

Truly magnificent!!  I loved the alternating stories, it really, really worked well as a plot vehicle!    And the story just can't be beat.  A question, however:

The the DM or the player running Theo come up with the idea for the Cloud Council - truly awesome idea!!  

And, Ashrem should have gotten the door - he's the one who likes them so much!


----------



## Enkhidu

Ashy said:
			
		

> *The the DM or the player running Theo come up with the idea for the Cloud Council - truly awesome idea!!  *




I'll field this one.

When reading Small Beginnings, it's always good to remember that this account is based on events that happened in the game. This means that sometimes (as in every now and then) things happen in slightly different orders and in slightly different ways that we played them in game. In the case of the Cloud Council, we actually did have a round robin discussion like this, where each person got their turn to speak their mind. However, we weren't quite as formal as the Cloud Council is described in the story hour. So you could say the idea came as a group creation, with the players actually doing it and the writers formalizing it.


----------



## dshai527

Yeah, what really happened had much more screaming, yelling, twizzler attacks and name calling. At one point a ninja starcrunch was even thrown and Enk's lil debbie cakes were smashed before the DM could restore order. No, wait, that was high school. 

Really it was very similar except that the circle continued over and over until Ashrem (Fett) told Ander (ENk) to call a vote. We didn't feel the need to write that much dialoge so we condensed it, and gave it a funky name. Then I smashed Enk's snacks. Aurora really did stun them all with her roleplay at this point though, she made me so proud that day. *Sniff* What more could a husband want?


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## Ashy

::chuckle::  Well, I mourn for the cakes, but I present KUDOS to players, DM, and writers for an excellent idea and presentation!


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

*"The State of the Story Hour," or "No One Reads This Line Anyway"*

Ladies and Gentlemen. The DM of Small Beginnings!

*cue applause*

Mr. Morrus, Moderator PirateCat, members of the ENWorld community, distinguished roleplayers and fellow gamers, every year, by Tyr and in costume, we post here to consider the state of the story. This year, we gather in this thread deeply aware of decisive sessions that lie ahead. 

You and I roll our dice in a time of great consequence. During this module of the Sunless Citadel, we have the duty to rescue the kidnapped children vital to our village, we have the opportunity to save dozens of lives abroad from a twigborn plague. We will work for a prosperity that is broadly shared, and we will answer every danger and every enemy that threatens the people of Icemist. 

In all these days of promise and days of reckoning, we can be confident. 

During the last two chapters we have seen what can be accomplished when we work together. 

To lift the standards of our NPCs, we achieved a historic kobold reform which must now be carried out in every clan and in every tribe so that every kobold in Aegeal can be as loved and adored as Meepo. 

To protect our village, we organized a search party, fought some rats, and are mobilizing against the threats of a new homebrew. 

To bring our party out of the dungeon, we delivered the smallest dragon in a generation. 

To insist on integrity in our Adventuring group, we put off tough skill checks, and we are holding out until next level. 

Some might call this a good campaign. I call it a good start. Tonight I ask my players and the Readers to join me in the next bold installment of Small Beginnings.  

The Player Response:


Good evening. 
I want to commend the DM for his strong yet pathetic message today, and I can assure you of this: There were two writers posting in the story hour thread, but one keyboard. Like gamers that came before us, we will pay any price and bear any burden to make sure that this proud gaming group will be the first to try the next D&D version of the 21st Century.

Today, we say to our men and women readers Thank you for your patience, your input and your sacrifice. When the story hour is fully written, your names may be listed in its proudest threads. 

[Insert rebuttal here, and don’t believe anything about Polymorph Spells, PC Death, and cute, furry animals]

As we look ahead to the future, we do so with the knowledge that we can never fully know what the men and women of the story hour will have accomplished; we can never know what will be the full measure of their lives, or what they will have contributed to the campaign world if they live. But one thing is certain: D’Shai is a Rat Bastard DM. Let us as players be up to that challenge. 

Thank you. 

Tip Of The Day: 
"When titleing a story hour post, always make sure you get to the part that made the title appropriate in the first place, or be prepared to insert 'Part 2: Electric Boogaloo'."



*****
"Let Sleeping Dragon's Lie," or "This Ain't No Sleeping Beauty!"

Part 1

Ashrem moved silently into the chamber, carefully watching the heaps of debris in the corner just as he had the last time the company had entered the room. Unlike their last visit, no movement could be seen or heard from the piles of stone. The feloine strained to hear more, but detected only the soft shuffling sounds of his companions from just beyond the doorway where he had left them.  _Destroying the Queen must have also destroyed their courage; I think we have seen the last of our rat foes._ Keeping a close eye on the rocky piles despite their inactivity, Ashrem glided toward the dragon-etched door. Reaching the stone portal, the scout removed the large iron key given to them by the kobold queen and, though he had thoroughly checked the door on their last visit, the feloine again scanned the door for triggers and trap signs –Ashrem left little to chance.

A grin crept over his face as his fingers worked meticulously at the large frame, his mind happily recalling Theo’s gift from the small kobold. The gifts were a surprise to the company: most seemed not only appropriate for their recipient, but even a bit expensive based on what the feloine had seen of the kobold community. Theo’s door, however, would have been a mystery no matter who it had come from. More perturbing than the door, though, was what came after the gift giving ceremony.

Ashrem’s smile soured as he thought about their last moments at the small festival: Yusdrayl had called for silence and then beckoned the dragon-keeper forward. When Meepo stood next to the queen she began yammering to her subjects in her high-pitched squeal of a voice. The speech went on for a good length of time with Aurora trying her best to translate, but the speech was fast paced and quite emotional. 

By the time the queen was finished with her presentation the room had grown as silent as the one in which Ashrem now stood, but within a few breaths the throng of kobolds had roared and surged toward the queen, arms raised in protest. According to Aurora it seemed Meepo was scheduled to be executed for his incompetence in the most honored post of Dragon Keeper. More importantly, it seemed that the Queen’s decision was not going over well with her subjects. While the dragon-keeper’s heroics had not won the heart of his queen, they seemed to have wooed his clan-mates. 

But it soon became apparent that the feloine had misjudged the resourcefulness of the kobold leader, for just as the kobold masses began protesting she again called for silence, shouting that she had much more to say. The kobold mass quickly quieted and waited for their leader to speak; and speak she did. 

The queen said she had pleaded with the Scorched God to spare the soul of Meepo and the Scorched God had responded. It commanded her to send the pitiful dragon-keeper with its Angel to deliver them into lands of the old master so that retribution might be repaid for the many moltings of slavery they had endured: to revisit the pain upon him in a way that only the Scorched God could, with the power of a hundred breathing dragons. It was therefore Meepo’s quest to escort the Angel and free the remaining kobold slaves or to die trying. Ashrem had known then that Yusdrayl saw Meepo as a threat to her power, and had found a convenient method of disposing of him. 

The thought of helping Meepo free even more of his scaly kin still sent a rustling chill down the feloine’s furry spine, and the fact that Ander and the others agreed to it was even more disturbing. Even after the scout pointed out that Ander was a masterful tracker, and even more effective with the help of Ashrem’s own special skills, the group had agreed that a kobold scout with knowledge below the surface would be useful. Aurora had almost bounced with glee at the announcement that Meepo would be accompanying them. 

Ashrem pulled his fingers back from the stone surface and sighed, his breath sending a puff of dust up from the surface of the aged door. He trusted Ander and knew that his friend was a good commander, but the ranger’s last decision weighed heavily on the feloine, and he knew only a watchful eye on the kobold would ease his fears about the dragon-keeper. One last sigh escaped his lips before he turned and motioned for his companions to join him. 

“The door seems free of traps or trickery, Ander. It appears the lock is all that guards this path.” Ashrem handed the key to the woodsman as he and the others surrounded the scout. 

“Okay,” the ranger replied “lets see what lies ahead. Everyone be ready - I wouldn’t put it past Yusdrayl to have a few surprises she ‘forgot’ to mention.”

Despite Ander’s lighthearted tone, Ashrem took the warning seriously and crouched down with sword drawn, ready to engage whatever lie behind the stone portal. He watched closely as the ranger inserted the oversized key into the gaping dragon maw that acted as the keyhole. The woodsman’s grunt as he turned the key and the iron squeak of rusted gears alerted the scout that the door had indeed not been opened in some time. When the metal crunching ceased, the stone slab shifted and then dropped quickly into the floor: only the lightning fast reflexes of the feloine scout saved the key before the door slipped away.

The sudden rush of stale air followed by a crashing wall of dust caused the feloine to bite back any remark he was about to make regarding the key and the predicament that they might find themselves in without it. The hacking coughs of his companions joined his as the friends were caught in the sudden whirlwind caused by the disturbance of the long untouched room. The wind soon died and the party’s light penetrated into the room in long sword-like shafts, illuminating a long room with alcove-riddled walls and a dust-covered floor. 

With his enhanced sight, Ashrem saw only one other exit through the haze: a lone door stood on the opposite wall from where he entered. With the patience of his forefathers though, the feloine waited until Ander nodded before entering the room. 

Once again the scout left behind his friends, carefully watching each step as he navigated his way into the room. Ashrem snaked his tail out in front of himself to brush aside the dust without disturbing the stones beneath so that his keen eyes could more clearly identify any markings that indicated a possible deterrent to passage. 

As the feloine neared the center point of the room, a soft white light sprang forth from his left, bathing the entire room in its glow. Ashrem found himself temporarily blinded by the sudden illumination, and the gasps behind him indicated that he was not alone. The feloine used his hands to try and shield himself, hoping that his eyes would adjust but the intensity of the glow steadily increased until the room was basked in light so bright it seemed to be noonday underground. Then he heard the music. 

It began faintly, so the feloine perked up his ears and focused on the soft melodic sound, trying to discern its direction.  Failing at that, Ashrem spun in a circle eager to pinpoint the sound, but still the music eluded him. Closing his eyes, he concentrated solely on the music, clearing out all other sound. The music began to swell: dancing in his head, filling his mind with revelry, urging him toward the light. 

Images and memories of times before the war - better times - flooded his senses, washing away his worry. Ashrem found himself drifting slowly toward the light, alone and carefree, unburdened by his past sins. _“It’s not real.”_ Aurora’s voice whispered seemingly from a great distance. _“It’s in your mind. Try not to listen. Concentrate on my voice.”_

Ashrem tried to do as Aurora pleaded, but the music rang strongly in his heart and the light’s warm waves seemed to wash away his resolve. The feloine warrior again gave in and danced toward the light seeking its warm embrace, a longing to be lost in its euphoria overtaking him. 

_“Are you all mad?”_ Aurora yelled seemingly again from a great distance. _“Look! Goblins! Snap out of it, we need you! Are you weak or just a coward too scared to fight?”_ The words struck Ashrem like a slap in the face and anger roared through his body, drowning out the solace of the warm music. Red with rage, the feloine spun around to bring his weapon to bear on his unseen foes. 

Only when he saw the slightly swaying forms of Ander and Theo staring blankly at a small glowing sphere did he realize the truth of his situation. He noticed a slight smile Aurora’s face before she turned and began shouting to the others, trying to break the eerie spell of the glowing orb. 

Ashrem felt his anger subside, but slowly the song began building in his head again, and the scout knew he had no defense for the soothing voice of the sphere: not when his past sins weighed so heavily upon him. The feloine tried to rechannel his anger to block out the sound when a pair of small hands grabbed him and pulled him back. 

“I told you it would work. Talk to me, Ashrem! You have to keep talking! You have to try and fight it! C’mon Ash, talk!” Pack implored, a look of fear on the small halfling’s face. 

“About what?” Ashrem remarked utterly confused.

“Anything, Anything at all to keep your mind off that thing.”

“What is that thing? What is it doing to us?” he answered at a loss for any other topic of conversation. 

“It’s a Sphere of Sorrows,” the halfling replied. “Ages ago, when a person died, friends and family would pass on their grief to a Sphere. Then the Sphere would be buried with the deceased so that the living could move on. But sometimes the sorrow was so great that the Spheres took on a life of their own. When that happened, the Sphere could get mean. If you hadn’t snapped out of it, you would have stood there until the Sphere had drained you of all emotion, transforming you into some sort of zombie.” 

Ashrem could feel his anger returning, this time aimed at his own shortcomings. Still, Pack continued and the feloine knew that is was just to keep their minds off the silent song. “Aurora says that she is able to resist because of the special training she received from the Academy, and that Meepo and me aren’t affected because we don’t have anything to be sad about - well none till the Sphere trapped you guys.” 

The mention of the kobold’s name made the Feloine scan the room quickly in an attempt to locate it. As if reading his mind, Pack continued. “He’s in the other room. Aurora sent us out when she realized what it was. I only came back in to help you.”

“Well, I am fine now. So let us end this charade now, shall we?” Full of cold rage, the feloine turned his blade back toward the glowing orb. 

“NO!” Pack grabbed onto his leg. “It’s too dangerous - we can’t destroy it, not until the others are safe.” 

Not willing to admit defeat and watch his friends turn into mindless creatures, Ashrem stalked defiantly forward dragging the halfling with him. When he neared the globe, the feloine sheathed his blade while his anger drowned out the sweet song of the Sphere. Behind him, he could barely hear Aurora’s heartfelt pleadings to Theo and Ander. The scout disengaged the small bard from his leg and at the same time unshouldered his backpack. 

Pack seemed to sense his intentions, having personally seen the extraordinary abilities of the magic sack, and backed away, leaving the feloine to carry out his plan. With a deep breath the feloine warrior used the pack to scoop up the glowing sphere, sending it into the mystical space inside the dimensional bag.

Ashrem clasped his hands tightly around the bag to close it, trapping the orb and its eerie light inside while the soft lullaby in his head disappeared. The feline immediately looked up and saw Ander and Theo shaking their heads as they emerged from the Sphere’s effects. Both men seemed equally distressed as Pack and Aurora explained what had happened, and Ashrem empathized knowing what it had felt like to have his burden released only to have it fall back to his shoulders. _It appears I am not the only one who carries an anchor of guilt around his soul._ Fighting the urge to wallow in guilt, the feloine moved away from his friends and began investigating the hallway that led from the room. 

Ashrem felt his fur prickle as he examined the squat hallway. Taking to heart what Pack had said, the feloine now knew that they were in a tomb of sorts, and more often than not tombs were guarded, trapped, or both. Narrowing his eyes, the scout looked closely for indications of the trap or triggering mechanism that he knew must be present, for the hallway served no purpose other than joining two rooms. 

A cleverly hidden hole, barely noticeable to even his keen eyes, finally alerted the feloine that an arrow trap was set within the walls, one set of slots on each side. Now aware of what he was up against, Ashrem reached for his toolkit within the folds of his pack. A shaft of light burst from the bag as he began to open it, causing the scout to quickly pull it shut again. 

With a low growl, Ashrem once again opened the bag, but this time the opening was only large enough for his hand to slide into. Small strands of the light blinked around his arm unable to find any space between the pack’s folds and his wrist until at last he pulled his toolkit out from within. 

Holding his toolkit tightly, the feloine knew that he would have to get rid of the Sorrow Sphere quickly. He relied heavily on the ability to draw what he needed out of the magical sack at a moments notice. Ashrem knew that a quick jaunt out to the deep crevice surrounding the citadel would alleviate his problem, but something tore at his heart from deep within. _You were born of the sorrow that someone had for what is buried within this tomb, therefore it is only fitting that I somehow find a way to keep you here, with your beloved._ His conscience sated, the feloine set about trying to disarm the trap within the small archway.

His nimble fingers worked at the cobblestone floor, where he found the triggers, set under each brick. It was soon apparent to the scout that each trigger was linked to the next and disabling one would trigger the next in line: overall a very masterful setup. Knowing that he couldn’t disable the triggers below, he began to look for the tie lines between the triggers and the actual trap. It didn’t take long before he recognized the tie lines, but as it was designed, they were too far and too high into the hallway to disable from where he stood.   

“It is trapped,” The feloine remarked as he heard the familiar footpads of Ander move up behind him, “and would take far too long to disable. We are better off trying to jump it.”

“What kind of trap is it?” The woodsman replied eyeing the hallway himself. 

Ashrem was about to reply when the strange scent of brimstone caught his nose. 

The feloine drew Razor at the horribly familiar odor. “Demons!” 


*****


Next Time!

"Let Sleeping Dragon's Lie," or "This Ain't No Sleeping Beauty!" - Part 2: Electric Boogaloo


----------



## Rel

Sweet!  You just know the next installment is going to be good when the last word of the current one is "Demons!"

Or "Boogaloo", depending on how you count such things.


----------



## Black Bard

I really liked the concept of the _Sphere of Sorrows_ . Quite interesting!!!
Despite the long hiatus ( a shame... ), this story hour is one of the best in ENworld!!

Oh, and I'm with Rel... Demons!!!


----------



## fett527

ORLOFF, ORLOFF, ORLOFF!!

DEMONS, DEMONS, DEMONS!!!

You guys just want us to die don't you?!?!?


----------



## Rel

fett527 said:
			
		

> *You guys just want us to die don't you?!?!? *




No, no, no!

Well...maybe just a couple of you.  But only at the most dramatic of moments.  Certainly not at the hands of goblins.

Bugbears maybe.  Or a beholder.  That'd be cool.


----------



## Enkhidu

Rel said:
			
		

> *
> 
> No, no, no!
> 
> Well...maybe just a couple of you.  But only at the most dramatic of moments.  Certainly not at the hands of goblins.
> 
> Bugbears maybe.  Or a beholder.  That'd be cool.
> 
> *




Then Rel should be happy when,

well, now that would be telling...


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

*"Let Sleeping Dragon's Lie," or "This Ain't No Sleeping Beauty!" - Part 2*

OK, Sean Connery, that's obvious.

Keanu Reeves. 

What? there's no way... wait that would work. Dangit. Reese Witherspoon?

Mark Hamill. 

As who?

A computer generated Meepo. 

I can see that. Oh - hi there! D'Shai and I are just mulling over who would play who if Small Beginnings ever got opted for a movie (yeah, right). Who was that guy who played Mr. Belvedere?

Or maybe that guy who played Alfred in the Batman movies. 

First, Beyond or Forever?

Its the same guy in all of them, isn't it? 

I have no idea.

How about Michael Keaton. 'I'm Batman, I mean Ashrem.' 

Doable. What do you think the readers would come up with?

I'm willing to give away some of your dice to find out. Hear that? It's contest time. The person that posts up a list of actors/characters that a) impresses me, b) makes me laugh, or c) makes fun of Enk gets a set of dice picked from Enk's dice bag. 

Why my dice bag?

Because my dice actually _like_ me. 

At least its not a haiku contest. Oh, and I reserve the right to pick the dice myself (though D'Shai still splits shipping costs, dangit). The winner should expect to get a full set - 2 d20s, a d12, percentile d10s, a d8, 4 d6s, and a d4. Oh, and they won't match.

And any entry including Jean Claude Van Damme will be immediately disqualified. Bonus points if you can work Patrick Swayze into it. Double points if the actor ever starred in a John Carpenter movie. 

Just to the Tip of the Day.

Tip O the Day: Sometimes an artist must create a word to properly name a third installment of a one part post." 

And there you have it. A letter opener.

*****

"Let Sleeping Dragon's Lie," or "This Ain't No Sleeping Beauty!" - Part 2: Electric Boogaloo

“Demons!”

Ashrem voice sent a chill throughout the dank room, and Ander could almost feel the feloine’s hatred from his icy tone. The woodsman answered his friend by assuming a combat stance with his staff out before him, and watched as the rest of the small party did likewise. 

“Where?” Theo growled, the fire in his voice more than a match for Ashrem’s cold hate. 

“I’m not sure, but I can smell it.” The scout sniffed at the air, and before Ander could ask anything more, the feloine jumped through the squat hallway, landing perfectly on the other side. The woodsman pulled back and was about to leap over and join him when Theo rushed by his side with his flail ready. 

“Theo, wait!” he tried to yell but the cleric pushed ahead too quickly and rushed into the hallway in his attempt to stay with the feline scout. Heavy arrows shot from both sides of the wall the moment the priest’s heavy boots touched down onto the patched cobblestone, both missiles punching through the cleric’s chain shirt and sinking deeply into his shoulders. Ander cringed as Theo lurched forward into the next chamber, where he crumpled down to stain the floor with fresh blood. 

Ander easily propelled himself through the short hallway with an enchanted spring of Icemantle’s boots and landed next to the fallen priest. He could already hear the mechanical crank of the winding mechanism reloading the trap as he bent over to examine Theo. Before the ranger could place a hand on his companion, Theo sat up and groaned. “You youngsters have me feeling so young, I’m even starting to make mistakes like someone half my age.”

Ander frowned at the priest. “It was my fault. I should have warned you. Ash told me it was trapped.”

“Just pull the shafts out, Ander, I’ll be fine. The priests of Zuras are made of tougher stuff than that. Besides, the arrows only barely penetrated my armor and pads. Tis nothing more than a scratch.” Theo grinned as if he didn’t have a care in the world, and the woodsman began to work the arrows free from the chain suit. The first shaft pulled quickly and cleanly, and the young man saw only the tip was touched in blood, but the second one needed more force to come free and brought a small fountain of blood with it, causing Theo to grunt in pain and nearly swoon. Ander righted the priest, who then softly began chanting, once again calling upon the might of his lord. 

Ander watched, fascinated, as the wound begin to close until Aurora’s call startled him. “Meepo, stay there! Ander, help!”

The woodsman turned to see that Aurora had leapt the hallway and Meepo was now running to come join her. Knowing that there was nothing he could do, Ander watched through half closed eyes as the small kobold, who seemed oblivious to any danger, padded his way straight through the hallway, his eyes never leaving the young sorceress. Arrows sprang from the wall and shattered against the flagstones sailing a full King’s Hand over his horned head.

“It’s obvious that whoever designed this place didn’t think about keeping halflings and kobolds out.” Pack remarked as he capered through the hallway following Meepo’s course. Ander could only shake his head at Pack’s smile as the arrows sailed over the bard’s cap-laden head. 

“I guess that means you go first from here on out.” Theo said as he took the woodsman’s outstretched hand and lifted himself off the ground. Ander watched as Pack’s smile faded. 

“Theo’s right, Pack. If these traps aren’t dangerous for you, you should probably lead the way.” Ander just barely contained himself as he spoke.

“But…” Pack’s bottom lip was beginning to quiver.

“Don’t worry, lad, it’s not like we’ll let anything eat you.

“Eat me?” The halfling looked as if was ready to cry.

Ander couldn’t hold it any longer and began laughing: he snickered at first, until Theo let out a deep guffaw. Before long, the two warriors, young and old, leaned on each other for support as they laughed long and hard. Then Pack began chuckling as well as realization crept over him. Aurora joined in as well.

They laughed long and hard, if quietly, and Ander felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Everything that had come on their journey had been horrible – the news that the children were to be sacrificed, his hazy, dragon laden flight from the goblins, the Sphere…

That last was the worst.

_I really needed this_, he thought. _We all did._

Suddenly, Ashrem let out a warning growl and quieted the group; in unison they turned to face the feloine, once again concentrating on the task at hand. The scout stood next to another stone slab door, tracing its strange runes and outlines with his claws. “The demon, and I believe there is only one from the smell of it, lies on the other side of this door, but I cannot find any mechanism for opening it, nor can I tell what these markings might mean.”

Ander paused to consider the situation. The woodsman had never encountered a demon before, but his childhood had been filled with tales of the demon wars and the nightmarish creatures that they were. Still, he stood next to two experienced warriors, both of which had been involved in that holocaust and had personally fought the abominations. “Ash, Theo, do you think we should go on? I mean, if the demon is trapped, couldn’t we be helping it to escape? Are we gathering more wood than we can burn?”

The room grew deathly silent. It seemed to the woodsman that each warrior wrestled with their own demons, reflecting on some inner turmoil before offering an answer to Ander’s question. He looked to each of his companions: even Pack stood by silently, fidgeting to himself yet lost in thought just as the others were. Aurora, who was examining strange runes on the dragon covered door, was the only one not deep in contemplation.

“Ander, I cannot speak for Theo, though he did fight in the war, but I sometimes forget that so much time has past since the war and that you grew up with only stories and tales of the evil that these creatures carry with them. I have seen this evil with my own eyes and I bear the scars of their evil - both on my face and in my spirit. I tell you now that I cannot and will not walk away from one as long as the means to dispose of it are within my power. I have watched each of you fight over the last few days and I would gladly stand by your side to cut this demon down.”

“By Zuras with a lightning strike!” Theo echoed as Pack puffed his chest and pulled a dagger.

“Stars!” Aurora’s exclamation confused the woodsman, and it appeared his fellows as well, as they all turned to face the sorceress. 

“Stars?” The woodsman stared at the sorceress trying to make some sense of the single word.   

“Yes, stars. That was the answer to this riddle. See? The door is opening.” As the sorceress answered the graven door behind her glowed, outlining symbols etched in some strange language. The loud grinding of stone on stone emphasized her answer. 

Immediately realizing their danger, Ander rushed forward to block the doorway before anything could get out. His new sword held before him, the woodsman peered into the new room, scanning for any signs of its inhabitant. Only small clouds of settling dust and a cool breeze awaited him though as Ashrem pulled up behind him. “I don’t see anything Ash.”

“There is a pit on the far side of the room and the stench of devil-kin is unmistakable. Be ready.” Ander felt Ashrem’s hand on his shoulder and in unison the pair moved into the new chamber, angling forward until they stood back to back scanning the room. 

Ander could now see the large pit Ashrem had mentioned. It separated the chamber from another, and beyond the pit he could see a light source flickering down a passage. The ranger, however, did not see any evidence that anything inhabited this room: something as simple as a footprint or drag mark should have shown deeply in the thick layers of dust that coated the floor, even in the flickering light from Pack’s torch and Aurora’s light. He was not, however, about to discard Ashrem’s feline senses in favor of his own unsure tracking skill over this stone and mortar. 

Theo’s pained cry, followed by a high-pitched giggling laugh, jolted the two warriors into a run back towards the riddle room. There the ranger saw a nightmare come to life: it wasn’t that it looked all that fearsome – it was no larger than the family cat, Aris – but it’s red skin, barbed tail, wings, and claws did nothing to hide the palpable evil Ander felt wash over him as he neared it.

“I’m free! I’m free!” it cackled as it danced in the air above Theo. The beast turned to face the pair as they barreled into the chamber, “More presents for me? How nice to have a feast before I again roam the sun-side of this little world!” 

Ander moved forward trying to divert the scorpion-tailed creature’s attention away from Theo, who was trying unsuccessfully to stand back up. The woodsman could see a large welt growing on the priest’s neck and he knew that his friend was poisoned and needed attention immediately. 

Springing forward, the woodsman reached out and brought his sword across his body with both hands, striking the beast soundly on its left wing. The creature spun in a complete circle in the air, whooping and cackling with glee, but otherwise unharmed. It’s like striking stone! Then the creature slowly turned to smile directly at the young woodsman, sending a chill down the young man’s spine at the sight of the long barbed tail whipping to and fro.  

Ander did a dance of his own; as the tail snaked forward missing his own neck by a cat’s whisker. The beast was poised for a second strike when Ander heard Aurora’s familiar cry. Azure dragons flew directly at the tiny devil but dissipated in a puff of smoke before contacting the creature’s leathery hide.  

Aurora’s display brought on another burst of laughter from the flying devil, which ended only when Ashrem’s voice cut it off. The feloine spoke in a strange tongue that seemed harsh and out of place coming from his normally cultured pipes. 

“Careful, mortal, or your pathetic attempt at the True Tongue might not have the effect you desire…”  The imp turned its attention solely on the feloine, as Ander seized the cue to yank Theo over toward Aurora and Pack.  

“The only thing I desire is your destruction.” The feloine replied as he loaded his crossbow.

“Your toys mean nothing to one conceived in the Realm of Pain. You have one shot, mortal, and then I shall laugh as I poke your eyes out and feast on your innards while you still live.”

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. 

*****

Next Time

"Let Sleeping Dragon's Lie," or "This Ain't No Sleeping Beauty!" - Part 3: Electric Booga...lee?


----------



## Ashy

Now THAT is the way to DM a fiend!    Bravo!!  Excellent job!!    Oh, and BTW, I LOVED this bit:

"Are we gathering more wood than we can burn?"

That is TOTALLY an euphamism that a ranger would use - BRAVO again!


----------



## Enkhidu

By the way, I should say that the dice contest will run until the end of Feb 27, 2003! See above for details.


----------



## Badger

*Casting Call*

Well, as the gauntlet was thrown down to see who would accept the challange, I had to give it a whirl. While I know I kept it pretty modern with the exception of using "young" Jamie Lee vice present, I will try to work on the "dream" cast going through all time. Can you say John Wayne as Theo...

Hope you all enjoy...

Badger


Ashrem - Tim Roth (Very intense actor in everything he plays. Plus we know he can do body suits, just look at Planet of the Apes)

Ander- Colin Farrell (Gritty looking guy, but carries the you want to root for him look at the same time. Perfect for a leader who doesn't want to lead.)

Theo- Ray Liotta (Narc sorta chunky Ray vice normal skinner Ray. Also, if anyone can pull off a crusty battle priest, this is the guy. Calling to Zuras with a slightly glazed look in his eyes just screams Ray.)

Pack- Verne Troyer (Who else but the amazing Mini-Me could pull off the lovable bard? Plus he is already a natural at stunts, so pulling off the Pack flee could be pretty comical and real.)

Aurora- Jamie Lee Curtis (Halloween Jamie Lee, and btw John Carpenter bonus points!!!!! Plus she just rocks at anything she plays in.)

Worm- WWE "Superstar" Batista (While I know jack beans about wrestling, I know the greatest contrast between Worm and Pack are their size. At 6'5 Batista is a big boy, and if you look at his pic on the WWE Raw page, he already looks like he is part half-orc. With a little coaching, perhaps the brutish wrestler can bring the other elements Worm has as well.

Meepo- John Leguizamo (Great actor/comedian, whose voice over talents also include Sid the Sloth from Ice Age.)


----------



## fett527

Just a quick post that I have put a word about how we deal with crits and fumbles in the Rogue's Gallery.  It explains what happened with Ashrem's destruction of the demon.


----------



## fett527

*fett527's picks for actors*

I thought I'd throw my hat in the ring for the dice competition.  Of course with my valuable insight into these characters I will be ineligible to actually win, but it's only fair.

Ashrem- Brian Krause-that actor from Stephen King’s Sleepwalkers at least he’s had experience looking like a cat person.

Ander- Tony Shalhoub- Ander may not have as many quirks as Adrian Monk, but he’s got enough for this adventuring party

Aurora- Nicole Kidman- with her flaming red hair.  Not blonde, no freaking Virginia Wolf make up.  Nicole Kidman, nude…I mean with her red hair.  (This is mainly so I can see Nicole in another movie…nude...with red hair)

Pack- The Rock- remember John-Rhys Davies plays Gimli through the wonders of technology and he’s a big man.  I think The Rock would bring out the subtle agressivenes that’s in Pack.  Plus who wouldn't want to hear: The Pack is in the HOUSSSSE!

Theo- SEAN CONNERY PEOPLE, COME ON!!!  Theo screams venerable Scottish actor!  I can hear him now…”I’d like Anal Bum Cover for $100 Alex.”

Worm-  HULK, hands down.  Maybe a little overkill on the strength, but we can get past that.

So as you can see you should all be glad I am ineligible to win or I know I'd have some new dice!


----------



## Rel

Alright, I've given it some thought and I'm ready to weigh in with my actor selections for Small Beginnings:  The Movie.

Ashrem - I'd like to see Jet Li in this role.  He's got the grace and the speed.  He's a man of few words.  And I just envision Ashrem's fighting style to be almost martial-arts oriented, with the claws and everything.

Ander - I'm thinking Hugh Jackman.  I think he is the right age and he can play tough guy (which Ander certainly is some of the time) as well as being a good enough actor to pull off the "Uncertain Leader" role too.

Aurora - Kirsten Dunst pops to mind.  She looks great as a redhead and has a magnetic presence (suitable for Aurora's high Charisma).  I also think that Kirsten would be able to portray the tenderness she has shown toward Meepo.

Pack - Not to steal Badger's idea, but I'd like to see John Leguizamo in this role (sized down using "Hobbit Technology" instead of as Meepo (but I think he'd be a good choice for that role too).  John is an amazingly versitile actor and Bards tend to be a versitile class.  He can also sing very well and pull off the "a little annoying, but you've got to love him anyway" bit when Pack gets talking.

Theo - Sean Connery of course springs to mind, but in this case, I'm leaning more toward our good buddy, John-Rhys Davies.  These days, I can't help but put Sean more and more into a sort of "Elder Statesman" sort of role and this part will require a lot of martial ability.

Worm - I'd love to see Michael Clarke Duncan in the role of Worm.  He's got that whole "I don't want to hurt nobody, but if you threaten my family and friends then I'M A 40 OZ. CAN OF WHOOPASS WAITIN' TO EXPLODE!!" thing going on.

Meepo - Meepo needs to be done as a CG character (computer generated, not chaotic good).  And his voice would be done by none other than Andy Serkis.  Who you may ask is Andy Serkis?  He does the voice of Gollum in LotR.

A few more of the less central characters would be:

Lizon - Sela Ward.  Mmmm, Sela Ward.  I frequently find myself just saying the name Sela Ward because, well, she's a goddess and I'd gladly drink her bathwater.  But in this case I'm saying Sela Ward because I think she would be great for this role.  Beautiful, eyes full of kindness (mixed with sadness) and just a hint that she used to kick some butt.  Mmmm, Sela Ward.

And of course...

Onkus the Cooper - I've just got this gut feeling that I'd like to see Pete Postlethwaite in this role.  Pete is probably best known by many as Mr. Kobayashi from The Usual Suspects but you also might know him as the hunter, "Roland Tembo" from The Lost World: Jurasic Park.  Casting Mr. Postlewaithe in this role would be perfect because it captures the character (as I see him) perfectly:  A minor part, but FULL of depth.


So, there you have my picks.  If you don't like them, just say out loud, "Sela Ward, Sela Ward, Sela Ward."  You'll feel better after that.


----------



## Badger

*A sized down John...*

To see a picture of John's size as casted by Rel, watch Mulon Rouge (sp?), and you will see him there as a pint sized thespian bar none...

Badger 

"Remember, the hand that you shake today, will stick the dagger in your back tomorrow."


----------



## Bubbalicious

*Movie Cast*

You guys are missing the boat here!!!
Although there are four non-John Carpenter actors, I have secondary J.C. connected actors as backups.

Ander - Kurt Russell (Need I say more?!?!), if he's unavailable, then James Woods.

Ashrem - (1st non-J.C.) John Partridge (who played Rum Tum Tugger in Cats on Broadway) with J.C. backups Peter Fonda and Mark Hamill.

Theo - Jurgen Prochnow, if he's too drunk, Roddy Piper!!!

Aurora - (2nd non-J.C.) Alicia Witt (only the most amazingly hot redhead in hollywood- played Cybil Sheperd's daughter on "Cybil", starred in Urban Legend, and for other bonus points, was Paul Atreides little sister Alia in Dune) her J.C. backup is Natasha Henstridge (have to dye her hair red, but she always gets nekkid!!!)

Pack - (3rd non-J.C.) D.J. Styles (the really scrawny kid from Road Trip) you have to remember that Pack is very scrawny and weak (6 STR), J.C. backups are Steve Buscemi and Ed Begley Jr.

Worm - Pam Grier (because nobody kicks butt like Pam Grier!!) If you can't get over the fact that she's a woman, then Isaac Hayes.

Meepo - (4th and final non-J.C. entrant) voice for CGI character by Kevin McDonald (Kids In The Hall, he now plays Pastor Dave on That 70's Show) he did a great squeaky-geeky alien voice in Lilo and Stitch, his J.C. backup would be Robert Carradine of Revenge of The Nerds fame.

Lizon - Jamie Lee Curtis (or Kelly Preston if we can get her Nekkid!)

Onkus - Ernest Borgnine or Tom Arnold

Durnan - Harry Dean Stanton or Tom Arnold

Chris, the town Reeve - Christopher Reeve (or David Naughton if you need him to stand) or Tom Arnold

Yusdrayl - Kirstie Alley or Tom Arnold (hey!! he needs some work!!)

The Rat Queen - Adrienne Barbeau

There you have it! An entire cast can certainly be made from actors directed by John Carpenter!  Plus, on an inside tip...there are some upcoming characters that I will give very vague descriptions of:  1st- a guy we will shortly run into for the first of many times will be played either by Michael Pare or Stacey Keach, and the woman in Tor that Pack falls in love with will be played by Valeria Golino.  More J.C. bonus points for me!!! (too bad I'm not eligible 'cause I'd have just stomped all your keisters!!)


----------



## LiVeWiRe

Hello all you SB SH folks!

Man, do I have ALOT of reading to do!  And, I also have to figure out who to cast as the characters!  

I apologize for my absence over the past couple of months...got a 'promotion' at work and didn't realize that there would be SO MUCH travel, additional work, more work, etc. etc. involved with it.

But, I think I'm finally 'settling in' and am ready to start posting again! 

I know that HULK won't be happy...the 'thorn in his side' has returned!  

Guaranteed more to come once I get updated...

It's good to be back--I missed being around here!


----------



## LiVeWiRe

*Thanks!*



			
				fett527 said:
			
		

> *Hey everyone!  Enk, dshai527, Aurora, Bubbalicious and I had a great time at the Ohio Game Day this past Saturday.  Both Enk and dshai ran games and the rest of us played all day.
> 
> By the way, LiVeWiRe, are you still out there?  We had hoped to meet you at the game day. *




Hey fett! 

Thanks for asking about me!  (See my previous post for reasons for my absence)

I ABSOLUTELY HATE that I missed out on the Ohio GameDay!  I checked out the pics, Crothian's Story Hour, and read the comments from the various attenders...sounds like you guys had a BLAST!   

Despite my absence, I'm STILL Ashrem's #1 fan!  

_*Now, who would play Ash in a movie....????*_


----------



## fett527

*Welcome back LiVeWiRe!*

Congratulations on your promotion!


----------



## Dawn

Yes!  I come back and there are two updates!

Great posting guys.  Question, how did Ashrem come to have those arrows in his possession?  Were they a choice during the equipping phase of the character creation?  Handy no matter.


----------



## fett527

> 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.




All will be revealed in time.  Suffice it to say at this time that Ashrem being equipped with the bolts was a part of his character history before we started the campaign.


----------



## Black Bard

A nice battle indeed... But, sadly for our little demon buddy, it was rather short... It was nothing like a great day for freedom... 

The cast...That will be tough..._But first I must see Burning Saddles...Maybe I could use some of the actors then..._


----------



## fett527

_Blazing Saddles_


----------



## Black Bard

*Saddles...*

Err..._Burning Saddles_  is just *another*  movie...Yeah, that's it!!! Another movie!! From John Carpenter!!! No?? Ok, I quit...


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

*"Let Sleeping Dragon's Lie," or "This Ain't No Sleeping Beauty!" - Part 3*


Colt 45
Tomato Sauce
Ground Beef
WonderBread
Handi-Snacks
Chocolate Twizzlers
$240 Worth a Puddin'
Kethcup
Triscuits
Aluminum Foil (in case of werewolves)
Cheetos
Oreos
Frozen Pizzas
Pizza Rolls
Cabbage Rolls
Dinner Rolls
Fruity Pebbles
Pickles
Moose-Tracks Ice Cream
Catsup
Five
Eggs
Milk (2%)
Chocolate Milk
Tip of the day (never forget your grocery list)
Apple Juice
Orange Juice
Orange Julius
Crispy Creme Donuts
Po. Tay. Toes.
Lima Beans
Spaghettios
Macaroni and Cheese (whatever is on sale)
Rumplemintz
Boone's Strawberry Hill
Little Debbies Snack Cakes 

Remember, only 17 days left until the contest is over - get your entries in soon!

*****

"Let Sleeping Dragon's Lie," or "This Ain't No Sleeping Beauty!" - Part 3: Electric Booga...lee?

It hadn’t taken long for Ander to attach a pair of ropes on the far side of the pit; he had simply used his magic boots to jump across and give the all-clear signal. It was, however, taking Pack a long time to work up the nerve to use the rope bridge they had hastily built. 

It wasn’t that the bard was afraid of falling – quite the contrary, Pack considered himself an excellent climber – what scared him was what they might meet on the other side. _What if there are more of those demons? I mean devils – Aurora said their actually called devils, or at least that type of thing is. _

Pack watched as his companions crossed the rope bridge into the chamber beyond, and how the light on the other side gave them all a sickly hue. Theo might have needed to look green, after all, he was still suffering from whatever poison the devilish imp had carried, but it just made the others look creepy. As he watched them search the unseen corners of the room, he imagined them being ambushed by more of the red skinned demons, _no devils, they’re devils_. Then he imagined himself being attacked by the imps.

Moments later he stood in the green glow of the chamber beyond the pit, surrounded by his companions. The bard took a moment to take in his surroundings, oblivious to the fact that everyone else seemed deep in discussion. 

The room itself was plain, but the green-flamed torch that burned in a sconce cast eerie shadows across the walls making the room appear more sinister than Pack knew it actually was. The only object in the room, other than the bard and his friends, was a large sarcophagus, intricately designed using gold inlays to depict a great battle between humans and a sky full of fire breathing dragons wrapping around the stone coffin. Although he couldn’t see the top, the young bard knew it must be a magnificent piece of work: a giant replica of a dragon’s head curved over the lid as if keeping watch over its inhabitant for all time and gold plated claws latched the lid closed onto the pedestal body.  

Pack stared at the beautiful artwork and let his hands trace the patterns as his imagination conjured up stories of the epic battles waged in gold and granite before him.  Knights spun round on their armored chargers lowering their lances to charge brimstone-wreathed dragons as they reared up towards the sky in preparation to release fiery death. The scene played over and over in his head creating a kaleidoscope of heroes, villains, and damsels in distress and as such it went almost unnoticed to the bard that Ashrem and Ander had begun unlatching the great clawed clasps. 

“What are you doing?” Pack sputtered as he regained his composure. 

“We’ve found a light breeze coming from a crack in the sarcophagus, so we think that the passage leading under the goblins starts here.” Ander said as he unlatched the final claw and assumed a position opposite Theo and Ashrem to lift the giant lid. 

“But…” The halfling floundered, somewhat at a loss for words, and silently watched as the large warriors lifted the stone top.

“I agree Pack.” Aurora said and Pack felt a comforting hand pat his head pushing his cap down over his eyes in a playful gesture. “But we have come too far to turn back now and Theo has agreed to perform burial rites again if needed.” 

“Okay lads… lean it on the lip… that’ll make it easier to put back up if we need to.” Theo grunted through gritted teeth as the three labored to move the heavy lid off the coffin. They finally angled it so that the top of the lid rested against the side of the sarcophagus like a makeshift ramp. The stone lid fell with a final thud and the group stepped back trying to regain their breath. 

“Whew, that was much heavier than it looked. Well, let’s see what we got.”

“Wait!” Pack yelled, jumping between Ander and the stone casket. “Don’t touch anything! I think these pictures on the lid are really words! I couldn’t see them when it was still on top but now that I see them I think they say something! See! See! The sun means life and..” 

Pack could feel his heart racing as he recognized the symbols from a scroll of ancient writings he had come across while studying with Sir Thadius. His mentor had informed the young bard that such pictograms were used by cults and churches in a time before writing became common; each sect would have vastly different meanings for similar symbols. Even now, a few shadowy organizations used it as a form of code. 

“I think it says that this is a priest that was buried alive for breaking the code or law of this church, but he is still held in honor,” Pack stated as he traced the symbols one more time to make sure that he understood their meaning.

“Like Meepo being sentenced to death even though he was honored for his bravery?” Pack could only shrug at the sorceress’ question, though the similarity between the story written in pictures before him and the laws of the kobold clan did seem to have similarities.  _Nothing is lost in history, which cannot be regained,_ he reminded himself before turning away from the runes. 

A sudden gasp erupted from the open sarcophagus, as if lungs were breathing air for the first time after being trapped underwater, and Pack shrieked as the coffin’s occupant sat up and opened its eyes, staring straight at the young bard. The halfling cringed and backed away at the sight of the monster, whose wild eyes and heavy grunts alerted the bard that the beast before him was still alive and not some undead abomination. 

Long white hair hid the creature’s features, but Pack could tell that it was once human; though now its face was locked in a permanent grimace of pain and putrid sores covered its body. The monster’s hands were misshapen, almost as if they had been broken only to be healed and broken again and again until the fingers were crooked and elongated with nails that curved down to end in points sharpened by constant scraping. 

Ander was the first of the group to react by bringing his quarterstaff across hard against the creatures face, snapping its head back in a gush of blood. Ashrem followed with a backhand swipe that brought his sword around from scabbard to swing in a lightning fast motion that laid open the soft flesh in the creature’s neck. 

With an enraged growl the mutant priest vaulted from the coffin, nearly landing on the halfling. Pack scurried further into the corner, his eyes never leaving the fearsome thing that roared above him. The creature stopped and stood, pulling itself to its full height; from his position, Pack could hear the sickening snaps as bones and muscles cracked and popped into place. When the monster finished stretching, it stood with its head nearly scraping the ceiling, its longs arms keeping everyone in the room within reach of its massive claws. 

For a moment everyone in the room froze as the creature pulled its hands before its face, almost as if it was seeing itself for the first time: briefly the bard saw confusion in the monster’s face. Pack pitied the creature and he wondered what the priest had done to deserve such a horrible fate. The creature took a confused step forward like he was lost and searching for answers, but then Pack saw its eyes fix on Theo and a burning anger returned to its gray orbs. 

“Ooohh Buuuuurrrrd Mueeee!” the mutant groaned. Pack noticed that the large gash Ashrem had opened in its neck was no longer there, nor was the creature’s nose bleeding anymore. 

“Oooouuu Buuuurrriiiddd Meeee!” it screamed again; this time its howls sounded more like words than its previous guttural growls. 

“Theo, it thinks you’re the priest that buried it alive!” Pack yelled finally piecing the creature’s words together, but the halfling knew that his words were lost in the mutant priest’s roar as it charged the clueless cleric. The halfling could only watch helplessly as the beast bore down on his friend. 

Theo deflected the creature’s first blow with his shield; however, the sheer power of the strike combined with the priest’s weakened state due to the Imp’s poisons drove him right into the mutant’s second strike which ripped through his chain shirt and pinned him against the wall. Only Aurora’s magical missiles saved Theo as the blue darts blazed into the creature’s chest, the pain from the barrage causing it to lose its hold. Ander and Ashrem seized the opening and began a frontal assault on the large foe that drove it back away from the bleeding cleric. 

Pack bit his lip. He knew that if he didn’t get to Theo soon the aged cleric would die, but he also knew that in order to get to Theo he would have to rush right through the fight. With a quick breath, he rushed forward to help his friend.  

The halfling ducked and weaved through the tangle of legs as man, feloine, and beast fought in a deadly circle just above his knitted cap. Pack scurried forward when he spied an opening, made when Meepo joined the fray by leaping from the makeshift ramp with his spear outstretched. The shaft plunged into the creature’s back while the kobold yelled at the top of his lungs. “Meepo Missile!”  

The opening was short lived: just when Pack thought he was clear, the halfling felt a stinging pain in his side that bowled him over and sent him sprawling back towards the sarcophagus. Using his momentum, Pack managed to roll underneath the lid that Meepo had used for his launching point. From there, the bard watched as the trio of Meepo, Ash and Ander pounded on the mutant priest while Aurora sent her magical bolts streaking between them. 

Pack could feel blood running down his leg and he knew that he was hurt badly, but not as badly as Theo. The battle still raged before him, but now more legs and feet were added in as Meepo applied his poking and prodding spear to the mix of swords thrusts, claw swipes, and staff blows. The display made the whole scene seem more like an intricate dance than a full-blown fight to the death. _A dance! Just like the end of Festival Dance where I tumble through the dancers while I play my pipes! I can do this!_

“Here I come, Theo!” Pack yelled as he tucked and rolled out of his hiding space. _The Ballad of Talbin’s Tower_ played in his head as the bard allowed his muscles to weave him through trouble just as if the Great End of Festival Dance loomed above his head instead of a monster that would swipe it off. A final skip and cartwheel brought the halfling safely to the wounded priest’s aid. 

Pack peeled Theo’s arm off his wound and gazed down at the gash that leaked blood down the cleric’s side. The sight of the open wound caused the halfling to nearly swoon, but the aged cleric’s dazed eyes and slight smile fueled the bard on. “I’m sorry if this offends you Zuras, but Theo needs help.”

Clasping his hands together to help him concentrate, Pack began his mimic of Theo’s healing prayer. As before, the bard could feel the power build up; but he was still unsure how to release it. Desperate, Pack began repeating the words in the prayer like a chorus, desperately trying not to lose the spell. Faster and faster he repeated the words until it seemed that the power within them would tear him apart, but then the words seemed to take on a rhythm of their own, different from the sacred hymn. In an instant Pack realized that it was not his hands that would distribute the healing power: it was his voice.   

The excited halfling let loose, opening up his voice to the power of this new song whose words no longer resembled any spoken language, but more a harmonic chant of sounds and rhythms. When he felt the magic stop he started again, rasping until his voice and lungs could take it no longer, but by then Theo’s wound had nearly closed and color had begun to return to his pale face. 

With Theo healed, Pack turned his attention back to the battle: even though his friends outnumbered the misshapen man-beast, it appeared that it had the advantage over the four warriors with its long arms and unnaturally fast healing. Already the halfling could see that Ashrem was wearing down and that both Ander and Meepo were covered in fresh scraps and scratches. _How can we defeat this thing? _

“Fire!” Theo gasped trying to rise to his feet, and Pack wondered if had spoken his question aloud or if the priest had somehow read his mind. Before he could ponder further, Theo grabbed his shirt and pulled him close, his weak voice whispering in his ear. “The dragon priest is caught between life and death. Only by cremating him can we free his soul. Pack, you have to tell them. Set him free…”

“Ander, we need to burn him! Theo says the only way to free his soul is to burn him!” Pack yelled, his hoarse voice barely cutting through the din of combat. 

“Throw me your torch, Pack.” The woodsman growled back without taking his eyes off his opponent. 

“I can’t! It’s on the other side of the room where I left it when I was trying to read the pictures!” The halfling’s eyes suddenly lit up as an idea came to him. “Aurora, remember when you said at the campfire how your dragons got really hot when you tried to hold them in place? Try that now!”

The sorceress met his gaze for a moment from across the battlefield, a blank stare on her face: then Pack saw signs of recognition. The red-haired mage took a deep breath and began her summoning. 

Pack held his breath as the blue missiles leapt from Aurora’s fingertips. The twin dragon heads started to fly forward but then stopped and began to spin, fighting against the sorceress’ will to hold them back. Aurora strained against the magic, and the bard could see the concentration in her furrowed brow. Pack watched closely as the missiles began to rotate faster and faster but still the sorceress held them back, until finally they blurred into a halfling-sized ball of sparks and blue flame. 

Pack caught his breath just as Aurora seemed to lose her hold on the magic and the flaming sphere sped forward, rolling right into the misshapen priest, setting it aflame as it engulfed its body. The dragon priest screamed and tried to run but Aurora’s outstretched finger rolled the ball with it, burning the creature as it moved. 
Ander, Ashrem, and a staggering Theo seized the opportunity and began a new assault against the creature, trying to keep it trapped in Aurora’s flaming spell, while Meepo and Pack merely watched mesmerized by the flickering azure flames. By the time the spell died, the former dragon priest was no more than a charred pile of smoking ash. 

Pack suddenly felt very tired and the halfling realized that he had never tended to his own wound, now throbbing with pain as his excitement faded. The bard pulled a healing draught free from his pack, pulling the stopper as he did so, and slide against the wall to rest his tired legs.

Around him the bard could see Theo slapping away Ander’s attempts to point out the clerics own wounds while the priest tried to heal the woodsman and the feloine. He also saw Meepo’s excited form dancing back and forth between the charred remains of the dragon priest and an exhausted Aurora, trying to get the young sorceress to repeat the spell that she had just cast. Pack giggled to himself at the sight of the kobold’s antics, complete with crackling fire noise effects and mock dragon breath that released only spittle and dry air.

As he drank his own vial of magical vitality, the bard knew that whatever confronted them down below had better watch out: _We’re heroes now, and heroes don’t die easy... _

*****

Next Time:

On Deadly Ground," or, "Fire Down Below!"


----------



## Ashy

Excellent!!  The exposition of the bard's path in life was excellent and I LOVED Pack's translation into the clerical realm - wonderful!!!!


----------



## Bubbalicious

Ashy said:
			
		

> *Excellent!!  The exposition of the bard's path in life was excellent and I LOVED Pack's translation into the clerical realm - wonderful!!!!   *




Translation?!?!  I cast one healing spell and now I'm a friggin' do-gooder priest?  And a priest of Zuras no less?  He's a little heavy-handed for my tastes what with all that lightning and thunder and smiting and stuff!  I'm an artist baby!!!  If we had a cleric who'd stay in back where he belongs instead of running headlong into pits and arrow traps and wyvern nests and troll break dance circles then I wouldn't have to waste my talent on mundane tasks like stopping bleeding and reattaching fingers and birthin' babies!  I don't know nothin' 'bout birthin' no babies Miz Scarlett!!!  (Whoops, rambled into the wrong story!)  Anyway, I would like to make a statement for the record: I did not have clerical relations with that woman!

There, I hope that clears things up a bit!!!


----------



## Rel

Bubbalicious said:
			
		

> *Anyway, I would like to make a statement for the record: I did not have clerical relations with that woman!
> 
> There, I hope that clears things up a bit!!! *




I seem to recall another "Bubba" who said something similar...(I hope you aren't going to blame this whole thing on some vast "Wyvern Wing" conspiracy)

I never considered that Pack might be going Cleric (not that there's anything wrong with that) until Ashy mentioned it.  I just figured that CLW was one of your Bard spells.

Long Live the Arcane Healers!  (Probably longer than Theo at the rate he's going)


----------



## Ashy

LOL!!

Actually, I was talking about manner in which the casting of the spell was explained - it was different than a clerical spell - it had a bardish patina on it, as if Pack tried to cast a clerical spell but found that he could not, instead he improvised and cast a bardic version of it!


----------



## Enkhidu

I was looking last night, and I realized that Small Beginnings has just made it into the all time top 25 story hours (based on views). 

I just wanted to say thanks for reading - hopefully your still as satisfied with the SH as the day you first started reading!


----------



## Badger

*Another two coppers to the pile...*

First of all, let me start off by saying once more you guys have become the main reason why I come onto the Story Hour board. While there are other good writers on here, by far, I think you guys are the best. Granted, I may be a bit biased on that view as this was the first story hour I ever read.

Pack using the power of his voice to heal was a great thing. All along, I have been waiting to see how he was going to pull it off, and when it happened, I could only nod my head and think, 'Yep, that's pretty much how I imagined it would be.'

The characters blend together so smoothly, yes, that includes Meepo, that at times, I have to remind myself that this is their first adventure out, and the best is still yet to come.

I can't wait for the next set of updates, both here and when the char sheets are rereleased as they begin to advance.

As for am I as pleased now as I was when I first read this story, the answer is a resounding yes. As I know I've said before, and know I will say again, you guys have great storytelling skills, and I look foward to seeing where this will go.

Until then, I shall continue to enjoy from here in the peanut gallery...

Badger


----------



## Bubbalicious

I don't want to give anyone the wrong idea, I'm not a cleric basher.  I think they have the same right as anybody to live their lives that way as long as they don't approach me about it...or talk to my kids!  I'm really quite tolerant as long as they don't try to make me one of them!  I actually had a couple of cleric friends in college, but inevitably we'd get drunk, they'd try to "convert" me, then I'd be forced to beat them sober.  It kind of puts a strain on a friendship.


----------



## Badger

*throws rope around the SH*

Get away from that page two ledge...

*pulls back to top*

Phew...that was a close one....


Badger


----------



## Badger

Holy T-Rex Batman...what is this SH doing here on page two...I swear by all that is indecent and politically incorrect to keep pulling this thread back to the top where it belongs...


Badger


----------



## dshai527

Thanks Badger. 

Enk, myself and our better halves have been doing battle with the Evil Lord Flu. After serveral missed saving throws and fumbled attacks we are getting healthy and should have a story hour post up soon. Sorry for the delay.


----------



## Badger

*Craft Wonderous Item*

Syrup of Greater Internal Fortitude

This elixer is often sold as being multiflavored, but once mixed with open air, tastes like mulled oxen sweat. However, if the user can swallow said "mixture", it grants a +10 bonus to all rest checks, while giving a -10 to all other checks.

Req: 100% alcohol, bitter root, and a warped sense of humor. Crafter level: 3rd, but to be honest any schmoe out there can make a passable version.
Retail cost: 700gp, a ruthless price to make you question do you really want to feel better.


Hope you guys get better soon...

Badger


----------



## LuYangShih

Don't rip off Nyquils forumla, man, they have Half-Fiendish Lawyers just waiting for a copyright infringement.    Good Story Hour.  Kill a PC or two, though, to make it really interesting.


----------



## Rel

dshai, et al:

Here is a medicine you should try:  Equal parts butter, honey and bourbon.  Heat in a mug.  Stir.  Drink.

I don't know if it actually fixes anything, but after a couple of doses, you won't care.


----------



## Badger

*Rising to the top...*

Man, you turn your back for a second in this place and before you know it you're back on the second page. Think I'm gonna have to break out hammer and nails to keep this little sucker in place on the first page...

Take all the time you need guys getting better, it'll only make the comeback post all the sweeter.

BTW, how is the little misses feeling as she advances? Hit the radical mood swing stage yet?



Badger


----------



## Enkhidu

Dang double post...


----------



## Enkhidu

Just a quick reminder - if you want to enter the contest we are running (detailed two posts ago), you only have until end of day (5PM Eastern time) tomorrow (the last day of February) to do so. Get your entries in and quick!


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

*"On Deadly Ground," or, "Fire Down Below!"*

Well, you give the masses three weeks to enter to get free dice, and you get - let me count -  two qualified entries.

Well, Enk, they were _your_ dice. 

But, according to the complicated mathematical formulas I have worked out, we do have a winner.

You forgot to carry the two. 

Dang it! Now I have to start all over again!

Why not just save time and call it a draw? 

Oh... that's just crazy enough to work. I guess we have two winners - Rel and Badger. So, we'll need you to send us your mailing addresses - send them to enkhidu527@cs.com and we'll send out a set of dice (like the ones I described initially - lots of dice pleasing to the eye but not necessarily an exact match).

And order now for your Dragon-Keeper Meepo Action Playset Ander and Thoqqua not included (Check, Money Order, Loose Change, and First Born Children accepted).

Tip O' the Day
"When holding a contest make sure to give out a prize people will want, I mean Enk doesn't even want his dice. He's the only gamer I know who wants to use the leadership feat for an official diceroller. Sheesh!"

Thank you to all of you who participated, and we will have another contest soon. Maybe some modules or other fine prizes to be awarded. 

We would also like to say Thank You for all your patience while we rested up from our battle with the evil Lord EN-fluenza. (Note: I am the one who had to do all the work because, well, Enk really does roll that badly.....I told him he should have been a spellcaster.)
 

And on that note...

*****

"On Deadly Ground," or, "Fire Down Below!"

Aurora waited on the small landing as Ashrem and Theo pulled the Sarcophagus lid into place just above her head, the stone cap resting heavily on Ander’s staff so as not to close completely. Below her she could see Pack, Meepo, and Ander already exploring this new chamber using the dull green glow of the strange torch that had so recently lit the now dead dragon priest’s tomb. It appeared to the sorceress that at some point this had once been a secret room below the citadel; now only a few stone steps remained, hanging above an earthen passage created from whatever earthquake unburied the place. 

With the lid nearly closed, Theo turned and dropped off the landing using the dirt walls to slide to the bottom. Ashrem turned and looked at Aurora, and the young sorceress knew from the glimmer in his eyes that, in his own way, he was saying thank you for what she was about to do. With a reaffirming smile she took the bag from his hands and gave him a playful push off the landing, where the feloine made a graceful roll to join the others. 

Alone on her perch, she could see Ander looking up at her, a frown still fixed on his face. The sorceress knew he was none too happy about allowing her to be last one down; however, he, like the others, knew that this needed to be done. After Theo had given such a grand eulogy for the cremated priest, pleading for his soul to be forgiven so that he might enjoy his afterlife, none of the company could object. _No crime could have been worth a century or more of being buried alive as punishment.  _

The young maiden took a moment to focus her thoughts and prepare her mind. She calmed herself with a breath and pulled her magics around her like a shield protecting her from the influences of the sphere. When she felt confident, Aurora opened the bag. 

Light washed over the sorceress as she drew forth the Sphere of Sorrows. Images of her mother flooded her mind, pulled to the surface by the hungry orb. Quickly, she pushed them away only to have them replaced by the grisly image of her mentor dead in his study, assassinated by a rival hungry for power. The young mage felt tears well up on her cheeks just as they had before, but with a final push Aurora let go of her thoughts as she let go of the sphere. 

For a moment the light continued to flow around the sorceress, but with a quick tug on Ander’s staff the sarcophagus lid came crashing down and the orb’s hallowed music became silent. She knew that the eyes of her friends were upon her, but the sorceress took a moment to compose herself before sliding down the wall to join them. 

 “Well, looks like only one direction to go now,” she joked, trying to lighten the mood. Meepo’s eyes were the only pair not focused on her, being instead fixated on something hidden in his hands that he alternately sniffed and licked. When her companions didn’t react to her jibe, the sorceress simply handed the staff and bag back to their owners and marched ahead to see what the kobold was attempting to eat. She hadn’t taken more than a few paces when everyone else seemed to snap out of their melancholy and took their spots for the march ahead. The sorceress paused to knock a bug out of Meepo’s hand and then they too joined the advancing group. 

The passage continued to grow until the green torch no longer illuminated the walls and large holes began dotting the ground. To Aurora it seemed that they were inside a large gopher hole with lots of smaller passages leading in all directions, but still the small group marched forward. When the passageway seemed at its largest, Meepo stopped them and pointed left. “This way to old master,” he said in his native tongue.

“No Meepo, we are going to fight the demon first.” The kobold looked confused, which was nothing new, but shrugged its shoulders and walked on. 

“What was that?” Ander asked as he dropped back to join the young woman.

“Meepo says that’s the passage we need to follow when we leave.” 

“Ashrem has a scent to follow, that’s why we didn’t stop to ask which way we should be going. It’s good to know though.” 

 After a while the passage began to narrow again until finally it ended, exposing a cave-in that led back to the carved stone of the citadel. It was a short hoist up to get back inside the carved stone structure of the keep and, following Ashrem’s lead, the party moved quickly through a tangle of hallways. Aurora was almost relieved when the feloine finally raised a clenched fist to signal the party to stop. The sorceress watched as Ander and Ashrem exchanged whispered words and finally Ander nodded as Ashrem slunk off around the corner. 

Aurora’s curiosity was peaked as Ander approached the remaining team. In a hushed voice the woodsman began, “Ashrem says that there are several goblin guards down the next hallway. There is a door between us and them, but we still think it is best if we hit them from surprise. Ashrem and I are best suited to deal with this so the rest of you wait here while we handle it. Okay?”

Aurora noticed Pack and Theo nodding their heads – even Meepo nodded, mimicking the actions of the companions - but the young mage was not yet convinced. “How many, Ander?”

“Aurora, we don’t have time…” Ander stammered. She noticed the distinctive, and increasingly familiar, furrow on the woodsman’s brow that indicated that he was not pleased with her line of questioning.

“How many?”

“Eight. Maybe more. But we think they are spread out in three different rooms behind three different doors.”

“Take Meepo.”

“You can’t come. I know that somehow you walk like your feet were covered in feathers but the fighting will be in close quarters. Besides, we need you to save your energies for when we find this tree-demon.” 

“Ander Lad, she said take Meepo, and I agree. Those odds are too high for just the two of you,” Theo quietly rumbled. Aurora could see the priest was holding back a smile and Pack’s sudden interest in the floor indicated that he also found something highly amusing. The sorceress suddenly felt her face brighten and she too found something else not in Ander’s direction to occupy herself. 

“Meepo? Oh, yes. Meepo would be a help,” she heard Ander remark blankly. “Alright, Meepo, let’s go.”

At the mention of his name, Aurora saw the kobold’s head snap up to look at Ander, a slight tilt emphasizing his confusing. The sorceress was about to explain until Ander drew his new blade and started around the corner and suddenly recognition flashed in Meepo’s eyes. The small scaly warrior quickly rushed to join the woodsman, stopping only when he noticed that Aurora was not following. A slight nod of her head seemed to tell the kobold all that he needed to know and with what seemed like a sly smile to the sorceress, Meepo the warrior rushed off to battle. 

Aurora stood with Theo and Pack, patiently waiting for some indication to the events that were unfolding around the bend. The sorceress strained her ears listening for any sound that might give her some clue, but only silence drifted back to her ears. Wringing her fingers ever tighter around her wand the young maiden tried to calm her nerves, but after many frantic heartbeats she gave in to her desire and pushed forward to aid her friends. Only Theo’s firm grip on her arm stayed her course, and his grim-faced shake of the head let the sorceress know that she was acting foolishly. 

Suddenly the hallway erupted with sound; loud thuds, deep throated grunts, an occasional crash, and every so often the high pitched shout of “Meepo Missile!” The three companions quickly bolted around the corner eager to aid their friends. The grisly scene that awaited them was not quite what they had expected. 

Ander and Ashrem were both quietly cleaning and sheathing their blades as a half dozen goblin bodies littered the floor about them, each corpse sporting only a single precise wound indicating its cause of death. Behind them, Meepo was actively engaged with running his dazed goblin captive’s head at full speed into a wall while yelling “Meepo Missile!” The resulting impact knocked both kobold and prisoner backwards, and left the latter with a sizable dent in his head. 

“Meepo!” Aurora gasped. “Don’t play with your… your… enemies!”

Meepo’s eyes rose to meet Aurora’s and the sorceress immediately felt ashamed about her comment. She knew that the kobold was only doing what was instinctive, and she knew that she had no right to expect him to do any differently. Still, Aurora felt that Meepo was different from the rest. Something deep down inside her told the sorceress that he was special, that Meepo could rise above the primal instincts of his race and become something more: something great. _Right, just like what Master Fanzineir saw in me. Only this time I hope it’s real, at least Meepo can’t get ejected from the academy. Sorry Master. Sorry I failed you._

Aurora felt the tears begin to well up in her eyes again at the though of her departed mentor but with a steeled nerve the sorceress pushed the emotions back down and patted the kobold gentle on the head as an apology. Meepo eagerly accepted the affection and turned away pulling a nearby door closed so that he could retrieve his spear that pinned yet another goblin corpse to its wooden surface. 

“We decided to let Meepo have the last few.” Ander said almost apologetically. “Ash and I wanted to gauge his fighting skill better so we would know how to react later on.” 

“And?” Aurora asked, not wanting to let the woodsman know she hadn’t the slightest clue what he was referring to. 

 “It is a monster,” Ashrem replied nonchalantly, “and it fights like one. Let us hope our lives never depend on it.”

Ashrem words rang in her ears and Aurora could only stare at the scaly creature as he ripped his spear from his victim’s guts and then proceeded to take a few additional stabs at the lifeless corpse. When Meepo finally paraded up to the sorceress to proudly display his gory weapon, she could only shake her head and smile. Reaching down Aurora patted the kobold’s horned head. “Ashrem’s wrong about you Meepo. We’ll show him. One day you will be a great hero.”

*	*	*

Meepo loved a good fight, especially when the other side didn’t _know_ there was a fight: it was the kobold way. Lifemate and Soultaker obviously approved, as they seemed very skilled at kobold tactics. Their skill was even more obvious by the way they cleaned the lifeblood of their enemies from their blades, showing they had no respect for the skills of their foes and did not need to add their life spirits to their weapons. 

Meepo knew that if he wanted to gain favor with the Rora Angel that he would need much lifeblood to compare with the skills of the Angel’s chosen warriors. It had surprised the dragon keeper that the Angel had come to inspect his handiwork so soon after the battle was joined, but the reaction she had given him when he had presented his weapon coated with his enemies’ lifeblood raised the kobold’s spirit. 

Meepo glanced up once more at the Rora Angel as she commanded her warriors to start moving again. The kobold could feel the power that emanated from the Angel’s life force; her majesty overwhelmed the small warrior making him feel invincible. Never in all his clan life had he ever experienced anything like it. He knew Queen Yusdrayl also had power, but her power had always made the dragon keeper sick in his scales, like when he had eaten bad rat. Meepo didn’t know what the Scorched God had planned for him but he knew with the Angel’s guidance he would not fail.  

The sudden rise in temperature and the close but not too close crackling of something set ablaze pulled the kobold from his inner turmoil. He quickly scanned the room, shaking his head to clear away his daydreams, and tried to determine his whereabouts and what new danger threatened the Rora Angel. It seemed that the Angel and her followers were prepared for a fight: Soultaker held open a charred door while the others ran in with weapons drawn. Meepo charged forward as well. 

The room was a furnace with an entire store of grain as its fuel. Only a lone dung grubber hurried frantically to extinguish it, beating back the fire with an old blanket. Tongues of flame licked out at the kobold and his companions as they moved into the fiery chamber. Lifemate sprang forward in an attempt to catch the Dung-Grubber off guard but the fire drove the warrior back with a threatening snap and burst. Thunderer yelled something in his overland speech, but the roar of the fire drowned out even his booming voice. 

With sudden divine inspiration, Meepo realized the Scorch God had given him a chance to shine. He knew that his hard dragon scales would survive the flames much better than the soft fleshy scales the other followers had: it was up to him to eliminate the dung grubber before he realized their presence and sounded the alarm. Bringing his Rora-touched spear to bear, the kobold warrior charged through the fire to slay his hated enemy. 

Meepo felt each clawed step as he darted forward. Every breath that the kobold inhaled pulled smoke and ash into his chest, yet he ran on focused only on his target. When only a few steps remained between him and his foe, the dragon warrior yelled out a battle cry and dropped his spear point into place. “Meepo Missile!”

Time seemed to slow for the would-be hero. The dung grubber’s blanket flapped at the flames like Cal’s wing after she had eaten too much – lazily and with little effect. He saw the stones beneath his target’s feet glow red, then white. And, with just a few strides between Meepo and the hob, the kobold threw himself to the side, just in time to see Lifemate streak by him and crash into the dung grubbing fire-fighter. Suddenly the floor beneath the tangled pair burst apart as the head of a fire-top worm broke through like a spear, and swallowed them both, leaving the kobold staring at one of the Scorch God’s most dangerous beasts.

The worm fell back through the hole, leaving a breathless Meepo at the edge of the remaining floor. He ventured a look down the hole and saw the worm rearing back over Lifemate as if ready to strike. Lifemate’s sword hung loosely in his hand, and his legs burned brightly. His screams echoed up the hole, and Meepo knew that the Rora Angel’s Lifemate was so much ash. All of his training under the clan masters yelped at him to run and hide, that better times to fight the fire-top would come, but the kobold’s legs simply picked him up off the stone and propelled him, spear-first, down toward the worm.

*“Meepo Missile!”* His shout seemed to come from someone else. Meepo dragon-keeper would never have jumped down on the back of a fire-worm. Meepo Rora-keeper would. The kobold cried out, enraged that the worm could hurt someone close to Rora Angel, and with a final shout he drove that rage into the worm’s back on the tip of his spear point.

The thing squealed in pain, lifting itself off of Lifemate’s legs, and Lifemate acted, burying his sword in the beast’s belly, right to the hilt. The worm shuddered and fell to the side, its heat fading as it stopped moving: Meepo stabbed it again and again to make sure it was dead. Then he spotted the broken remains of the dung grubber and stabbed it for good measure, though its head had already been crushed by the falling rubble. He then looked at Lifemate, stopped himself from stabbing the warrior, and took a deep breath. 

Lifemate breathed, though his legs still smoked and smoldered and Meepo pushed rubble and dirt on top him to stop the flames. Dust and rocks continued to rain down on the kobold as the warrior stamped out the remaining fires before returning to check on the injured Lifemate. As the keeper examined the fallen warrior the Angel’s melodic voice rang out from above. “Meepo are you alright. Where is Ander?”

“Meepo fine but An-Dur trapped under rock and hurt bad by Fire-top worm. Fire-top worm dead now, no hurt Angel.” Meepo could barely hear the Angel issuing orders to her followers up top using the outlander speak before she yelled back down at him. 
“Meepo we need your help. We don’t have much time. The fire up here is burning to fast and we need to get out now.” The small kobold felt his stomach churn, as he knew that the Angel was about to ask him to finish off An-Dur Lifemate so the enemy would not find him like this, but to his surprise the Angel tossed down a rope and asked something different. “Meepo tie the rope to Ander so we can pull him up and get out of here before the fire takes us.”

“Why you no come down and go this way?” The dragon keeper asked pointing down the dark passage underneath the Angel. “There is tunnel down here.”

“Tunnel? Where does it lead?”

“Meepo not know, but Meepo see many trees beyond the tunnel.”

“Trees?” The Angel asked perplexed. “How are there trees growing below ground?”

*****


Next Time!

"Theo Starts a Fight," or "The Perils of Infidelity!"


----------



## Ashy

Truy excellent, as usual, guys!!!    Hey, how about an autographed copy of the Story Hour as a prize!  

You guys going to GenCon?


----------



## Enkhidu

Hi guys!

P-Kitty just gave me the ability to prune some old non-story posts, and I took the chance to clean out everything from 2002 not directly related to the story itself. Hopefully this will make it easier for our existing readers to look up posts from yesteryear while making it easier for new readers to breeze through the meat of "what has come before."

By the way, Small Beginnings passed 7000 views earlier today (before I started pruning the thread and screwed up the count) - that makes about 1000 views in the month of February. From the looks of it, we have some new readers. Welcome aboard!

By the way, if you are a lurker feel free to post comments, criticism, and questions - D'Shai and I like those!


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## LuYangShih

Comment:  Lifemate seems rather biased against Kobolds, especially given the fact he likely has little to no experience with them up to this point.  You'd think he'd be more accepting of the raging psycho bodyguard.

Criticism:  I don't think it makes sense for Meepo to use a spear when he has such a high Dexterity.  I would think he would use something he could finesse, or preferably, a ranged weapon.  It would fit better with the cowardly nature of kobolds, as well.  

Question:  Are these Heroes of the "destined to succeed" type?  In other words, unless they commit near suicidal acts of stupidity, they will never die, right?


----------



## Badger

*Just my two cents...*

Just my two cents on the questions, and by no means does my opinions reflect or in anyway come close to those possibly held by the main brains behind this great thread...*looks for kleenex to wipe off nose*

I think Meepo uses the spear because it is an upclose and personal weapon, and while the others in his tribe may be cowardly and think to throw stones and use bows, Meepo is a kobold on a mission. He wants to prove that he is worty of Rora Angel's blessing and to do that, he has to be a mighty warrior. Kinda hard to be mighty with a bow in the shadows...

As far as racial bias, that could well be art imitating life, look at our own culture and how some people still can't look past skin, religion, and what not, regardless of if they have been exposed to different things or not. This could be a case of "everyone else hates them, guess I do too.."

As far as the death goes, I think if they really screwed the pooch, they could die, but for me personally, if Theo was to die in Act three, I wouldn't want to know in advance that he did. So, in some things, its best to stay in the dark.

Would talk more, but my class for today is about to start...

More to follow as I can...

Badger

P.S. I'll get the addy soon for the dice...my girl said I could bronze them since I so psyched I tied to win..


----------



## Enkhidu

Good questions, overall!




			
				LuYangShih said:
			
		

> *Comment:  Lifemate seems rather biased against Kobolds, especially given the fact he likely has little to no experience with them up to this point.  You'd think he'd be more accepting of the raging psycho bodyguard.*




I think you're talking about Ashrem, the one that Meepo calls "Soultaker." So far in the Story Hour, he's had very little contact with kobolds, true, but I can safely say (without giving anything away too soon) that Ashrem has more experience with them than he lets on. All will be revealed in time.



> *Criticism:  I don't think it makes sense for Meepo to use a spear when he has such a high Dexterity.  I would think he would use something he could finesse, or preferably, a ranged weapon.  It would fit better with the cowardly nature of kobolds, as well.*



What you say makes perfect sense - unfortunatly, Meepo doesn't usually make a lot of sense. This is a situation of our characters (PC or NPC) making "substandard" choices based  on events in the story - in this particular example, Meepo's rather skewed view of "Rora Angel and her followers" has made him place a greater than proper significance on a simple spear.



> *Question:  Are these Heroes of the "destined to succeed" type?  In other words, unless they commit near suicidal acts of stupidity, they will never die, right? *




Not exactly. The PCs went into the Sunless Citadel a bit more powerful than your standard beginning PCs, in order to account for the background D'Shai wanted us to cook up (at least 2 or 3 years of connections in Icemist in order to provide for some intraparty connection). What your seeing here is the fallout from that slightly higher level of power. For a better idea of what the party is like when it all begins, you can check out their stat blocks in the Rogue's Gallery here.

Other than that, D'Shai believes in the concept of the "Freebie," where death is avoidable for a PC one time during their career. Usually, he just uses it as an excuse to mess with the player even more (as in "there are worse fates than death!").

Anyway, keep asking and we'll keep answering!


----------



## Rel

Another fantastic installment.  Loved the way they got rid of the Sphere of Sorrows and all the hot-Meepo-Missile action.  The fact that I managed to tie for a win with Badger is just gravy.

I feel (unjustly) that I should make a great speach:

_I'd like to thank all the little people who made this award possible.  Especially Pack and Meepo, since they're, well...little.

I'd also like to give a special mention to the dung-grubbing goblins whose slaughter has really helped bring life to the party and who have frankly given us all lots of entertainment with their dying.

Then there's Enk and dshai whose brilliant writing helped inspire my choices for the movie roles.  You guys sort of remind me of Afleck and Damon.  Well, a "Good Will Hunting" era Afleck and Damon, not a "Reindeer Games" era Afleck and Damon.  But you know what I mean.

Gosh, there are so many other people to thank.  I'll list them alphabetically.  There's Ander and Ashrem and Aurora and...*The "Hurry Up And Finish Your Speach" music drowns out the rest of Rel's pointless oratory.*_


You guys still have one of the best story hours on the boards.  And I'm not just saying that because of the bribe, er...gift, er...prize.  Yeah that's it.  The PRIZE that I EARNED.


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## Badger

*Speeches...*

Hmmm.....since Rel made his speech I feel it's only fair that I do the same...Pardon me while I whip this thing out...


I'd like to thank all the BIG people who made this award possible. Especially Ander and that Bear thingie in the woods, since they're, well...BIG.

I'd also like to give a special mention to the Amish whose home made cheese and horse drawn carriages really helped bring life to all parties and who have frankly given us all lots of entertainment with their facial hair and did I mention home made butter?

Then there's Enk and dshai whose brilliant writing helped inspire my choices for the movie roles. You guys sort of remind me of me and Rel. Well, a "Mork and Mindy" era me and Rel, not a "The World According to Garp" era. But I digress and ramble on pointlessly.

Gosh, there are so many more things I could say, but as Rel's speech ended rather abruptly here, then I guess mine must too. Thanks again for the outlet to waste the precious time alloted to me at something I enjoy, vice the reality the Navy tries to impose on me...

Peace and always remember 'No matter how bad the food may be, its nothing that a little Texas Pete won't fix.'

Badger

Yes, I know I will proly be banned after that shameless copy of Rel's speech, but I'm bored, and he left me the opening to use my "copy" function..


----------



## LuYangShih

Enkhidu said:
			
		

> *Good questions, overall!
> 
> 
> 
> 
> I think you're talking about Ashrem, the one that Meepo calls "Soultaker." So far in the Story Hour, he's had very little contact with kobolds, true, but I can safely say (without giving anything away too soon) that Ashrem has more experience with them than he lets on. All will be revealed in time.
> *





Nah, I'm talking about Ander.  I know the difference between Lifemate and Soultaker!  Ander seems to be at least as disapproving of Meepo as Ashrem, despite the aid the little guy has given the party (and him in particular) so far.  



> *
> What you say makes perfect sense - unfortunatly, Meepo doesn't usually make a lot of sense. This is a situation of our characters (PC or NPC) making "substandard" choices based  on events in the story - in this particular example, Meepo's rather skewed view of "Rora Angel and her followers" has made him place a greater than proper significance on a simple spear.*




Well, he should at least throw the spear every now and then.   




> *
> Not exactly. The PCs went into the Sunless Citadel a bit more powerful than your standard beginning PCs, in order to account for the background D'Shai wanted us to cook up (at least 2 or 3 years of connections in Icemist in order to provide for some intraparty connection). What your seeing here is the fallout from that slightly higher level of power. For a better idea of what the party is like when it all begins, you can check out their stat blocks in the Rogue's Gallery here.*





Alright, then.  I already looked at that thread, (that's how I knew Meepos Dexterity), but I figured the statistics were for the current incarnations of the characters. 



> *
> Other than that, D'Shai believes in the concept of the "Freebie," where death is avoidable for a PC one time during their career. Usually, he just uses it as an excuse to mess with the player even more (as in "there are worse fates than death!").
> 
> Anyway, keep asking and we'll keep answering! *




Will do.  Thanks for the answers.


----------



## dshai527

To clarify a little more on what Enk said, I will now offer a little more insight into our table. When we first started gaming together and I took the DM throne, death happened way too often. (Interparty conflict, bad rolls or my good rolls, Stupid actions or inactions and occasionally the heroric deed.) This lead to some of the players (hey we were young) using a character as a tool for vengence rather than a PC in a world. Since I have a grander view of heroes and epic stories I instituted the "freebie". One time in your career I wil lsave you from what ever circumstance I see fit, this usually means your fisrt death. There is always a heavy in game price to pay but it has always made the game more colorful. Sometimes one occurance will use up teh entire parties "Freebie". After the "Freebie" you are on your own. 

Now having said that let me reiterate that I love heroes and epic stories. I will usually give you a chance, no matter how slim it is to try and save yourself. I call it the Indiana Jones chance. In the beginning people would say "oh well I'm dead", and start to roll a new character, but them one player said 'What the hell" and offered an elborate escape plan to his current situation. I thought it was doable so I gave it a chance of success. Even though it failed and he died the others saw that just because the rules would normally have killed them if they could make the scene into an epic action I would allow a slim chance for success. 

The PC's still fear the reaper and PC deaths do still happen but they now take greater risks knowing that they just might succeed and this makes the game much more fun. It also makes for some grand tales that endear the PC that much more to the player and add real depth to the character. This sorta balances out the fact that raise spells are very hard to come by and very costly in my game, and maybe, just maybe you'll get to see some of that too....what epic story wouldn't be complete without the struggle between life and death. They don't call me a rat bastard dm for nothing or is that the polymorph any object spell that gets me that title.


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

*Picture*

Here is a lovely picture of one of the sets of dice that will be going to our fabulous winners. Also you can get a free look at the Dice roller made by Clay (alsih20) that D'shai won for being the greatest DM at rolling dice.


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

Ha Ha ... forgot the picture...D'shai's fault.


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

*"Theo Starts a Fight," or "The Perils of Infidelity!"*

Well, it looks like we've had a productive week, because it's already post time again.

SHHH! I'm hunting wabbits. 

Wabbits?

OK - wats. 

You mean rats?

Well, mice. 

You're hunting mice. You got a permit for that?

Look out behind you - he's trying to get flank! 

Flank from what? The only other person here is you. He needs another flanker to... nevermind.

Hee hee! 

Anyway, while D'Shai is busy decimating the local rodent population I should probably get this underway.

Tip of the Day! 

Oh yeah - Tip of the Day:

If the person you are attacking is several size catagories larger than you, taunting him is not your best tactic. Just ask the mouse. 

Not that this advice will come into play later in the story hour or anything...

*****

"Theo Starts a Fight," or "The Perils of Infidelity!"

The prickly needles of small evergreens brushed against Ander’s cheek as he pushed through the thick branches. The woodsman was awed by the lush underground forest that resided deep within the walls of the kobold citadel. Each tree stood much shorter than normal, about the same height as the ranger, but closer inspection revealed them to be in perfect health despite the lack of any noticeable light source. Even the soil was a good mix: more suited for the wide farms of the southlands than to this underground cavern.

He paused and knelt down in the fertile soil, carefully checking for signs that someone or something else frequented this sunless glade. The ranger pushed aside the lowest branches, checking for but not finding any broken or snapped twigs. He shifted his gaze to the soft soil and checked for track impressions or animal droppings: his search yielded none. With a sigh, the woodsman settled back on his haunches as if pondering his recent search, but the truth was that Ander needed a break. 

The company hadn’t traveled very far since Theo had used his healing gift upon the woodsman’s burns, but Ander’s legs were still sore. The wounds themselves were gone, healed by the priest’s magic, but long unused muscles stretched and strained with each step, just as they had when he first took up his staff and bow and started northward. He never realized how much he had come to depend upon Icemantle’s boots until they burned in the worm’s fire. The magical spring that they had added to his steps had become almost a part of him, and now the effort that it took to move seemed strange. Thankfully, the magic of the boots had not been completely lost. Aurora had magically mended and sealed the boots; but they had lost much of their magic, and now only gave Ander that extra spring in short bursts begun with a click of one heel to another. 

A firm hand on his shoulder startled the ranger until he realized that it was only Ashrem. The feloine’s skill amazed Ander, at least as much as a tree growing beneath the ground. The scout crouched down to join him and softly informed him of his news. “I have detected the scent of a lone goblin upwind from our position. Should I dispatch him?”

“No, I’ll take care of it. You start moving the rest of the group up and around him. Keep your eyes open for a trail of some sort. I’ll join you when I’m done.” The feloine offered no resistance, simply nodding his head, and retreated back to their companions. _I guess it’s time for me to get used to fighting on my own two feet again. _

The sword that Meepo had presented him was nothing more than a useless slab of metal after being exposed to the heat generated by the fire worm he had skewered, so Ander slid his staff back out from its loop in his backpack. The balanced wood felt more natural to the ranger than the kobold’s iron sword had and he quietly questioned why he had ever abandoned his wooden friend. Its ironwood shaft offered the woodsman more options both in combat and out. 


Weapon now in hand, Ander moved forward in the direction the feloine had indicated would hide his prey. The woodsman moved on his belly, softly creeping towards his unsuspecting victim. Bending aside a sapling the ranger finally caught sight of his target. A single large goblin silently examined one of the small trees, his hands resting casually on a pair of sickles nestled in his belt.

Ander casually scanned his surroundings, checking for any signs to indicate that the goblin had allies close by, while also looking for any tactical advantage the terrain might lend to him. When he was satisfied that they were alone, he rushed from his hiding spot, realizing too late that the goblin had known where he hid. 

Despite his lack of total surprise, Ander still knew that he held the advantage. His superior speed from Icemantle’s… _Bones! I forgot to click my heels, and I’m not going to make it!_ He slowed his charge to meet the goblin of equal terms. A string of Ionian curses flowed from his mouth when he also realized that his opponent was not just wildly swinging as most goblins do, but was skillfully attacking with both sickles. 

Having lost all his advantages, Ander backpedaled as the Goblin pushed forward with a deadly combination of slashes. To make matters worse, the woodsman knew that if he were pushed back too much further his weapon would be near useless, trapped between the densely packed evergreens. In desperation, Ander used his second weapon: the forest itself. 

The woodsman allowed himself to be pushed deeper into the grove and the goblin followed, still swinging his deadly sickles, unhampered by the close fighting space. _One, two, three, recover. One more time – one, two…_ Ander sidestepped his foe’s next swipe and bent a tree over, using it to tangle his opponents curved weapon within its thick branches. 

The goblin followed through on the swing, embedding the sickle’s blade deep in the bark, so that when the woodsman released the tree it plucked the sickle from the goblin’s hand and sent it flying end over end into the underbrush. Before the goblin could recover, Ander grabbed the next tree and yanked it back so that on its return it smacked the goblin in the nose, giving it a face full of needles. 

The stunned goblin reeled, trying to recover from the unexpected attack, but Ander quickly followed, prodding the blinded goblin with his staff and driving it back to the clearing where his weapon could be used to its full potential. Once he reached the clearing, the woodsman unleashed a furious assault using both ends of the staff. He drove it into the creature’s belly, folding it like a cloth, and then drove it to the ground with an overhand swing. He heard bones breaking as he did, and he finished the goblin off with a swift blow to the neck, mercifully snapping it. The goblin simply lay there, face down, yet belly up. 

His combat fever over, Ander felt his legs begin to ache again and he realized that several of the goblin’s swings had managed to draw blood. The wounds were minor though and the ranger applied a small amount of sap to each one to stop the bleeding and hastened to catch his friends. 

The woodsman found his companions patiently waiting along a narrow trail. The party had assembled around two more dead goblins outfitted similarly to the one that Ander himself had encountered. Since none of his fellows, or even the surrounding foliage, showed any signs of injury, the ranger figured that they had taken the goblins out quickly, possibly from an ambush. Looks like I’ve been able to rub off on them.

“Glad you could join us lad,” Theo began. “I take it by your presence your endeavor went well.” 

“Not as good as yours did, from the looks of it. Did I miss anything?” 

Ashrem started to answer but Aurora cut into the conversation. “While you were off trying to get yourself killed, Ashrem found a door further up along this trail. We’ve just been waiting for you to finish your thrillseeking.” Ander cringed, but he knew that even if he explained it, she still wouldn’t understand his reasoning for going alone. Still, he had to try.

“Aurora, I know you don’t…” a sudden shift in the trees caught his eyes. Without any words the woodsman turned his back and drifted into the trees heading in the direction of the motion that caught his eye. The ranger’s senses focused as his body reacted to his heightened sense of danger. His ears heard the whispered words of Theo as he quieted the others until all that was left was the muffled clank of the priest’s armor and Pack’s nervous humming. His eyes spied the swishing needles to his left where Ashrem shadowed his lead. His noise sniffed the soft scent of the evergreens as he pushed his way through the thick branches, every so often catching the scent of the blood that caked his own armor. 

He finally passed the tree next to where he saw movement; its lower branches moved slightly, as if stirring in a nonexistent wind. With great care Ander checked each branch on each tree and every indent and depression in the soil around them. Except for the slight movement of the tree, he found nothing. He turned to where he knew Ashrem lay hiding, “What do you think?”

“The scent of the trees is strong, but I don’t smell anything underneath it.” 

“I can’t find anything either, but I know its there. I can feel it watching us.”

“I feel it as well; it is as if the eyes of a hunter have marked us as prey. We are not prepared to deal with it here,” Ashrem said as he pulled himself from his hiding spot to look out over the tops of the trees. 

“You’re right. Let’s get back to the others, and from here on out keep your eyes open for a good spot to ambush our sneaky friend.” 

Ander returned to the trail, and was greeted with the inquisitive gazes of his friends. The woodsman simply shrugged his shoulders and shook his head at them. “I thought I saw something.”

“Yeah, a way to get away from Aurora!” Pack laughed. This brought a swift kick in the halfling’s rear from the sorceress. This in turn was followed by a swift kick from Meepo, who seemed to think it was some sort of game and continued to do it until Aurora stopped him: even then the kobold still tried to kick the halfling after every time he said something. By the time the company reached the door, Pack was in the front of the line and Meepo and Aurora marched at the rear with Theo. 

The friends spread out when they came to the door while Ashrem moved forward and began his customary inspection. Ander only casually watched as the feloine carefully traced the door and its frame: he instead kept his eyes open behind them, so when a goblin opened the door, the woodsman was caught off guard. 

Ander stood frozen, stunned by the goblins sudden appearance; only when the goblin yelled an alarm did the woodsman finally react. With a surge of power, the ranger brought his staff hard across the creature’s face, shattering its nose and sending blood spraying across the door, but Ander knew it was too late as he heard the sounds of clanking and rasping steel coming from inside the room. 

Just as he prepared to back up to face the coming enemy, the woodsman felt Theo blow by him with shield out and mace held ready, driving aside a goblin as he rushed through the door. Ashrem followed him, felling another goblin. Pack, Aurora, and even Meepo poured into the room. A stunned Ander brought up the rear, just in time to see Theo and Ashrem, flanking an already bloodied goblin, put their foe down, while Aurora dealt with another with the light of dragon missiles and Pack’s well place dagger throw dropped the last of the goblin defenders. 

Ander found himself even more stunned now, not having realized how much the group had grown as a fighting unit in the past few days. He found himself more than a bit ashamed that he had thought that any of his companions still needed him as their protector. The woodsman stood alone for a moment in contemplation as the group congratulated each other on their victory but then Ashrem brought them more bad news. “Someone is approaching from the other side.”

Contemplation over. “Quick, everyone hide!”

Ander joined the others in the room as they sprang into action. The woodsman watched as Aurora and Meepo climbed behind some barrels nearby and Ashrem slid behind a pile of rubble near the archway on the other side of the room. Pack climbed underneath a trough of soil and what appeared to be black apples while Theo, who Ander realized was not built for hiding, turned hopelessly in a circle seemingly uncertain what to do, until Pack offered a little advice, “Theo, use the elixir that Lizon gave you, Wishbone’s Stealth Brew.”

While Theo searched his backpack for the vial Pack suggested, Ander glided forward and glanced around the archway trying to get a peak at their soon to be visitors. Instead of the company of goblins he expected, the woodsman got a good view of a single goblin leading two humans as they moved up a winding path back towards the room from yet another underground forest. 

The first human was a man of Ander’s build and of similar look, except that his skin looked rougher and much darker. The grim look on the man’s face along with the way he brandished his long sword told the woodsman this man followed a different path than his own. Following the swordsman was a rather plump man about Theo’s age wearing only a loincloth around his waist and a single black glove on the same hand that held a gleaming silver edged sickle. Ander could now also tell that the goblin leading them was female and that her skin was also much darker than the ones that they had been fighting; she was waving a small stick around that seemed to be causing the very forest to stir with life. 

Whoever these people were, Ander knew that they spelled trouble for his friends. 
Turning back into the room, the ranger began to look for his own ambush spot, but stopped as he watched a black mist form around Theo as the priest downed the contents of a small vial. The cloud of darkness rolled around the cleric’s form until it finally settled, blending the light into a natural shadow that completely masked the priest from the woodsman’s sight. 

“Theo, move into the corner, you’ll look more natural over there,” Ander whispered as he himself dove behind the same barrels that hid Aurora and Meepo. The woodsman issued one last command as he arranged the barrels to completely cover the three ambushers. “Everyone be ready. There are three of them. Move on my signal.”

The two men and the goblin moved into the room. _Ready… Set…_ Ander looked to his friends and raised a finger, ready to signal the attack. Then the shouting began.

*“Look at me! Over here! I am the infidel Mistslayer - the fearsome warrior who sleeps with his best friend’s wife! I have no loyalty - please end my adulterous ways! KILL ME!”*

Ander looked over at the source of the noise – a huge translucent mouth that had appeared over Theo’s very flustered face. Whirling colors flowed out from the priest’s body, and as the old man stood Ander saw that he was wreathed in a weak green flame. Motes of colorful light shot out from his body. Worse, the shouting mouth kept screeching the same confession over and over. 

*“Look at me! Over here! I am the infidel Mistslayer - the fearsome warrior who sleeps with his best friend’s wife! I have no loyalty - please end my adulterous ways! KILL ME!”*

_This is not going to be good._

*****

Next Time

"There Goes our Surprise Round," or "Who Invited Trogdor the Burninator?"


By the way, D'Shai just cought his limit, and is right now exercising his right  to the "Mouse Catch and Release" program.

You're free!


----------



## Rel

I must say that this has been my favorite installment in recent history.  Again, it is the little touches that make it so great.  In particular I loved:



> _Bones! I forgot to click my heels, and I’m not going to make it!_




and



> The goblin simply lay there, face down, yet belly up.




Plus the way Ander used the forest to his advantage was awesome.

But, hands down, my favorite moment of this installment and among the top three of the whole story was:




> This brought a swift kick in the halfling’s rear from the sorceress. This in turn was followed by a swift kick from Meepo, who seemed to think it was some sort of game and continued to do it until Aurora stopped him: even then the kobold still tried to kick the halfling after every time he said something. By the time the company reached the door, Pack was in the front of the line and Meepo and Aurora marched at the rear with Theo.




Freakin' hilarious!  

Good job!


----------



## Ashy

WOW, Rel - you made every single point I meant to!    Saved me the quoting!    EXCELLENT, GUYS!    So, I ask again - are you guys going to GenCon????


----------



## dshai527

We have not made a definite decision on Gen-Con this year. Money will be a real big factor even though it is fairly close to us this time. Enk has the baby on the way and I am still searching for a post graduation job while holding on to my contractor position, but that expires this month. Anybody who is going to the con though is welcome to stop by and visit we even have room for people to crash if they don't wanna drive all the way into Indy the first night. I would love to game with some out of towners. It would be great. Guest apperances into the Small beginnings world. 

If all goes well though Enk, Fett and myself are all planning to make it up for at least one day to meet all of our fellow EN-worlders. We may even give out autographs. Who knows.


----------



## Enkhidu

GenCon is iffy for me, though I think D'Shai said he was going. But, since its only about 90 minutes away, I might be able to day trip it.


----------



## Malevolent_Rayn

*Greetings and Salutations*

Heys guys! Just caught up on the story...finally. Great job so far, but I think Gauntlet needs to be mentioned more often *cough*



"Never turn your back on a guy armed with a softball!"


----------



## fett527

*Re: Greetings and Salutations*



			
				Malevolent_Rayn said:
			
		

> *Heys guys! Just caught up on the story...finally. Great job so far, but I think Gauntlet needs to be mentioned more often *cough*
> 
> 
> 
> "Never turn your back on a guy armed with a softball!" *




SHUT IT!

"Never get behind Dan when he's punting a football!"


----------



## Ashy

dshai527 said:
			
		

> *We have not made a definite decision on Gen-Con this year. Money will be a real big factor even though it is fairly close to us this time. Enk has the baby on the way and I am still searching for a post graduation job while holding on to my contractor position, but that expires this month. Anybody who is going to the con though is welcome to stop by and visit we even have room for people to crash if they don't wanna drive all the way into Indy the first night. I would love to game with some out of towners. It would be great. Guest apperances into the Small beginnings world.
> 
> If all goes well though Enk, Fett and myself are all planning to make it up for at least one day to meet all of our fellow EN-worlders. We may even give out autographs. Who knows. *




Coolness!  Drop me an email and let me know where you guys are - I just might drop in!


----------



## Bubbalicious

Boo!


----------



## Black Bard

*Too late...*

I've dropped just to say there I'm alive...but not quite happy, I've missed the contest deadline...Really a shame...

I'm still lagged behind in our heroes exploits, but, with the Gods' help, I'll catch up with you guys...

See ya...

P.S.: Is Livewire alive too?


----------



## dshai527

Hello All, 

Just wanted to pop in and say, "I'm really sorry for the long delay we have had in posting." 

I apologize. I have been spending most of my free time trying to find a job since my current employement ends soon. (I have been given an extension again so I am not fully up the creek yet). Enk and I have begun work on the next installemnt and it should be up soon. 

Once again, I'm sorry. Thank you for your patience and please see Enk for any refunds, returns or exchanges....

on a seperate note: I am working on a revised document for Fett to post on the gods for my world. So keep your eyes peeled....


----------



## fett527

Ok, here's the deal.  I'm on vacation next week and not really going anywhere, just working around the house.  So, as long as the wife goes to bed before me I will be trying to post quite a few things to the Rogue's Gallery thread.  Please stay tuned!


----------



## LuYangShih

That's one way to try and kill a guy.  Rather ineffecient, though, Wishbone should've just Disintegrated him instead.


----------



## fett527

Disintegration?  Where's the fun in that?  No style, no imagination in disintegration.


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

*"There Goes our Surprise Round," or "Who Invited Trogdor the Burninator?"*

Ahem. A Poem.

There once was a Knight named Hanover
Who was not at all lucky; moreover,
He was somewhat dimwitted, 
But also committed,
And as such was known as a rover. 

This rover was always on quest,
And Oh! did his belly protest!
Fine meals did it miss,
And banquets - what bliss!
But ne’er did the knight ever rest

‘Til one fateful trip through a bog,
This knight he did hear of a hog.
A magic gold pig,
It conjured feasts big:
Fine mutton, nice cheese, and some grog. 

“What a boon for a traveling man!
I’ll get it and quick if I can!”
“But a dragon doth guard
This pig,” said a bard,
“So you’d best come up quick with a plan.”

“My plan it consists of this sword, 
Slay dragon, and pick through his hoard!
The pig I shall find -
Our fates are entwined.
Its magic shall be my reward.” 

And Oh! what a glorious fight,
A tale in which you’d delight.
But skip it we must,
In this you must trust,
For the bard he still owns copyright.

To sum up instead we will say
That then by the end of the fray:
Hanover scored one,
The Dragon scored none,
The knight was the winner. Okay? 

“No longer trail rations I’ll eat,
Instead I’ll have wine and fine meat!”
His belly grew large,
As big as a barge,
And his life, it now was complete.

‘Til one day there came a sly thief
Who snuck in as was his motif.
The knave danced a quick jig
And then stole the pig,
And left the Knight stricken with grief. 

Now the Knight he still looks for his swine,
And all over he looks for its sign.
Still looks, the bards say,
To this very day.
And this tale, well, now it is thine.

The End. 

Some quick things: Rel and Badger - please let us know when you receive your packages. They were (finally!) sent last week, and you should have them any day now. Sorry about the delay.

Right now I'm working on creating a new contest idea - I'll post it as soon as I get all the kinks worked out. 

You mean as soon as you find something else of mine to give away.

Exactly! 

By the way, Mrs. Enk is coming along well - only about another month or so before the new gamer arrives! Pictures will be posted as soon as they get developed.

I hope the baby doesn't look like you. 

Heck, _I_hope the baby doesn't look like me. Tip of the day?

Tip O' the Day: Looking for a job really sucks. 

And with that, let's get back on track.


*****

"There Goes our Surprise Round," or "Who Invited Trogdor the Burninator?"

Theo didn’t know which was worse: the glowing colors that now bathed him or the magical mouth bellowing out accusations over his head. The cleric recognized the name, Lizon had spoken of this Mistslayer as an old adventuring companion, but he didn’t have time to dwell on the story behind this magic: the three, armed opponents who turned towards him made sure of that. _That’s the way the storm cloud rumbles._

Hefting his flail and shield, the cleric braced to meet the rush of his adversaries. The dark-skinned swordsman moved in first, his sword whistling toward the priest’s own weapon. Just before contact, Ander lunged forward from behind the stacked barrels and caught the blow on his staff. 

_“Shatterspike!”_ the dark warrior yelled as his weapon made contact with the woodsman’s parry. Theo watched as the swordsman’s blade bit deep into the wooden staff. To his horror, the sword flashed and splintered the ironwood weapon into two useless sticks. Both priest and ranger stood in shock as the pieces of Ander’s prized weapon fell from his fingertips. 

The warrior smiled, reminding the cleric of a knotted tree stump carved for Festival, as his sword continued to gleam. Theo felt his stomach tighten: he and his friends were up against unknown magic. 

Behind the swordsman, Theo saw that Aurora and Ashrem had jumped out from their own hiding spots to strike the remaining pair of enemies before they could surround Ander and himself. The sorceress’ missiles burned into the dark goblin, while the feloine buried his blade deep into the unsuspecting portly man’s back.

Meanwhile, knowing that Ander was defenseless, the warrior priest knocked the woodsman aside with his shield and sent a vicious overhand blow directly at the dark warrior. The off-balance swing flew wide, but still managed to clip the swordsman’s mailed shoulder. To Theo’s surprise the warrior’s chain mail didn’t absorb the blow as it should have, but instead bounced the shot as if the armor covered a log rather than flesh. The confused cleric struggled to block the warrior’s return swing as he realized that the dark tone on the swordsman’s skin was not natural, but rather the result of druidic sorcery. 

_“Shatterspike!”_ the dark warrior yelled, once again invoking the power of his blade, but this time Theo’s weapon was his target. The sword met the flail in mid-swing shattering the head as if it were made of glass. The impact showered the priest with shards of metal and wood, driving him back away from his foe. His adversary continued to drive forward, but Ander once again moved to intercept him. 

The woodsman stood armed only with his long knife. Theo could see at a glance that his young friend’s choice of weaponry was outmatched by the dark-skinned warrior’s blade: not only by the superior length of the sword, but also by its magical enchantments. The priest turned to call for help as the ranger dodged the dark warrior’s blows, but to his dismay Theo found his friends were no better off than Ander and himself. 

The cleric watched as Aurora’s dragon missiles flew toward the female goblin only to be turned aside by some unseen force. Then the thorn bushes spilling in through the open archway rose up and entangled Ashrem as Theo watched helplessly. When the priest turned his eyes toward Pack, he saw that Meepo and the halfling danced wildly to avoid the silver sickle wielded by the rotund man, who laughed at his small assailants as he swung. “Your ashes will make a fine fertilizer to strengthen my blighted army.” 

Theo knew that he needed to do something. _Forgive me Zuras. I swore to never use your might on a living person, that they may one day be swayed to your calling, but…_* “By Zuras, I strike thee down!”*

The warrior priest felt the customary tingling along his arm as his shield gathered and dispersed the Lightning Lord’s gift. The arching blue bolt erupted from his holy totem and struck the dark swordsman across the chest, lifting him from his feet and hurling him across the flagstone floor. Acrid smoke rose from Theo’s shield and the priest dropped to one knee, exhausted - never before had he channeled such a powerful force. _Zuras smiles on us!_

***

Balsag could smell the winds change, and it didn’t take his sensitive nose to do it. From his many hiding places within the citadel he had watched them as they trekked through his hunting grounds. At first, the bugbear had dismissed them as nothing more than a nuisance that the goblins would quickly dispatch; but battle after battle they showed both strength and resourcefulness. No doubt about it, they were dangerous. Even though the demon-tree’s supplicants had the upper hand, the surface dwellers would not lose, especially if the Hunter did not add his blade to the fray.

The decision not to join the fight had snuck up on him – it almost made the bugbear laugh that it took the Hunter to sneak up on the Hunter – but when he thought about it, it made sense. The druid’s coffers grew smaller each day that his master remained trapped within his woody prison; it was apparent that Belak would soon no longer be able to meet Balsag’s price. These surface dwellers looked like his next Hanover’s Pig.

The bugbear shifted his weight and leaned in to get a better look at the action just in time to witness the Zuran blasting a bolt of blue lightning into the chest of the supplicant knight Bradford. The stroke lifted the dark knight off his feet and sent him soaring back beyond Balsag’s view. Belak and his cronies were definitely in trouble, enough trouble that the Hunter half expected to see…

There they were. A half dozen twig blights ran into the room, two of the larger ones making for the priest and the younger warrior, while the smaller ones harried the rest. The bugbear found it hard to keep track of all the combatants until Belak began burning things.

Balsag never understood how someone so concerned about plants could be so infatuated with fire, but the druid Belak certainly loved it. The Hunter heard Belak shout over the roar of battle: _“Fulmen!”_ Then the bugbear sat back to watch the surface dwellers reaction to what came next.

Belak’s sickle burst into flame on the downstroke as he tried to drive its tip into the halfling’s skull. The runt skipped aside, letting the sickle swing past but his sleeve caught fire, and then he lost several valuable seconds as he stepped out of Belak’s fiery reach and patted the flames down. Meanwhile, the kobold poked and prodded at the druid, keeping his attention away from the runt. Strange behavior for a kobold, yes, but expected from this one.

The snapping of twigs caught the Hunter’s attention, and he swung his eyes to the two shattered blights that had made for the sorceress. The girl was possibly the most dangerous of the bunch – if it came to a fight, she would have to be the first to go. A shout from out of his field of vision brought his gaze back to the pair of men fighting the two large twig blights; or more appropriately one twig blight, as the other had been beaten into a twitching pile of debris. The one the surfacers called Ander had slashed away bits and pieces from the blight still standing, but was really setting it up for a crushing blow by the priest behind it. Then Bradford barreled into the younger man, knocking him away from the rest of the fight. The priest faltered, and Balsag could almost feel his surprise as the gray haired man swung ineffectually at the remaining twig blight.

Then Belak screamed in fury. A quick look back at the druid showed that his fight against the two runts, while not exactly a losing battle, had become frustrating – he had managed to singe both of them, but had yet to set either one aflame. Balsag saw the veins on his neck rise, and narrowed his eyes as his employer, or rather former employer, shouted again.

_“Fulmenictus!”_

The jet of flame spat from Belak’s outstretched hand, and completely missed his target. The halfling had dodged nimbly aside as the druid yelled, and the tongue of flame caught one of the smaller twig blights instead. Its screams sounded like the hissing of green wood. Flailing its burning arms, it ran haphazardly all over the battlefield, distracting Belak’s witchdoctor long enough for the feloine to work its way behind her. With a quick thrust, he pushed his small sword through her neck and she collapsed in a heap.

The woodsman rushed past Balsag’s peephole brandishing Bradford’s sword: the bugbear smiled at the notion that the knight had gotten his grisly reward for his previous treacheries, and watched as the young surface dweller closed on Belak. Then it was Belak’s turn to feel the flame, as the surface sorceress conjured up a ball of fire that rolled up and over the druid.

Belak shrieked in pain and fell backward into the archway leading to the tree’s hearth, the ball following him as he fell. It rolled right over him, leaving a charred corpse in its wake, and slowly turned around to roll over him again. As it did, the dry thorn bushes on the edge of the opening smoked and smoldered, finally catching fire completely.

Balsag moved quietly away from his peephole. The flames would likely be put out by the tree’s remaining retainers before they got out of control, but for the next few hours the tree’s hearth would be smoky, hot, and inhospitable. It would be more than enough time to decide his next move.


*****


Next Time:

“Guess Who’s Coming for Dinner,” or “It’s Just Not a Picnic if the Forest Isn’t on Fire”


----------



## Rel

Great new update, guys!  I loved how Aurora ran over Belak a second time with the _Flaming Sphere_.

Also, I got my dice in the mail today!  Thanks so much for the prize.  I gave them a few "practice rolls" (not that I believe in such things - mostly).  The jury's still out on the d20's, which seem disinclined to roll anything higher than a 13.  But the d6's are very nice indeed and I think that I shall pronounce them the Official Sneak Attack Dice of Fimbul Ferryford.  He's the Halfling Rogue that I'm playing right now.

Thanks again and I look forward to more story.


----------



## LuYangShih

fett527 said:
			
		

> *Disintegration?  Where's the fun in that?  No style, no imagination in disintegration. *




Personally, I'd much rather have the effeciency and satisfaction of using Disintegration than the "style' and "imagination" of Wishbones chosen method.  After all, if you walk into the evil villians convention, do you want everyone to cheer your name, or go silent in fear?  All the style in the world doesn't mean much if your target doesn't die.

Nice update, by the way.  It's easy to Sunder things, isn't it?  At least you don't have any magic items yet.


----------



## Bubbalicious

Rel said:
			
		

> *
> Also, I got my dice in the mail today!  Thanks so much for the prize.  I gave them a few "practice rolls" (not that I believe in such things - mostly).  The jury's still out on the d20's, which seem disinclined to roll anything higher than a 13.  But the d6's are very nice indeed and I think that I shall pronounce them the Official Sneak Attack Dice of Fimbul Ferryford.  He's the Halfling Rogue that I'm playing right now.
> *




Don't worry Rel, it just takes a month or two to roll the "Curse of Enkhidu" from d20's (I would give it at least 6 months before using any of them for potentially fatal saving throws, as that is where his merest touch on a d20 is commonly most likely to have devastating repurcussions)!!


----------



## Bubbalicious

Oh, by the way Rel, don't think you can counteract "The Cuse of Enkhidu" by putting the dice under your pillow with a luck charm because the curse is too strong and will infect your previously lucky charm with it's evil!!!  Just a word of warning.


----------



## Rel

Bubbalicious said:
			
		

> *Oh, by the way Rel, don't think you can counteract "The Cuse of Enkhidu" by putting the dice under your pillow with a luck charm because the curse is too strong and will infect your previously lucky charm with it's evil!!!*




Not to mention what it would do to my pillow, eh?

Rel:  "Sweetie, could you wash this pillow when you get a chance?"

Rel's Wife:  "Why?"

Rel:  "It's got some evil on it."

Rel's Wife:  "Okaaaay."


Don't worry, I'm not about to put the fate of Fimbul in those d20's after what I've heard of Enk's luck.  Besides, I always use my oversized d20's that everybody can see really well so they can share in my joy and pain.

I will use some of the players in the RttToEE game I run as guinea pigs for these dice.  A few of them don't play very often and need "loaner dice".  I'll let those guys work the kinks out of them.


----------



## fett527

Rel said:
			
		

> *...I'll let those guys work the kinks out of them. *




Good idea Rel.  Although I really shouldn't talk right now, I've been having a pretty bad rolling streak lately.  I did at least crit in the last battle.


----------



## Bubbalicious

Rel said:
			
		

> *
> I will use some of the players in the RttToEE game I run as guinea pigs for these dice.  A few of them don't play very often and need "loaner dice".  I'll let those guys work the kinks out of them. *




Only the love and trust of the owner of the dice can overcome this powerful evil.  You should slowly work them in, over time, in non-critical situations.  After a short time, they will realize that Enkhidu is no longer their master and will show great loyalty (and tremendous critical hit power) to a worthy new owner.  Especially if you promise to taunt Enkhidu mercilessly about how well they then treat you (they seem to really love that).


----------



## Enkhidu

All right, less about the dice, more about the story - we want an update! We want an update! We want...

*looks around sheepishly*

OK, OK, we're working on it!


----------



## Rel

Enk, I know you said, "less about the dice", but I thought you and some of the others would be interested to hear about the first time the new ".Official Sneak Attack Dice of Fimbul Ferryford " were used.

I thought it was a hoot.  Then again, close to 200 other people have read it and only two thought it worthy of comment.  So what do I know.


----------



## Enkhidu

Hey! I was one of those 198! Had I known that those barbarian killers were the ones you just got, I might have said something.

[GRUMBLE]I knew I should've kept those for character creation...[/GRUMBLE]


----------



## Badger

*Dice...*

Just a quick note before I head out for watch that I got the dice in the mail on Sat. Not exactly why it took so long to get here from the day they were stamped out, but I'm blaming it all on those darn underwear gnomes...

Thanks again for the kick tail prize, and can't wait until the next chance to win more original SB prizes....

Peace amigos and if I can a few thoughts on the story to come later, but as always, the cliffhangers always leave me wanting more...

Badger


----------



## Enkhidu

Sorry about the delay, guys - spent the weekend gettin' hitched. Now "Ms. Enk" is "Mrs. Enk." 

Anyway, D'Shai and I will be finishing up the post sometime mid-week (if all goes well), and have it up by late week.

By the way, a quick note on last post's limerick: we included that tidbit because you guys are really on the ball. You'd have caught it if we used a modern phrase to get a certain idea across. Thanks for making us more aware of our language as we improve our style.

PS: this would also be a good time to ask game questions - we've gone a few weeks without a gaming session, and I'm sure that D'Shai would love to talk shop with you guys about the campaign!


----------



## Rel

First off, congratulations on the nuptuals, Enk!  Marriage is a wonderful thing, particularly if you are a disorganized slob like me whose wife helps keep life from completely falling apart.  If I was still single, I'd live alone, subsist almost entirely on pizza, canned beans and computer games and I'd probably smell funny.  Sure, I'd be happy all the time, but people would point at me and laugh.  And the sex wouldn't be as good.

I wanted to provide a brief update on the new dice with "The Curse of Enkhidu:

Over the weekend I ran the next session of my Return to the Temple of Elemental Evil campaign and I brought the new dice along.  For the most part, I didn't use them in favor of my jumbo dice, again because I roll in the open and like for the players to easily be able to see their impending doom as read on my giant d20's.  I did make use of the new dice for two occasions.

First was when the party was attacked by assassins in their room at the inn while they slept.  I used the new d6's for sneak attack damage against the sleeping Sorcerer and they rolled fairly well (though not from the perspective of the Sorcerer player).  I didn't kill him outright but he failed his Fort save against the Death Attack.  It's ok.  He got raised.

The other instance was when the Psi-Warrior was using Biocurrent on a bad guy and his d4 seemed to be stuck rolling nothing but 1's.  I loaned him the new d4 (insert evil grin here).  It also seemed to love rolling 1's but a 2 came up once, just to keep him guessing.

So thus far (and I realize that this is far from a represenative sample) I conclude that the dice aren't cursed.  They just hate my players.

I can live with that.


----------



## dshai527

Okay, since we are back from our mini vacation, Enk has asked me to answer a few questions from our readers. Since no one has asked any questions though, I am just going to use my DM abilities to predict them. Here goes…

1) Yes he smells that bad, but I have managed to live with it for the good of our writing, besides who else would do punctuation for me. 
2) Green
3) It’s my world and I can if I want to.
4) O’ about 16 years give or take a few months…1st ed of course. The entire world fits into just one binder of jumbled notes that nobody can read but me. That doesn’t count the numerous collections of Steak & Shake napkins that various notes are written on…if you include those it’s about 2 boxes of notes. I mostly keep everything in my head, but since we have started this project I have put more stuff down on paper so that Fett could share it with you. By the end of the story you should get a good glimpse of most of the known world.
5) When I get to play, I usually play a Human Ranger or a halfling thief. I don’t play very often, which is okay because I love to DM. (So far in 3rd ed I have only played a Human Psion and a Half-orc Bard [Crothian’s Whispering Woodwind Game at the Ohio Gameday])
6) The most fun….watching Enk over-analyze the plot and dismiss every clue because its too easy (I make the plots super thin sometimes just to piss him off), or shooting arrows at any of Fett’s characters. I also enjoy weird magic items that are extremely powerful, so powerful that the players are reluctant to use them or Jon (Worm) decides to break them. 
7) At one time the gaming group had about 12 players at the table so we ended up switching to two groups.
8) My favorite character would be a hard call. I put a lot of time into each one. I would have to say that when Enk and I played the two wandering entertainers, that would be the most fun I had playing, although the DM is still in the mental ward at the hospital. Everyone’s favorite pirate (Besides the Cat) Lord Barak D’Shai would be my all time favorite character though. 
9) The current group? Hmmm, I would say that Aurora would probably win just because my wife plays her and I don’t like sleeping on the couch, but if someone else were DMing my money would be on Meepo, just for the pure comedy of it. Seriously, if Worm was the same level as the rest it wouldn’t even be a fight, plot magic items excluded. If they were allowed to prep the field before combat then each would shine in their own element. 
10) –60 something I think…it was 2 Worgs and a Winter Wolf surprising the character and the round after they won init they each proceeded to crit on at least 2 of their attacks each. It was nasty. Before that Enk actually held the title…something to do with a hellhound attack and falling off the 4rth floor and then the burning tower fell on him. 
11) Aside from the one-shots and short games this is the 4th major story arc to take place in my world. Each story arc lasts a few years of actual play and about 85 years of game time has passed total. This includes the year that has passed in the current story.
12) Yes, I will try to get Fett to post the map online so that once the Sunless Citadel plot ends you can follow the path of our heroes. He may even show you the original (Artifact map and the current world map. Heroes are hard on an ecosystem when given powerful magic)
13) The future for our heroes? They’ll laugh, they’ll cry and a few will even level up. 
14) The epic battle from the last story arc was the best (Now entitled “With this ring…”). It was like a great action movie, everything happened so fast that you were just left in awe and only remember the really big events. I wish I had that session on tape so I could replay it over and over. The fight lasted for hours and there were only 2 players involved. Man what a night!
15) The Steelers! They were robbed last year.


Well, I hope you have enjoyed this Answer session and if you have any questions just think about them really hard and I might answer them. (For best results, post them while you think about them.)


----------



## Dawn

Congratulations on the marriage.  It’s a good thing.  Always remember that!  Finally found my good thing (only took me three tries).

Still love the different perspectives in the storytelling.  You may have answered this already, but do you use notes from the particular players or your own to narrate from each view?


----------



## dshai527

We actually just rely on memory. Between Enk and Myself we usually don't forget too much. We also let any of the players who wish to read the post beforehand to catch errors or look for things we missed or excluded. So far its worked but once we finish the module section it will get a lot trickier as things move much faster and cover more ground.


----------



## Bubbalicious

*The Curse of Enkhidu*

Again, Rel, if you really want to witness the curse, the character's life should be on the line.  In the interest of science (okay, actually more superstition than science) use the d20's for potentially disastrous saving throws.


----------



## Rel

*Re: The Curse of Enkhidu*



			
				Bubbalicious said:
			
		

> *Again, Rel, if you really want to witness the curse, the character's life should be on the line.  In the interest of science (okay, actually more superstition than science) use the d20's for potentially disastrous saving throws. *




I was sorely tempted during Tuesday night's game.  My jumbo d20 was KILLING me (almost literally).  We were trying to recover a pirate treasure and finding it protected by lots of traps.

# of successful Disarm Trap checks made by Rel's Rogue (out of 7 attempts): 1

# of successful Reflex Saves after failing those checks: 0

I nearly pulled out those dice then.  I figured, "How much worse could it really be?"

Of course, it also occurs that the GM was the same guy whose Sorcerer I killed in the RttToEE game over the weekend.  Coincidence?  Hmmmm.


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

*“Guess Who’s Coming for Dinner,” or “It’s Not a Picnic if the Forest Isn’t on Fire"*

Do you have anything to say?

Nothing comes to mind. 

I suppose that means I don't have to deal with a Tip of the Day?

Its like I'm in some weird Bizzaro dimension 

Why?

Because for once in my life I have nothing to do. I have a whole day to be lazy and do... nothing. I didn't even have to listen to you until now. 

Well, heck. If I knew you were just bored I'd have had you reorganize my 8-track collection. Of course, then all of my tapes would have had "Lisa Lisa and the Cult Jam" written on them in red Sharpie, but that's the price you've got to pay.

Does ABBA come before or after Englebert Humperdink? 

Well, at least it will keep him busy for a few hours. Got a TotD?

Tip of the Day: 

When planning a trip from Gatlinburg to Dayton, make sure to leave lots of extra time for when the geniuses of road construction block off the entire interstate. 

I'll second that one. And now...

Damnable donut eatin', pothole fillin'... 

*****

“Guess Who’s Coming for Dinner,” or “It’s Just Not a Picnic if the Forest Isn’t on Fire"

Pack rubbed his shoulder absentmindedly as he scanned over the pile of armor, weapons, and oddities before him. Even though Theo had laid his healing hands upon the halfling’s burnt and blistered skin, his arm still felt raw, like tenderized and scorched meat. 

Theo had spread himself thin trying to assess everyone’s wounds and tend to the most pressing ones; as it stood, he had nearly exhausted whatever grace Zuras provided until the next sunrise. Pack supposed it was Tone’s Fortune that the underground forest had burst into flames along with the crazy druid; the fire may have kept the group from moving forward, but it also protected them from whatever lay beyond. 

Reaching out, Pack selected the first item from the trove just so that he would stop scratching his raw shoulder; it was the goblin female’s stick, tossed haphazardly on top of the pile of booty. Then the bard began to hum, and in response the stick began to glow a repeating rainbow of colors. _Well, it’s definitely magical. Time to find out what it does._

Slowly, the bard’s hum moved up and down, searching for the exact pitch that would match the magic trapped in the wand. When he reached the upper end of the scale, the wand’s rotating color slowed and stopped, finally glowing a brilliant green. _Transmutation… and no pulse, so its not arcanic._ Having seen Ashrem getting grabbed by the vines spilling through the archway, the halfling had an inkling of the wand’s true function. Hopefully Ashrem had seen how the gobliness had activated it, but even if he hadn’t, Pack was sure he could figure it out with some time and practice. 

Pack let his hum fade into a simple ditty as he scanned the pile for more magic. There it is; the long sword wielded by the wooden warrior shone brightly from beneath a sleeve of chain link. With practiced patience, the bard matched tones until he traced the signature of the enchanted item. The long sword itself was a masterful piece of craftsmanship, despite its simple design, and by the pure white glow of the blade the halfling knew that it was magically strengthened for combat. Small wisps of blue caught the bard’s eyes hinting at some minor evocation magic sealed within it. _Probably the magic that shattered Theo’s flail - Shatterspike indeed! I wonder if this could be the sword that Everyn Bradford the Bladeringer used to win the Court Championship ten years ago. How did the ballad go? ‘and the crowd stood in awe as the Silver Knight’s sword cleaved through the Captain’s own blade, shattering it as it had every other opponent’s sword.’_

A splash of color out of the corner of his eye broke Pack’s concentration on the sword. When he turned to look, he saw Aurora magically mending Ander’s staff. Mesmerized by the magical display of colors seeping out of the young woman, the halfling watched the sorceress as she took her time perfectly positioning each piece of the intricately carved staff before reforming the wood with her magic. When the spell was complete, the sorceress handed the completed weapon back to Ander, whose relieved look told the halfling that the staff was more to him than just a simple staff. 

However, rather than follow the ranger, who limped off and began testing his mended staff, the halfling’s eyes remained fixed on Aurora; though she had completed her spell, a strong magical aura still lingered around the young lady. Pack had seen mages before - he had even studied a few while his Tonal Sight was invoked - but never had he seen a spellcaster glow so long after the effects of her spell had ended. 

Suddenly, the bard realized that he had never seen Aurora using the normal trappings of the mystic arts: no components, no large tomes filled with archaic writings. Questions swirled inside the halfling’s head, but the bard could feel his throat tightening and knew he would not be able to see the magical flow for much longer. 

Turning his attention back to the pile of booty, Pack noticed the handle of the silver sickle peeking out from underneath the wooden warrior’s armor. _This should be interesting, considering how much the fire hurt._ Drawing it from underneath the chain mail, he began his musical search for the magical essence of the blade, but even after several runs over the blade, the bard was still unable to locate any signs that the weapon was enchanted. _It must have been a spell of some kind._ The halfling shrugged his shoulders and lowered the sickle back to the floor, but before he finished his wordless tune, he saw the real dweomer. The black leather gauntlet lay just a few feet away, still adorning the hand of its dead master, and the halfling saw that the glove was unscathed by the flames that had claimed the life of its owner.  

Crawling forward, Pack pulled the glowing glove off the dead man’s hand. As it came away, he noticed an intricately branded pattern of flames ringing the cuff.  He continued his humming, homing in on the correct tones to discover the key to its powers, until the flames seemed to dance along the leather surface, finally flaring up and blinding him. The stunned halfling dropped the glove, rubbing his eyes as the world shifted slowly back into focus. “Gods on high,” he mumbled, “that’s powerful! What was it that he said? Falmen-neck-ties? Flumen-nick-toes? _Fulmenict_…”

“I cannot believe you think that, Ashrem! He fought with us!” Aurora’s voice shook the halfling’s spine, and he turned to see her facing the Ashrem. The scout had his arms crossed, and had a look that made Pack’s toes curl.

“I do not need, nor will I stand here and take, a lecture about the dubious virtues of the kobold.”

“He has a name!”

“Aurora, _it_ is dangerous. _It_ is in pain. And it would be better for all concerned if we were to simply leave _it_ here to die peacefully.

“How dare you!” Pack took a few steps back from the sorceress. He had never seen her this angry about anything. “Meepo has been nothing but loyal…”

“To you, Aurora, to you.”

“And now that he’s hurt, you just want to leave him here? What kind of person are you?”

“Young lady, I am the kind of person who would prefer to see the last precious bits of healing Brother Theobald Hillshire has at his disposal go to a competent, loyal, and trusted companion rather than an unreliable and beastly whelp who is unwanted by even his own tribe.”

“He’s not beastly, and he is wanted! I want him here, Pack wants him here.” She pointed at Pack as she said his name; Pack’s eyes got wide – he didn’t want to be drawn into this fight. “Theo wants him here, and Ander wants him here!” 

Ashrem reacted as if she had slapped him. “As Ander is the one who really needs Brother Theo’s attentions, I find it repugnant that you name him as one of your supporters! Without keeping our most able warrior in top shape, how can we expect to do what we all came here to do in the first place? How can we…”

“Please!” Ander limped in between the two, motioning for the pair to calm down while he continued in a quieter voice. “It’s not my idea of a good time to have to break up fights between my friends. You’re both right. We can’t ignore what Meepo has done for us, but at the same time we can’t just overlook what he is. Look, I don’t exactly relish the thought of having to decide who gets healed and who doesn’t.” For a long moment, everyone in the chamber held their breath, so when an alternate answer came from a voice outside the room, Pack nearly jumped out of his skin.

“Maybe you won’t have to.” The voice behind Pack was so deep it made Theo sound like a soprano. Pack whirled around as he heard weapons behind drawn and readied. A tall and broad goblin wearing an antlered helmet stood in the archway, his hands raised to show they were empty._ No, not a goblin – it’s too hairy and big to be a goblin, and the nose looks more like a bear’s_. It continued speaking as is strolled into the room, “I have a good faith gift for you that might make the decision easier.”

Pack took two steps back for every step the huge goblin took and still lost ground as he backpedaled. Ander stepped in front of the halfling with his staff raised and spoke. “I would stop moving if I were you. We have you outnumbered, and we have no desire to spill any more blood this day.”

“Very poetic Woodsman Ander, but I hardly think numbers matter with the shape you are all in.” The huge goblin squatted down, coming to rest in a crosslegged seat: it was obvious to Pack that the goblin had no fear of them. “Don’t look so surprised, I’ve been to the surface world enough to be aware of the titles used for one of your talents. I am called Balsag, Balsag the Hunter, both above and below the surface. And I don’t mind telling you I have met very few people as gifted as you and your companions.”

“How do you mean?” Ander said, still standing defiantly between the goblin and the rest of the party. 

“First, put your weapons away, and then we will talk…” When nobody moved, the huge goblin continued, “…or we can fight. I’ve watched you since you entered the Citadel and I can tell you that you are no match for me and my friends.” 

The halfling backed up further as the giant goblin waved his arm and a pair of the oversized rats scampered into the room. These two vermin looked exactly like the others that the group had been plagued with since they entered the underground castle, except that they were larger and well groomed; they looked almost like hunting dogs owned by an exceptionally proud hunter.   

“My pets and I could have attacked you at any moment since you entered our realm,” Balsag said as he scratched on of the rats behind its ears. “I must not have made it plain enough: I am here to bargain with you, not kill you. So please, sit and speak.”

“Is that a command?” Ashrem growled, moving to stand near Ander.

“Easy, Ash,” Ander said, “I think we should hear what he has to say, but I also think he’ll have to do it while we have weapons drawn if he wants our attention.”

Pack could feel the tension rising in the air as Balsag stretched and made himself comfortable before continuing. “And I thought that feloines were noted for their hospitality; I guess the legends were wrong. Very well, if that is how you wish to begin this hunt, I’m game.”

“You said you were here to bargain,” Ander said, cutting off the retort Pack knew was forming on Ashrem’s face. 

“Not really. At least not yet. I’ve seen you fight, and I must say that I am impressed. It will be very interesting seeing how well you fair against the root of the blight that has snuck into your world.”

“You mean the Demon Tree?” Pack could hardly believe that he spoke, much less that he continued to pelt the goblin with a string of questions, ‘What is it like? Can we beat it? Does it have a weakness? What color is it? Has anyone else ever fought it?”

“Slow down, minstrel! I can only answer so fast. Besides, we have yet to discuss my payment for this information.” 

Ashrem growled dangerously. “So the leopard has revealed his spots. Forget his game Ander, his information smells of something rotten.”

Balsag’s head snapped toward the scout, “Then I will reluctantly watch you die. I am amazed that someone who lives behind a mask can be so judgmental of those that don’t. I guess I shouldn’t expect anything more seeing how you treat poor Meepo even after all that he has done for you.” The eyes under his shaggy brows twinkled in the firelight as he continued, “I know what you surface dwellers think of my kind, but I have never hunted one of yours: and that’s not because it hasn’t been offered!” 

The Hunter paused; Pack could almost see him fighting to keep his temper under control. “Now I offer one last time to take me at my word and not my face. I can help you. As a token of proof I offer this apple to you.” With a flick of his wrist the large goblin produced a large golden apple. 

“An apple?” Pack asked, “What good is that?”

“This is no ordinary apple, minstrel. It comes from the very tree that you seek to destroy.” Pack watched as the huge goblin’s other hand produced a dagger and began carving up the fruit. When the hunter was done the apple lay dissected into eight equal parts, the last of which he tossed into his gigantic maw. “As you can see it is not poisoned. What it will do is cure your wounds and renew your spirits.”

Pack watched as Ander stepped forward to collect the remaining seven pieces and distribute them. Balsag continued, “A side effect of the magic that holds the demon trapped within. However, as the fruit ages the magic begins to rot until the apple turns black and delivers death instead of health.” 

“And how much does this cost us?” 

Balsag paused before answering, allowing Pack and the others to watch Ander swallow his slice of the apple. “For the apple? Nothing. Consider it a taste of the kind of assistance I can offer. As for the rest? I’m glad you asked…” 

The smile on the Hunter’s face didn’t make Pack feel any better.

*****

Next Time:

“Against the Grain,” or “Can’t See the Forest for the Tree”


----------



## Rel

Very well done.  I like how you used Balsag.  When I ran SC, he got killed out of hand as part of a big melee at the bottom of the vine filled shaft.  Your portrayal of him has much more style.

Kudos.


----------



## Dawn

Excellent use of Balsag.

I too had him involved in the fight at the base of the vines.  Too bad.  I like your method much better.  Portrays him as very intelligent.  Intelligent monsters scare players.  I like it!


----------



## Ashy

Great job, as usual, gang!    I really loved the Tonal Vision - top shelf, suren!


----------



## dshai527

Just wanted to let everyone know that the next installment may be delayed by a few days because Mrs. Enk may have a special delivery for Enk within the next few days. 

     

We will keep everyone posted on the expected arrival of the new roleplayer and I will try to have pictures up as soon as I can. If everyone can wish/hope/pray for everything to go smoothly I know Enk and Mrs. Enk would appreciate it. 

     

Til then just post your speculations on the outcome. Boy or girl
and what class the newbie will start with. 

I vote A little girl and she will be a rogue that steals Daddy's (and God-Father's) heart.


----------



## Rel

dshai527 said:
			
		

> *Til then just post your speculations on the outcome. Boy or girl
> and what class the newbie will start with.
> 
> I vote A little girl and she will be a rogue that steals Daddy's (and God-Father's) heart. *




Congratulations, Enk!

It seems he is among the rare few (like me) who decided not to find out the gender in advance (unless he already found out and isn't telling).

My guess is: Girl, 6lb 7oz, Expert 1 (specializing in Crying, Cuteness, Pooping and Pooping A Whole Lot)

Mine, now 21 months old, has multiclassed into Monk, her speciality being the Headbutt.  I keep telling her that if she takes another class later, she can't go back to Monk per the PHB rules.

She wants me to Rule 0 the Monk multiclass restrictions.

She's such a munchkin.  


All my hopes to the Enkhidu family for a safe delivery.


----------



## fett527

Whether it's a boy or a girl I just hope the child looks like Mrs. Enk.  We'll be better off that way.

Regardless the kid will be a rules lawyer.


----------



## Dawn

Here's to wishing all three of you the best!


----------



## Dungannon

Congrats to Enk & Mrs. Enk.  I'm gonna put my guess in for a little boy who will start out as a sorcerer who specializes in casting Charm Person.   That way he'll be near impossible to punish for the bad things he does because he does them in such a "cute" manner.


----------



## dshai527

Hey Dungannon with me around to corrupt...er I mean help, the kid will be doing all kinds of things to get into trouble. That's why Enk tried to ban me from ever seeing the child, but Mrs. Enk overruled him. Hehe. Its good to have friends in high places.

It's also good to be the king.


----------



## dshai527

Just wanted to give everyone an update on Little Enk. 

The Doctors have not yet induced the labor due to some complications, but so far everything is okay. They have determined that Little Enk is a Boy, approx. weight right now is a little over 6 pounds (and he is just over the 8 month mark). The doctors are waiting right now to see what happens, but on current pace they will induce tomorrow at about 5 PM.

If everyone could just keep thinking happy thoughts, I know everything will come out fine.


----------



## Rel

Thanks for the update, dshai.

Mrs. Rel had to be induced about a week before the due date because of Pregnancy Induced Hypertension.  She was induced at 6 PM and I've got to tell you, it was a long night.

If you get a chance to talk with Enk, just tell him one thing:  If by chance he gets a couple hours of sleep and if by chance they wake him up and say, "It's time to push.", and if by chance he wants to ask, "Do I have time for a quick shower?", the answer is going to be "NO!!"

Or just tell him that we're all sending happy vibes his way.


----------



## dshai527

Just so all our readers know, Little Owen was born at 6am this morning and both mother and son are doing fine. So lets all hear it for the little tyke and his family. 

Congrats Enk!


----------



## fett527

And there was much rejoicing!


----------



## Rel

dshai527 said:
			
		

> *Just so all our readers know, Little Owen was born at 6am this morning and both mother and son are doing fine. So lets all hear it for the little tyke and his family.
> 
> Congrats Enk! *




 

I desperately hope that his wife wasn't induced on the evening of the 22nd as was predicted by fett a few days ago.  Going into that 3rd day of labor couldn't have been any fun.

In any event, I'd like to say, "Welcome to the world, Little Owen.  We hope you enjoy your stay.  "


----------



## fett527

Rel said:
			
		

> *
> 
> 
> 
> I desperately hope that his wife wasn't induced on the evening of the 22nd as was predicted by fett a few days ago.  Going into that 3rd day of labor couldn't have been any fun.
> 
> In any event, I'd like to say, "Welcome to the world, Little Owen.  We hope you enjoy your stay.  " *




When did I predict that?  (Just curious, don't remember)

She was first induced Wednesday morning and did not give birth until early this morning (Friday) so Mrs. Enk went through a pretty rough time.  We all hope she is resting well and that Enk gets some rest too.  I'll let Enk give anymore details when he feels up to it.


----------



## Rel

dshai527 said:
			
		

> *The doctors are waiting right now to see what happens, but on current pace they will induce tomorrow at about 5 PM.*




Sorry, fett, it was dshai.

fett, dshai, enkhidu.  No wonder it gets confusing.  Can't you people just have normal names like bob and joe and bob?

Rel


----------



## Ashy

Blessings upon you all, congrats to Enk, wishes for speedy recovery and rest for Mrs. Enk and a warm welcome to little Enk.  

We are all very happy for you.


----------



## fett527

Rel said:
			
		

> *
> 
> Sorry, fett, it was dshai.
> 
> fett, dshai, enkhidu.  No wonder it gets confusing.  Can't you people just have normal names like bob and joe and bob?
> 
> Rel *




or Rel?


----------



## Rel

fett527 said:
			
		

> *
> 
> or Rel? *




Yer kinda' steppin' on my sarcasm there, man.


----------



## fett527

Sorry


----------



## Black Bard

Congratulations Enk!!!
And welcome aboard, Owen "Little Enk"!!!


----------



## Enkhidu

OK! Quick update while I'm at home getting a shower and a clean set of cloths:

My wife and son have had one heck of a week! Recap in a nutshell - my wife and I arrived at the hospital on Sunday night/Monday morning, they tested her and decided to induce labor on Tuesday, a 12 hour attempt at induction failed on Wednesday, the second attempt on Thursday caused her to begin labor, but after about 18 hours with no progress (and several other complications I won't go into for those readers who want to believe that childbirth is "magic", like D'Shai) they decided to take my son by C-Section. So now my son will be able to fulfill all those prophecies about "men not of woman born" because a male doctor actually performed the operation. Cool!

Anyway, my wife is recovering from her C-Section right now, and my son is sleeping peacefully. Under the circustances (complications, premature baby, etc), I couldn't be happier and more relieved. Once I can take a pic of him that I feel is fit for public consumption (as in one where he is not hooked up to monitors left and right), I'll try to get it up here.

Thanks from both me and Mrs. Enk for all your well wishes, good thoughts, and prayers (except the ones to those elder gods - if pseudonatural creatures show up at my house asking for hair from my sons head for some unnatural cthonic ritual, I'm going to be pissed, dammit).

See you guys again soon!


----------



## Enkhidu

Well, things are slowly but surely coming together on the home front, so if I were you, I'd expect to see another (albiet short) post sometime late this evening!

See you then.


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

*“Against the Grain,” or “Can’t See the Forest for the Tree”*

In the interest of setting a good example for my son, who will be coming home from the hospital an day now, we have decided to take a different direction with our installment introductions.

Lightning Bolt! 

This is a new, more responsible, Enk & D'Shai.

Lightning Bolt! 

So from now on, expect a certain amount of decorum, sobriety, and civility in these posts.

Lightning Bolt! 

And in addition...

Lightning Bolt! 

I would like to say...

Lightning Bolt! 

that...

Lightning Bolt! 

Would you please stop doing that?

Doing what? 

Saying "Lightning Bolt." 

Then how about a Tip o' the Day: 
If you LARP, it might not be a good idea to film it. 

That was... interesting.

You're interesting, if interesting means "stupid." 

You're stupid!

You're stupid! 

You're stupid!

You're stupid! 

You're stupid!

You're stupid... 



*****

“Against the Grain,” or “Can’t See the Forest for the Tree”




“Here we are.” 

Ander knelt down and squirmed his way forward through the dense underbrush, closely following the goblin that had brought the ranger and his companions safely thus far. Balsag had led the group through the smoldering forest while avoiding contact with the shambling twigs that he said still fought the remaining pockets of fire: Ander couldn’t find a reason to stop trusting his guide now. When he came even with the goblin, who like the woodsman was now coated with a thick black ash, Ander pushed aside the soft branch to get a better look at the hill that would serve as the battlefield for the assault against the demon tree.

The hill rose up so that a tree line formed around the base, leaving the slopes empty: free of even the brambles that covered the rest of the underground forest floor. Sitting atop the steep hill like a king looking over his subjects was the twisted black form of the demon tree: its blackened bark outlined against the cold glowing moss covered ceiling. The leafless oak was gnarled and twisted, its main trunk covered in knots that gave it the illusion of a hundred mouths howling in pain. The only spots of color were several golden fruits that hung from the thick arm branches that stretched toward the hanging stalactites.

“Remember, I cannot help you in this fight, woodsman,” Balsag whispered from beside the young man. “My previous agreement with the tree’s lackey Belak keeps me from supplying you with anything more than information at this stage.” 

“Too bad your agreement with the tree’s keeper didn’t include protecting him too. Bad for him, good for us.”

“I told you once, Belak bargained poorly. Your halfling friend was much better.”

 Ander paused, thinking that Balsag might have more to say on the subject. After a moment, he continued, “I trust you’ll honor our agreement?”

Balsag turned his large shaggy head to look directly into the ranger’s eyes. “I have never broken my word. I don’t plan to start now.”

The young ranger shifted uncomfortably as the goblin stared at him. He had seen that look once before, last Festival, when a southerner had called one of the Icemist barbarians a liar. The southerner had ended up dead. “Just keep those goblins from coming down here and interfering,” Ander said, letting out the breath he didn’t know he had been holding.

“As long as three hundred gold lions cross my palm when I have safely delivered you to your destination, all will be well, Woodsman Ander.”

“First battles first Balsag. What more can you tell me of the demon?”

“Ah yes, ‘know your prey,’ the first rule of the hunt. Very well, but I suggest we join your companions so that I do not have to repeat myself. They may well offer additional insights into areas where my knowledge is limited.” 

The ranger nodded his agreement and crawled after the goblin back towards the others. As much as his instincts told him not to, Ander found that he was beginning to like this giant goblin; he reminded the woodsman of his old teacher – Wrothgar wore his opinion on his armor too. _Still_, Ander reminded himself, _there are differences: ones I need to remember. _

When the two trackers returned to the group, Ander found everyone battle armed but waiting patiently. Ander spoke first, before anyone could ask any questions, “The battlefield’s fairly open, but before we talk about plans, I’ve asked Balsag to give us more information about the tree. I suggest we listen to what he has to say, but even he says he might have holes in what he knows. If you have something to add then speak up. Balsag?”

Balsag crossed his arms and spoke, “To fight this tree, I think you must first know what it is. Since most of you appear to be too young to remember the war, I will start there, but I will omit unnecessary details to avoid debate over who is responsible for what.” Ander heard a sniff from Theo at this remark, but Balsag continued.

“In the conflict that you surface dwellers call the Dread War, the Lords of the Nether Realm gained access to our world by the will and power of the Dreadlord. Generals of the demon princes were able to march whole armies onto what was once known as the Talbin Peninsula, and from the great tower there they were able to begin a bloody march westward.” Ander looked around his circled companions – from the look on Theo’s face, the priest knew a great deal of this already. “These demon armies laid such waste to the kingdoms of Ion and Tor that only by combining their strength were they able to hold off the invaders. You surface dwellers think that it was this alliance that destroyed the demon army, but we underfolk know better.”

“The allied army was only able to hold the demons at bay long enough for a secret enclave of magi to permanently close off the gateways between our world and theirs, trapping the demons here.  For the demon’s Generals this was just a nuisance that kept them from returning home, but for the lesser evils this was a death sentence. These demons were now mortal. When the gateways closed their flesh was made whole in this world. Now when the blades of man bit into their skin it was real. No longer were they merely banished: they were destroyed. Forever.” Ander saw Pack’s eyes grow wide; he imagined the bard was already composing the tale of _The Heroes of Icemist and How They Defeated the Demon Tree. _

“When the rank and file of the demon’s army realized this, they panicked: soon the threat of final death from the armies of Ion and Tor had them in retreat. The Generals gathered what was left of their armies and fled deep into the heart of the world, for what purpose, no one knows. This demon was once a part of that army, but unlike the others he did not escape the war without wounds: wounds that would not heal.” Out of the corner of his eye, Ander caught Ashrem stroking his cheek, tracing the scars beneath his hood. “In an act of desperation he merged with this tree, feeding on its energy and trying to heal his wounds. For now it acts as his prison. Soon it will give birth to a new body for him. If you strike now, while it is still weak, you might have a chance to kill it.”

“How weak is it?” Aurora asked.

“Although I don’t know what it was like before it fused with the tree, I know that it was more powerful than it is now.”

Ander picked up the questioning, “What are its weak spots then?” 

“It can’t move. It does retain some of its magic, though, so you can’t just sit back and shoot it: not that it would do any good. Its bark is as hard as steel, but once you cut away this layer of protection it is still just a tree. It can be burned.”

Pack’s voice seemed very quiet and small. “So what you are saying is we have to get in close and then cut away its bark and then light it on fire?”

“That would be your best course of action, but remember it will have twig blights to aid it, and it can create more of them.”

Ander saw all eyes turn on him, and the woodsman knew it was time. “Okay. Theo - you and I will be in charge of dealing with the blights; your flail and my staff have the best chance to destroy them. Ashrem, you and Pack have to find a way to get through its bark so that Aurora can roast it. Meanwhile Aurora, you need see if your missiles can cut through the tree’s hide. Otherwise help Theo and I until you are needed. We’ll also be counting on you for any help against whatever magic this thing has.”  

“One last thing,” Balsag remarked as he turned to leave. “Belak had a large frog, about the size of a hound. I did not see it during your earlier battle so it must still be around. I will be back when the battle is done, and then I will fulfill my part of our bargain.” The goblin moved nearly silently away, back the way the companions had come.

Ander eyed each of his companions, and saw in their face a determination he had not seen before. Even the kobold Meepo shared their fire, almost as if he understood what was about to happen. The ranger fixed his gaze on Theo. “Brother Theo, with your blessing?”

The aged cleric smiled grimly and prayed in a whispered voice that matched his eyes. “Lord Zuras, tempest and the storm, grant us your might to strike our enemies without mercy for their deeds, but not without compassions for their victims. Let our steel be the thunder of your voice even as our arms are the lightning of your retribution.” Ander felt a prickling on the back of his neck, as if lightning were about to strike. “My friends, let us speak for all those that no longer have a voice because of this demon!”

The woodman’s blood boiled in anticipation, and he felt as if his skin was on fire. It was time.

“Let’s hunt.”

*****

Next Time:

"The More the Merrier," or "More Fuel for the Fire!"





You're stupid...


----------



## Enkhidu

Double post. Imadoofus.


----------



## Ziggy

Excellent, glad you are back. Hope everything is beeing sorted out at home so your avid readers can get their fix again 

Very interesting read, I've seen this module played in a couple of stories before, but this is by far the most believable. Love how they scout and plan before the battle, something many parties forget (often with dire consequences).

.Ziggy


----------



## Rel

I'm glad to see you guys are back in the saddle.  I am really looking forward to the next update to see how they handle the demon-tree.

As a side note, I recently made a commitment to get off my creative duff and finish my own story hour.  I'm hoping to get a new post up sometime over the course of the weekend.  I would be honored if you would care to read it at your convenience and give any commentary you feel appropriate.  Of course I understand if time is tight right now with family concerns for Enk.

But the rest of you have no excuse!


----------



## Enkhidu

*BABY PICTURE!*

Little Enk is safely in his mother's arms in the next room at this point, and I have a picture for you:


----------



## Bubbalicious

Are you sure that's a human child?  Looks rather Gnomish!


----------



## Rel

He's a cutie.  And he looks remarkably unlike Winston Churchill for a newborn.

Our daughter had her picture taken in the hospital and whenever we look at it now we think the caption should be, "You kids get out of my damn yard!".  It comes complete with her shaking her little fist.

Fortunately she got over that stage fairly quickly.


----------



## Mrs. Enk

*Thank you!*

Hello everyone.  Mrs. Enk here.  I just wanted to take the time to thank everyone for thier kind words and encouraging comments during the pass several weeks.  

I know that many of you want the boys to spend more time posting and I hope that will pick back up soon.  

So once again thank you all very much.  Myself and Little Enk are doing just fine and will keep you updated as time goes by.


----------



## Rel

*Re: Thank you!*



			
				Mrs. Enk said:
			
		

> *Hello everyone.  Mrs. Enk here.  I just wanted to take the time to thank everyone for thier kind words and encouraging comments during the pass several weeks.
> 
> I know that many of you want the boys to spend more time posting and I hope that will pick back up soon.
> 
> So once again thank you all very much.  Myself and Little Enk are doing just fine and will keep you updated as time goes by. *




You are very welcome, Mrs. Enk.  Congratulations again on the birth of your child.

As for Enk and d'shai posting further updates to the story, of course we are eager, largely due to the fact that your husband has a tremendous writing talent.  But we (I think I can speak for everyone ) are also appreciative of what a special time this is for your family.  So enjoy and know that whenever the guys get a chance for a story update, the fans will be here.

Give Little Enk a hug from all the gang here at EN World and tell him we said congratulations on having such great parents.

Sincerely,

Rel


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

Whew! You go to try to update the story hour with an Interlude and the board crashes. Then you finally throw in the towel and post it over at Nutkinland for the truly desperate (read "Rel") and the board comes back up just minutes later.

Hope this whets your appetite - look for the wrap up of Small Beginnings Part 2 sometime early next week, with Part 3 starting soon after!

*****

Interlude


The Shimmering Sword burst through the twig beast, breaking its slight wooden body into still twitching pieces. “How many more?” panted Worm as he wiped cold sweat from his brow.

“Why? Are you tired already?” Abil said as he sidestepped a lunge by the thicket creature he fought. “Your ‘brother’s’ luck must have rubbed off on you, for these are the last of these infernal beasts. Dueca and his pet greenskin cooper must have the other attack contained.” The captain had abandoned his rapier during the first attack: now he wielded a thin but heavy truncheon that darted out and caved in what passed for his foe’s head. He wielded the club just as he did his sword: easily, gracefully, and without working up a sweat – Worm hated him for it. “If we take care of this bunch, we might get back to Lizon’s before the others.” 

“Good, then there’ll be more stew for us!” Good food always brightened Worm’s day, especially his mother’s recipes.

“Just the kind of remark I would expect out of a tusk-faced fool. Now move your sword greenskin, not your mouth!” Abil punctuated his remark with another strike to his foe’s chest crumpling what, on a human foe, would have been ribs.

Worm roared in answer, hacking through one of the beasts. In the press, the two warriors had been pushed almost back-to-back. _Just one swing – I could say it was an accident. ‘No Reeve, my sword slipped while we were in the fight…’_ The half-orc grunted as he swung through another of his foes. _No, Lizon wouldn’t believe it for an instant, even if everyone else did._

A sudden nudge unbalanced the large warrior as Abil pushed him aside to fell another knotted invader with a well-placed truncheon blow. “Watch your shield side boy! I won’t fight for the both of us.” 

A dozen of the small beasts remained and even though Worm wielded the Shimmering Sword with his massive strength, the half-orc warrior found he was unable to match the skill and precision of the snide sheriff. For every bramble that fell to his mighty swings Abil dropped two, his thin club moving almost unnaturally as it bashed wicker limbs. At one time, Worm was convinced he saw Abil’s weapon in two places at once.

When the last of the twigs fell, Worm stood mopping his brow with the hem of his tunic until Abil interrupted him, “I told Dueca that teaching you was a waste of time - all that strength and not the brains to use it. The runt would be better suited to wield that sword.” With a slow shake of his head the Sheriff turned to leave.

Worm’s blood still boiled from the fray, “Enough!” the giant roared. The young giant was surprised to hear his own voice. He had often daydreamed about confronting Abil, but had somehow always been able to rein in his temper. _No, that’s not right. I’m not the one who stopped myself from tearing into that bastard, Pack was..._

The nobleman stopped in his tracks and slowly turned toward the young man. “What did you just say, boy?” The sheriff’s usually silky voice had grown a hard and dangerous edge. 

“I…” Worm was at a loss. In his daydreams he always had a curse or accusation to throw Abil’s way, but now, when he actually had the opportunity, he didn’t know where to start. “I…”

“You said nothing, boy. It was only the wind on the thicket.” Abil had closed the distance to the larger youth like a cat circling prey. It made Worm uncomfortable. “You said nothing at all. Correct?” The half-orc could tell it wasn’t a question.

Worm held his breath as he thought, _What would you do now, little brother? Should I hit him? He deserves it…_ Worm squeezed his empty hand until the knuckles turned white. _But if I do, it might come back on Lizon…_

A moment passed without a sound. “I’ll take that as a yes, boy,” Abil advanced until he was almost chest to chest with Worm “But let me tell you something. I’ll speak slowly in order to get it through your thick, green skull.” Abil’s eyes bored into the half-orc’s, even though Abil had to crane his neck skywards to make it happen. “You are a muscle-bound oaf, without sense enough to know how to speak to your betters. If it weren’t for that wench who calls herself your mother, I’d have already thrown you out of this backwater village, back when you pushed over the switching oak. But I tell you this, Lizon or no, if you give me half a reason I’ll see you strung up on the gallows I had made from the tree you wrecked.”

“No Abil, you listen…”

A shadow passed over both men as some nightmare of twig and brush rose from the thicket. It roared, its cries the sound of a broken tree falling to earth, and leapt at the pair. Abil retreated as the mammoth twig beast pursued him, striking ineffectually at its long arms as it closed. Worm felt the sword in his hand snake out and slash the beast, but the blade passed through the outer layers without slowing the monstrosity. _Useless!_

As large as Worm was, the beast was larger. It was easily twice as broad as the half-orc, and a good head taller. Like all the other twig men, it had arms, legs, and a head, but no face.

Suddenly, the beast pounced on Abil, grabbing the nobleman and bringing him close. Worm could almost hear the sound of ribs cracking as it crushed him as if it were Orloff himself. He hesitated for an instant, and then dropped the Shimmering Sword and leapt onto the giant thicket.

The twig beasts roared again as Worm shoved a hand underneath its arm and pried loose the hold on Abil. “Hit it, damn you, hit it!” Worm saw the sheriff escape from the creatures grip, and begin swinging with his truncheon. One, two, three hits later, the beast batted Abil away, sending him flying through the air.

Worm grunted, _Looks like this one is up to me._ Worm wrapped his arms and legs around the beast and squeezed. The wood beneath his limbs groaned as the beast toppled to the ground and the wrestling began in earnest. 

He had wrestled before, at festival, against the barbarians that came down from the mountains, and he had won. He had fought a dozen drunken louts at the Shimmering Sword, and won. But as the beast began to bring its power and size to bear, he began to feel what it was like to lose. 

The beast’s thorns pricked his skin as the raked over his bare arms, and its talons raked at his face. Worm answered by lifting the twig beast off the ground and slamming it into the hard packed earth. He felt the tearing of muscle as he did it. 

He had felt the tearing of muscle when he wrestled the barbarian champion, yet he had fought through the pain and used his strength. The barbarians had called him the Dragon because of it – the Wyrm. He had won that fight, _I AM THE WYRM!_, and he would win this one.

Worm drove the beast into the ground, ignoring the barbs stuck in his skin as it thrashed to get free. Then Abil was there, hammering blow after blow into the beast’s head until it collapsed and tore away, exposing a pulpy heart beneath it. “Kill the thrice-damned thing!” Worm heard himself groan. Abil struck one last time, cracking the woody organ.

Worm stood up after extricating himself from the unmoving pile of brush. He brushed himself his arms clear of thorns, and bent over to retrieve the Shimmering Sword. When he rose, Abil stood before him.

The nobleman stood silently for a moment. Worm wondered if he planned on continuing their argument. “We should get back to the inn,” the sheriff said, looking first at the woody corpse and then at Worm, “yes, we should get back.” Then the smaller man wiped a thin sheen of sweat from his brow and turned quickly away.

Worm watched as the smaller man walked quickly away. _He’s afraid of it still. Why? It’s not like… No, that’s not it._ The realization hit Worm like a warm ray of sunshine. _He’s afraid of me. I could get used to this, if anyone were here to share it with. 

I wish Pack was here…_


*****


----------



## djrdjmsqrd

*Hello.*

Thought I would delurk for a sec and give my thanks for a great SH, and ask for it to pray onward, with more things posted here and in the RG...

Djordje


----------



## Ashy

Excellent job as usual guys!  


Oh, and BUMP!


----------



## Corwyn

A bit late, but as they say better late then never. 
Congrats with the little one!!

And a little bump to keep this on page one where it belongs.


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

*"The More the Merrier," or "More Fuel for the Fire!": Part One*

Hi everybody! My Daddy and his friend are too busy to post this thing they spend their time writing while I sleep. So I decided to post it for them.

Here is the Tip of the Day:
Poopy diapers really stink.

Well what did you expect! I'm only six weeks old!

Here you go! Happy nursing! 


*****

"The More the Merrier," or "More Fuel for the Fire!": Part One

***

_I wish Worm was here..._

Pack dodged sap-covered claws as he ran around the trunk of the demon tree. For an instant, he half expected his muscular half brother to step out from around the blackened trunk and hew his pursuer in half with one fierce blow from the Shimmering Sword. Instead the bard nearly ran into the twigling’s waiting talons, spurring him to retreat backwards faster than he ever thought himself able. 

It seemed as if half his life had passed since he and his friends began their assault on the twisted tree: for most of that time, Pack had been on the run from one menace or another. _Gods I hope I never get used to this!_

The moment the small band rushed the tree, a half-dozen twiglings had erupted from the thickets, isolating the companions in ones and twos and stalling their charge. Pack alone had managed to get all the way to the tree, where he found that his lucky dagger couldn’t pierce its armor-like bark. Ander had almost made it, but just as the woodsman had reached the base of the tree’s hillock, the giant frog from Balsag’s warning bowled into the ranger, knocking him away. Worse, Pack soon saw that the frog wasn’t just a frog, but a flame tongued fire toad. Now man and beast fought a springing, hopping battle that stopped the woodsman from giving battle orders: orders, Pack soon realized, on which he and his friends had come to rely.

A stray root caught Pack’s heel and sent him tumbling to the ground. The fall knocked the wind out of the bard, and his head rang from contact with another root that he had not seen. With the ground spinning beneath him, Pack shook his head and tried to get his bearings, but the grunts and cries of combat swirled around him and he found it hard to concentrate. Almost too late, he remembered why he was running as the shadow of the twigling loomed.  

Pack wriggled as the beast approached, claws extended. He opened his mouth to scream, but, for once, nothing came out. When it finally reached Pack, it let out a sound like a bundle of twigs being snapped and reached for the halfling. 

Its chest burst as two dragony missiles of pure magic plowed into its back. It fell in two pieces, one on either side of Pack.

Pack raised a hand to wave to the young sorceress and hopped to his feet, taking in the battlefield and trying to decide where he might be needed. Theo and Ashrem fought back to back, surrounded by three more of the twigs: the priest seemed to be faring well with his chosen weapon, but the feloine’s sword looked useless against his woody foes. Aurora and Meepo, on the other side of the thicket covered forest, were doing much better - Meepo wrestled with one of the beasts as another, one with a spear shoved through its head, ran towards the sorceress only to be blasted by a barrage of her missiles. Ander, alone against the toad, looked the worst by far; singe marks covered the woodsman’s armor as he danced through the tree line trying his best to avoid its flame-coated tongue. 

Though Pack knew that Ander needed help the most, one look at their running battle told him that his short legs would not be able to keep up with the fight. With a frustrated huff, the halfling turned to help Ashrem and Theo so that they could in turn help Ander. 

_And so the Mouse freed the Lion, that the Lion could save the Lamb…_ In a better time, Pack might have laughed at how well the old children’s tale fit, except that this mouse had no way to free his two lions. _If Ash’s sword can’t hurt them my lucky dagger surely isn’t good enough! _

Pack looked about frantically for something, anything, that could help him, and in his desperation shrugged off his rucksack and dumped it on the ground. He dug through the pile, discarding bottles, jars, pouches and other brick-a-brack until he came upon the thick leather glove he had taken from Belak. Without hesitation the young bard scooped up the glove and raced to aid his friends, pulling the leather gauntlet over his hand as he did. _I hope I can remember the right words!_

The glove firmly in place, Pack pointed his open hand at the nearest blight, just as Belak had pointed at Ashrem. “_Fulmanudle_.” Nothing happened. “_Fulmunect!_” The creature turned Pack’s direction and started toward him. “_FULMENTICTUS!_”

***

End of Part One

*****

Next time:

"Part Two", or "Daddy changes diapers"

See you soon!


----------



## Rel

Yay!  I just got back from vacation today and I get an update right off.

Very exciting battle.  When I ran my wife through SC, this was a tough fight for her and her little hodge-podge band.  So far it looks like the Small Beginnings crew is hanging in there too.

I look forward to the rest.


----------



## Enkhidu

Hi all!

If I were you, I'd look for the last post for Part 2 to be up this week. In the meantime, this would be a good opportunity to ask questions in the Rogue's Gallery thread. We'll do our best to answer them!


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

*"The More the Merrier," or "More Fuel for the Fire!": Part Two*

Nothing to see here. Just move along. Its just the end of the Second Act. C'MON PEOPLE MOVE IT!

*****

"The More the Merrier," or "More Fuel for the Fire!": Part Two


_ “FULMENTICTUS!” _

A strange tingling sensation spread down the bard’s arm, and suddenly he felt as if he had plunged through river ice in the middle of winter and then immediately been thrown into Onkus’ forge. A stream of fire poured from Pack’s outstretched hand, burning the unsuspecting twigling. Pack felt a cold sweat bead on his brow. 

Two more jets of fire spewed from the glove in quick succession, each burning a twigling. As he mopped his brow with the hem of his tunic, the halfling could feel Theo and Ashrem staring at him. “Hurry Ashrem, Ander needs help!” he croaked, his throat parched from the heat emanating from the glove.

Ashrem started at the bard’s voice, and the feloine loped off to aid their commander, leaving Theo and Pack to check on Aurora and Meepo. That pair didn’t seem to need any help, and the halfling saw the sorceress trotting over to meet them. Behind her, Pack saw Meepo jumping up and down on the husk of a twigling.

“Oh Pack, you are okay? I was so worried! One moment I saw you on top of that hill and then you were gone! I thought maybe my missiles hadn’t stopped the twigling attacking you, why didn’t you tell us you got away?” Pack hung his head in mock shame for a moment, and looked up at Aurora with puppy dog eyes. She patted him on the head as if all were forgiven, “Where are Ander and Ashrem?” Her voice trembled as she looked around, and just as she looked ready to bolt into the trees to look for them Pack heard a shout and the sound of a tree falling.

“That’s it, Ash! Now, while its trapped!”

“They’ll be along shortly, lass.” Theo’s basso always had a calming effect on Pack; suddenly, Pack wasn’t worried about his friends. _ It’ll take more than a big frog to get the Heroes of Icemist! _ It seemed to have the same effect on Aurora, and a tiny smile grew out from the corners of her mouth. 

“Shall we then?” she said, gesturing toward the tree, standing alone and defenseless on the hill.

“Now?” Pack rasped.

“Why not?” Theo answered, “With luck we’ll have it burned away by the time the lads get through with that great hopper.” 

By the time Pack had reached his discarded knapsack, filled it, and shrugged it onto his shoulders again, Theo and Aurora had reached the base of the tree. Meepo tottered behind them. The kobold dragged his spear behind him: it still had the remnants of a twigling head fixed on its steel tip. 

Pack watched as the old man and the young girl examined the tree, seemed to reach an agreement of some kind, and stepped back a half dozen paces. Then Aurora unleashed her mystical missiles at the tree. The halfling took that as his cue and began hustling up the hill to get a better look.

The draconic volley exploded in a shower of sparks and black bark. “Hit it again!” Pack heard Theo roar, and Aurora let loose another pair of missiles as the halfling approached the older man. Pack could swear that he heard the tree groan from the impact. _ No, not the tree…the ground. _

Suddenly, the earth in front of the aging cleric burst open as a horde of new twiglings erupted from the packed soil. The new saplings were smaller than the others and layered with a thick coating of tree sap, but within a single breath, Pack and Theo found themselves surrounded.

Claws tore at the halfling, opening thin wounds along his arms and legs as he tried and failed to reach Theo and the safety within the priest’s whirling reach. He could feel his gorge rise from the fear as he was dragged to the ground kicking and punching at his wooden attackers. Only the glimpse of Ander and Ashrem racing up the hill to save him kept him from a full panic. Instinctively, Pack curled himself into a ball and put his oversized pack in between himself and the worst of the saplings’ attacks. Then, just as the woodsman and his shadow leapt over the last bramble bush before the clearing, an apple, withered and bruised until it was the color of midnight, dropped from the demon trees highest branch to land between the just arriving pair.

It erupted like a keg of Buried Dwarf Rum caught fire.

Time seemed to slow for the halfling as Ashrem and Ander flew lazily out of his view. Clods of dirt pattered on Pack’s pack as they fell back to earth. From behind him, he heard the slow, high pitched keen of Aurora screaming in pain. He turned his head and saw an endless sea of claws. So Pack did the only thing he knew. He closed his eyes and sang. 

The words, at first, were random and meaningless, and Pack groped for them as if deaf. He sang without a destination as sap and blood ran around him, until he realized he was singing a warrior’s song. But not just any warrior’s song, his warrior’s song: the Ballad of the Heroes of Icemist. Each stanza fell from his lips ringing out the deeds that had been done; not by a legendary hero or a god, but Pack and his friends. And with each chorus, Pack felt his resolve rise and his courage return. _ I do not need saved! I can save myself! _

_“FULMEN!”_ he cried, and activated the first power of the fire gauntlet that he had seen the deranged druid use. The glove burst into flame, coating the halfling’s hand and lucky dagger with the elemental fury of Woden Hammerhand. Pack wasted no time passing Woden’s Fury to the stick creatures that bore him to the ground. Soon the bard lay beneath a raging bonfire of burnt twiglings as their sap coated bodies crackled and popped in the licking flames. 

Pack burst from the smoldering pile, pausing just long enough to realize that, except for the hand that wore the glove, he hadn’t felt any effects of the flames. Smiling fiercely at his newfound knowledge, Pack leapt onto the nearest sapling, thrusting his flaming fist into the creature’s brambly hide until it too burst into flame. Twigling after twigling fell to the bard’s fiery hand, until he stood on the sloping battlefield surrounded by small campfires and piles of ash. Then, Pack heard the crackling of wood as he saw Ashrem, Ander, and Theo smash away a large layer of bark leaving the tree open for Aurora’s flaming sphere.

Pack hummed to himself as he composed the next stanza of his ballad: 

_Then it wailed, yes it wailed, like a dread banshee,
And its fruit, blackened fruit, we found so deadly.
But it fell, yes it fell, the Dark Demon Tree,
At our hands, the hands of Icemist’s Heroes we!!_

*****

COMING SOON!

THRILL!!

As Small Beginnings moves into its own story line!

SEE!!

WORM ON ICE! 

(No, he's not back in yet...)

EXCITE!!

To our heroes rolling badly! All the time! Even attack rolls! And Saving throws... and warms ups... and Saving throws... and skill checks... and saving throws... especially saving throws! 

Did I mention Saving throws! 

He really loves this stuff, doesn't he?

MARVEL!

As Ander says...."I don't think that would be wise!"... and the group doesn't listen!

So don't miss out - order now!

Limited time offer. Void everywhere. Except Utah. We like Utah.

Did I mention Saving Throws?


----------



## Rel

Woot!  Great ending to the SC!  I'm very glad to hear that Ander and Ashrem survived the "fruit bomb".  I was worried for a second there.

Glad to see that you guys are still getting a chance to get together and update sometimes.  I know from first hand experience that kids can throw a monkey wrench into that schedule.

Eagerly waiting for more.


----------



## Ashy

Bravo!  Bravo!!!

Hey, if I can write with four on board, they can do it with one!


----------



## Jon Potter

Curse you, double post!

Curse you!


----------



## Jon Potter

*Excellent!*

Very well done, guys!

Well worth the wait.

But one small question: What do you mean by 'THRILL!! As Small Beginnings moves into its own story line!'?

I assume you mean the campaign's moving into homebrew adventures rather than published ones. Am I correct?

Once again, this was an excellent read! I've really enjoyed it so far, start to finish


----------



## Rel

Hey, Jon Potter, I just noticed where you are located and wanted to point out that we are getting ready to do the next NC Game Day if you'd like to attend.  The thread about it is here:

http://enworld.cyberstreet.com/showthread.php?threadid=53030


----------



## Enkhidu

Well, Part 2 is all wrapped up, and Part 3 is on the burner cooking as we speak. Things at my house are falling into a routine now (Little Enk is about 2 months old now, so it was bound to happen sooner or later - hooray for sooner!), and we might actually get a bit more time to post.

In the meantime - 

_For Jon_: That "THRILL!" line was alluding t the fact that the Sunless CItadel is now over and done. D'Shai closed the book after this seesion, and we started moving in other directions. Directions, you will soon see, that are far more dangerous and complicated that we've been before.

_For Ashy_: If you're still planning on heading through Dayton on your way to Indy come GenCon, let D'Shai or I know either in the thread or via a PM. We need to start thinking about what to do and stuff! 

_For Everyone_: I've been keeping a master document of posted material for Small Beginnings Part 2. If anyone would like it in its raw form (as in I haven't had the time to make it all pretty-like), I'd be happy to send you a copy - we'll likely also be able to post Part 2 in the Story Hour Gallery that Morrus keeps available here. Part One already up there. Be warned: Part 2 weighs in at about 85 pages in 10 pt Tahoma!

_Also for Everyone_: Just a reminder that D'Shai and I love questions about the SH, and Fett likes answering mechanics questions in the Rogue's Gallery thread. 

By the way, D'Shai and I are mulling over doing annotation for the Story Hour, mainly to get the readers completely up to speed with the players (as we sometimes have to leave bits and pieces out in order to just get on with the plot and character development). Sometimes I think we forget that you don't know the campaign world as well as we do. 

Anyway, if we decide to do this, what format would you - as readers - like it in?

That's all for now! See you again with the Beginning of Part 3 soon!


----------



## fett527

*BUMP*

Let's get this back up there for now.  I posted a little piece in the Rogue's Gallery, link in the sig.


----------



## dshai527

Uh Hi, 

Long time no see. Yeah, I know that's my fault. The good news is though that I have found employment. It is an hours drive each way every day but it pays well enough and I needed to get moving again anyway. Also, Aurora and I are almost set to move into our first house. Yep, we bought a house two days before I got my job offer in the far away land. We move in Oct 15. What's all this mean to you? 

Well it means that Small Beginnings will be updated soon. With any luck.

Just thought I'd let you all know how we fare right now. Enk can do his own update..although little Oiey is awfully cute....by the way Enk's b-day is this week so wish him well. Happy B-day Enk...what am I getting this year?


----------



## Rel

Congratulations on the new house and job!

Happy Birthday to Enk!

And I look forward to the story hour being updated when you get the chance.


----------



## fett527

_*stage door slowly creaks opens and shuts loudly*_ 

_*light footsteps echo on the slick hardwood stage*_ 

_*fett527 steps into the spotlight and taps mic*_ 

Is this thing on?  Hello?

_*pause as the words echo across auditorium*_ 

Ahem.  I would like to anno...Seriously, is anybody out there?

_*fett527 strains against the glaring stage lights peering into the audience waiting for any replies*_


----------



## Rel

fett527[I said:
			
		

> *fett527 strains against the glaring stage lights peering into the audience waiting for any replies*[/I]




_*way in the back, a pair of hands starts clapping*_

"That was a hell of an intermission!  I finished my popcorn about 6 months ago.  But I still can't wait for the second half to start!"


----------



## Dungannon

It's about time you showed up.  This popcorn went stale _hours_ ago!


----------



## LiVeWiRe

Is it true....intermission is *over*?!

If so, (fresh) popcorn and (fizzy) soda is on me!  

-LW


----------



## Rel

Dungannon said:
			
		

> It's about time you showed up.  This popcorn went stale _hours_ ago!




*shakes head*  Nobody posts to this thread for 7 months, fett pops in and posts and Dungannon and I both post at the EXACT SAME MOMENT, TWO HOURS LATER and make the SAME DAMN JOKE!!   

I don't know what that symbolizes, but, well...somethin'!


----------



## fett527

_*sigh of relief that the seats aren't all empty*_ 

As I was about to...

_*flinches from mic feedback*_ 

Can we turn this down just a little?

_*fett527 checks mic*_ 

Teste- ok I won't do the Beavis and Butthead thing.

Without further delay I would like to announce the return of Small Beginnings......this week.

So please stay tuned.  dshai527 and Enkhidu make their triumphant return to the ENWorld Story Hour Forum!


----------



## Rel

fett527 said:
			
		

> [IWithout further delay I would like to announce the return of Small Beginnings......this week.
> 
> So please stay tuned.  dshai527 and Enkhidu make their triumphant return to the ENWorld Story Hour Forum!




Woot!!


----------



## Fulcan

[Yelling from the back]
alright, I knew I was waiting around for something.


----------



## Ziggy

A sleepy vioce suddenly emerges from the back rows...

"Hey, keep it down, I'm trying to sleep here"   

.Ziggy


----------



## fett527

_*fett527 taps mic again*_ 

Could the owner of a black Chevy Nova, license plate EDF-527, please see one of the ushers.  Your lights are on.  Thank you.


----------



## Jon Potter

Wahoo!

I've really been hoping this one would rise from the ashes!


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

*Have Halfling will travel*

Um, hello. My name is D'shai....and...I'm ...well... I'm a procrastinator. 

Wow that wasn't too hard. Your turn.


No, that's OK. You go ahead. I'll do it later.

Your blocking Enk. Deep breath. Come on you can do it.

My name... My name is Enk, and .

I just can't do this.

YOU"LL DO IT AND YOU"LL LIKE IT OR I"LL CUT YOUR HEART OUT!

Did we end up at Anger Management class instead?

No, thats next wednesday. Let me check the palm pilot

Look I keep telling you, just because you take your mini-etch a sketch and sharpie "Palm Pilot" on it doesn't make it state of the art.

Ohh look we're missing the Flash Gordon and Clash of the Titans double feature down at the IMAX. Hurry up!

Obviously we should have attended the ADD group instead.

Flying blind on a rocket cycle! D I V E!

Just give the Tip of' the Day - otherwise we might miss the previews for the new remake of Jason and the Argonauts

Tip O da Day - Never set a deadline, when death is on the line!

Shut it, Vizzini, and push the button.



*****

Small Beginnings Part III


"The Beginning of the End of the Beginning" or "Making Enk Cry"


The Hunter watched as the surfacer woodsman placed a hand on the feloine’s shoulder. “Don’t do it, Ash – we’re outnumbered two-hundred to one down here,” he murmured, “put it away.” Balsag doubted that any of the other patrons of the Bloody Foot heard as the slightly built feloine let his short sword quietly rasp back into its scabbard. It had quickly become apparent to the bugbear that what little leadership this rag-tag group of surfacers had came from the brown and green garbed woodsman named Ander.

“I can still smell the blood of men on them, Ander.” Balsag sniffed as the gaggle of goblins passed by the table. The kitten was right, they’d been hunting the surface recently by the look of it, and the still wet stains on their armor had the odor of man. The feloine had a keen sense of smell – he’d have to remember that if things went sour between the Hunter and his new employers

The bugbear thought for a moment; it wasn’t as if he ever thought he’d be working with a group so untested, so green. When he first saw them in the underground fortress, the group of surfacers – a feloine, a halfling, and three humans, two male and a female – had looked almost laughable: easy prey for the Hunter and his pack. They looked even more hopeless when they added the kobold’s favorite whipping post, Meepo. But something had stayed his hand when they looked at their worst, and when they later defeated his previous employer, the druid Belak, he found himself giving them a sort of grudging respect. The feloine and woodsman, Ashrem and Ander as he now knew them, had proven to be competent enough scouts, while the other two humans, Theo and Aurora, were potent enough spellcasters to put Balsag’s teeth on edge. Even the runt had surprised the bugbear, driving such a hard bargain for Balsag’s services that the Hunter was still unsure if he’d been outfoxed. 

Separately, Balsag was sure they would provide no match for him should they break their deal, but together… 

“Balsag?” The bugbear turned to look at the be-backpacked halfling tapping him on this side. “Who’s that?” The runt pointed toward a tall, lean human entering the tavern common room. Balsag recognized him immediately.

“That’s Captain Vithseer. I wouldn’t cross him. He’s even more dangerous than I am.” 

“Is he friendly?”

“Master Pack, the long answer is that I am not well enough informed about your ends, nor those of you comrades, to answer that question.”

“What’s the short answer?”

“No.”

The halfling looked about to say something else when he was interrupted by the woman, Aurora, “Isn’t that Erth?”

“Who?” the older man, Theo, rumbled.

“Erth. The gnome we found when we freed Meepo’s clanmates. Remember?”

Ashrem growled softly, “How I wish I could forget.”

“Ash, let it drop for now,” Ander’s voice had a note of finality, “it’s not the time or the place.” The bugbear heard the annoyance in the woodsman’s voice and knew it for what it was – suppressed fear. If the woodsman truly wanted to avoid a fight, though, he’d have to keep better control of his baser instincts. One slip – even in the relatively peaceful underdark trading town of Tradesway – could mean painful death.

Balsag joined the conversation, “It wouldn’t be a good idea to draw too much attention to yourself down here, so I’d keep it a little quieter if I were you. Now who is this person you’re so concerned about?”

The woman – the sorceress – continued, “Erth Snydenose. We rescued him when we freed some kobolds captured by the goblins.” She raised her arm and waved before her companions could stop her. Balsag followed her gaze to see an unkempt and apparently unarmed gnome working his way through the crowd. Erth looked up at the woman, and then at the Hunter, and made an arrowline for Vithseer, where he began whispering in the Captain’s ear.

“I know Erth,” Balsag said, “He was once part of Belak’s men. Came down from the north with Belak and a few others to find out why the kobolds were behind schedule in getting their master sap from the demon tree. When Belak decided to stay, Erth left. Truthfully, I thought he was dead.”

“Bones!” Ander growled. “All this time and he’s been working for the kobolds’ master! I can’t believe it!” The woodsman seemed ready to get up from the table, and for a half second, Balsag wasn’t sure his new employers would live beyond the next hour. Now it seemed to the bugbear that it was Aurora’s turn to quiet the woodsman. She took his hand and squeezed, and he calmed visibly, until he looked at the hand holding his and nearly jerked it away with a start. Humans always acted like they were in heat.

“Time enough for that talk later, lad,” the old man rumbled, “I can feel the sun setting. We should get some sleep soon, if we can find somewhere safe.”

“You should be able to find a place on the outskirts of town. There are a dozen empty buildings that you could use. You might have to kill the current occupants to get a good one.”

“I’d rather us not kill anyone we don’t have to,” said Ander.

“Suit yourself. As for me, I’ll take my leave. As I have already fulfilled my end of our bargain, I will consider it concluded when you deliver 300 gold coins to me.”

“As we agreed – 300 King’s Crowns delivered to the Icemist barbarians right after spring thaw. Payment in full for misdirecting the goblins and safe passage through the gnoll caves to the undercity of Tradesway.” 

“Payment in full,” the bugbear said.


*	*	*


Balsag crept along the side of the building and peered around the corner just in time to see the back of the ogre stomping toward the shelter the surfacers had selected. The hulking beast bellowed as he closed on the ramshackle hovel, “Who is in me home! Little runts in me home! Stomp ‘em! Mash ‘em! Smash ‘em good!” He repeated his refrain in giantish, in goblin, and even in broken Torian as he kept time by thudding his great club into the stone wall, “Stomp ‘em! Mash ‘em! Smash ‘em good! Stomp ‘em! Mash ‘em! Smash ‘em good!” The brute rounded the corner, still bellowing in what might have been a sing song voice for an ogre, while the Hunter followed, staying in shadows when he could. 

When the ogre reached the opening of the surfacer’s hut, he roared in his native tongue, “You in me home! YOU GET OUT!” As Balsag drew nearer, he heard Ander shout, but the woodsman’s voice was drowned out by the ogre’s yells, “YOU GET OUT!” The bugbear scuttled into an alcove that sheltered him from sight while giving him a good view of the front of the building.

The Hunter settled into his spot just in time to see the ogre clamp a hand on its thigh, blood trickling out from between its beefy fingers. The feloine that had stuck him dodged nimbly aside as the ogre batted at him with his club, and took up position on his left, while Ander flanked the brute. A flash of bright light smacked the ogre in its chest, and Balsag heard both chanting and singing from within the ramshackle building. 

The beast roared in pain and struck the woodsman with a backhanded blow that staggered the woodsman. He rolled with the blow, and spit blood, but returned one blow with another as he swung his staff into the back of the ogre’s knee, buckling one leg just enough to allow the feloine on the other side to bury his black short sword in the ogre’s other leg. More flashes of light burst in its face, and then a bolt of lightning struck the beast full in the belly. Over all the noise, Balsag heard the distinct sound of the runt’s thin, reedy voice as he exhorted his comrades.

Ten seconds later, Balsag watched the ogre topple to the ground, one more gaping wound in its back from the feloine. The thud of the brute’s corpse on the stone floor reverberated throughout the tightly packed buildings. Balsag strained to hear the surfacers as they filed out of their shelter to stand around the body.

The Hunter watched as the old man checked over the woodsman – from the way he moved, Balsag could tell he had at least a pair of cracked ribs – and began healing his hurts. Meanwhile, Pack and Aurora looked over the ogre’s remains. “What should we do about this?” the girl asked.

“Leave it as a warning,” the woodsman said, “and get inside to get some rest.”

Satisifed with Ander’s statement, the bugbear moved silently away from the group, carefully picking his way through the streets and alleys of Tradesway until he was out of both eye and earshot of his latest employers. As he moved his pack closed in around him, the dire rats nuzzling his legs for attention. He bent down to roughly ruffle their fur and scratch them behind their dirty ears.

Watching the surfacers fight had been instructive. They had handled the ogre with ease. He had expected they would – Balsag had chosen the ogre carefully from his many contacts – but he needed to be sure. And the surface dwellers had passed his test easily, showing both the prowess and ruthlessness required to go where they were going and come back alive: important things for an employer a mercenary expected to work with many times in the future.

“Yes my friends,” the Hunter sighed, “I believe our Hanover’s Pig has finally come.”


*****

Next Time:

"This Space for Rent," or "It's Good to be Back!"


----------



## Ashy

Bravo!!!  Bravo!!!


----------



## GreyShadow

Great stuff to have you guys back!

Now, is there any chance of the next update being somewhat sooner than christmas? 

Cheers


----------



## dshai527

GreyShadow said:
			
		

> Great stuff to have you guys back!
> 
> Now, is there any chance of the next update being somewhat sooner than christmas?
> 
> Cheers




What, you don't want a Christmas present?   

We just felt the pace of the story needed to slow down a bit. Yeah that's the ticket. No, really we already have several posts ready and we intend to keep going full speed ahead. We are getting a bit better organized and mean to get Fett more involved with stats and maps and extras as well. So not only will you be able to read the story, you can live the story.


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

*Do Not Open Til X-Mas*

...He shoots, He Scores!! And the crowd goes wild. *Applause*

Time to post the story...

You haven't been much fun lately Enk. Its like you worked hard on the story or someting.

Time to post the story...

You're like the dunkin donuts man of story hours...or a story zombie.

Pooooooosts... POOOOOSTS!

Ahhh! A zombie! DIE!!!! 

*gratuitous violence*

Uh Enk, you can move now!!

*gratuitous laying still*

I better push the button.

*gratuitous rigor mortis setting in*

*****

"This Space for Rent," or "It's Good to be Back!"


Ashrem crept back over the ridge and silently slid down the sharp embankment. When he hit the ground, he moved quickly toward the alcove in which he had left his friends. He sniffed the air as he moved, more out of habit than of conscious effort, and suddenly became aware that he had not yet rid himself of the stink of goblin and the other savages: an odiferous reminder of the his time spent in the hole called Tradesway. 

Even now, he could not understand why Ander had chosen to not only deal with the bugbear, but follow the beast’s advice and place all their lives in its grubby, if dangerous, claws. That they had survived did not matter; traveling through Tradesway had been dangerous, distasteful, and, in Ashrem’s view, unnecessary. While their time in the caverns below had been dangerous – they had encountered not only a strange creature that fed on steel (which had “eaten” both of Ander’s swords, the wood-skinned warrior’s Shatterspike as well as the rusty blade had from the kobolds) but also a quartet of well armed centaur ants identical to the type that attacked Icemist – spending any amount of time in that bestial cavern town was by far the more disagreeable. Yet, he supposed, dealing with the goblins, gnolls, and other savages was worth it to follow the woodsman to which he owed his life. 

The feloine stopped for a moment, looking over his shoulder to check for signs of followers, and then glided across the uneven cavern floor. He rounded the corner and entered the dark alcove. “Hold your steel. I have returned,” he said, and watched Theo’s flail lower slowly to the ground. The scout was fairly sure that the weapon’s head would have been buried in his own had he not identified himself. 

Pack stepped forward, taking from the folds of his tiny cloak a small ceramic lamp only just capable of revealing his companions. Ander started interrogating him in low tones, “What are we looking at, Ash? I want general layout, numbers, everything. Don’t leave anything out.”

The feloine replied in a hushed voice. “Of course, Ander.” Ashrem paused for a moment and looked at his commander – had not the woodsman discovered that the scout rarely left anything out? “Though I dare say you won’t like what you hear.” 

“Give it to us anyway.”

Ashrem squatted, keeping the balls of his feet under him, and motioned Ander and the others to do the same. Ander mimicked the feloine, while Brother Theo stood over him. Aurora knelt down beside the woodsman, while her pet kobold stood close beside her, alternately looking around nervously and gazing at the girl as if she were a warm hearth fire. Pack simply sat himself on the ground and fluffed his rucksack like a pillow, hunkering down as if he expected this to take some time: Ashrem suspected he would be right.

“Over that ridge,” the feloine began, “is a small city, easily ten times the size of Icemist, that rests in the middle of a giant crater. It is in the shape of a great wheel, with spokes leading out from a natural rock formation and moving directly away from it and up the walls of the crater. Each spoke is a major road and leads to a number of smaller roads that connect the spokes.”

Ander interrupted him, “How is it guarded?”

“I will answer that in due time, Ander, but for now I am not leaving anything out.” Pack snickered - a bit too loudly for Ashrem’s taste considering their surroundings - and the feloine continued. “The city is lit – and for that we should be grateful to whatever gods watch over us – by a type of luminous moss with which I am not familiar, though several bonfires have been lit at crossroads within the city proper. Most streets seem to be well paved, though some look to be still under construction. I cannot be sure of how many areas are under construction until we get a closer look. However, getting a closer look may prove difficult.”

“What do you mean?” Theo had lowered his voice from his usual thunder to something less loud, but Ashrem could still swear he felt the priest’s voice rather than heard it.

“Brother Theo, the streets are covered with kobolds and grey skinned dwarves, and at least some of them are armed. Additionally, regular patrols consisting of four centaur ants – the same as the ones we fought both in Icemist and again on the way toward our present position – circle the rim of the crater. I can’t be sure of how many patrols are in the rotation.”

“Armed the same?” asked Ander, rubbing the long scar across his shoulder that was the reminder from their latest encounter with the axe wielding ant-men. 

“I am afraid so. Each patrol looks identical to the foursome we dealt with earlier. I fear that the ones we were forced to dispatch may be missed.”

“Then we should move quickly,” Theo rumbled.

The scout glanced at Ander as he continued. “I concur, though for a different reason. At the hub of the city is a high walled stone keep still under construction. Just to the right stands a pyramid-like temple,” Ashrem paused as his gaze shifted from one companion to the next, “with a blood soaked altar resting on top. I suspect that below that altar is where they are keeping the slave pens.”

A stunned silence hung over the group like a heavy blanket. “Are you sure it was blood on the altar?” Aurora asked in a softer tone than needed even for their surroundings. 

“That is a thing of which I am most certain,” the feloine said carefully. He had nearly forgotten that he no longer traveled with a corps of battle hardened warriors, but with at least two companions full of naïve optimism. After a pregnant pause, he continued “I am also certain that by Brother Theo’s reckoning we have another four days before the new moon. If Yusdrayl’s information is correct, then I believe the children are still alive.” Ashrem glanced at Pack and Aurora; his optimistic observation had made little impact and they were still visibly shaken. _Nothing to be done of it now._

He continued, “I think that we may be able to skirt the outer guards if we…” Ashrem was cut short by an unintelligible outburst from Aurora’s pet kobold.

Aurora shushed the beast, speaking quietly but firmly in its raspy, sibilant speech. “Meepo says he knows how to get us into the city,” she translated before diving back into her conversation with the kobold. Ashrem wordlessly stood and walked outside the alcove; if the little beast had a plan, the scout was positive that it didn’t bode well for the companions. 


*****

Next Time:

"Is there a Gravedigger in the House?" or "What Level is Raise Dead Again?"



*gratuitous making the donuts*


----------



## Enkhidu

Hi all!

D'Shai and I have been talking about how we want to continue after wrapping up Small Beginnings, and came to the conclusion that one of the biggest reasons we continued to write this dang thing is because of our readers. In a lot of ways, you turned what was initially a writing exercise into something that we looked forward to doing every week. So I guess I should begin by saying that I'm sorry that we weren't able to get back on track with this thing sooner - I blame it on that stupid "life" thing getting in the way.

Anyway, as you should have gathered by now, events in Small Beginnings are coming to a head and the end is in sight. That means that Small Beginnings will soon be wrapping up permanently (though the exploits of the Heroes of Icemist, as Pack styles this crew, will just be beginning), and we'll be moving on. That's where you guys come in:

What we'd like to do is find out from you what story telling changes you'd like to see (if any). Do you like the ever shifting POV? Do you like the limited third person style? Are you getting bored with character exposition? Do you want more/less crunchy bits? Do you want more/less Gamespeak? Do you prefer your Pebbles Fruity or Cocoa? Basically, we're looking for feedback of all sorts because ultimately our goal is not only to entertain ourselves, but to also entertain _you_.

On a side note, I have a fully annotated version of the Story Hour (at least parts 1 and 2) done, detailing bits and pieces of the campaign world that are mentioned in the story hour but never explained - would anyone be interested in getting their hands on this? And if you would, would you like it to include crunchy bits in it as well (like stat blocks, magic item descriptions, racial info, and maybe even some Gamespeak references), or would you prefer it completely story based? 

Anyway, see you in a few days, and we look forward to hearing from you!


----------



## Verbatim

As a new face in the crowd, I can't think of anything that I would change about the game so far. I like how with each story it starts from a different set of eyes, as it keeps the story, to me, more engrossing.

I personally like seeing the crunchy bits (char stats, items, etc) as it compliments the story in my opinion by showing you both sides of the house, but as opinions are like butt cracks, I'll trust you guys on what gets trickled out to us.

Keep up the good work guys...


----------



## GreyShadow

Ditto on what Verbatim said. 

Just post more... please.


----------



## Rel

First off, great update.  I can't wait to see how the story unfolds from here.  This is one of my favorite story hours for lots of very good reasons and your update reminded me of them.

I like the way the story is written.  I like the shifting perspective and the constant references to little nuances that make the characters come to life (the passing reference to Theo's booming voice for example).  I wouldn't change a thing.  However...



			
				Enkhidu said:
			
		

> On a side note, I have a fully annotated version of the Story Hour (at least parts 1 and 2) done, detailing bits and pieces of the campaign world that are mentioned in the story hour but never explained - would anyone be interested in getting their hands on this? And if you would, would you like it to include crunchy bits in it as well (like stat blocks, magic item descriptions, racial info, and maybe even some Gamespeak references), or would you prefer it completely story based?




Would I be interested in the annotated version?  Yes.  And when I say "yes", I mean "HELL YES!"  While I like the narrative format of the stories that focuses more on characterization and less on the "crunchy bits" I often wonder how certain things were implemented and I always like to see character sheets for PC's in the Story Hour threads I read.  Perhaps, if it isn't too much trouble, you could send out that document.  Or post the same Story Hour posts in the other Small Beginnings thread but with the "GM Commentary/Cruncy Bits" added in.

It's like owning the Small Beginnings DVD and getting to watch the Special Features.   

I look forward to more in the days to come.  And feel free to drop by my own Story Hour if you like.  I'm WAY behind but I'm about to do some serious catching up in the next several weeks.


----------



## Jon Potter

I agree with Rel on his assessment. I'd like to see the crunchy bits/evil DM ideas if only so that I can steal... I mean 'borrow' them for my own campaign.

The characterization is top notch all the way around, so I think the stroy hour would suffer if we weren't allowed to see the plot unfold from multiple perspectives. I certainly wouldn't be able to pick the one character I'd want to be the sole 'voice'.

And one another note:



			
				Verbatim said:
			
		

> ...but as opinions are like butt cracks, I'll trust you guys on what gets trickled out to us.




Please don't use butt cracks and trickle in the same sentence again any time soon. My daughter had a nasty stomach virus recently.


----------



## LiVeWiRe

I was out-of-town for a few days and I come back and it IS true- Small Beginnings is back!!  

I'm *SO* glad you guys decided to revive the adventures of Ash, Ander, Pack, Theo and Aurora!  And, it sounds like things are getting pretty intense...

I'm going to have to go back and read some of the story again just to make sure I'm up to speed and I remember exactly what transpired over the past few posts.  

Thanks again for cranking up this SH and for giving me a reason to put it back in my sig!  

Enk--I'll respond to your questions shortly.


----------



## LiVeWiRe

Enkhidu said:
			
		

> D'Shai and I have been talking about how we want to continue after wrapping up Small Beginnings, and came to the conclusion that one of the biggest reasons we continued to write this dang thing is because of our readers. In a lot of ways, you turned what was initially a writing exercise into something that we looked forward to doing every week. So I guess I should begin by saying that I'm sorry that we weren't able to get back on track with this thing sooner - I blame it on that stupid "life" thing getting in the way.



One of the reasons I was first drawn to (and now find myself coming back to) this SH, is the interaction/relation you have with your readers.  You guys are always looking for ways to improve (ex. asking for feedback, etc.) and have made your readers feel like they are a part of the story hour.  I will never forget the short write-up before one of the posts that included several of the readers and (iirc) depicted a scene from a previous or upcoming update.




> Anyway, as you should have gathered by now, events in Small Beginnings are coming to a head and the end is in sight. That means that Small Beginnings will soon be wrapping up permanently (though the exploits of the Heroes of Icemist, as Pack styles this crew, will just be beginning), and we'll be moving on.



So, the Small Beginnings part of the story will be finished and a new 'Heroes of Icemist' tale will begin?! 




> That's where you guys come in:
> 
> What we'd like to do is find out from you what story telling changes you'd like to see (if any). Do you like the ever shifting POV? Do you like the limited third person style? Are you getting bored with character exposition? Do you want more/less crunchy bits? Do you want more/less Gamespeak? Do you prefer your Pebbles Fruity or Cocoa? Basically, we're looking for feedback of all sorts because ultimately our goal is not only to entertain ourselves, but to also entertain _you_.



I agree with the others regarding the everchanging POV.  I, like Jon Potter, would find it extremely difficult to choose 1 character to be the single POV.  I really like the character details that are woven in with the story and don't feel that they distract or hinder the story in any way.  I also like seeing the 'crunchy' bits and getting the 'gamespeak' info but I feel that's where the thread in the Rogues Gallery comes in. 




> On a side note, I have a fully annotated version of the Story Hour (at least parts 1 and 2) done, detailing bits and pieces of the campaign world that are mentioned in the story hour but never explained - would anyone be interested in getting their hands on this? And if you would, would you like it to include crunchy bits in it as well (like stat blocks, magic item descriptions, racial info, and maybe even some Gamespeak references), or would you prefer it completely story based?



I'll second Rel's H@!# YES on getting my hands on this!  I'd like to get the crunchy bits in this along with the story.

Sorry for the large post.  Oh, almost forgot...Fruity Pebbles please!  

-LW


----------



## Enkhidu

OK, so the general consensus is: keep the story telling style the same, produce the annotated collection, and include lots of crunchy bits in the annotations. 

I'm figuring that most of the crunchiness will end up in footnotes so that you won't have to skip to the endnote section to read them, and the crunchy bits could include character stat blocks, some magic item stat blocks, notes from D'Shai for a DM's perspective at various times, notes from myself and the other players for some player perspective, and lots of notes to "see the Sunless Citadel adventure by WotC." All in some combination that I'm not yet sure will look good on paper, but will try anyway.

Anyway, at the end of this whole thing, I figure we'll supply you guys with a .pdf for you to take home to the kiddies. Hopefully you'll have all three parts a week or two after we finish up the SH and start on the next one.

See you in a couple days with the next installment!


----------



## LiVeWiRe

Enkhidu said:
			
		

> Anyway, at the end of this whole thing, I figure we'll supply you guys with a .pdf for you to take home to the kiddies. Hopefully you'll have all three parts a week or two after we finish up the SH and start on the next one.




That would be awesome!   

I mentioned the Rogues Gallery thread in one of my earlier posts...seems that it's still accessible on the old forums but not here.  Not sure what needs to be done, if it can be moved or a new thread would need to be started?

Looking forward to the update as always!

-LW


----------



## Enkhidu

Head over to the Rogue's Gallery now - the thread is bumped for you.


----------



## LiVeWiRe

Enkhidu said:
			
		

> Head over to the Rogue's Gallery now - the thread is bumped for you.




 Thanks Enk!  When I tried posting to it, it wouldn't let me...???

Anyway, glad to see it's still 'live'!


----------



## LiVeWiRe

Enk&D'Shai said:
			
		

> “Armed the same?” asked Ander, rubbing the long scar across his shoulder that was the reminder from their latest encounter with the axe wielding ant-men.




Is it just me or did I miss something here??  

BTW, reading through the SH again I just realized that several things have transpired during my 'work-induced hiatus' and the downtime for the story hour...

So, very belated but heartfelt CONGRATS to Enk and Mrs. Enk on the birth of their son and to Dshai on his new job!


----------



## dshai527

Thanks LiVe, 

Answer #1, No you didn't miss anything. Enk and I just sometimes skip over smaller fights or conversations and prefer to mention them in short passings like this one or in a quick flashback or something. There may be times where we feel the best way to tell a part of the story is to jump past it and make reference to it instead. That way we don't bog down the important action too much and it makes us feel cool. 

Thanks for the CONGRATs on the new job, but unfortunately we have been aquired by another larger comapny and my job status is up in the air. The worst part is the waiting for news on what is going to happen. 

As for Owen (Little Enk) I hope we can get Enk to put some pictures of teh little guy up with his new dice.


----------



## LiVeWiRe

dshai527 said:
			
		

> Answer #1, No you didn't miss anything. Enk and I just sometimes skip over smaller fights or conversations and prefer to mention them in short passings like this one or in a quick flashback or something. There may be times where we feel the best way to tell a part of the story is to jump past it and make reference to it instead. That way we don't bog down the important action too much and it makes us feel cool.




You guys know how to keep the story going...I just wanted to make sure I didn't overlook anything.  Besides, if it makes you feel cool then even better!  




			
				dshai527 said:
			
		

> Thanks for the CONGRATs on the new job, but unfortunately we have been aquired by another larger comapny and my job status is up in the air. The worst part is the waiting for news on what is going to happen.
> 
> As for Owen (Little Enk) I hope we can get Enk to put some pictures of teh little guy up with his new dice.



Hope everything works out for the best regarding the job...I've been through a couple of those situations and I can empathize with you.  So, Little Enk already has dice in hand eh?  

-LW


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

*"Just Another Post" or "Coming Soon to Theater near You"*

Welcome Story Fans to Another Exciting Post!

That's right D'shai, tonights post should be something really amazing.

The sky is clear and the winds are blowing from left to right across your radio dial and the characters should be hitting the field any moment now.

I'm really excited about this post, D'Shai. The writers have had a few days to think strategy and I think the readers are really going to have their hands full with this very hungry duo.

Let's look at a replay of last week's matchup:



			
				Us said:
			
		

> “Brother Theo, the streets are covered with kobolds and grey skinned dwarves, and at least some of them are armed. Additionally, regular patrols consisting of four centaur ants – the same as the ones we fought both in Icemist and again on the way toward our present position – circle the rim of the crater. I can’t be sure of how many patrols are in the rotation.”




Look at that great use of the basics - prepositions, adverbs, these guys are really on a roll.

You can say that again, D'Shai.

Look at that great use of the basics - prepositions, adverbs, these guys are really on a roll.

And now a word from our sponsors:



			
				Tip O' The Day said:
			
		

> Feeling confused? Unsure of where you're headed? Why not use a compass?




And we're back, just in time for the start of this great exhibition! Here's the wind up, the pitch, and...


*****

Ander winced as he rubbed his sword arm and ambled along, keeping pace with his slowly moving companions. “Remind me not to try to lift you over a ledge again, Brother,” he murmured in low tones, “I always thought old men wasted away to nothing, not packed on weight like a bear ready to sleep away the winter.” 

“This old bear has more than a few years left in him, cub,” the priest rumbled, “though I’m not sure how many I’ll get to live out if this plan of yours doesn’t work.”

Ander chuckled quietly, “Meepo’s plan, Brother. Credit where credit is due.”

“Credit indeed,” Ashrem sniffed. “Walking directly into a nest of creatures preparing to tear the flesh from our bones does not qualify as a plan.”

“Is that what they’re doing?” gasped Pack as his face went pale. “I thought you said they were building roads!”

The woodsman bent over to clap his friend on the shoulder “I don’t think he meant that literally, Pack. And Ash, it’s not all that bad, in fact…”

Ashrem cut off the young warrior, “Look ahead of you, Ander.” The woodsman glanced forward toward where Meepo walked hand in hand with Aurora a score of paces in front of the four warriors. “That little, scaly, dogfaced cretin is planning on not only leading us directly into the den of a powerful madman intent on child sacrifice, but leading us there while drawing as much attention to us as mortally possible. We are placing our lives, the lives of one half dozen of Icemist’s children, and the lives of the gods know how many countless others in its dirt encrusted claws. Can you truthfully say you are comfortable with this ‘plan’?”

Ander sighed heavily, “Ash, we went over this before. There’s just no way for us to make it all the way down to where those kids are unless we let Meepo announce us and use the kobolds as a cover. Even if we manage to get all the way down to this Master, break the children out, and make for the hills we’re going to get caught. You know this, Ash. Bones! You’re the one who brought it up to begin with!”

The woodsman fumed for a moment and then continued, “Look, Ashrem. I’m not exactly happy about having Meepo talk us up to the kobolds in order to get to this Master in the first place, but we decided – as a team – that our best chance is to bluff our way into see that bone-dust bastard, talk to him if we can, kill him if we have to, and get the kids out in the confusion.”

“The lad is right, Ashrem,” said Theo. “We really didn’t have much choice in it.”

“You are not telling me anything that I do not already know, Brother,” growled the scout. Ander could swear he heard a touch of anger and annoyance in his friend’s voice. “I however do not believe that that _thing_ is the right one to speak on our behalf.”

Pack’s voice rose up from between the Ashrem and Theo, “Meepo’s always done right by us so far, Ashrem. He might not be very smart or anything…”

“You have a gift for understatement, my friend,” Ashrem said under his breath. Ander didn’t think the halfling heard the remark as he rambled.

“…but he guided us past the goblins when it counted, and if it wasn’t for him I think Yusdrayl would’ve tried to get rid of us from the beginning, though I guess that telling us where the kids were was a way to do that anyway, and she did try to get us killed when she sent us after the rats without telling us, and…”

“I think he understands, Pack,” Theo rumbled, interrupting the bard much to Ander’s relief, “I think he understands.”

The companions walked in silence as they neared the first kobold checkpost. “Well, whether we are ready for this or not,” Ashrem said, “it starts now.”

Ander looked ahead to where Meepo hailed the kobolds in his native tongue. Aurora had stopped while Meepo ran forward, his hands in the air. The woodsman gripped his ironwood staff until his knuckles turned white. “Yes my friends, that is does.”

*	*	*

Kobolds swarmed around the companions, fading in and out of the shadows of the moss-light, stomping and chanting in their strange speech. It was all the woodsman could do to keep from bashing the little creatures as they danced about the small band. When the small celebration seemed to be dying down, Ander leaned forward over Aurora’s shoulder and whispered, “What’s going on?”

Aurora beamed as she answered back a little louder than Ander would have liked. “Meepo just told them that he is the Dragon Keeper and that he has come here to free them from the slave driver that rules over them and take them to their new master.”

“What!?,” was almost all the response the young man could muster. “What happened to the plan? What happened to the ‘we’re here to see the Master’?”

“I warned you, Ander,” Ashrem hissed between growls obviously meant to ward off any kobold that strayed too close to the scout. “If we pull back now, we may still be able to cover our trail enough to limit the inevitable pursuit to a manageable level.”

 “Ander, Ander look!” Pack cried, nearly choking the woodsman as he yanked on the larger man’s cloak. “Do you think they’ll let me go next?”

The young warrior looked to see Meepo being hoisted on the shoulders of his kin while they yipped and barked excitedly. “Isn’t it amazing?” Aurora said, a smile plastered on her pretty face. “He’s also telling them that we’re here to help and that they should give us passage so that we can go kill the Master! We’ll be able to get straight to the Master and get the children!”

Ander tried to give a half-hearted smile back at the young sorceress, but his stomach threatened to rebel. To make matters worse the kobolds had begun yanking at his clothes trying to pull him forward toward the keep-topped rock formation at the center of the city. Surprised growls and yelps from his companions told the woodsman his friends faced a similar situation. 

But without warning the throng of kobolds suddenly vanished as the thunder-like claps of slavers’ whips resounded through the square. Within heartbeats the only kobold in sight was Meepo, who stood defiantly in the middle if the street. He seemed rooted to the spot between two camps: the companions and a company of armored grey skinned dwarves.

The leader - at least Ander assumed it was the leader - moved forward toward Meepo. The dwarf stopped inches from the Dragon Keeper’s face, staring at the kobold as if his glare alone should have been enough to break the shorter creature’s resolve. Suddenly the dwarf began spitting words out that sounded more like grinding stone than any language. The verbal onslaught continued, emphasized occasionally by a whip crack and followed by laughter from the remaining dwarves, but through it all the small kobold held his ground never once wavering in his own glare.  When the lead dwarf finished, a cruel smile just visible through his beard, he leaned back as if already amused by what the kobold might have to say in his defense. 

As if reading the woodsman’s mind Aurora leaned back into the young man’s chest to again translate: “I am Meepo, Dragon Keeper of the Blood Claw Clan,” she whispered while Meepo rattled on in his native tongue, “and I have come with the mercenaries carrying a package the Master sent for. Move aside, or I will make you move aside.”

“Great. We need to get ready for a fight,” Ander whispered back as the amused look vanished from the dwarf’s face as fast as the kobolds had scattered before him just moments before. Ander glanced over his shoulder and saw Ashrem’s hand already moving toward his sword. He caught the scout’s eye as the dwarf shouted at the kobold. He signaled to his friend with a slight movement of his head toward the back of the dwarven company, but before he could give the order to attack he heard a strange chant from Meepo.

The kobold’s voice was filled with power. It did not request, it commanded in a familiar way. In fact, its tone was the same as Aurora’s when she… _He’s not going to…_

Meepo brought his hands up underneath his jaw and roared, but instead of sound coming from his tiny maw, fire flowed from it, singing the dwarf leader. _Bones! He just cast a spell!_

Ander wasn’t alone in his surprise, as the leader fell flat on his backside, patting out the wisps of flame in his beard. The other dwarves looked for a moment like they would cause a hue and cry, but were suddenly surrounded by a horde of kobolds. The dwarves gave way, obviously afraid of what a crazed mob of the short scaly creatures would do. Around the friends, the kobolds chanted with Meepo leading them. The woodsman looked to Brother Theo, who simply shrugged and moved after the throng. 

Ander sighed and walked after them, _I think that’s the last time I ever underestimate you, Meepo the Dragon Keeper. _

*****

Next Time!

"Does Anyone Actually Read These Things?" or "Is This Thing On?"


----------



## Dungannon

Oh my, Meepo the Mage!  Ya _gotta_ love that!  I guess his love for Aurora is having a positive effect on his minimal intelligence.


----------



## Rel

Enk&D'Shai said:
			
		

> “What!?,” was almost all the response the young man could muster. “What happened to the plan?"




Boy, if I just had a quarter for every time my players uttered that phrase, I'd have my own reality show where I got to tell people "You're Fired." (tm) for the flimsiest of reasons.

I too like the Meepo the Sorcerer direction.  Though burning a Duergar's beard doesn't sound like it was part of "the plan" either.  I'm curious as to how Meepo is run.  Does a player run him or the GM?

One other thing:  I forgot to mention earlier that one of the things that makes this SH one of my favorites is the back and forth commentary that you guys put before the actual updates.  It is fun to read and it shows genuine wit and creativity.

You guys remind me of a young Rel, back before I was all sore and bitter from the incredible amount of yard work I've done this weekend.  Now pardon me while I go ease myself into a vat of Tiger Balm.  *limps away*


----------



## LiVeWiRe

Rel said:
			
		

> Boy, if I just had a quarter for every time my players uttered that phrase, I'd have my own reality show where I got to tell people "You're Fired." (tm) for the flimsiest of reasons.
> [snip]
> One other thing:  I forgot to mention earlier that one of the things that makes this SH one of my favorites is the back and forth commentary that you guys put before the actual updates.  It is fun to read and it shows genuine wit and creativity.




LOL!  Normally for the groups I played in, it was "we don't need no stinkin' plan!"    

I too like the commentary at the start of the SH...that may take more effort to write than the SH sometimes?  Regardless, it is one of the many things that makes this SH so awesome...oh, and don't forget the "Tip O'The Day"!  

Wish I could say that I saw the Meepo Sorceror coming (makes sense since he worships Aurora) but I can't...but it is cool.

-LW


----------



## Verbatim

Meepo make fire!!!!

Another great update guys...looking foward to more story and stats..


----------



## fett527

Rel said:
			
		

> ... I'm curious as to how Meepo is run.  Does a player run him or the GM?...




Dshai527 runs Meepo as an NPC and does very good job with it, as you can tell.  We never run more than one character and everyone else is a PC (i.e. Ashrem, Ander, Aurora, Theo and Pack).  Somtimes Dshai will run a PC if they are unable to make a session.


----------



## HULK

HULK take time off for movie but now back.  

HULK like when Worm fight big tree.  Sheriff mean to Worm.  Worm break sherriff like little twig.

HULK glad to see return of story and tip of the day.


----------



## Enkhidu

Yea! HULK's back, just in time to see us... pretty much end Small Beginnings.

Though you'll probably be happy as we delve into the new(er) SH as Worm plays a much larger role.


----------



## Rel

Enkhidu said:
			
		

> just in time to see us... pretty much end Small Beginnings.




You've mentioned a couple of times that we're nearing the end of "Small Beginnings".  Will the titles of the further adventures continue this trend?  Like, will the next installment be called Moderate Sized Further Adventures and lead into Fairly Sizable Added Excitements and then The GI-FREAKIN'-GANTIC ENDING!!?

Inquiring minds and all that.


----------



## Enkhidu

Rel said:
			
		

> You've mentioned a couple of times that we're nearing the end of "Small Beginnings".  Will the titles of the further adventures continue this trend?  Like, will the next installment be called Moderate Sized Further Adventures and lead into Fairly Sizable Added Excitements and then The GI-FREAKIN'-GANTIC ENDING!!?
> 
> Inquiring minds and all that.




You ever thought about moving to Dayton, Rel? Cuz' if you do, then I've got to say, there's no way in hell you can play at our table, 'cuz I just won't stand for someone that's funnier than I am. 


 

Anyway, D'Shai and I are working on the next post already, though this next one might take a few more days than the past few because of some spring vacations, anniversaries, and other sundry events. But, even with that, our outline says we should be wrapping up with Book 1 and start with Book 2 in about 3 or 4 weeks. Then its a race to see how quickly we can catch up with the present game (only about 20 months worth of gaming sessions - we can do that, right?).


----------



## Bubbalicious

Enkhidu said:
			
		

> You ever thought about moving to Dayton, Rel? Cuz' if you do, then I've got to say, there's no way in hell you can play at our table, 'cuz I just won't stand for someone that's funnier than I am.





Enk, there's only one person at the table NOW who's not funnier than you (unless you're talking about funny looking, but I don't think you know what Rel looks like).  Rel would be a welcome addition to rub it in your face that you can't touch me, D'shai, Fett, or "John the Nudist" where humor is concerned! (forgot D'shai's wife who isn't funny often, but when she is it's usually a major burn on your lack of masculinity which more than makes up for the lack of frequency!)


----------



## Enkhidu

Bubbalicious said:
			
		

> Enk, there's only one person at the table NOW who's not funnier than you (unless you're talking about funny looking, but I don't think you know what Rel looks like).  Rel would be a welcome addition to rub it in your face that you can't touch me, D'shai, Fett, or "John the Nudist" where humor is concerned! (forgot D'shai's wife who isn't funny often, but when she is it's usually a major burn on your lack of masculinity which more than makes up for the lack of frequency!)




You just wait until the next time we write the story from Pack's POV...


----------



## Rel

Bubbalicious said:
			
		

> Enk, there's only one person at the table NOW who's not funnier than you...




If that is the case then I'm surprised you guys ever get any playing done.   

Our group is blessed with more than its fair share of folks who have good senses of humor.  Some sessions it is hard to move the story forward amid all the jokes and laughter.  But we don't sweat that.  After all, it's hard to complain about a session where your sides ache from all the laughing.

And remember, Bubbalicious (and btw, I think your name/avatar combo proves right there that you've got a good sense of humor), don't piss off the DM or the guy who writes the story hour.  We can make your character look so stupid it ain't even funny.

Except it probably will be funny.


----------



## HULK

HULK glad to hear Worm be in more of next part.

HULK think Rel is funny but he should have said "HULK-sized Ending".


----------



## Bubbalicious

Rel said:
			
		

> If that is the case then I'm surprised you guys ever get any playing done.
> 
> And remember, Bubbalicious (and btw, I think your name/avatar combo proves right there that you've got a good sense of humor), don't piss off the DM or the guy who writes the story hour.  We can make your character look so stupid it ain't even funny.
> 
> Except it probably will be funny.




We sometimes do have trouble getting any playing done. (especially when we have to clean up the table after Enk blows milk out his nose 'cause someone ELSE said something funny)

Also, I play Pack, and while he's not really stupid, per se, he IS very spastic and it requires very little work to make him look stupid. (Enk is actually writing him a little more on the naive side)

I will give Enk one prop, though, for naming one NPC in Icemist...
...Chris the Reeve!  (does THAT explain things a little?)


----------



## Bubbalicious

BTW my sig is actually not my quote but one from John the Nudist, who plays Worm. He doesn't really remember how to work the internet, so I felt kind of free to plagiarize.  (of course, I guess it's no longer really plagiarism since I'm crediting him here)

I guess I could change my sig...
How about "You look in the room and the room is completely empty except for a bunch of barrels and several pantry shelves with lots of stuff on them."
  
(inside joke...Enk understands) (on second thought, Enk IS pretty funny...
...just not always intentionally!)


----------



## LiVeWiRe

Enkhidu said:
			
		

> Yea! HULK's back...




What is it with HULK around here?




			
				HULK said:
			
		

> HULK take time off for movie but now back.




Oh, I see...HULK's a *movie star*.


----------



## Enkhidu

More importantly, D'Sahi and I are always happy to see HULK because if we weren't then HULK might smash.

You don't want a smashed story hour, do you?

Anyhoo, just wanted to say that D'Shai and are in the middle of back to back vacations and that's why you've not seen an update this week. On the up side, the update is pretty much written, and only needs a quick going over by both D'Shai and myself. Look for it by Thursday at latest (if you don't see it before then, which is entirely possible).

And in other news, we're making good progress on the annotated story hour. I've been poring over the collection for places to add footnotes, D'Shai has been putting together the 'player's guide,' and we've been pillaging all of fett's work in the Rogue's Gallery to give y'all a true "collection." Best of all, we've gotten some very good news about how you'll get that info - I won't let the cat out of the bag just yet, but I have a hunch that you'll be _very_ happy with the result.

See you in the funny pages!


----------



## Rel

Enkhidu said:
			
		

> And in other news, we're making good progress on the annotated story hour. I've been poring over the collection for places to add footnotes, D'Shai has been putting together the 'player's guide,' and we've been pillaging all of fett's work in the Rogue's Gallery to give y'all a true "collection." Best of all, we've gotten some very good news about how you'll get that info - I won't let the cat out of the bag just yet, but I have a hunch that you'll be _very_ happy with the result.




ROXXOR!


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

Alright D'Shai time to... What in shaolin are you doing?

Uh, its called reading... a book.

I can see that, smartypants. What exactly are you reading and why don't I see the usual pop-ups?

I graduated to words, but Dick and Jane are boring. Spot has potential, besides this one has glossy photos. Its called... What's this word? 

"A."

Oh, its called "A History Guide to Dayton Ohio."

How wonderful. Didn't you go over that kind of thing in elementary... Oh, never mind. Dropout.

No way, I was drafted. Anyway there are a lot of interesting facts in this book.

I'm going to hate myself in the morning for this... Like what?

Well like page 3 for instance says that this is the birthplace of flight.

Some people might disagree with that (Hi, Rel!), but that's pretty well known. Anything, well, obscure?

Well, you know the man who invented post it notes?

Which one, Art Fry or Spencer Silver?

...

Well?

Neither one ever lived in Dayton.

Astonishing.

Well how about this fact on page 527, "Dayton is the home of the Estevez family."

Like Emilio?

And his father Martin.

The guy on West Wing? Cool. What about his brother?

Doesn't say. Well here's the Tip of the Day. "If you can dodge a wrench, you can dodge a ball." 

Didn't we already talk about using movie quotes for the Tip of the Day?

Allright, allright: "If you use a gag often enough it becomes funny."

Whatever _that_ might mean...

*****

"Barrel is to Monkeys as _____ is to Kobolds:
A. Hat*
B. Sword
C. Murder
D. Sword (I like swords)
E. Sword-chucks

*(of 02 know no limit!)


***

Theo frowned involuntarily as he and his friends approached a pair of competent looking dwarf guards flanking the base of the stone path leading up to the keep. So far, their ‘escort’ of hooting and yipping kobolds had stopped them from receiving any real interrogation about their business with their master, but the weathered priest didn’t believe for a moment that the unruly mob would stay unruly if Meepo continued to follow Aurora. The crowd had already proved cowardly on one occasion, and with the effect that the little Dragon Keeper had on his kin gone, he supposed that it wouldn’t be long before the dwarven overseers moved in to break it up.

“Do you think this will work, Ander?” he asked the woodsman who walked lightly beside him.

“It’s got to. I’m out of ideas.”

“How encouraging,” Ashrem hissed from behind the two men.

Theo ignored the sour remark. “Well this one seems to be working well enough, lad,” he said, clapping the younger man on the shoulder. “Meepo’s mob has gotten us far enough that I think we can handle it from here.”

“Brother Theo, ‘here’ has arrived,” said the feloine from behind. “This ‘mob’ has begun scattering already.”

A quick look by the priest proved the scout right: the crowd of kobolds had thinned considerably, and he could see more of the mob deserting as they closed on the keep. As if sensing that their escort might abandon them completely before the companions could make it to the rocky foundation, Ander quickened his pace, leaving Theo hard pressed to keep up with the young man’s longer stride.

“Aurora,” the woodsman called toward the young woman, who walked side by side with Meepo a half dozen paces in front of the priest, “rein in Meepo during this one. I don’t want a repeat of the first time he talked with the dwarves when we’re this close to the Master. He’s been good so far…”

The little kobold stopped in his tracks and turned toward the young man, his eyes wide. He pointed at his chest. “Meepo good?”

For a moment the group halted in shock. Theo broke the relative silence all the while staring at the kobold, “When did our little friend learn to speak the King’s Speech, Aurora?”

“I… I don’t know, Theo. He’s never said anything in Torian to me before!”

“Well he certainly has now, lass.”

“We have not the time to discuss newfound linguistic capabilities at this juncture,” growled Ashrem. “One of the guards is coming to investigate.”

Theo looked up in time to see one of the two dwarven guards posted at the path to the keep trundling toward them, calling out in its grinding voice. Meepo bounded out to meet him, growling in what Theo assumed to be the dwarven tongue. 

For long moments, kobold and dwarf babbled back and forth, until Aurora said, “We might have some trouble. I think the dwarves want some proof that we are who we say we are.”

“How are we going to do that?” asked Pack from below.

Aurora answered, “Meepo’s been telling them we’re from the south – I think that the dwarves think we’re claiming to be the ones we fought right before we fought the tree.”

“What did Balsag say about them?” Pack said, as if trying to remember something just on the edge of his memory, “Oh right! He said that Belak, Erth and some other had come down to ‘find out why the kobolds were behind schedule in getting their master sap from the demon tree.’” The bard spoke the last with a harsh growl, as if imitating the bugbear’s guttural voice. 

“Good,” said Ander. “Aurora, have Meepo tell them we have the sap. That should get us through.”

Theo watched as Aurora moved toward the arguing dwarf and kobold. Meepo broke away from the conversation with a gesture, and ran to meet the sorceress. After a quick conversation, both returned to their respective places. “Meepo already told them we have the sap. The problem is that the dwarf wants to see it, and won’t take no for an answer. Meepo’s been trying to tell him that only the Master can see it, but the dwarf won’t budge.”

“Like Durnan after you hide his wooden leg when he’s taking a nap?” asked Pack.

Theo chuckled despite himself, “Probably more like Abil when a farmer asks for a tax extension.” The priest ruffled the small bard’s hair. “And as I recall, the good shopkeep caught you despite hopping on one leg.”

“In any event, our ‘well laid plan’ seems on the verge of collapse,” Ashrem huffed as he glanced around. For a moment, Theo thought that the feloine was looking for other guards he might have to kill: _so refined, yet so bloodthirsty. Reminds me of some of the ‘nobility’ back in Tor…_

 “Maybe I’ve got something we could use,” Pack said, as he shrugged off his rucksack and began rummaging. Theo and his young friends crowded around the halfling as he did so, shielding his actions from prying eyes. One of Pack’s hands flew up holding one of Wishbone’s Brews, “does this look like tree sap to you?”

“No,” said Ander from Theo’s left. “Needs to be thicker. Anyone else got anything like that?”

“I might,” said Theo. His hand dropped to his belt pouch and he fished out a small jar of black, brackish liquid.

“What’s that?” Pack asked making a face.

“Liniment,” Theo said. “For my knees.” He waited a moment as his younger companions stared at him. “For when it rains!” A moment more passed. “Well, will it work or not?”

“Oh, yes. It’ll work,” Ander said, obviously holding back a tiny snicker.

“Don’t laugh, lad. You should be so lucky when you’re my age as to only have your bones creak during a rain shower.” Theo stepped forward and held up the jar. When he did, Meepo shouted and hopped, pointing back at the priest as if to say ‘I told you so’. 

When he saw the black sludge of the jar, the dwarf waved the companions forward and then through his makeshift checkpoint. And while both guards gave Theo and his friends a hard look as they passed, neither of them did more. 

Theo and his friends played the same scene two more times on their way up the rocky pathway that circled the base of the keep: each time Theo produced the jar the guards waved them past until they reached the gates of the keep proper. There the priest saw four more rough looking dwarves and he reached for the jar, but before he could produce it the guards parted as yet another dwarf, this one dressed in what looked to Theo as the robes of a clerk of some sort, walked out from the gate.

Meepo approached this clerk and began babbling in dwarf speech. Theo expected to have to go through the motions of producing the ‘sap’, but after only a few words, the clerk motioned for the group to follow as he moved quickly back into the keep. Meepo lagged behind him long enough to whisper to Aurora and then scampered after the dwarf. 

While they moved after the clerk, Aurora whispered to the group, “Meepo says we’re being taken to the Master. He says he was told the Master was expecting us.”

“That does not bode well,” said Ashrem in near silent tones.

“You have that right, friend,” said Theo, trying to be quiet as well. From the look on both Ander’s and Ashrem’s faces he had to assume that he hadn’t succeeded. 

“We’ve got company,” Ander said. His voice matched the feloine’s when he spoke. “Guards coming from left and right.

Theo glanced from side to side, and was greeted by the sight of a pair of well armed dwarven guards coming in to flank them from either side. They wielded halberds, and looked like they were familiar with their use, but instead of attacking, they took up escort positions in front of and behind the group. Together, the caravan moved through the torch and moss lit keep: a reception hall, a banquet hall, and a library that had a spiral staircase. 

Theo looked around as he moved. While the halls were pristine – he supposed they might have never been used - the library looked ‘lived in’. Books were strewn about the tables and well padded chairs, and desks lit by candlelight were covered by papers of all sorts. Theo noticed a strange yet familiar smell about the place, something that tugged disturbingly at him from long ago, but before he could place it the train of friends and dwarves had passed through the chamber and into a stairwell that led up, then down, and then up again.

Flight after flight of stairs disappeared under Theo’s heavy stride until the priest lost count of the doorways they passed. _I hope someone is getting all this_, he thought, _a man could get lost in here_. Then suddenly, the stairwell ended at a brace of huge stone doors. The doors were intricately carved with sigils and glyphs unfamiliar to the old man, though they filled him with the same sense of disquiet that the library had. 

The guards took up positions on either side, while the clerk faced the door, opened his arms, and spoke softly, “_Baa-ramyu_!” The door groaned for a moment, as if in protest, and began to open, stone grinding on stone. Theo mouthed the clerk’s word silently, committing it to memory.

The dwarven clerk stood aside and motioned the group into the chamber beyond with a bow. Almost unthinkingly, Theo led the way into the well lit chamber beyond, his mouth slightly agape at the sights inside.

The square room’s smooth stone walls and ceiling were polished to a glossy charlie sheen and lit with alternating braziers and patches of moss placed evenly throughout. The floor was equally polished, though its stones, each easily one of Theo’s double paces wide, alternated between white and black in a gameboard pattern. In the back of the room a small alcove, complete with an open curtain, stood empty save for a waist high table and a set of what looked like brackets or hanging rods sticking out from the wall. Along every wall were tables, desks, and benches full of loose parchment, scrolls, books, vials, basins, and flasks. It looked every bit the wizard’s sanctum, as if pulled directly from every tale Theo had heard as a child.

Hunched over one of these tables sat a bent, robed, and hooded figure. “_Baa-ramyu_!” it said in a voice nearly as deep as Theo’s own, and the stone doors closed behind the company. Uncomfortable moments passed as the stone hinges ground, until the door finally closed with an audible click. “I have watched you since you have come to my city,” the figure said in perfect Torian while continuing its work, “and I understand you claim to have something that belongs to me. Is this true?”

Ander traded concerned glances with Theo, until the older man moved his head ever so slightly, _As good you as anyone, lad. _

“We have the sap,” Ander lied.

The figure, the Master, stopped whatever work it had in front of it, but did not turn. “And from that I must assume that Belak is dead. That would be the only way that fool would fail me.”

“Belak is dead,” Ander answered, “as are his twig beasts.”

“Twig beasts? Interesting…” The Master paused for a moment. “I suppose you’ll want Belak’s payment as well?”

“No, we want double.” Ander held out an empty hand toward Theo, and the priest deposited the jar in his olive skinned palm. “Otherwise you don’t get your sap.” As the jar changed hands, the older man caught a look of barely contained panic in the eyes of the woodsman. 

The Master turned, “Then let us finish this business so that I may get back to work.” He moved slowly toward the group and let drop his hood. “One thousand gold coins, of various minting. Agreed?”

Theo heard the jar crash to the ground as the woodsman let it slip from his fingers while Aurora gasped and Ashrem growled. Pack, for once had been struck speechless.

Theo stared daggers at the Master’s eyes. Eyes set in the shaggy head of a fully horned ram. The same eyes that Theo imagined watched as his wife died. _Demon_!

As one, Theo and his companions cried out, “_NO_!” and the battle was joined.

*****


Next time:

More silliness!

Hey! I'm not silly. I'm zany!

You're not zany, you're the last kid picked in gym class.

...

No! Not the eyes! NOT THE EYES!

Next time:

More zaniness!


----------



## Dungannon

> The guards took up positions on either side, while the clerk faced the door, opened his arms, and spoke softly, “Baa-ramyu!”



That'll do, pig.  That'll do.


----------



## Jon Potter

Enk&D'Shai said:
			
		

> The square room’s smooth stone walls and ceiling were polished to a glossy charlie sheen...





A little fixated on the Estevez family aren't we?


----------



## dshai527

Dungannon said:
			
		

> That'll do, pig.  That'll do.




We wondered if anyone would catch that, or the Charlie Sheen (as nobody really mantioned anything when we did Barney Rubble some time ago). Neither Enk nor myself could remember the word used, so we were thinking what to put. Meanwhile my wife was taking a quiz from the latest Entertainment Weekly magazine about the 90's. Needless to say one of the questions was "What is the verse used by Babe to get the sheep to listen to him?" My wife without pause rambled off the entire quote. Enk and I both knew then that it had to be used. (Fun Fact #30)


----------



## Rel

I always love it when the party talks their way INTO the crapper and decides to fight their way OUT of the crapper.  It means I didn't waste my time statting out the Duergar.  And it probably also means that some PC's will get killed and it's always fun to have fresh faces in the party, isn't it?   

As to this:



			
				Enk&D'Shai said:
			
		

> Well like page 3 for instance says that this is the birthplace of flight.
> 
> Some people might disagree with that (Hi, Rel!), but that's pretty well known.




See, the key to harmony between the great states of Ohio and North Carolina is semantics.  If you slice the baloney thin enough, everybody can be happy.  So we say, "Ohio is the 'Birthplace of Aviation', while North Carolina is 'First in Flight'."  From there we proceed to stipulate that John Glenn was a senator from Ohio and an astronaut while Jesse Helms was a senator from NC and part of the "Right Wing", without which any aircraft is doomed.  Lastly we come to Enk & dshai and Rel, all of whom are full of hot air suitable for ballooning.  It's like it was destiny.

All in all, a pretty crappy destiny.


----------



## Enkhidu

Rel said:
			
		

> I always love it when the party talks their way INTO the crapper and decides to fight their way OUT of the crapper.




I have to admit - we were blindsided by the fact that the Master was actually a  demon. And from the time we realized that he was a demon, it was pretty much a foregone conclusion that we'd either pick or start a fight. People at the table began palming dice the moment D'Shai described him.

Of course, I'm not so sure we would've been so keen on attacking had we known that he could use 



Spoiler



against us. And we were all equally suprised when he finally managed to 



Spoiler



and found 



Spoiler



waiting impatiently...


----------



## fett527

Rel said:
			
		

> I always love it when the party talks their way INTO the crapper and decides to fight their way OUT of the crapper.  It means I didn't waste my time statting out the Duergar.  And it probably also means that some PC's will get killed and it's always fun to have fresh faces in the party, isn't it?




A battle was a foregone conclusion when the demon was revealed.  Theo and Ashrem would always see to that.


----------



## HULK

HULK want more updates to hear fight with demon!

HULK not want Charlie Sheen in story hour, again.  Ever.


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

Seeing as how today's opening dialogue was going to be a eulogy for Charlie Sheen...

Enk, Charlie Sheen isn't dead.

His career sure seems to be. Have you actually seen his new show? Anyway, since HULK has subtly threatened us with a SMASHing if we included Charlie Sheen again, D'Shai will instead read a passage from our favorite book, Ken Rolston's _Extreme Paranoia: Nobody Knows the Trouble I've Shot_, a piece based on the very serious work of Greg Costikyan and others.

...

D'Shai?

Shh! I'm reading a passage from our favorite book, Ken Rolston's _Extreme Paranoia: Nobody Knows the Trouble I've Shot_, a piece based on the very serious work of...

You were reading to yourself, weren't you?

Of course! That's what the librarian always said to do.

Great. Just do the Tip of the Day.

When working from home either wear underwear or make sure your webcam isn't on.

Remind me not to come over to your house on the weekdays.

Don't come over to my house on the weekdays.

Thanks. 

No really, thanks.

I mean that.

And here we go:

*****

The Master’s searing red eyes burned indelibly into Pack’s memory, sending a shudder of horror down’s the halfling’s spine. The bard would have turned and fled had his legs obeyed his commands, but instead Pack stared on in horror as his friends moved in concert to engage the ram’s head demon.  

Ashrem rolled past the surprised demon and hopped onto the table behind the creature as if to cut off any retreat while Aurora sent a volley of her arcane missiles at the beast. One of the missiles dwindled as it flew, dissipating into a fine mist before reaching the monster, but the other struck home with a sickening hiss. Ander followed its impact with a double handed swing of his staff that landed with a resounding thud on the Master’s chest: the blow would have knocked even HULK backwards from its power, but the demon seemed to barely notice. Then one of Zuras’ lightning bolts arced from Theo’s shield and smacked into the exact spot of Ander’s strike, staggering the beast. 

Ashrem used the opening to plunge Mistslayer’s sword hilt deep into the Master’s back. Pack swore that the blade had pierced more than just the flesh of the horned creature as it roared in pain for the first time. 

The bard felt his courage grow with each blow that the Heroes of Icemist struck, and when another volley of Aurora’s missiles burned into the creature Pack felt fear’s tendrils loosen. He found himself drawing a weapon of his own as he watched Ander attacking the demon with both ends of his staff in a blurry flurry of strikes. The woodsman must have thought his weapon useless against the fiend: it seemed to the halfling that his assault was designed more to corral the creature than damage it. Pack’s hunch proved correct as he heard Meepo’s familiar warcry and the kobold rushed spear first at the entangled woodsman-demon melee. “Meepo Missile!”

Pack’ spirits soared as he watched the kobold charge headlong at the twisted pair of warriors. They leapt even higher when Ander, at the last moment, stepped sideways so that Meepo’s spear aligned perfectly with the demon’s chest. The tip of the spear hit square with the full weight of the charging kobold behind it, but instead of piecing the demon’s heart the spear bent as if Meepo was trying to ram it through a boulder. 

“You dare attack me in my sanctum?” the Master hissed as he shoved the kobold aside. “_Baa-ramyu_,” he commanded as he moved a pace back to come even with Ashrem’s table.  

Pack’s soaring spirits dropped like stones as the giant door behind them began to open. For a moment, the halfling panicked as he realized that if the guards that waited outside managed to join the fight he and his friends had no hope.

“Theo! Stop that door from opening,” Ander yelled proving that Pack wasn’t the only one concerned about reinforcements.

“Already on it lad, but I think all I can do is keep closing it as he tries to open it! _Baa-ramyu_!” The sounds of grinding stone slowed to a stop and then started anew as the door began to close allowing no more than a crack to be seen from the other side. 

“_Baa-ramyu_!” the demon again roared, this time emphasizing the command with a headbutt that sent Ander sliding across the floor clutching his ribs. The door once again shifted direction, and Pack was horrified to see that this time it moved far more quickly on its stone hinges. He could already see the halberd heads pushing through the slim opening, ready to advance into the room and sure to block the door from closing no matter what commands Theo bellowed. If someone didn’t do something to clear them… _Let’s see if I can’t give you something else to occupy your time!_

With a dip and turn, Pack let his left hand fall atop a well tooled pouch made of black leather that matched his best stage clothes. His fingers burrowed under the pouch’s flap to grasp a warm fuzzy object and with a quick flick of his wrist he tossed it through the small opening and at the feet of the waiting guards. When their weapon heads withdrew from the gap at the door with a shout, the bard heard Theo repeat the command word to reverse the door. Pack’s last glimpse before the door slammed was that of a brown glob of growling fur that swelled and sprouted limbs, claws, and a head complete with razor sharp teeth. 

“What in the Storm’s eye was that?” Theo yelped, backing away from the door as muted screams wailed from the other side. 

“I…I don’t know!” answered a perplexed Pack. “It’s from my bunny bag that I use at my Festival magic show! I thought that the guards might chase a rabbit and give us some time!”

“That was no rabbit,” Theo grinned. “Looked more like a bad tempered Badger, only bigger! No sense shooing away a surprise rain when the crops are dry though. Now look lively, lad,” the priest continued, reading his flail, “and let’s finish this!” 

Pack turned back to the fight to see that even though Aurora’s latest volley of missiles evaporated before reaching the demon, Ander and Ashrem had the beast cornered and bleeding badly. _I can end this now!_

“_Fulmenictus_!” Pack whispered, pointing Belak’s crimson glove at the battered demon. The bard felt the familiar rush of magic as a line of fire leapt from his fingertips bathing the beast in a sheet of scorching flame. When the elemental torrent died away though, the demon still stood, seemingly unscathed by the magical fire. What passed for a wicked smile grew on his billy goat bearded face. 

“In my own home and with my own creations,” he said. For a moment Pack thought he heard pity in the demon’s voice. “You really are fools!” Pack stood dumbfounded by the demon’s word until the Master’s spoke a single, ear shattering word. 

“_*Fulmencekiatus*_!” 

Pack felt the gauntlet on his hand spasm, just as it would have had he released its magic, but more intensely than it ever had before. In confusion, he moved toward the demon a step, then two. The glove shook his hand, his fingers wobbling as surely as the branches of the Switching Tree when Worm pushed it over three years ago, and suddenly a flaring ball of fire erupted from the glove, engulfing the young bard and all those that stood around him. For a long moment the flames danced around Pack, the demon, and his companions. Ashrem managed to dive behind the table he had so recently stood upon and shove it ever so slightly toward the fire, while his other friends tried best to shield themselves from the inferno. Only Pack and the Master stood firm, both seemingly unharmed by the tongues of flame.

As suddenly as the fire flared, it extinguished. Pack stared in horror as wisps of smoke rose from Theo’s shield and armor where the priest had crouched for protection and a barely breathing Meepo lay draped over Aurora, protecting all but the ends of her robes from the blast. Even the central table where the fight had begun lay shattered and smoldering in ash. 

The demon roared in fury as he stood over the smoking remains of the table and lifted what was once a staff. It crumbled as he gripped it, and that sent the demon into further fits. “Years of work, gone!” he bellowed. “GONE!” 

Pack scampered over toward Theo as the demon ranted, pausing only to see that Meepo and Aurora were both moving. The priest looked horrible: parts of his hair were singed and the skin underneath looked red and blistered. Without more than a moment’s hesitation Pack concentrated on the burned areas and began humming, calling the magic from the song just as he had before. His voice strained, trying to pull as much magic from the song as he could, focusing the energy toward the groaning priest. This time though the wounds were too great and the halfling’s song did little but smooth the blistered skin.

Undaunted, Pack began humming again, ignoring the burning in his throat as he molded the song once again. Sweat beaded on his forehead and his tongue sat like a lump of dried jerky in his mouth, but the bard watched as the skin resumed its normal color and the priest’s labored breathing calmed.

“Thank you, Pack,” Theo whispered, obviously still in pain. “Zuras watch over me, but I think I can take it from here.”

Pack was about to respond to his friend, or hug him, but his celebration was cut short by a warning cry from Ander. Pack looked back over his shoulder to see the ranger sprawled on the floor, clutching his ribs. “Ashrem, stop him!”

The bard swung his head in the direction of Ander’s outstretched arm to see the demon duck into the curtained alcove near the back of the room. The beast bared his teeth in what Pack thought might have been a grin as the feloine scout rushed at him, and then reached out to one of the of the posts sticking out from the alcove wall. It wasn’t until he yanked it violently downward that Pack had the sinking feeling that he had just pulled some kind of lever.

The sinking feeling continued, literally, as the floor that supported Theo, Aurora, Meepo, and Pack suddenly disappeared, leaving only a gaping maw beneath them; a maw packed with rows of serrated lances.


----------



## Jon Potter

Enk&D'Shai said:
			
		

> The sinking feeling continued, literally, as the floor that supported Theo, Aurora, Meepo, and Pack suddenly disappeared, leaving only a gaping maw beneath them; a maw packed with rows of serrated lances.





YIKES!!!

Hardcore.


----------



## Rel

"Bunny Bag"??  Have I missed seeing Pack use this item before?

I laughed out loud because "back in the day" (1E) there was a guy who we played with sometimes who had a "Bag of Endless Bunnies".  He was forever pulling out a rabbit and sending it down a dungeon corridor and listening to hear if it set off any traps or got eaten by some monster.

So where do these extradimentional critters come from?  Are they etherial?  Are they little round objects left in Pack's bag by the "Ether Bunny"1?   

1. I'm here all week.  Try the veal and don't forget to tip HULK.


----------



## dshai527

It is really a modified bag of tricks, but up until that point he had never pulled anything other than bunnies out of it for magic shows back home. (Well actually he used it once before but we omitted that part of the story because Enk and I forgot about it until Bubbles reminded us. It happens) This is a good item because at this point in the game summoning spells are not allowed, but you will have to wait for it to come out in the story before I say why. Unless you bribe me. So much backstory so little time to add it in.


----------



## Enkhidu

D'Shai beat me to the bag question.

This is one of those moments where D'Shai and I have taken a wee bit of creative license with the characters here (and strangely enough, most of the time they're with Pack - maybe because he's really turning out to be the "main character" of this story). Bubbalicious actually knew what the bunny bag was capable of (though he actually did try to use it as a diversion during this fight), but we decided that it would fit the story hour Pack better if he thought he was tossing out a simple bunny for the guards to chase. Plus it made us laugh.

By the way, the first part of the spoiler mad lib has been revealed:

"Of course, I'm not so sure we would've been so keen on attacking had we known that he could *use our own magic items* against us. And we were all equally suprised when he finally managed to 



Spoiler



and found 



Spoiler



waiting impatiently..."


----------



## LiVeWiRe

What do I have to say about the 2 latest updates?



			
				Enk&D'shai said:
			
		

> The Master turned, “Then let us finish this business so that I may get back to work.” He moved slowly toward the group and let drop his hood. “One thousand gold coins, of various minting. Agreed?”
> 
> Theo heard the jar crash to the ground as the woodsman let it slip from his fingers while Aurora gasped and Ashrem growled. Pack, for once had been struck speechless.
> 
> Theo stared daggers at the Master’s eyes. Eyes set in the shaggy head of a fully horned ram. The same eyes that Theo imagined watched as his wife died. Demon!




WOW!  NEVER saw that coming!  

& 



			
				Enk&D'Shai said:
			
		

> The sinking feeling continued, literally, as the floor that supported Theo, Aurora, Meepo, and Pack suddenly disappeared, leaving only a gaping maw beneath them; a maw packed with rows of serrated lances.




DOUBLE WOW!! and UH-OH!  *Very* interested in seeing how this series of events turns out!

Keep up the GREAT work guys!
-LW


----------



## fett527

Demons.

Demons.

Demons.


----------



## Ashy

Demons.

Demons.

Demons.

Rock.

Da.

Cazbah.


----------



## LiVeWiRe

3rd page?!  

Gotta get ya back on the 1st page little fella...


----------



## Enkhidu

N/T


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

Hello readers! Sorry about the delay, but I have been waiting on D'Shai. He's running late as usual and..

You! You lowlife! I'm on to you, bucko!

Bucko? What in the year of living dangerously are you talking about? and why are you dragging a safe?

You know what I'm talking about, and my new dice are in the safe where you can't touch them.

*groan* Look, we told you last Sunday, nobody is out to get your dice.

Ha! Liar. I saw the looks on your faces last gaming session. I know. You even have my own wife plotting against me. My own wife!

You rolled ten 20's in one combat- eight of them on attack roles, the other two on critical saves. The six of us had a total of one between us, and it was on initiative.

You went first, didn't you?

My init mod is +7, and the bag guys rolled a 2. Your dice could have killed someone!

Thats my job...I'm the DM! Ever since my dice were stolen those years ago, and I still think it was you or Fett, you guys have had it easy, but with my new preciousssesss you guys have a taste of the old me back...and I can smell your fear.

What? Fear? That was Jon the Nudist's burritos! Anyway, you never used those other dice as a DM anyway, only as a player. You were the one who said it was too unfair to use your lucky dice as a DM, not us. Well maybe Fett after the 'Night of 100 Arrows', but not the rest of us. 

I'm not taking any chances. I saw that Aurora deposited $10 in our checking account the other day...I wonder where the money came from. Hmm?

Oh for the love of ...we are not, I repeat, _not_ bribing your wife to curse your dice...

that you are aware of.

What was that last part?

Nothing, now do the tip of the day.

Never let anyone else, even your better half, touch, look at, breath near, talk about, or kiss your dice...they may be trying to curse them. Yes they may..you never know. Trust me on this one. I have been there.

Calm down D'shai. Hey, didn't you have a safe a minute ago?

What! Ahhhh!

*****

Interlude

Chi-ratuck raised a hand to brush the fur between his horns, and grinned fiercely when his hand came away wet with human blood. He saw the human he had battered, the one bleating orders between bloody coughs, clutching his ribs, and Chi-ratuck’s grin became a rictus of glee. The interlopers may have destroyed much of his work, but they had also reminded him how much he missed the sound of an enemy’s breaking bones. Chi-ratuck wondered for a moment if he could prolong their pain, but glanced at the piles of half completed projects and decided that his employers’ orders took precedence over his own entertainment. He would have to end it quickly.

He moved quickly away from the invaders, most of which were still recovering from the fireball from the one of the Charred Hands. The fools’ leader cried out for one of his underlings to stop him, but Chi-ratuck had already reached his sanctum controls. 

 They had surprised the demon with their initial assault, and again when the runt managed to move forward enough to destroy his staff with the Charred Hand, but this was his sanctum. Even incomplete, it was filled with deadly devices that sprang from his own mind: a mind whose soul purpose was the creation of destruction. _Come, fools! Come and find your death! _

With a sharp downward tug of a lever, Chi-ratuck activated his traps and gleefully watched as the bulk of his foes fell through the floor.

End of Interlude


*****

“Aurora!” Ander cried as the stone floor beneath the red haired sorceress disappeared. The woodsman threw himself toward the newly opened pit, reaching out for the woman, and his fingers closed on her outstretched wrist. Then his chest slammed into the floor as Aurora’s weight threatened to yank him over the pit’s stone lip. His broken ribs shifted as he fought to stop his slow slide, and his shoulder and then his head came free of the stone floor to dangle over the ten foot deep pit, which Ander could now see was full of jagged spikes and blades. 

“Hang on,” he grunted through clinched teeth, barely able to fight off a bout of dizziness. “Going to… get you out.” 

Aurora’s lips moved in response, but her words were drowned out by the heavy drum beat in his temples as he fought to stop his dangerous slide. Suddenly, Meepo appeared from below the woman, clambering over her and then Ander as he scrambled out of the pit. Instantly, the dragon keeper took hold of the much larger woodsman, lending the surprising strength of his small frame to the task, and moments later Ander hoisted Aurora free of the trap with the kobold’s help. As he did so, he caught site of Theo and Pack on the other side of the pit, motionless atop the spikes.

For a horrible moment, Ander stared at his two dead friends, willing them not to be dead. When he finally saw a slight movement from Pack, he rushed to the edge of the pit again. “Pack! I’m coming!”

“Not so loud, boy. We can hear you,” Theo groaned from beneath the halfling.

Ander stopped for a moment, stunned to see that the priest was alive. Then he smiled in astonishment as he saw that Theo had managed to angle his shield so that it had hit the spikes first and deflected most of the impact. The shield would never be used again, and Theo stilled bled heavily from several puncture wounds that the shield hadn’t stopped, but the gruff old man had saved both himself and Pack, although they were both still trapped down at the bottom of the trap. “Don’t worry,” Ander said, “We can get you out.”

“No lad,” the priest called back, his voice weak but firm. “Go finish this. My lord’s grace will protect us till you get back.”

Theo’s comment made Ander turn white. _Ash!_ Ander turned to see his closest friend, the friend he had left to battle the demon alone, staggering like a drunkard over the checkered floor. The feloine showed no visible wounds, but the scout’s lips moved as he mouthed words too quiet to hear and his blade dangled loosely from his hand. A few steps away, the demon stood, laughing. The woodsman saw that many of the demon’s wounds had closed – some had even disappeared – and others knitted themselves before his eyes.

Suddenly, the scout turned, his blade falling from his hands and wild look in his eyes. “You! You killed them all!” the feloine roared, yanking his crossbow from his sack and loading it in a single fluid motion. “I will have revenge!”

Ander watched as Ashrem spun in place to train his crossbow on the demon and kept going; too late the woodsman realized that the scout’s target was at the other end of the room. He watched helplessly as the feloine fired his weapon and the bolt buried itself in Meepo’s shoulder. Only the agility of the small kobold had kept the shaft from burying itself in his chest, but still the dragon keeper was seriously wounded. 

Ander let loose a frustrated scream, “What are you doing, Ash?” 

“He’s under a spell!” Aurora shouted, while kneeling and trying to yank the bolt free from the kobold. “I can’t tell what it is, but he doesn’t have control!” 

The demon laughed again, longer and harder. “Of course he doesn’t have control! This is place is mine, and now _he_ is mine!”

Time seemed to slow for the woodsman as he the demon stood roaring with laughter. Meepo was down and moving feebly, Theo and Pack were at the bottom of a spiked pit, Aurora looked winded from spellcasting, and Ash was under the control of a demon. _We’re going to lose. We’re all going to die._ The thought strangely calmed the woodsman, and he stooped to gather his staff from where it lay near the pit. “Aurora, get ready to hit him with your dragons when I charge, and stay away from Ashrem,” he murmered, just loud enough for the sorceress to hear him, “and keep hitting him until you can’t any more.” He softly clicked his heels together and felt a rush of magic from Icemantle’s Boots. “Then get Theo and Pack out of that pit so you can get the hells out of here. _We’re all going to die, but I’m going to make sure I take him with us!_

Ander leapt forward, the magic of his boots propelling him across the room in a single bound. Aurora’s magic dragon missiles flew by him and smacked into the demon’s chest, and as he flew he felt a sheet of ice graze his back and saw a blue disk appear underneath him, but neither stopped him from driving his staff down on the demon’s head with a furious two handed strike as he landed. 

The demon retreated, and even in his fury Ander saw that the demon did so with uneven steps, as if he was avoiding triggers of some sort. Ander followed, trying his best to tread only in the demon’s path, but was covered with a shower of blue sparks as he tried to keep up. The sparks clouded his thoughts, making it difficult to concentrate on what he was doing. For a heartbeat, he almost stopped and dropped his staff, but from somewhere behind him, he head Pack’s reedy voice.

The bard’s voice seemed muted and far away, as if Ander was stuck in a bank of fog, but it grew stronger, singing a song that seemed familiar, though he had never heard it before. Pack sang of stolen children, and brave friends, and Ander shook his head clear. It told of a long journey and dangers shared, and Ander advanced on the demon, twisting his body to the side as the demon threw its head forward at his chest. It told of new friends found in unexpected places, and Ander snarled, driving the demon back with fierce two handed swings while another pair of magic missiles seared into it. And then it told of a dragon and its rescue, and Ander ran out of luck.

The woodsman heard his left shoulder pop as the demon rammed it solidly and the warrior screamed. His scream was echoed behind him as he saw Ashrem narrowly avoid a jet of flame. The scout tucked and rolled, coming up over the woodsman and burying Razor in the demon’s hip. Ander dragged himself behind the feloine and struggled to his feet, drawing his longknife with his right hand while his left arm hung limp at his side. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Pack and Aurora lifting Theo out of the pit. 

Ander turned back toward Ashrem and the demon as the scout slashed the fiend’s shoulder open. “Now demon, you will…” he hissed, and then stopped as if he had forgotten that he was in a fight for his life. The demon laughed a braying laugh and rammed his horned head directly into the scouts face. 

The woodsman hesitated a moment, weighing the feloine’s chances if he didn’t intervene immediately, and use Icemantle’s boots to spring away, across the room and to the lever laden alcove. Then, with a glance toward the pit to make sure Theo was clear, he lifted the thrown lever and the pit closed. “Get him!” he cried.

Theo, looking bruised and battered but no longer bleeding, charged the fiend, both hands whirling his flail. It struck the beast, but rebounded harmlessly. 

“_Baa-ramyu!_” the demon cried, and then buried his horned head in the priest’s face, stifling the priest’s attempt to close the door. The stone door swiveled quickly on its hinges, and Ander groaned.

“Pack! Aurora!” the woodsman shouted, “Look out behind you! Its…”

It was the biggest wolverine Ander had ever seen, and it was standing over the mauled bodies of several dwarven guards. It growled, roared, and charged across the room, barreling into the demon. 

“Bunny?” Pack said.

“Don’t just stand there, lads,” Theo cried through a bloody mouth, “Finish this!”

A dozen moments later - after knife wounds, flail strikes, magical missiles, sword slashes, and the claws and teeth of a raging wolverine took their toll - Ander watched as Ashrem plunged his sword into the demon’s head. It collapsed like a marionette with cut strings. 

Ander walked gingerly over to the feloine, who stood glaring at the demon as it slid off the blade of his sword. He put a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

The scout didn’t look up as he very simply said, “That felt good.”

*****

Next Time:

Escape and Excitement as our heroes run for the hills!


----------



## skullsmurfer

yes!! kill demons, kill more stuff, then run like hell. thanks for the update i was waiting for it.  can i have some more?


----------



## Rel

[Tick]Man, I love it when the toast of evil gets smeared with a generous dollop of sweet, sticky JUSTICE![/Tick]


----------



## Enkhidu

It just occured to me that the rest of the madlib is filled in:

"Of course, I'm not so sure we would've been so keen on attacking had we known that he could *use our own magic items* against us. And we were all equally suprised when he finally managed to *open the door* and found *a raging wolverine* waiting impatiently..."

By the way, I have it on good authority that the next post will be called "Half-orc on the homefront."


----------



## Dungannon

Enkhidu said:
			
		

> By the way, I have it on good authority that the next post will be called "Half-orc on the homefront."



Aww, you're just trying to appease HULK so he doesn't smash you...


----------



## Enkhidu

Dungannon said:
			
		

> Aww, you're just trying to appease HULK so he doesn't smash you...




Look, if you keep reading ahead in the script how are we supposed to surprise you?


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

Hi all!

D'Shai and I have agreed that the previous post was perhaps the hardest section we have written yet, but not for any reasons that we could figure out. Maybe it was writers block, or memory lapses as to just what happened and at what point, or maybe it was because Roadhouse was on TNT 3 nights in a row. Anyway, we did this little interlude to get our minds back on track and give us a break from the fight. Hope you enjoy.  



Interlude


The floorboards creaked under the weight of the pacing half-orc, groaning in protest with each plodding step. Worm barley noticed the noise, instead losing himself in thoughts about Pack and those that traveled with his little brother.  The hulking warrior turned and took a step back the way he had come, after once again coming to the by now familiar fire pit of his family’s kitchen, when the rustling of feathers gave the giant pause. He slowed, stopping to ruffle the large white owl that rested over the hearth. 

The bird had shown up a few nights after Pack and the others had left Icemist, swooping in through the front doors and perching high in the rafters. Lizon had identified the bird at once as Aurora’s pet, Athena. _No, not pet, ‘familiar’_, Worm corrected himself, still unable to fathom the difference between the two titles. The owl had at first unsettled the half-orc, nearly sending him off on a rampage to find his brother, but Lizon had stopped him, pointing out that the owl was probably sent by Aurora as a sign that they were all just fine. But every night since Athena’s arrival, Worm had found himself pacing the floor, worried and unable to sleep, just as he was now.

“As long as you’re just fine, they’re just fine.” Worm said, still patting the bird on the head.  Yet the statement rang false in Worm’s ears, and made him furious. Finally, he let the anger flow.

“No!” Worm roared, turning to smash his beefy fists into the closest table. The hardwood oval top splintered and cracked with the force of the blow, and the flower vase atop it shattered as it jumped and fell to the flagstone floor. “As long as you’re just fine, _Aurora_ is just fine! Hells! Pack, you’re not a hero!”

“Worm!” Lizon barked, her voice startling the warrior who had thought himself alone. “I will not have you talking nonsense in our home!”

“It’s those damn books and that damn minstrel!” Worm countered a little more harshly than he intended. “He believes those stupid stories about knights and dragons, honor and bravery.”

“And just what is wrong with those things?” The look on his mother’s face told him that he had spoken too quickly. Again. The look in her eye wasn’t too far different from when he had pushed over the switching tree two years ago, and it made him feel every bit the 15 year old boy that she knew him to be.

“Well nothing for a story,” he said defensively. Yet he rallied, “But this is real life and Pack is no knight. He can barely handle that old knife I gave him.”

“You obviously didn’t pay attention to Thadius’ stories like your brother did.” The tiny woman pushed a broom into the Worm’s hands as she spoke, motioning for him to sweep up the mess he had just made. “Just because Pack isn’t able to parry, riposte, and thrust like you doesn’t mean he doesn’t posses what it takes to be a hero. Durnan taught you both how to fight if I remember correctly, and although he didn’t take to it quite like you did, I think he still learned the most important lesson. Right?”

“’Winning a fight is secondary to living through it.’ I know.”

“Besides, he isn’t alone. Theo, Aurora, and Ander went with him, not to mention Ander’s friend who seemed very impressive during the raid. They all did.” 

“Theo’s old, Aurora’s fresh from the city, nobody knows much about Ander and they know even less about his friend. I mean he looks like a leper and...”

“and they need your strength? The great and mighty Wyrm of the Northlands to protect them? What have you done that they haven’t Worm? They fought next to you, even Pack, when the kobolds attacked. They risked their life same as you and they won, just like you did. I know you want to be with them…” Lizon paused and reached up top lay a hand on her son’s shoulder from behind. “But that’s not the way it is.”

Worm felt his mother’s thin arms try to encircle his chest as she tried her best to hug him. “Your brother is already a hero, and so are you.” She gave him one last squeeze and headed back up the staircase toward her bedchambers. “Now clean up and get to bed. The winter chill is almost here and we still have festival plans to attend to.”

Worm grumbled one last grumble as her legs disappeared. “There shouldn’t be a festival without Pack…or the others.”  

Lizon’s voice lilted down from above, “You think Pack would miss Festival? The fastest way to get them home would be to get everything ready. I guarantee you, your little brother would move the heavens and the earth rather than miss the mid-week tale telling contest. Now hurry up.”

Worm made a half-hearted attempt at sweeping up the shards of broken pottery, finally giving up and moving to the window to look out at the nearly full moon in a clear sky. He looked for a while, and sighed, “Hells, Pack, you’re not a hero…” 


End of Interlude


----------



## Bubbalicious

That should keep the worm fans happy until his full-time return to the story.  His return will be very, very soon, so look forward to lots of "Worm smash"!!

(Oh, sorry Hulk, didn't mean to step on your toes) (Not that a halfling stepping on your toes would hurt much)  (Maybe if I ask D'Shai for a pair of +50 boots of toe-stomping!)


----------



## Rel

Thank you sirs, may I have another?


----------



## LiVeWiRe

Enk&D'Shai said:
			
		

> “Pack! Aurora!” the woodsman shouted, “Look out behind you! Its…”
> 
> It was the biggest wolverine Ander had ever seen, and it was standing over the mauled bodies of several dwarven guards. It growled, roared, and charged across the room, barreling into the demon.
> 
> “Bunny?” Pack said.
> 
> “Don’t just stand there, lads,” Theo cried through a bloody mouth, “Finish this!”
> 
> A dozen moments later - after knife wounds, flail strikes, magical missiles, sword slashes, and the claws and teeth of a raging wolverine took their toll - Ander watched as Ashrem plunged his sword into the demon’s head. It collapsed like a marionette with cut strings.
> 
> Ander walked gingerly over to the feloine, who stood glaring at the demon as it slid off the blade of his sword. He put a hand on his friend’s shoulder.
> 
> The scout didn’t look up as he very simply said, “That felt good.”




That is classic--"Bunny?"!  

Was Ash controlled by a spell from the demon or some supernatural ability of the demon?  And, did it simply wear off or did Pack's singing have anything to do with Ash's regaining his senses?

Fascinating characters, compelling action, gripping drama, terrific dialogue and gigantic wolverines named 'Bunny'...it's ALL right here!    

-LW


----------



## LiVeWiRe

Bubbalicious said:
			
		

> That should keep the worm fans happy until his full-time return to the story.  His return will be very, very soon, so look forward to lots of "Worm smash"!!
> 
> (Oh, sorry Hulk, didn't mean to step on your toes) (Not that a halfling stepping on your toes would hurt much)  (Maybe if I ask D'Shai for a pair of +50 boots of toe-stomping!)




_*grumble, grumble_-Keep Hulk happy,-_grumble_-Title for next Small Beginnings thread=Hulk's Story Hour-_grumble, grumble..._


----------



## Bubbalicious

LiVeWiRe said:
			
		

> _*grumble, grumble_-Keep Hulk happy,-_grumble_-Title for next Small Beginnings thread=Hulk's Story Hour-_grumble, grumble..._




It's not about making Hulk happy, it's just about not making him MAD!!!  He's big, green, and mean, and he could darned well use a halfling as a toothpick!!

BTW, Livewire, if you think a wolverine named "Bunny" is funny... just wait until you meet a wolverine named "Badger"!!


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

*The Height of Geekiness*

What in blue blazes are you doing, D'Shai?

Working on a congratulations card for Fett and family.

I can see that, but why did you include a stat block of Little Fett?

So Fett knows what all of his abilites are. You know, things like

*Air Activated Urination*(Ex): Whenever Little Fett has his diaper changed, he can make an automatic attempt to pee on the diaper changer as a ranged touch attack with a +4 circumstance bonus. Rules for cover apply.

Good point. Tip of the Day?

In honor of Fett's new clone... I mean son... this post's TotD will be supplied by Fett, when he finally gets a chance to read this post.

Sounds good to me. Now push the submit button.

*push!*


*****

_“Aurora!” The little girl heard her name roll indistinctly over the hills through the distant storm, as if pushed along by rumbles of thunder. With a giggle, she tossed her hair over her shoulder and looked up at her mother, who hugged her close and laughed as the latest thunderous wave washed over them. She snuggled back on her mother’s lap and the two began to hum along with the storm. “Aurora!” She heard her name again, this time clearer and stronger._

“Aurora!”

The sorceress awoke with a start, finding herself sitting cross-legged on the floor of the Master’s lair. She shook her head gingerly, clearing the fog in her head, and wondered for a moment how she had come to sit there. “What happened?” she asked of no one in particular.

“Your eyes glazed over and you just sat down and started humming.” Pack replied, peeking his head from behind Ashrem as the feloine helped the Aurora to her feet. “Say, you don’t know that name of the tune you were humming, do you? I know I’ve heard it before, but I can’t remember where. Definitely a woman singing it though, I’ll never forget that voice… Am I rambling?”

“Yes.” Aurora and Ashrem simultaneously supplied. The sorceress looked at the feloine, who regarded her with what she assumed was amusement, and she suddenly realized what it was she had been doing before her moment of befuddlement. “Oh! Ashrem, I think we can assume that this spell-trap manifests a confusion spell. I studied them at the academy. If I am remembering correctly, it copies the effect of powdered root from a dragon heart blossom. It is a difficult spell, beyond my ability, and I think any mage’s ability that I have ever met.”

“From that diagnosis, it seems we were all very lucky that the effects were short lived,” Ashrem remarked softly, already engrossed in studying the activation tile again. “Having felt the effects, I think I would like to avoid any future encounters with such magic.”

“Should we move on to the next set of tiles?” Aurora asked, groaning inwardly as she felt the exhaustion - from the fight with the Master, the quick and furious search trough the room’s traps, and not least the lingering effects of the confusion – finally catch up with her.

“These were the last,” the feloine replied, standing back up and dusting off his hands. “Thank you for your assistance; though my skills proved equal to the task of finding the more mechanical traps, without your aid I never would have been able to correctly identify the spells associated with triggers.”

“So what are we looking at, Ash?” Aurora heard Ander say from across the room. She looked over to see the disheveled but still handsome young man fidgeting under Theo’s care. She watched as he itched underneath a newly wrapped bandage and continued, “Is this room safe?”

“For a time, I believe,” Ashrem answered. “We have identified the functions of the levers and the traps that they activate; however, we have found no other exits. I fear we must either leave immediately, before suspicion falls on us, or hope that this creature had strict rules regarding entering its chambers. I would not rely heavily on the latter.” 

“Me neither. But…” Aurora watched as Ander put a hand to his bandaged ribs with a sharp intake of breath, and her brow furrowed as she suddenly realized that Theo and Pack had exhausted their healing magic on the rest of the group, all at the woodsman’s insistence. _Hangman’s Hood, Ander, why do you always have to be so… so… oooh!_ “But I think that we can afford a break. Thanks to Aurora’s magic we’ve cleaned up the mess left by Pack’s, er, ‘Bunny’, and brought everything inside, so I think we’ll be just fine until the next set of guards come. And a candle’s time would do us all some good, if only to catch our breath for a bit more. Right?” The sorceress nodded involuntarily and sighed as everyone else’s head also bobbed. At least she wasn’t the only one who needed a break.

“Good.” Ander continued. “Now all we have to do is think of a way to get those kids out of the slave pens without bloodshed. Especially ours.”

The room erupted in a steady but quiet stream of discussion: Ashrem, Theo, and Ander alternately stood and sat, seemingly examining and casting aside plan after plan, and Pack went back to sifting through the item and paper laden shelves and tables that lined the walls. She took a step toward the halfling to join him in his impromptu treasure hunt, and then spun around to give Meepo a warning not to touch anything only to find that he wasn’t in his customary spot. In fact, she realized, he hadn’t been with her the entire time she had been working with Ashrem.

Aurora scanned the room, half-expecting to find Meepo hiding amongst the piles of parchment, and found him in the far corner of the room, once again standing over the Master’s body and stabbing mechanically. “Meepo! I told you before to stop that!” 

The kobold halted at the sorceress’ command, tilting his head in what Aurora now knew as a confused expression. From the knot of planners on the other side of the room, she heard Ashrem, “Let it have its fun, Aurora. This latest diversion keeps it out from underfoot, and it is obvious that your previous admonishments have made no impact. It would not surprise me to find that the little beast could not understand them in the first place.” 

“Ash, leave it alone,” she heard Ander say quietly as she moved to stand beside her little friend. _At least now Ander knows you’re a person, Meepo._

 She sighed as she approached, wincing as Meepo gave another thunk to the Master’s body. _How are you ever going to teach your tribe how to act civilized if you don’t?_  “He’s dead Meepo,” she explained for a third time, “and we don’t desecrate the bodies of our enemies. The gods don’t approve of that. We must show that we are better than that. Understand?”

The sorceress held Meepo’s gaze until she saw a spark of understanding in the kobold’s eyes. Then she patted her scaly friend on the head. The little warrior simply shrugged his shoulders and hopped away, heading to where Pack was rummaging through the endless clutter piled throughout the room. 

For a moment, she considered joining the tiny pair. Pack’s ever growing pile of what he deemed valuable had grown as tall as the bard already, and was growing ever higher (though more slowly) with Meepo’s ‘help.’ Yet something held her back from sifting through the collection of exquisitely crafted pieces the Master had collected.

_The Master…_ Aurora had seen death before - mostly on this trip - and each time it amazed the young woman how alive the dead looked, almost as if they were only trapped in some eternal slumber. The Master was no different: his head sprawled to one side, hiding the gash from Ashrem’s sword; his arms and legs neatly tucked by his side from when Theo and Ashrem had carried him out of the way; his breathing shallow. 

_Breathing?!_ The sorceress gasped, nearly falling over herself as she backed away. 

“Ander?” she whispered, hoping to catch the woodsman’s ear without disturbing the Master, but the din from the trio of planners proved so loud enough to drown out anything less than a scream. Yet the Master had heard, and he opened one baleful eye that fixed on the Aurora’s pale face. 

“Meepo missile!” Aurora ducked as the kobold vaulted over her from a nearby table. The dragon keeper slammed into the demon spear point first, nearly snapping the thick hafted weapon in half. The kobold clung to the wooden shaft as it recoiled and was slammed against the wall. The resounding collision brought everyone in the room running, weapon in hand. They were greeted by the sight of Meepo’s spear protruding from the demon’s chest like a flagpole waving in the breeze. 

“He’s still alive!” Aurora said, a lump rising in her throat. 

“What, Meepo?” Pack asked, “Of course he’s alive. A little confused maybe after a tumble like that, but…” 

“No, Pack,” Ander said through gritted teeth, “the demon.”

“But we killed him already…Ashrem put his sword through his cheek,” the halfling took one of the creature’s horns and moved its shaggy head to the side. “See?” he said, pointing to the demon’s perfectly smooth face. The halfling glanced down, seemingly confused, and checked the other side, which was also smooth with new skin. “Hey look, his wounds are healing,” he said excitedly and then stopped as his face paled. “Wait a… Gods! His wounds are healing!” Pack dropped the Master’s head with a thump as if it had bitten him. For a half a moment, Aurora wondered if it had.

“Ashrem,” Ander ? from Aurora’s side, but the woodsman didn’t even need to give the order as the feloine drew his weapon and shoved it through its neck, pinning the demon to the stone floor. The sorceress watched in horror as he removed the wavering spear from the fiend’s chest only to have the wound slowly close before their eyes.

“Well this is a new development,” rumbled Theo, breaking the silence.


***


Aurora sat hunched over one of the desks in the room, putting the last touches on the document. She lifted it and blew on the still tacky ink before showing it to Ashrem, “Like this?” The feloine nodded and bent back over his own parchment. Satisfied for the moment, Aurora looked around while she massaged her sore fingers. 

Theo and Ashrem worked side by side across the table from the sorceress, while Pack worked nearby at a smaller table. Across each were stacks of papers and parchment, all of which had samples of the demon’s script, and several half completed attempts to create a believable order to allow the companions to move ‘all slaves slated for the ritual’ as well as any others they chose. Meepo lay sprawled underneath the table with parchment of his own, his feet kicking absentmindedly in the air. He pored over the page, occasionally making a furious assault on in with multi-colored charcoal sticks pulled from the demon’s stores.

In the corner of the room, Ander watched over the demon’s body, using Meepo’s spear and Ashrem’s sword to stay one step ahead of the demon’s ever closing wounds. She watched his back as he worked until he turned around and showed a grim face covered with blood and gore. Aurora looked quickly away for fear that she would retch, and thanked the gods that she wasn’t the one who had such an unpleasant, if necessary, task. Then she picked up her quill and set to work again. _Even if I can’t help, at least I can make it shorter._

As she worked, she wondered about the moments after her discovery: _I’ll take care of this_, Ashrem had said, a cruel and eager smile creeping over his jaws. _No Ash_, Ander had replied, _I need you making those papers, like we agreed. He and his kind owe me, Ander. They owe more than you, lad_, Theo had rumbled. _Theo’s right, Ash, our job is to get those kids out, and that means you making sure those orders look believable._ It had gotten worse when they discovered that they only way to kill the demon was with acid: a substance they didn’t have and that was conspicuously absent from the traps in the demon’s sanctum. And though they had eventually decided upon trapping the creature in its own pit, it still meant that at least one of them would be forced to do the unthinkable while the others finished forging documents.

Aurora worked as swiftly as she could, pausing only to sneak an occasional glance over at the woodsman, and she finished quickly. The others finished close behind, and Ashrem looked over them one last time before painstakingly signing his name to the bottom of each order (in several languages, based on what guards they ran across) and fixing a wax seal with the demon’s signet to each. By the time he scooped up the forged orders and handed them to Aurora, she had overseen the stowing of the most valuable pieces in the demon’s collection – a feathered cloak, a breastplate of boiled leather, a gilt wooden shield, three intricately carved staves of wood and ivory and silver, an articulated statue of a nightingale, a full suit of chain mail with a matching straight edged sword and dagger, a portable set of alchemical tools complete with gems both whole and ground into dust, a quartet of flasks with colorful liquid, a ruby ring wrought like a snake devouring its own tail, a heavy lion-headed club, and most strangely, a magnificent set of clothing, from hat to boots, in a style Aurora recognized as coming from Oscourt. To this she added a set of books and papers that Pack said looked like the list of family accounts from Durnan's back room. Meanwhile, Ander had manhandled the demon over to the pit. 

When the demon disappeared into the pit with a sickly wet thump, Aurora winced, only turning back after the Ashrem threw the lever to once again close the pit and deactivate the rooms traps. Then she passed her hands over Ander’s muscled frame, using her magic to clean the gore from his skin and hair and armor, paying special attention to his face. His brown eyes were filled with pain, and she found tears welling in her own eyes before she managed to wrench herself away. 

Ander motioned to Theo, who opened his arms and called out in his thunderous voice, “_Baa-ramyu!_” As soon as the door opened a shoulder’s width, Ashrem bolted through the door, his sword at the ready, and then stuck and arm through the widening gap and motioned the rest of the companions to follow. Ander was first, followed by Pack. Theo nodded to the girl and she gulped. “Here we go, I guess,” she said as she entered the hallway. 

*****

Once again, congratulations from all of us, Fett!


----------



## threshel

Whew!

I have just finished reading all the story posts to date, and breathlessly wait for more!
Excellent story, excellent characters.  I love the revolving point of view.

J


----------



## Ashy

Bravo!!!!!


----------



## Ashy

Bravo!!!!!


----------



## Dungannon

Once again, it's up to li'l ole Meepo to save the party.  So Enk, are you still under threat of indefinite couch time if anything bad happens to Meepo? (or d'shai, if it's your wife who plays Aurora. I can't remember offhand.)

Oh, and congratulations on the new addition, Fett.


----------



## dshai527

Bad things would be afoot at the circle K if anything ever happened to Meepo (and believe me I've tried several times). The couch being the least of them...Lucky for me Meepo is on hiatus in the current story arch. It was a sad parting, but the return will be oh so much fun for our small hero. Hint: He aint so small anymore.....


----------



## Enkhidu

Arrgh! I just reread the post and found that we left out a fairly important piece of info. I'll go back and add it in.


----------



## Dungannon

Okay, I reread the post but can't find what you added Enk.  What was it?


----------



## Enkhidu

Ummmmmmmm, Nothing! The post was perfect the first time around! Nothig to see here!

Reread the last part about the haul - I added one thing in that paragraph.


----------



## fett527

Thank you to Enk and Dshai for the kind words.  Please excuse the lack of brevity in the following, I need to vent somehow:

Tip o' the day-  Do not let an on-call doctor, who doesn't even come in to the hospital after sending your wife there in the first place, to see if she is in labor after having contractions that are 5 minutes apart for 6 hours, send your very exhausted wife home because she hasn't made "progress" or you too could be a part of an emergency C-section later that day.  Oh yeah, you also won't be able to take your newborn son home for almost two weeks as he has antibiotics injected through his head.


----------



## HULK

HULK's Story Hour on 2nd page?  

Demon Master is dead HULK thinks, but not sure about plan.

HULK thank Enk&Dshai for story about WORM!

HULK not hurt Bubblegum Halfling, you bring HULK good news--WORM be back very soon!!

Dungannon smart reader.

'fraidy deadwire not so smart reader.

HULK congratulate fett on little fett!


----------



## Enkhidu

Tomorrow, I'll include Fett's TotD in the regualr post. But mainly this post was just to commemorate the 11,527th view of the story hour.


----------



## LiVeWiRe

HULK said:
			
		

> HULK's Story Hour on 2nd page?
> 
> Demon Master is dead HULK thinks, but not sure about plan.
> 
> HULK thank Enk&Dshai for story about WORM!
> 
> HULK not hurt Bubblegum Halfling, you bring HULK good news--WORM be back very soon!!
> 
> Dungannon smart reader.
> 
> 'fraidy deadwire not so smart reader.
> 
> HULK congratulate fett on little fett!




Geez, Hulk why don't you just go ahead and put a link to the SH in your sig except instead of saying "Check Out the Small Beginnings SH", put "Check Out Hulk's Story Hour"?!?!?

Oh, and a big Congrats to Mr. & Mrs. Fett on the birth of their son!  

-LW


----------



## Enkhidu

I'm going to give you all a sneaky peek at something I hinted at earlier. Keep in mind that the image isn't very good because I suck at manipulating images away from their native type. This should give you an inkling of what we're looking at doing for those who want a collection. The pic is attached.


----------



## Rel

First and most importantly, Fett, I hope that your wife and child are doing well.  It sounds like the birth didn't go as smoothly as you might have hoped (this may well be a vast understatement and for that I apologize).  I wish you all well and I'll give you the only unsolicited advice that I give to any new father:  Do whatever you have to do to make it through the first 2 months.  After that it's still tough but the baby starts to smile and that makes it a lot easier to endure.   

It has been a couple of weeks since I had a chance to catch up on the Story Hour what with NC Game Day IV and having a busy work schedule but I enjoyed the last update a lot.  And the annotated work that Enk just posted looks kickass!  Looking forward to that a LOT.

Keep up the good work!


----------



## Enkhidu

By the way, as of my last conversation with Fett, everybody is home and OK. And tired. Can't forget tired. The little tyke has a line of people around the block waiting to get a chance to help out with him, so I don't think he'll want for attention any time soon.

By the way the format that you saw - the small type side by side? There's a reason for that layout.


----------



## brellin

Hi my name is brellin and I just want to say that this sh rocks and i was thinking that maybe Meepo should become a priest of the Rora Angel
ho and plese update soon 
    P.S. I'm glad your wife and son are o.k. Mr. Fett


----------



## Dungannon

Is Uncle Enk in that line, or are you "graciously" stepping aside to let family take over?


----------



## brellin

i just read my post and i ment to say "oh" not "ho"


----------



## dshai527

Its okay brellin we get that a lot. Welcome aboard. 

Sorry about the delay for the new stuff, especially since it is only a couple more before we wrap up Small and kick off the second part...where scores can really change...but the pdf and extras took up more time than we thought. Little Enks and Fetts running amok whats next, beside my job getting disolved in a corporate merger, HA.(Anyone need an information security professional...cheap!) Anyway, the new post should be up very very soon and if I get my lawn mowed maybe I can fill in the rogues gallery with some DM extras...knowing my lawn you'll be waiting til fett gets back. 

Til then make fun of Enk and try not to throw anything that will break.


----------



## fett527

Thanks to everyone on the kind words; new readers and old.  I apologize for the post I put up (especially since it was the tip o' the day) but I just was not in a good mood at the time.  Everyone is doing well and home from the hospital (FINALLLY!!!!!) as of Thursday.  Lil' Fett had to stay in the ICN for 10 days while he finished off his antibiotic regimen.  Longest 10 days of my life.  Maybe dshai and I will get something going for the rogue's gallery someday I hope.


----------



## LiVeWiRe

Enkhidu said:
			
		

> I'm going to give you all a sneaky peek at something I hinted at earlier. Keep in mind that the image isn't very good because I suck at manipulating images away from their native type. This should give you an inkling of what we're looking at doing for those who want a collection. The pic is attached.




I have a comment and a question:

Comment: That looks *GREAT*!

Question:  *WHEN???*

-LW


----------



## LiVeWiRe

fett527 said:
			
		

> Thanks to everyone on the kind words; new readers and old.  I apologize for the post I put up (especially since it was the tip o' the day) but I just was not in a good mood at the time.  Everyone is doing well and home from the hospital (FINALLLY!!!!!) as of Thursday.  Lil' Fett had to stay in the ICN for 10 days while he finished off his antibiotic regimen.  Longest 10 days of my life.  Maybe dshai and I will get something going for the rogue's gallery someday I hope.




No problem fett...it's certainly understandable given the situation.  If you and dshai could get something going again in the Rogue's Gallery, then that would be 'icing on the cake'!  

I know you're busy (obviously) and dshai has other (more important) concerns himself so no problem if it doesn't happen.  Guess dshai is lost somewhere in his lawn!  

-LW


----------



## dshai527

Ha! I never get lost, especially in my own backyard, but doing battle with plants is hard work. They are immune to critical hits and mind affecting spells (which means I can't even kidnap Enk and make him use his cheesy jokes on them.) My lawn mower is +4 and keen, but it is still just a push mower and the enemy outnumbers me by a lot. If I had owned my own home at first level I could have choosen plant as my favored enemy, but alas I did not. I chose Enk. (Just another thing I can blame on him. Damn you Enk.) Anyway we will get some stats up soon..most likely the Demon Master stats, the charred hand glove, and the master's lair and traps. See you soon.


----------



## Ashy

Enk, can you drop an email to me, please?  Thanks!


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

*The Next installment, part 74*

I think they’re on to us!

Who?

You know. _Them_.

No I don’t know. What are you talking about?

The invisible forces determined to keep us from posting to our story hour. 

The what?

You know, the sinister beings that keep casting confusions and slow spells at us to make it for us harder to post. 

You've been wearing your tinfoil hat again, haven't you?

Yes, but that’s not important right now. We finally made our saving throw and we are ready to post.

That's the most riduclous thing I've ever heard.

Then how do you explain the long delay for a new post?

... 

Well?

Sinister invisible beings and failed saving throws?

That’s what I thought. Tip O the day: Always have your story straight before dealing with the public. Right, Enk? 

Shut up and pass me the aluminum foil.

*****

“I don’t think this is working, Ander,” Theo whispered as he leaned toward the young woodsman. Ander nodded almost imperceptibly and cocked his head to one side, drawing the priests’ gaze a dozen paces away to where Aurora, Meepo, and Pack anxiously waited. Nearby, three heavily armed guards examined the forged documents that had been the center piece of the friends’ brilliant escape plan. Behind the arguing dwarves, a group of seven adults and two dozen children huddled in a squat torchlit cage barely a plow row wide. Theo took a moment to search for familiar faces lit by firelight: _Rel, Dawn, Dun, Potter, Wire, Ashie, and no sign of the others_. Theo scowled and sighed. _At least all the children made it.  The rest look like they’re from the tribes_. Behind the cage, he could see Ashrem’s ghostly silhouette as the scout moved through the shadows, ready to attack if negotiations went sour.

“Those papers have gotten us this far. It’ll work one more time.” Ander replied in a voice so quiet Theo had to strain to hear it. “They look like their just being careful. No need to worry.” The woodsman’s white knuckles, wrapped tightly around his staff, belied the confidence of his words. 

Theo gave a quiet huff in half hearted agreement and looked back over to the pens. The loosely ensconced torches cast a ominous glow over the scene, and Theo watched for a moment as one of the guards studiously scoured over the document, pointing a squat and grubby finger first at one place, and then another, while the dwarves jabbered amongst themselves. Just when it seemed that a decision had finally been made, Theo groaned inwardly as the trio of guards flipped the document over and began arguing again. “Spear and hammer! They had it upside down?” he rumbled in frustration, a bit more loudly than he had meant. Six heads turned his way for an overlong heartbeat, until Meepo barked at the dwarves in their strange language and pointed back at the parchment, which sparked a new round of arguments. Aurora held the priest’s gaze for a moment as she shrugged her shoulders. 

Suddenly Meepo stomped his feet and slapped his tail against the ground, and then drew himself up in as dignified a manner as Theo supposed the dragon keeper was capable. The kobold let a hand drop to his makeshift belt and loincloth, and withdrew a battered roll of parchment. He unfurled it and presented it to the dwarves, whose eyes widened in understanding as they nodded gravely and gave a little nod to Aurora. Then they raced to the cage as if the demon itself was behind them and began ushering out the prisoners within, pausing only to shackle them together before presenting their leader chain to the girl. After a heartbeat’s hesitation, she took the thin chain and led the chain gang away. 

One by one, the priest’s friends fell in beside the line of prisoners until Theo was left alone looking down at a single piece of forgotten parchment: a stick figure portrait of the demon, curved horns and all, presenting a line of humans to a fire-breathing angel with long red hair.


***


“No I’m not kidding,” Theo huffed as he crested the rise, his legs aching from the unyielding pace Ashrem set as he scouted the way back up the city hill, and his arms burning from the whimpering child he cradled. 

“I can’t believe it,” grunted Ander, straining under the weight of the girl hanging from his neck. “Stick people. Why did we even bother with the other ones?”

Pack piped up from behind the woodsman, where he helped another child along as quickly as he could, looking like Worm when he walked Father Lion home after a night of too heavy drinking. “If it makes you feel better, Ander, I think they couldn’t read. I think they recognized the seal, but I think they just didn’t understand what they were supposed to do, and I think they were too proud to admit it, and…”

“I get it, Pack!” the woodman snapped as his pace faltered for a moment. Theo slowed, allowing the sweating and red faced young man to come even with the priest.

“Ander, pass her to me. I need to even out my load or I’ll be spending more time balancing myself than walking.” 

“No, I….” Ander began, shaking his head, but Theo narrowed his eyes in disapproval. _I know how much you’re hurt, lad. Don’t make me have to tell the lass_. “…Thanks. I need to make sure we’re not being followed anyway.”

The older man shifted his current charge to accept the second and his shoulders groaned in protest. _Still_, he thought, _better to have a pair of tired shoulders than a lad who worked himself to death_. Then, after a moment spent settling the children and catching his breath, he pushed on, plodding forward like an old plow horse, and humming an old cadence to himself. He quickly left Ander, breathing shallowly and gently holding his ribs, behind.

He had just hit his marching rhythm when the trumpeted alarms rang throughout the caverns. 

“They must have found him!” Ander yelled. “Ashrem, get us out of here! Make sure everyone stays together, and help the children! Pick them up and carry them if you have to! Now move!” 

Instantly, Theo saw the chains holding the prisoners together grow taught as Ashrem set a blistering pace timed to a fast moving ditty vocalized by the ever helpful Pack. Even Theo felt invigorated and managed to keep pace with the group, but the priest knew that it would only be a matter of time before they were overrun by dwarves, kobolds, and their ant-like steeds.  

Pack’s song repeated three times before the thundering beat of mounted riders echoed throughout the cavern drowning out the bard. “We’ll have to fight,” he thundered, “and hope for the best!” 

“No, you have to get them out.” Ander’s voice seemed distant despite the fact that the woodsman loped alongside the priest and a quick glance told the healer that the boy’s wounds were worse than even the priest thought. The warrior would soon be unable to run at all. Theo nodded, knowing full well what the young man’s intentions were and wishing that it could be him instead. “Zuras watch over you lad.”

The woodsman only nodded quickly and slowed his pace, pulling his sword as he dropped from the old man’s view. 

“..and pray for us.”


***


Ander let the tip of his newly looted sword, fresh from the demon’s hoard, sink easily into the gravel beside the lit torch he had fixed there. When he let it go it wobbled slightly, a match for the woodsman himself who likewise swayed in a nonexistent breeze. The young man shook his head and took a deep breath only to be rewarded with a searing, stabbing pain in his chest, as if invisible fey creatures skewered him with red hot spears. The pain shocked him for a moment, and cleared his head.

The sword still swayed even after Ander did not, as if in anticipation of the coming fight. _Patience. First we have to slow them down_. With practiced ease the woodsman drew and slung his bow, taking extra care to fluff his arrows: _Just like shooting birds in flight_…

The ash bow had never felt heavier in his hands, yet at the same time it had never felt more comfortable as he drew and nocked his first arrow, sighting down his bracered arm at the wall of light he had created with torches set at regular intervals. A calm settled over him as the first of the riders emerged from the shadows and time seemed to slow for the lone warrior as he loosed his first arrow. _Birds in flight_… The shaft flew true, catapulting the unsuspecting dwarven rider from its centaur-ant mount, but Ander was oblivious to the effect as he mechanically drew and fired.

Arrow after arrow found its mark, but still the riders charged forward and when the cavern itself trembled with the thundering horde Ander tossed aside the bow. As the shadow of the charging lead rider fell over him, the woodsman snatched his sword from its earthen sheath and twisted aside, dodging the hurtling spear and cleaving through its owner. Other riders rushed by the lone ranger, making for the sounds of the escaped slaves, but Ander’s reflexes proved equal to the task as his blade drew blood and ichor from riders and mounts as each pair darted past. 

Too late he realized his mistake, as a spear caught in his shoulder, wheeling him around and showing him just how effectively the riders’ steeds had encircled him. The armored ants slashed and clawed at the warrior, reminding him that the underground mounts showed as much cunning as their riders. 

The woodsman left a wide trail of his own blood as he broke through an opening and leapt atop a clear outcropping of stone jutting from the wall. For a moment the creatures balked, _I might just get out of this alive after al..._

The javelin, thrown from the one of the still approaching second wave, pierced his chest with a thump and Ander stared in disbelief at the wooden stake protruding from his leather jerkin before he slumped against the uneven cavern wall. His sword slipped feebly from his grasp, landing on the smooth top of the stone with a ringing sound, and glanced over the battlefield. _Six, I got six. Not enough. Need one more_.

With a grunt Ander rose and drew his long knife, summoning the last of his strength for one final stand and one sliver more of hope for those he protected.  With a wild howl fit for a raging wolf, he leapt at the nearest dwarf, _One more! _

The ranger sailed through the air, only to see his target’s head disappear in a flash of violet as two dragon headed missiles removed it from his body. At the same time, the rider’s mount squealed and clutched its face, a crossbow bolt protruding from its eye. Ander landed with a thud on the unforgiving ground and gasped in pain as his ribs shifted.

Suddenly Ashrem’s black form was amidst the enemy slashing wildly at anything that ventured near the wounded woodsman. A slender hand pulled Ander backwards as its matching extremity loosed another volley of dragon missles. 

“We came here together! We leave here together!” Aurora said before conjuring a sphere of violet flame that rolled into the confused tangle of insects and dwarves, allowing Ashrem to retreat to the relative safety of the companions and drag Ander away from the tumult of dwarves, ants, and fire.

“She’s right lad, you don’t get to play dead hero today!” Ander looked up weakly at the old priest, who smiled grimly down upon the younger man. “At least, not alone,” he continued, more quietly. “Now look sharp – they’re regrouping for a charge!”

“Not if I can help it,” said Aurora, and Ander watched as she sent her purple flame rolling across their forming line.”

“That’s right!” Pack said, coming from seemingly out of nowhere to stand next to the still prone woodsman. “Not if we can help it! Don’t worry, Ander we’re going to get you out of here,” said Pack, stepping between the woodsman and the enemy with a look of growing concern in his eyes, “Just don’t do something silly in the meantime, like bleed to death.”

“I’ll try not too.”

“Here they come,” thundered Theo. From behind Pack, Ander could see that the riders had formed a small line and had stepped up to charge.

The woodsman struggled to his feet and stepped into the gap next to Pack. “This is it, isn’t it?” Pack said.

“Aye, it is.” Theo rumbled.

“On three, we countercharge,” Ander said. “One, Two…”

Ander was knocked from his feet from behind, as a wave of oversized rats poured past the friends. At their head, astride a gargantuan mole, rode Balsag. The bugbear and his rodent force smashed into the enemy, scattering the demon’s minions like twigs in a brisk wind.

“Dead men don’t pay debts!” the bugbear cried. “I thought you might need additional help! With additional fees of course! Now let’s finish this thing so I can get my gold!”

 “You heard him,” Theo rumbled, “let’s finish it!”

Ander, broken, beaten, bleeding, yet for the first time hopeful, tried to stand, found he did not have the strength, and fell into darkness.


*****

Next time:

Is this the end of Small Beginnings?


----------



## Dungannon

> Theo took a moment to search for familiar faces lit by firelight: Rel, Dawn, *Dun*, Potter, Wire, Ashie, and no sign of the others.



Woohoo!! I made it into a storyhour!   Although, I can't help but notice the absence of Hulk.  Are you two sure that was wise?


----------



## HULK

HULK like way fighting described.

HULK thought Ander going to die.

HULK not trust bugbear.

Dungannon--HULK already in story hour as WORM.  
Enk&DShai can't use HULK because of fancy legal words.

HULK make present for 'fraidy deadwire.


----------



## Ashy

Groovy....


----------



## Spider_Jerusalem

*Catch up time*

Enk&D'Shai,

It is has been about 26 months, give or take a week or two. I apologise for being away for so long (university was a little more involving than expected). However, I'm back.

I'm going to catch up with this story hour and start posting relevant material, rather than this drivel that you're reading. I've avoided scanning through the many pages, though I see that the half-orc has become a star. Good, always thought he had a bucket-load of potential even from the little intro bit that I read.

Anyway, I just wanted to say hi, and now I'm reading again. 

Spider_Jerusalem

plus... Ice, Luck and Honour is coming back (which is why I'm back on here, other than to read everyone else's stories and poach ideas).


----------



## Rel

Firstly, I'm very sorry it has taken me so long to check in and read this update.  I went on vacation around the time it was posted and I've been playing catch-up with work ever since I got back.  But it was well worth the wait.

I appreciate the cameo and the battle scene with Ander was intense.  I really did think it was curtains for him with the way you built it up.  And great job bringing Balsag and the rat-horde in.  Once again you take the material from the module and run with it.  Kudos.

And I'm totally with you on the "Invisible forces that conspire to prevent story hour updating".  I'm hoping to change that tomorrow though.

Thanks again for another excellent update.


----------



## dshai527

Spider! Good to have ya back. Been awhile. Hope you like what you missed otherwise we'll have to do it over again til we get it right. Dammit. 

Rel, I hope your vacation was relaxing and fun. More relaxing though, unless it was supposed to be the fun kind, or if you don't find relaxing fun.

Well the invisible forces have struck again. Since they could not beat me with the lawn demons they went microscopic on me and attacked my sinuses. I have been laid up for a few, but we are puttin the polish on the last post and should have it up by the weekend. Just hold on til then. 

Quote from my wife on how to deal with evil villains in real life."Just walk up to him and say 'Roll Initiative' and then punch him in the face!" Man, I love her.


----------



## LiVeWiRe

Welcome back Spider!  Think that's almost it from the 'old' gang...except for Black Bard?

Thanks for the cameo--and for it being Hulkless.   

I too thought it was the end of Ander and all the talk about the "end of small beginnings" really got me thinking that it could be the end for one or more of the heroes.  But, thankfully that wasn't the case! 

Looking forward to the next update!  Get well soon Dshai!

-LW


----------



## Badger

Well, I don't know if I qualified as an official one of the gang, but I did manage to win some dice...

Glad to see the story back, as well as the vanguard responding once more.

*reattaches lurking device*


----------



## LiVeWiRe

Badger said:
			
		

> Well, I don't know if I qualified as an official one of the gang, but I did manage to win some dice...
> 
> Glad to see the story back, as well as the vanguard responding once more.
> 
> *reattaches lurking device*




Badger,

Yep, you're an "official one of the gang"...glad to see you back!   

-LW


----------



## fett527

Hail! Hail! The gangs all here!


----------



## Spider_Jerusalem

The original bastion of support, indeed. Nice to see most people still around! Where oh where has Black Bard gone?

I'm handing in my dissertation today, so next few days is catch up time. Expect some tear-jerking replies very soon...

Yours wantonly,

Spider Jerusalem

ps. Incarceri was a doddle to escape from. Bloody planar prisons, I ran free after two days and bang, two years have passed. Arse.


----------



## fett527

Ashy, people would like to know the status of this:

http://www.enworld.org/forums/showthread.php?p=1530359#post1530359


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

*Untitled, for her pleasure*

Here we are at last. The End of the Beginnings. 

Please don't tell me your going to cry.

*Sniff* I'm not crying! 

Crybaby.

*Sniff* I can't go on. You do it. 

Oh for crying out loud....

I said I'm not crying, leave me alone. 

Oh, just tell them the news.

Well with every great ending...

...and this one qualifies...

...comes a new beginning. Aurora and I are happy to announce our new beginning.

From the company that brought you little Enk and Little Fett.

K-Tel brought us those? Anyway our little DM should arrive in time for Christmas and in a few years be taking on new players, so sign up now. 

Tip O' the day - Keeping up with the Jones'...thats all I got.

Nah, something in the water...now push the button. 

******

Pack opened his eyes for the second-score time in his nearly sleepless night, and sighed as he gazed at the waxing moon setting in the west. The bard was tired, sore, and exhausted. He watched the moon for a few moments, and then tried shutting his eyes and pulling his blanket over his head, but that simply made him tired, sore, exhausted, and in the dark. After a few more moments, in which Pack found that an unseen tree had somehow managed to sprout a root right under his bedroll as he rested, the halfling quietly groaned and surrendered. _Three more leagues_, he thought to himself, _and no more sleeping on the ground! When I get home tomorrow afternoon, I’m going to bed under a feather down comforter and taking a week long nap!_

With another sigh, Pack kicked off his covers and sat up, turning his back toward the dark but still warm coals of the campfire. As his eyes adjusted to the pre-dawn light, he scanned the campsite for other light sleepers, looking for someone with whom he might share a prattle to wile away the time before breaking camp. A few paces away, in the center of the hillock the friends had camped upon, the children slept contentedly, huddled together under a dozen makeshift blankets and seemingly no worse for wear from their captivity, but every other bed in the camp was empty, and Pack could see their occupants in a trio of quiet conversations. 


***


“…and owe you both a great debt,” the eldest barbarian said to Balsag in rough Torian. “He-who-Hunts, your bounty will be safe with us until the thaw once it has been delivered.” 

“_Uat-tuaw_,” said the tribeman. Ander watched as the bugbear and barbarian clasped each other biceps in what the woodsman assumed was a handshake of sorts. It still amazed the woodsman that the big goblin not only knew the tribes’ tongue and customs, but was respected as an equal. In Icemist, only Durnan, Dueca, Father Lion, Lizon, and to some extent Worm and ever achieved that honor. 

“_Uat-tuawan!_” said Balsag in response.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go with us to Icemist?” Ander asked as the older man turned toward him. “We’re only about a day out, and I’m sure that with Festival beginning your tribe’ll find you there within the week.”

“We cannot, Cub-of-the-Bear. We who live must first give thanks at the lodges of our grandfathers, and walk the sacred paths to let them know we still live. It is a way we must walk alone, and before we can return to our home.”

“Then may you find your way home before the snow falls. Good luck to you.” The woodsman outstretched his hand the way Balsag and the older man had done so before, “_Uat-tuaw_.”

The barbarian raised an eyebrow at the gesture. “_Uat-tuawan_.” The reply was spoken softly as the barbarian’s hand closed on Ander’s arm in a crushing grip before backing away from the small group. “May the White Wyrm watch over you and grant you the strength to withstand whatever storms you may face.”

Ander stood quietly as the older man retrieved the rest of his men and make ready for their long journey westward. With a sidelong glance at the bounty hunter, he spoke, “You’ve dealt with them before, haven’t you?” 

“I told you that I have had many dealings with the surface world. I speak your language well enough, why should it surprise you that I should speak their language as well?” 

The woodsman shook his head. “It doesn’t. Not any more. But before I met you I didn’t know that your kind even had peaceful dealings with men, much less know their language and customs.”

“Tell me, forestwalker,” Balsag replied as he pulled a piece of jerky from his sack and began to chew. ‘When you learned to hunt the rabbit did you just study the rabbit?” Before Ander could answer, the bugbear continued, “No. You studied the wolf, the deer, the owl, the bear and all the other things that run with or hunt the rabbit. I do the same, but those things that I choose to hunt have a more complex language and habits.” He smiled, showing his long curved teeth that gleamed in the growing light. Bits of jerky jutted out from between the bounty hunter’s teeth.

Ander chuckled and smiled despite himself. “Well if your ‘hunts’ ever take you near Icemist…” Balsag laughed, spitting food, before the woodsman could finish.

“If my hunts ever take me near Icemist than I suspect you would not want to know about it,” the bugbear guffawed, “but should it come to that it would be rude for one hunter to enter another hunter’s territory without some sort of acknowledgement.” Though he still chuckled, the bounty hunter stared at Ander with a predatory gleam in his eye. 

Ander stared right back. “Just so long as we’re clear on that,” he said as he narrowed his eyes.

This sent Balsag into further fits of laughter. “I like you human,” he said, clapping Ander on the back. “You remind me of me. I hope I don’t have to kill you come spring.”

Ander stared at the chortling bounty hunter, suddenly aware that, were the tables turned, he might have said exactly the same thing.


***


The thick leather cord creaked in protest as Theo pulled it tightly through the steel links on either side of the long tear in his chain mail. The armor needed at least a hundred links replaced, but Onkus’ forge was still a few leagues away and the makeshift seam would need to hold until then. Still struggling with the cord, the barrel-chested priest made his way toward the camp’s edge to relieve Ashrem of his nightly watch. 

“Sun’s coming up,” Theo said as he worked at the leather, “I can see far enough in the new light to spell you for some sleep.”

The priest looked up from his repairs to see Ashrem sitting on a large flat rock overlooking the southern plains and calmly starring out into horizon. Sensing that they may be in some danger, Theo instinctively reached for his flail, but a long fluid stretch by the feloine told the priest that the scout had merely been lost in thought. “A few hours sleep will not benefit me as much as it may the others. I will maintain my vigilance. We are too close to our destination to let anything untoward occur now.”

Theo smiled in the near-light as he came even with Ashrem’s perch and struggled atop the stone. “You know,” he said, “this reminds me of my years on the wall.” He paused for a moment, waiting for the scout to say something in return, and continued when he received only silence. “Two men, watching for danger on the horizon, with nothing to do but talk.” _And storms, cub, but do you need to talk. Never a word that isn’t just so, or about the business at hand._ “Watch and talk, night after night.” _I’d wager that you haven’t even told Ander what’s on your mind, and you two are as thick as thieves._ “I spent years on that wall, and the only thing I knew better than the wall was the men I walked it with.” _What scar runs so deep that you would shut out those who walk with you?_

Out of the corner of his eye, Theo saw Ashrem’s hand reach up and stroke the long scars that ran across his features, the scars that had been fresh wounds the day the priest had first laid eyes on the wounded feloine fresh from what should have been his icy grave. 

“It will be strange once were back,” the priest said carefully, “not putting our armor on every morning or worrying about ambushes.”

The feloine gave him a quizzical look, but finally leaned back and sighed. “I think we should be wary of ambushes until the snows come in and the ground becomes too frozen to dig through. I would not like an encore performance of this… operation.”

Theo frowned at the feloine’s logic, but nodded his head in agreement. “I wasn’t ready to put this old armor back in storage anyhow.” The priest patted his chain mail absentmindedly, and for long moments the two sentries watched the light growing in the east in silence.

“You know my race also pays tribute to the Storm Lord, Brother Theo.” Ashrem’s voice seemed uncomfortable, as if he was attempting to broach a subject he would have rather let alone, and Theo, recognizing the voice, sat in silence and waited for the scout to continue. “Coming from an island nation we fear him and offer him tributes to calm the seas and guide our ships. I remember all the paintings and statues around the temples; they depict death and destruction from the storms that batter our shores. Until I met you I always thought that Zuras was, for lack of a better term, Evil.”

Theo found himself smiling despite the seriousness of the discussion, for this was a topic that he was often called to preach upon during his traveling days. “One man’s tool is another man’s weapon,” he began. “The same storms that the farmer prays for to feed his crops, is the same storm that the fisherman dreads for fear of his fleet. Here in Icemist, Zuras is both awed and feared. For half the year we pray for the rains to water our meager crops and our livestock. But as the Great Dragon drags summer away to hide in his horde, our prayers to Zuras turn to pleas of no blizzards or ice storms. We mortals are a fickle lot and our environment drives our ambitions and our fears.”

Theo let the sermon die on his lips, as he saw the vague disinterest in his companion’s face. The two sat for a while, watching the sky grow lighter and lighter, until Ashrem broke the comfortable silence.“I can see the festival tents from here.” 

Theo glanced over at the scout, who had pulled up his beggarly rags to cover his face and head. Ever since their narrow escape from the demon’s minions and the following return to the surface, Ashrem had taken to wearing his old disguise again. The scout had claimed that the wrappings were for the children’s sake, so as not to give them any more frights than they had already had, but the priest had almost immediately deduced that the only person the disguise protected was a certain feloine scout. He wore the dingy rags like armor, a loner uncomfortable with being alone.

_I wonder…_ “This will be your second Festival will it not?”

“Ander dragged me to the final day of the last festivity; otherwise it will be my first.”

“It will be a grand Festival this year, what with the return of the children to their families along with my nephew’s coming of age ceremony and then his wedding. Yes, a grand festival of new beginnings.” The priest could feel himself losing the feloine’s attention again. “New beginnings and some unfortunate endings.”

When Ashrem turned toward the priest and pushed back his hood, Theo knew he had the scout’s full attention. For a moment, he thought he saw the feloine’s ears twitch.

“With Thom coming of age, he won’t need me as his guardian anymore. Come spring he’ll be wed. And then I will travel to Tor, attend the landholder’s althing, and sign the deed to the Hillshire over to him as my brother intended. Once that is done, I’ll have as much business in Icemist as a snowfall in summer. Oh, Thom will want me to stay on, but I think it’s time he was on his own and out from under the watchful eyes of his stiff old uncle. Besides, I’m too old to work someone else’s fields. I think it is time for this old dog to find a new fire, maybe farther south…” 

“I had not thought…”

“That these old bones would head for someplace warm?”

“That you would find yourself so dispensable,” the scout finished, “or that you would desire to leave your home.”

“Ashrem, I haven’t had a home since my Eleanor died,” Theo said, looking into the sky and breathing deep, “only places I happen to live.”

The two watchers sat in silence as the sky lightened a bit more, until Ashrem spoke again. “I too will be leaving come spring thaw. I have run from my duties and responsibilities for far too long. It is time I faced my past and returned to my people. However, this time I understand that while my storm may have done damage to my fishing fleet, that same storm has washed some valuable things upon my shores.” 

“Like what?” Theo asked, perplexed for the first time during their conversation.

“Friends.”

***

Aurora packed a few more bits of meat jerky in the small sack, pausing occasionally to blink away the tears that welled in her eyes. Everything had happened so quickly since their escape, and the sorceress felt less in control now than she did their entire adventure through the demon’s city. Wiping her eyes with one hand she reached absently for more food with her other, only to have it come to rest on top of Meepo’s scaly claw. The red-haired woman smiled as the kobold’s eyes met hers and she could tell that the tiny dragon keeper was just as upset as she. 

“[Meepo must go,” he croaked in broken Torian. “Meepo must face Yusdrayl. Prove to Rora Angel that Meepo better now.”

“_Meepo could wait_,” she countered, speaking in the kobold’s own tongue, “_and we could go with you. To help you._” 

The kobold only shook his head. “Meepo not belong in Roracity. Meepo not angel like Rora. Meepo belong under earth, not under sky. Meepo needs earn his place. Then Meepo can stay with Rora Angel and learn to live under sky.”

“Meepo. I’m not an Angel. I wasn’t sent here by the great Wyrm to help you or lead you anywhere. I’m your friend Meepo, and I don’t want to see you get hurt.” 

Meepo’s sharp barking laughter hurt the young sorceress’ ears. “Rora Angel try to trick Meepo. Meepo prove to Rora that Meepo is ready. Meepo will free Meepo’s clan. Meepo’s clan will become clanmates of Rora’s clan. Learn to live under dragon sky. Learn to be ‘civil eyes’. Meepo make happen.”

Aurora leapt forward and scooped up the tiny dragon keeper in her arms, hugging him with all her might. Her tears flowed freely as she released the kobold and the sorceress would have turned away so she wouldn’t have to watch her little apprentice leave, but Ander had somehow snuck up next to her. The woodsman didn’t say a word, but slowly bent and retrieved Meepo’s spear from its resting spot near the pair. With a simple bow, he presented the weapon to its owner like a king presenting a sword to his champion. Eyes wide with excitement the scaly knight accepted his weapon and without further ceremony grabbed his provisions and turned to leave. “Rora Angel not worry, Meepo have Angel magic now. Meepo going to be great like dragon. You see!”

The sorceress felt Ander’s strong arm encircle her waist as Meepo tromped away from the camp. As he disappeared over a rise, the sorceress heard the faint but familiar strain of Pack’s _Heroes of Icemist_ played on kobold pipes echo over the hills. 


***

Pack watched as the grown-up barbarians collected their meager supplies from the camp as dawn broke. Slabs of meat from a fat deer that Ander and Balsag had found early in the trip went carefully into makeshift bags made from spare cloaks and clothing, and as the sun began its daily journey across the sky, sleepy barbarian children disentangled themselves from the heap of village children to assist in the packing. Soon, Pack stood alone on the hilltop, accompanied only by the restless snores and coos of Icemist’s young and waving to the shrinking line of tribesmen headed for home.

Quietly, Pack tiptoed around the children to the woodpile collected the night before and started began feeding the still hot embers of the campfire. As the sun pulled itself out from underneath the horizon, Pack stoked the fire, heated some water in a battered pot, and started breakfast. Soon, he had a dozen slabs of venison well seared, six pair of sleepy eyes blinking as their owners rolled out from bed. 

“Good morning!” he said. “Anyone know what today is?

“Tyr’s day?” said Dun.

“Close,” said Pack. “It’s the third day of Festival.” The halfling smiled as gathered his impromptu audience’s full attention. “It’s also the day we finally get home!”

“Really?” asked a wide-eyed Rel.

“Yes, really,” came Ander’s voice from over Pack’s shoulder. Pack turned to look at the woodsman. He grinned at the children, as did Aurora, who had snaked an arm around the ranger’s waist. “Probably before noonday meals.”

“I concur,” said Ashrem, cresting the hilltop with Theo in tow. The feloine had wrapped himself in his old beggar’s wrap. “I have seen the pennant’s waving from the Festival Grounds.”

“So let’s eat,” boomed Theo, “and get home.” 

Then Wire, his eyes bright, straightened his back and said, “I concur!” Then he grinned and giggled, and everyone, even Ashrem, joined in the breakfast time laughter.

***

Pack beamed as he crested the hill to see Icemist in full Festival. A veritable city of tents of all shapes, colors, and sizes sprawled out over the countryside, and in its center, he could see the flags and banners waving in the light wind from the top of the Shimmering Sword.

“This is where I must depart,” said Ashrem. “You all know where to find me.”

“You sure you don’t want to come?” said Aurora.

“It would be best if I did not,” he said simply. “I do, however, expect visitors.”

“You’ll get them, cub,” rumbled Theo as he patted the scout on the shoulder, and without another word the feloine turned and headed toward the wood and Ander’s cabin.

“Last one to the Tangle Pole is stinky goblin!” one of the children shouted, and suddenly Pack found himself huffing and puffing to keep up with six pairs of legs. 

The bard slowed for a moment and looked back over his shoulder. Aurora and Ander walked together hand in hand, while Theo roared with laughter. The halfling smiled, and turned back toward the chase.

He quickly caught the children, and soon led them on a merry chase through the makeshift streets of Festival, heading for Lizon, and Worm, and home.


----------



## fett527

Uh, bump I guess.  Small Beginnings comes to a close and nobody has a comment???

I thought the gang was all here?


----------



## GreyShadow

a comment?

more please.


----------



## Enkhidu

Bad news GreyShadow - that's all there is. Small Beginnings is over. Kaput. Fini. Gone to pasture. Pushing up...

You get the idea. We're fresh out of Small Beginnings.


----------



## leel

*really?*

its seriously over? no other thread with a carry on? no more worm?


----------



## Ashy

fett527 said:
			
		

> Ashy, people would like to know the status of this:
> 
> http://www.enworld.org/forums/showthread.php?p=1530359#post1530359




Here's the update, as sad as it is....

http://www.enworld.org/forums/showpost.php?p=1613761&postcount=200


----------



## Ashy

I'm ready for the next chapter!


----------



## Badger

Well, as I just finally figured out what the long letter string up top meant, I thought I could now comment on the final segment of a wonderful beginning.

The story ended as all good ones should, with the promise of another one to follow. All the chars have grown, even Theo who in my opinion was pretty established to begin with, and as such how long can those who have seen more than the average person will ever see stay settled before the road calls to them once more. In my opinion, not too long.

As always, a great story written by two extremely talented authors, and I can't wait to see what comes next...


----------



## Rel

fett527 said:
			
		

> Uh, bump I guess.  Small Beginnings comes to a close and nobody has a comment???
> 
> I thought the gang was all here?




I am here now and I am much pleased by the final update.  I have been kept away for a few days by weekend goings on and a new computer game but I loved the last post.

I just wanted to say once again that this remains among the best Story Hours on these boards for all the same reasons that it started out that way.  The writing is good.  The sense of humor is good.  The attention to detail is good.  The characters are great!

I very much hope that there are more adventures in store for our heroes and that we'll get to read about them here.

And congratulations to D'shai and Aurora on their impending arrival!  Although I can't get the image of the fiery haired heroine staggering around while "great with child" out of my mind. 

I'm looking forward to "New Beginnings".  Until then, take care of each other.

(And feel free to stop by my Story Hour.  Goodness knows I could use a little kick in the pants to keep the updates flowing.)


----------



## Pyske

fett527 said:
			
		

> Uh, bump I guess.  Small Beginnings comes to a close and nobody has a comment???
> 
> I thought the gang was all here?



 The invisible forces keep deleting my messages.  Hopefully you'll see this while HULK is busy swatting them.

Good story, thanks for writing it, and I look forward to the next chapter.  Even if I didn't get to be a rugrat. 

 . . . . . . . -- Eric


----------



## Jon Potter

You can't fool me! I remember a lo-o-o-ng time ago you mentioning that the characters' adventures had far outdistanced the humble tales chronicled in "Small Beginnings". I just hope that the remainder of the Heroes of Icemist stories get written up for our consumption here.

In other words...

The first tales have been great! And I hope for many, many more!



			
				Rel said:
			
		

> (And feel free to stop by my Story Hour.  Goodness knows I could use a little kick in the pants to keep the updates flowing.)




Is that all it'll take? Let me go get my BIG boots!


----------



## Dungannon

Great story, I can't believe it's over.  You guys better get busy on a sequel and quit wasting your time procreating.


----------



## brellin

cool sh and i hope that we have not seen the last of Pack and friends and i hope that Meepo makes a quick return and congrats on all the new babys and
please write more cool stuff
      -Brellin


----------



## fett527

OK, 3rd page, that's far enough.


----------



## The Axe

So, is this it?  Will there be a new thread?

Inquiring minds want to know.


----------



## Enkhidu

We're still not sure if we want to do a new thread or rename this one - we'll probably go with a new thread unless there is a hue and cry.

In other news, we're both really freakin' busy, which is why you haven't seen the new thread started yet.


----------



## LiVeWiRe

I come back to find the 'End of Small Beginnings'?!?!  But, I'm glad I came back when I did...otherwise Enk's previous post wouldn't have been made.  Whew!  

Extremely glad to hear that the SH will continue...I think a new thread is the best route.  Thanks for the cameo in the last part of Small Beginnings!  I think the ending was fantastic--once again highlighting the characters, their relationships and emotions.  

The only thing I'm not looking forward to in the new SH is more of Worm...Hulk will be unbearable around here you know that don't you?  

Thanks again for an excellent SH and here's to the continuation (soon)!

-LW

P.S. Congrats to Dshai and Aurora on their coming addition!


----------



## dshai527

LiVeWiRe said:
			
		

> P.S. Congrats to Dshai and Aurora on their coming addition!




Thank You Wire and Everybody else who has commented. We had a miscarriage back in December, so this has been very stressful on us. We worry about every little twicth or symptom, but we will calm down eventually...or maybe we won't. (We go for our ultrasound on the 29th of July. So far everyone in the family is trying to talk us out of finding out the sex, but what do they know.) 

On the story side I just wanted eveyone to know that there is a lot more to tell and the story keeps getting better, thanks mostly to the players who continue to develope their characters and play out their backstories along with the evolving storyline. 

Enk and I are dedicate to getting this story down as a reminder of the fun we have had with this game and these characters, as well as for you our fans. We are trying to stay true to the original action, while cutting out any unnecessary items or continuity issues (Like guest players or nights where the mountain dew ran a little too freely).We continue to joke about persuing other stories as well, but I don't see that anytime soon since time is not with us right now. We do have another project in the works along with Fett that is taking up some time as well, but we will get something rolling soon. Yes look for more Worm with a side of Pack and less Aurora although you could argue that she is the main character. Hope that got your attention.   

See you soon.


----------



## Americano

Wow. I was nearly late for the concert I was going to this evening due to getting caught up in reading this. Great, great story hour. I'm almost ashamed of my own meager Meepo story as compared to how great he is here.

I'm greatly looking forward to future stories.


----------



## Enkhidu

Don't feel bad about your Meepo rendition, man - the whole "Meepo journal" idea kicked my butt. Especially when he got to the first drawing. I actually had to read it aloud to my wife I was laughing so hard.

And believe it or not, I read it _days_ ago, not just since you posted here.

Anyway, keep it up!


----------



## Americano

Enkhidu said:
			
		

> Don't feel bad about your Meepo rendition, man - the whole "Meepo journal" idea kicked my butt. Especially when he got to the first drawing. I actually had to read it aloud to my wife I was laughing so hard.
> 
> And believe it or not, I read it _days_ ago, not just since you posted here.
> 
> Anyway, keep it up!




Thanks, that's very much appreciated. Look for an update sometime this weekend.


----------



## dshai527

So you have been waiting for an update, calmly sitting there gazing at your monitor occasionally hitting the refresh button and still no new stories about our famed heroes(and sometimes our readers). 

Well to be truthful, getting ready for a baby is a lot more work than I expected, especially when you are job hunting at the same time and still working full time a job that is an hour and a half away. (By the way its gonna be a girl...you heard it here first.) 

Anyway Enk and I have not had a lot of time to sit down and work on this project, but I promise you that will change soon. Unless the mantle of DM holds Enk back from devoting time. Yes, that's right Enk is DMing. I have stepped aside for a few months to devote time to my beautiful but enlarging wife and her every need...including Chocolate at the wee hours of the morning. 

On the plus side this means that I get to play a character for a change and yes I chose Ranger as I always do (At least his first few levels were Ranger..true rangers don't need spells!). Could be worse I could have gone with my other favorite...Pirate! ( A little harder for campaign ideas.) 

Don't fret all you, our faithful readers, we still have a lot of story to tell just to get to where we are now so this should not stop us from getting going again. Enk often says we should just flash forward to where we are and get started again there, but I say if you're going to tell a story...tell the whole story. Besides I think Enk just wants to leave out that nasty wolverine part, but being the friend that I am I want him to enjoy the memories that the gaming table has given us. Oh wait, he's the DM now...hmmmm I should rethink my stategy. Oh well, keep an Eye out soon for our new beginning and see how fame has effected or writers...er I mean heroes.


----------



## LiVeWiRe

Good luck with the job search Dshai!  I can empathize, well except for having a pregnant wife at the same time.

Sounds like Enk will be extracting some revenge...    

Definitely looking forward to the 'new beginning'!    

-LW


----------



## HULK

HULK congratulate recent and soon-to-be parents!

HULK look forward to more of Worm and less of Wire.


----------



## Phila

Is that update still coming?  I can't hold my breath much longer....


----------



## The Axe

*???*

I haven't, by chance, missed the beginning of a new thread, have I?


----------



## Enkhidu

The Axe said:
			
		

> I haven't, by chance, missed the beginning of a new thread, have I?




Sorry to say that there is not yet a new Small Beginnings thread. Yet. D'Shai and I promised each other that we wouldn't start posting without a fairly significant backlog of material we could dole out on a weekly basis even if we got sidetracked with life (as has happened in the past). On the upside, the material machine is cranking up again, so we're hoping that it will be sometime soon. Basically, once we get three double length posts ahead we'll probably start posting again. 

In the meantime, I'm trying to keep a hand in by posting a bit from a secondary campaign I'm running while D'Shai plays with his new baby. Its called In the Shadow of the Wood, and its a solo thing.


----------



## Ashy

Link, please????????


----------



## Enkhidu

Here you go:

http://www.enworld.org/forums/showthread.php?t=109328


----------



## Ashy

Thanks!  :d


----------



## fett527

_*I've been workin' on the Rogue's Gallery all the live long day...*_


----------



## Enk&D'Shai

Hey Enk, guess what I heard?

What's that?

Two jokers broke into our account and started posting something about a new Small Beginnings SH thread. Don't they know that the campaign is 2 years ahead and that they'll never catch up? Losers.

D'Shai, that's us.

What? I don't remember anything about...

See? This is what you get for celebrating St. Patricks Day on both Thursday _and_ Friday

Kiss me! I'm Irish!

The only thing Irish about you is your soap.

Then how about this "Kiss me! I don't stink!"

I give up.


----------



## 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.


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## Enkhidu

So over the Christmas break, I took some time to dig out the above mentioned Annotated SB book (actually more like "pulled it down from an rarely looked-at shelf", but you get the idea), and had a rollicking good time reminiscing. Made me itch to start up the collaboration again (though don't get your hopes up - we're both way to freakin' busy these days).

Looking back over the hours and hours we spent writing this thing, and the even longer hours we spent at the table making it happen in the first place, I can truly day that it was time well spent. I don't think I would trade that time for anything.


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