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Old 25th July 2007, 05:48 PM   #8 (permalink)
Goonalan
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Join Date: Jan 2004
Location: Grimsby, UK
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Goonalan Goblin Sharpshooter (Lvl 2)
Dungeon Crawl Classics #0 Legends are Made, not Born
An Adventure for 0 Level Characters

Turn 3: What’s what?

We press on…

After a short session at Kerwin’s Outfitters spending their loaned “aid” on torches, trail rations and the like the six huddle on the porch, watching the rain, to share rumours of what lies ahead.

“I saw rat bite dog.”

CHOMP

“Bite good- dog runoff.”

Bec starts the sharing.

The others stare at the giant, dare I say it, moron.

“How does that fit in with anything, we’re off to kill an Ogre?” Newt looks put out.

CHOMP

“Bite good.”

Bec is certain.

“Right? What else?” Cas asks.

“There’s another way into the Ogres cave at Skulltop Hillock.” Anya offers with a look. Mischa nods. “It’s at the rear- a little way up, something lairs there though- something that smells bad.”

“That’s interesting.” Cas rubs his chin, effects a pose. “I think the back entrance maybe the way.”

Jim nods, fingers his Magic Arrow, tries to avoid looking at Anya legs, then Mischa’s cleavage, then Anya’s alegs and cleavage, “I could… ah… I could… get that, I mean, I could…the creature” He drifts into silence. The others look on. He starts up again.

“There’s a… A… There’s… A… Tomb… A tomb… some knight… in there… A Tomb.”

“I heard that too.” Anya breaks in.
“Yep.” Newt nods. “Let’s try that way first- see if we can’t sneak up on the big feller, y’never know there might be some gelt in it- the tomb I mean.” The Gnome rubs his hands at the thought of plunder.

“I see pretty lights.”

Bec stares off into the semi-dark, the others follow his gaze.

“Pretty lights in hills… Pretty.”

The others squint, scan the horizon.

“Where?” Cas finally asks.

“I think the operative word is, when… When did you see ‘Pretty Lights’?” Anya cuts through the confusion.
“Other night… Sometime… Lots.” Bec finishes.
“I have… I have…too, lights in the hills… too.” Jim adds squirming.

Newt stares hard at Cas, “Can we concentrate on matters in hand.”
“Yes, perhaps we should.” The paladin replies.

The rain is beginning to ease up, fireflies buzz and dance beneath the near trees, there are still lights on in the village.

“Is there anything else we should know?”

The others think about it a while, Mischa breaks the silence.

“There’s a chimney, in the stone skull at the top of the hill- I’ve seen the smoke, we could get in that way, at least a little one could.”

Newt shrugs. “I’m game.”

Anya interrupts, pushy.

“They say the creature is as strong as any ten men, his club can crush a man’s skull with a single blow. It would take a very brave man to stand up to the fiend.” Anya looks up from checking her nails, changes her stance to reveal a yard of leg. “The question is- is there a man brave enough?”

Anya scans the party.

Cas licks a finger and smoothes his eyebrows, trying to find a jaunty angle to rest his hand upon his sword. Jim pulls at his crotch area, crosses his legs and gurns. Newt fiddles with something, distracted, finally looks up- unsure of what has been said. Mischa dismisses Anya’s gaze, hides deeper within the folds of her hood. Bec claps the air- and a firefly, sniffs the wreck of the creature, now paste in his hands, he licks the spot then grimaces, then licks it clean.

“Can I have sandwich?”

They ignore him.

“Tarrik lost his arm. To the giant… some time ago.” Cas adds still staring hard at Anya, she favours him a look. The others watch on till,

“Right, anything else?” Cas asks.

“They also say that the Ogre is in league with our good Mayor Merriweather.” Anya suggests, she likes to stir the pot.

“No. No, I mean. Surely not. What would he…” Cas stumbles.
“Money.”
“Where?” Newt’s back in the room, and all ears.
Anya shakes her head and tuts at the foolish Gnome.

“My dad took on a Dwarven carpenter, Durbin, to fix the roof- he just upped and left, no payment, no nothing- he had a lovely set of ladders I had my eye on.” Newt drifts off.

“Right.” Cas is about to finish up, his big speech, he strikes a pose- aiming for the thinking man, with a hint of the thinking woman’s draught excluder.

“What we do know is that this can’t continue, the creature was content to take our beer, and our food- tribute it said. Alas things have changed, with the death of Ginger Barley and Pop Stokes things have come to a head. We know where the creature lives- Skulltop Hillock; we know a secret way in, maybe two, if the chimney works out. And if the Mayors right then there’s a good chance the creature will have had his fill of beer, poisoned beer- his reactions should be slow.”

The would-be-paladin looks about him, stands on tip-toes, to give himself that extra presence.

“This is our chance, for ourselves, for the village, for Ginger Barley and Pop Stokes- we owe it to them. We should go now. Who’s with me?”

He eyes his audience, in unison they nod, stitch on their most determined faces, except for Jim-

“Wooolves… WOOOOlves, inthehills.” Jim half-balances on the edge of a table one hand grasping his crutch.

“What?” Anya stares at him, leans in close. “What are you saying? Is he alright?”

The others form a tight half-circle so as to guarantee Jim no privacy.

“Is your leg ok?” Anya touches it, just above Jim’s knee.

Instantly a dark stain spreads towards her hand, the woodsman blossoms red and half-sigh grins.

“Yesssssssssss.” He adds.

The others leave sharpish, and so to no-one Jim restates. “I said there are wolves in the hills, we ought to be careful.” He straightens up, eases his pants away from his skin and frog-like crouch-walks off the porch.

Approximately twenty minutes later the group have crossed farmer’s fields and ditches and are at the edge of the woods.

They stand there, looking back at the village, a final farewell.

“Funny?” Mischa notes.
“What is?” Cas asks.

Mischa points, the others follow her gaze, in the distance a building in the village seems to be outlined by a red furze.

“What do you think it is?” Cas wonders.
“Fire.” Newt states, “I mean… probably.”
“Should we go back- see if they require assistance? Where do you think it is? I pray it’s not the church?” Cas wobbles.
“It’s Kerwin’s.” Newt states, “I mean… probably.”

They turn to stare at the Gnome.

“You didn’t?” Cas is furious.
“No, I didn’t. I was here with you- remember.”

Newt turns and wanders into the woods; the white of his teeth reflects the scant light- he’s smiling.

Next Turn- The Smelly Back Passage.

You might think I’ve gone for the cheap gag but the above is, more or less, exactly how it played out- blame my players, who are incidentally all 30+ years old but obviously, Jim, enjoy playing the giddy-goat (fool).

Any thoughts?
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