Oghma
First Post
Dear Diary,
Today I met some adventurers that I think I’ll wind up traveling with. They were all passing through my village this week, some just traveling, some looking for work, and we wound up talking outside of Old Filber’s place. Let me tell you how it happened.
I was walking back from the village where I’d been to study more spell targeting stuff with that weird human wizard, Felster. He’s lived in our gnomish village for about a million years, and everyone knows him. Since, as you, my Diary, know that every since my great-great-grandma Bonicka fell in love with one of those sprites or pixies or whatever, my family have had a strain of magic running through them quite different than the typical gnomic illusions. I needed training for my magic, as the power of the fey breeds true through our bloodline. I’d been tossing around “magic missiles” all day long, and I was QUITE tired from all that, when I saw two dwarves leaning over the fence at Old Filber’s farm, watching the cows, I guess, which is a bit strange for dwarves to be doing. Not that I know anything about dwarvish habits, mind you, I’m just saying what I saw.
Anyway, they were just leaning over the fence, and let me tell you, these two were all muscle-y! One looked kind of wild, with a big sword strapped to his back, and the other had this holy symbol of two crossed axes, and an axe at his belt, and his shield had two crossed axes like he was some sort of religious freak or something. I walked past em and they gave me a good look, up and down, y’know, like they were looking at something special (Yea, that’d be ME).
SO, I gave em the stare back. The wild one looked at me unmoving, like he’d look at me all day, and the other one looked away and said something to the other. SO I walked over to em and said, “Don’t you two have anything better to do than look at pretty gnome girls walking by?”
From the bushes on the other side I heard, “Can there be anything better to do?” and this halfling came out, holding one of Old Filber’s chickens.
Now, you and I know that Old Filber is as blind as a bat and couldn’t count his chickens whether they were hatched or not, but I gave em a look and said, “If Old Filber caught you with that chicken, he’s roast you for sure!”
They didn’t seem too impressed. The wild one, with the muscles, just sat there and looked at me. The halfling just winked at me, and said “Well, if Old Filber catches us, we’ll have to deal with him then, won’t we?”
They called my bluff, so I sort of backed down. I asked them, “What are you guys doing around here anyway?”
They told me that they had all left their homes to find adventure, and that so far they hadn’t had much luck.
Then I popped out with, “Well, that’s because you need some gnomish luck!”
To make a long story short, I had to show ‘em some stuff before they’d take me in, but I really impressed ‘em with my magic. Adventure, here I come!
Dear Diary,
I’m a little bothered today. My parents sure didn’t make much of a fuss when I told them I was leaving. I also didn’t know that gnome families had “adventure sacks” prepared for when their kids went adventuring. I’d told them about the other adventurers, and they seemed really pleased even relieved! No head shaking or hand wringing at all! Just, “Here’s your bag, and good luck!” Weird.
Dear Diary,
Oof. One long day of walking. After walking with these guys a while, I can tell you about them. Maybe more than you want to know.
Gimil, the Dwarf. He’s the wild one. He doesn’t talk much, and seems kind of dangerous, like he’s always on the alert or something. He carries a big sword, and he’s really tall for a dwarf. He thinks humans are disgusting.
Ratlin, the Halfling. He talks a lot, and seems like he won’t stop moving. He runs ahead and scouts then runs back at tells us he hasn’t seen anything. Then he runs back out to scout. He’s pretty quiet when he runs, but that doesn’t make up for his running at the mouth.
Ord, the Priest. He’s the other dwarf. He’s says he’s a priest of Clangeddin, the God of War, but I still think he’s a little out there. I mean, he’s a priest and all, but can you just shut UP about the glories of Clangeddin for a little while? He’s nice otherwise. He and Gimil talk together a lot in Dwarvish, which Ratler can’t understand. I let on that I can’t understand them either, but I about lost it when they started comparing me to dwarf women. I mean, boobs the size of my head are eye-catching for men, but I think I’d rather have my gnomish “equipment”.
Dear Diary,
Another day of walking. Where is all this adventure I’m supposed to be finding? So far, it’s contending with dwarf gas and halfling chatter. No one told me adventuring would be so windy!
Dear Diary,
I’m really sad. We had some adventure, but we didn’t rescue the good guys.
We were coming up to a hill and we heard shouts and laughter in Goblinish. Ratler (Or Rat, as we now all call him), ran up to the crest of the hill and saw about 8 goblins torturing two human men near a wrecked wagon. Gimil rushed up to attack the goblins, racing past both Ord and Rat. I trotted down and tried to put the goblins doing the torturing into a magical slumber, but before I got there a goblin threw a spear into them and we had no chance to save them! That made me mad, so I threw spells right and left while Gimil and Ord slashed and chopped. I know that Gimil’s sword seems bigger than he is, but he whips it around like it’s a dagger! Whoosh! Slice!
Rat and I ran around afterward, dispatching the goblins I had slept. I hated them for killing those men. My father had fought goblins in the defense of our village, and there is nothing worse than goblins near a village. They never fight out fair, and always bother a town until some one takes care of em.
There was a wagon full of goods left, and Gimil saw tracks that led off into the hills with what was probably another wagon. All told, the goblins had killed 4 humans. They also got us angry. Tomorrow morning, we’ll show em!
Dear Diary,
We found the goblin cave about mid-morning. There were two sentries outside, but Rat and Gimil shot em with Crossbows, and down they went. The next two came out and I put em to sleep, so we could sneak in. We found 6 more total, going cave to cave. They were no match for Ord’s axe and Gimil’s sword.
We gathered up what loot we could and went back to where the wagon was left by the dead humans. We hitched the dwarves to the wagon, though after about three “Giddyup”s from me, Gimil turned back and gave me a look that changed my mind about the whole humor of the thing. For a while, at least. “Whoa, dwarf!” Hahaha! I wouldn’t want him to look at me like that again…
I’m getting used to the dwarves. Their humor is a bit crude, but they are stout warriors, and treat me like on of them, which I thought was pretty impossible. I mean, dwarves, by the beard of Glittergold! Who’d have thought them to be friendly? I guess they are impressed with my magical powers.
We camped about a half day’s travel from a small village. Tomorrow we’ll go in and see about who these humans were, give em a decent burial or something, and maybe sell some of this goblin equipment. The dwarves are complaining about lack of ale, so I guess we’d better take care of them before they turn ugly. Ok, uglier. Hahaha!
Today I met some adventurers that I think I’ll wind up traveling with. They were all passing through my village this week, some just traveling, some looking for work, and we wound up talking outside of Old Filber’s place. Let me tell you how it happened.
I was walking back from the village where I’d been to study more spell targeting stuff with that weird human wizard, Felster. He’s lived in our gnomish village for about a million years, and everyone knows him. Since, as you, my Diary, know that every since my great-great-grandma Bonicka fell in love with one of those sprites or pixies or whatever, my family have had a strain of magic running through them quite different than the typical gnomic illusions. I needed training for my magic, as the power of the fey breeds true through our bloodline. I’d been tossing around “magic missiles” all day long, and I was QUITE tired from all that, when I saw two dwarves leaning over the fence at Old Filber’s farm, watching the cows, I guess, which is a bit strange for dwarves to be doing. Not that I know anything about dwarvish habits, mind you, I’m just saying what I saw.
Anyway, they were just leaning over the fence, and let me tell you, these two were all muscle-y! One looked kind of wild, with a big sword strapped to his back, and the other had this holy symbol of two crossed axes, and an axe at his belt, and his shield had two crossed axes like he was some sort of religious freak or something. I walked past em and they gave me a good look, up and down, y’know, like they were looking at something special (Yea, that’d be ME).
SO, I gave em the stare back. The wild one looked at me unmoving, like he’d look at me all day, and the other one looked away and said something to the other. SO I walked over to em and said, “Don’t you two have anything better to do than look at pretty gnome girls walking by?”
From the bushes on the other side I heard, “Can there be anything better to do?” and this halfling came out, holding one of Old Filber’s chickens.
Now, you and I know that Old Filber is as blind as a bat and couldn’t count his chickens whether they were hatched or not, but I gave em a look and said, “If Old Filber caught you with that chicken, he’s roast you for sure!”
They didn’t seem too impressed. The wild one, with the muscles, just sat there and looked at me. The halfling just winked at me, and said “Well, if Old Filber catches us, we’ll have to deal with him then, won’t we?”
They called my bluff, so I sort of backed down. I asked them, “What are you guys doing around here anyway?”
They told me that they had all left their homes to find adventure, and that so far they hadn’t had much luck.
Then I popped out with, “Well, that’s because you need some gnomish luck!”
To make a long story short, I had to show ‘em some stuff before they’d take me in, but I really impressed ‘em with my magic. Adventure, here I come!
Dear Diary,
I’m a little bothered today. My parents sure didn’t make much of a fuss when I told them I was leaving. I also didn’t know that gnome families had “adventure sacks” prepared for when their kids went adventuring. I’d told them about the other adventurers, and they seemed really pleased even relieved! No head shaking or hand wringing at all! Just, “Here’s your bag, and good luck!” Weird.
Dear Diary,
Oof. One long day of walking. After walking with these guys a while, I can tell you about them. Maybe more than you want to know.
Gimil, the Dwarf. He’s the wild one. He doesn’t talk much, and seems kind of dangerous, like he’s always on the alert or something. He carries a big sword, and he’s really tall for a dwarf. He thinks humans are disgusting.
Ratlin, the Halfling. He talks a lot, and seems like he won’t stop moving. He runs ahead and scouts then runs back at tells us he hasn’t seen anything. Then he runs back out to scout. He’s pretty quiet when he runs, but that doesn’t make up for his running at the mouth.
Ord, the Priest. He’s the other dwarf. He’s says he’s a priest of Clangeddin, the God of War, but I still think he’s a little out there. I mean, he’s a priest and all, but can you just shut UP about the glories of Clangeddin for a little while? He’s nice otherwise. He and Gimil talk together a lot in Dwarvish, which Ratler can’t understand. I let on that I can’t understand them either, but I about lost it when they started comparing me to dwarf women. I mean, boobs the size of my head are eye-catching for men, but I think I’d rather have my gnomish “equipment”.
Dear Diary,
Another day of walking. Where is all this adventure I’m supposed to be finding? So far, it’s contending with dwarf gas and halfling chatter. No one told me adventuring would be so windy!
Dear Diary,
I’m really sad. We had some adventure, but we didn’t rescue the good guys.
We were coming up to a hill and we heard shouts and laughter in Goblinish. Ratler (Or Rat, as we now all call him), ran up to the crest of the hill and saw about 8 goblins torturing two human men near a wrecked wagon. Gimil rushed up to attack the goblins, racing past both Ord and Rat. I trotted down and tried to put the goblins doing the torturing into a magical slumber, but before I got there a goblin threw a spear into them and we had no chance to save them! That made me mad, so I threw spells right and left while Gimil and Ord slashed and chopped. I know that Gimil’s sword seems bigger than he is, but he whips it around like it’s a dagger! Whoosh! Slice!
Rat and I ran around afterward, dispatching the goblins I had slept. I hated them for killing those men. My father had fought goblins in the defense of our village, and there is nothing worse than goblins near a village. They never fight out fair, and always bother a town until some one takes care of em.
There was a wagon full of goods left, and Gimil saw tracks that led off into the hills with what was probably another wagon. All told, the goblins had killed 4 humans. They also got us angry. Tomorrow morning, we’ll show em!
Dear Diary,
We found the goblin cave about mid-morning. There were two sentries outside, but Rat and Gimil shot em with Crossbows, and down they went. The next two came out and I put em to sleep, so we could sneak in. We found 6 more total, going cave to cave. They were no match for Ord’s axe and Gimil’s sword.
We gathered up what loot we could and went back to where the wagon was left by the dead humans. We hitched the dwarves to the wagon, though after about three “Giddyup”s from me, Gimil turned back and gave me a look that changed my mind about the whole humor of the thing. For a while, at least. “Whoa, dwarf!” Hahaha! I wouldn’t want him to look at me like that again…
I’m getting used to the dwarves. Their humor is a bit crude, but they are stout warriors, and treat me like on of them, which I thought was pretty impossible. I mean, dwarves, by the beard of Glittergold! Who’d have thought them to be friendly? I guess they are impressed with my magical powers.
We camped about a half day’s travel from a small village. Tomorrow we’ll go in and see about who these humans were, give em a decent burial or something, and maybe sell some of this goblin equipment. The dwarves are complaining about lack of ale, so I guess we’d better take care of them before they turn ugly. Ok, uglier. Hahaha!
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