Bizarre Bazaar: Tankard's Idylls

covaithe · Mar 5, 2009

Tank is quickly spotted as he approaches, and a cry of alarm goes up. The dwarves quickly drop picks and shovels for axes and crossbows, and Tank's greeting is only barely in time to delay their attack. After he says his piece, the dwarves keep their weapons readied, but one marble-bearded fellow steps forward and speaks, voice thick with anger.

"A curse, ye say, and maybe true, but what kind o' curse is it that makes ye stink of fresh blood, and with a belt o' fresh skulls? Fresh dwarven skulls, unless my eyes mistake me. Ye'd best explain, quick and full. Who are ye, wha's yer curse, and where did ye get those skulls?"

jaker2003 · Mar 5, 2009

Tank nods. "Fair questions. I'm known in the 'civilized' world as 'Tankard', or more commonly, 'Tank'.
As for my curse, I've been bitten by a wererat, and I now have the hardest time controlling my shape. Which brings up a question. I've lost track of time, how many more nights of the full moon remain in this month? I fear that I may go wild again. If there is a full moon tonight, do you have chains to restrain me? I wish no harm to you, and would rather spend the night bound than ravaging would-be friends.
As for these . . ." Tank rests a hairy paw on one of the skulls. "Four duergar ambushed me in a cave, netting me before I even saw them. They ordered me to lie down so they could bind me. Believing them to be slavers, I ripped free of the net. They attacked me then, and durring the battle, my shape changed. I was able to put them down, but their wounds were to extensive for me to save them. It seems I defended myself too well. I collect trophies from my victories, and a skull is a far more impressive trophy than a hand or finger. I had intended to pack them up, but there was no room for them." Tank relaxes, allowing his arms to hang limp at his sides, and waits for the Dwarf's reply.

covaithe · Mar 5, 2009

"Duergar, ye say?" the speaker growls, and a clamor of angry muttering echoes him. But this time, the anger seems not to be directed at Tank. "Well, now. Toss them skulls over this way, and let me have a closer look at 'em. If ye speak true, well, that changes things, don't it, boys?" The others convey a vigorous affirmative.

(ooc: assuming Tank does so...)

The leader stares closely at the skulls for a moment, and several of the nearer miners crowd round, craning their thick necks to see. Almost immediately one of them speaks up. "Kargyll, you're as blind as a rock mole. No dwarf ever had eye sockets that close together. And look at that jaw! Couldn't grow a proper beard on that if ye tried."

"Yer mother had a jaw just like that," the older dwarf snaps back testily. "I oughtta know, she used to..."

"She used to whip yer scrawny backside, that's what, and I saw it with me own eyes. 'cause I can focus more'n ten feet from me nose!"

"Can't ye see I dinna have time fer yer insubordinate blather now? This poor fool needs our help. Here, Tankard, have yer trophies back. There be two night left o'the full moon, and we can bind ye, if ye lack the strength to keep t'yerself. But fer Chennet's sake, man, couldn't ye find a stream or a handful o' grass? Ye smell like Hamish here after a night at the goblin flophouses."

jaker2003 · Mar 6, 2009

Tank's smile shows, perhaps too many teeth, "I am sorry for the smell, if you could direct me to a stream, I would gladly clean up."

Once Tank is less insulting to dwarven noses, he strikes up conversation with ?Kargyll? about what they do here, and if he could help them in exchange for their hospitality (though tank might not know that word).
when they finish, or if they have no work for him to do, Tank will spread out the contents of the pack and ask if any of their company would like to buy or barter for any of it. Tank is particulary interested in clothes that will fit his Orc frame and a proper two-handed weapon.

covaithe · Mar 15, 2009

With the aid of a nearby stream and most of a bar of harsh yellow soap, Tank manages to make himself presentable. As presentable as an unnatural hybrid of half-orc and dire rat can be, at any rate. He presents his captured loot for sale, and though the dwarves are uninterested in the whips, rope, manacles and so forth, several of the younger dwarves cannot resist the offer of cheap chainmail. None of them are willing to surrender their weapons or digging implements, but they do help Tank strip the padding off of one of the greatclubs.

As night approaches, Kargyll approaches Tank with several stout steel chains. "We dinna have a proper cage out here, but seein' as ye've got those manacles handy, we can use these chains to keep ye safely tied up fer the full moon. I'll post a guard to watch over ye as well, and if ye look to be burstin' these chains, he'll thump ye a few times - not likely, I know, but ye're a strong one, an' I'll be takin' no chances."

(ooc: assuming Tank cooperates...)

Halfway through the process of binding Tank with an absurd length of steel chain, Kargyll suddenly pauses and slaps his forehead with a meaty thump. "Well, shave my backside and call me a sheep, I've just remembered what's been ticklin' my memory since first I saw ye! Just this mornin' a group o' human lads, adventurers or summat, came lookin' fer the way through to that dark elf's crazy bazaar. I only just now remembered that they mentioned they'd a missing friend, someone who got turned into a rat! Surely that must be ye, eh?"

[sblock=loot and ooc]Sorry for the delay; I haven't forgotten you, but we're slightly ahead of the other thread chronologically, and I've been busy elsewhere to boot, so I've been stalling a bit here.

4x75g for the chain shirts is 300g, and you get a normal greatclub. However, I think I see my way fairly clear to reuniting you with the main party soon, so I doubt you'll have cause to use that greatclub.[/sblock]

jaker2003 · Mar 15, 2009

Tank confirms his identity to Kargyll and accepts the chains readily. Once night falls, Tank will try to keep the gaurd awake with conversation. Whatever holds the dwarf's interest: what life is like for him, what he thinks of his coworkers, how Tank ended up in this situation, whatever. When the full moon is finally visible, Tank looks at it with great anxiety and waits for the inevitable . . .

covaithe · Mar 22, 2009

As the moon rises, Tank feels a pressure building up, intolerable and overwhelming, and he finds himself sinking to his knees, elongating, changing. He does not lose consciousness or control however, but he finds himself once more in the form of a dire rat.

The dwarf watching Tank, leaps to his feet with an oath, axe shaking in his hands. Other dwarves come running with a swiftness belying the notion that they were asleep. However, Tank shows no more inclination to mindless violence than before, and the chains still seem intact and strong. Soon, the other dwarves drift back to their tents, though with frightened glances cast over their shoulders and unpleasant mutters.

(ooc: I'm pretty sure the check to resist the change is impossible for Tank, but since he's aware of his condition, all that means is that he's stuck in rat form until dawn. I'm assuming Tank doesn't voluntarily attempt any violence here...

Soon, dawn comes, and Tank finds the pressure, which he had forgotten about, suddenly lift. He finds himself back in his own skin, though naked again, and still chained. The dwarves watch from a distance. Soon, Kargyll comes by and marches up determinedly. "Weel? Any urges t'rip me throat out? You got control of yerself?"

jaker2003 · Mar 23, 2009

Tank nods, "Yes, but I seem to need a new set of clothes . . . I can't figure out why changing into a smaller form shreds my clothes. Ha, Maybe it's a joke of the gods." Tank again offers to help them with thier work, wanting to spend the last night with them before moving on.

covaithe · Mar 24, 2009

Kargyll picks up the pile of cloth and inspects it with a dark-ringed eye. "Yer auld clothes seem right enough, albeit they're nae on ye nae more. Now, let's get ye outta them irons."

He unlocks the manacles and tosses Tank the clothes, then beckons him to the side.

"Now, ye've been as friendly and helpful as a dwarf could ask, but if ye'd really like to help with our work, the best thing ye could do is let us take ye on t'yer friends today. It ain't yer fault, I ken, but my lads... Well, none of us slept too well last night, truth be told, and I dinna reckon we'll make the progress we're needin' today. I don't mean t'be inhospitable, but..." He shrugs eloquently. "I can send ye with the same guides what took yer friends t'the bazaar yesterday. I'll give ye these chains, too, and yer friends can chain ye up tomorrow night if ye think it's needed. That sound all right, then?"

[sblock=ooc]It would help me, too, to minimize how far ahead of the other thread we get chronologically.

[/sblock]

jaker2003 · Mar 25, 2009

Tank nods and agrees to go. "A guide would be helpful, thank you." Tank dresses and gathers his things.

When it is time to go, Tank wishes the dwarves well and leaves with the guide.