Menu
News
All News
Dungeons & Dragons
Level Up: Advanced 5th Edition
Pathfinder
Starfinder
Warhammer
2d20 System
Year Zero Engine
Industry News
Reviews
Dragon Reflections
Columns
Weekly Digests
Weekly News Digest
Freebies, Sales & Bundles
RPG Print News
RPG Crowdfunding News
Game Content
ENterplanetary DimENsions
Mythological Figures
Opinion
Worlds of Design
Peregrine's Next
RPG Evolution
Other Columns
From the Freelancing Frontline
Monster ENcyclopedia
WotC/TSR Alumni Look Back
4 Hours w/RSD (Ryan Dancey)
The Road to 3E (Jonathan Tweet)
Greenwood's Realms (Ed Greenwood)
Drawmij's TSR (Jim Ward)
Community
Forums & Topics
Forum List
Latest Posts
Forum list
*Dungeons & Dragons
Level Up: Advanced 5th Edition
D&D Older Editions
*TTRPGs General
*Pathfinder & Starfinder
EN Publishing
*Geek Talk & Media
Search forums
Chat/Discord
Resources
Wiki
Pages
Latest activity
Media
New media
New comments
Search media
Downloads
Latest reviews
Search resources
EN Publishing
Store
EN5ider
Adventures in ZEITGEIST
Awfully Cheerful Engine
What's OLD is NEW
Judge Dredd & The Worlds Of 2000AD
War of the Burning Sky
Level Up: Advanced 5E
Events & Releases
Upcoming Events
Private Events
Featured Events
Socials!
Twitch
YouTube
Facebook (EN Publishing)
Facebook (EN World)
Twitter
Instagram
TikTok
Podcast
Features
Top 5 RPGs Compiled Charts 2004-Present
Adventure Game Industry Market Research Summary (RPGs) V1.0
Ryan Dancey: Acquiring TSR
Q&A With Gary Gygax
D&D Rules FAQs
TSR, WotC, & Paizo: A Comparative History
D&D Pronunciation Guide
Million Dollar TTRPG Kickstarters
Tabletop RPG Podcast Hall of Fame
Eric Noah's Unofficial D&D 3rd Edition News
D&D in the Mainstream
D&D & RPG History
About Morrus
Log in
Register
What's new
Search
Search
Search titles only
By:
Forums & Topics
Forum List
Latest Posts
Forum list
*Dungeons & Dragons
Level Up: Advanced 5th Edition
D&D Older Editions
*TTRPGs General
*Pathfinder & Starfinder
EN Publishing
*Geek Talk & Media
Search forums
Chat/Discord
Menu
Log in
Register
Install the app
Install
Community
Meta - Forums About Forums
Archive-threads
ceramic d.m. final judgement posted
JavaScript is disabled. For a better experience, please enable JavaScript in your browser before proceeding.
You are using an out of date browser. It may not display this or other websites correctly.
You should upgrade or use an
alternative browser
.
Reply to thread
Message
<blockquote data-quote="Wulf Ratbane" data-source="post: 548082" data-attributes="member: 94"><p>And speaking of which:</p><p></p><p><a href="http://www.batreps.com/images/3e/story.pdf" target="_blank">LINK TO PDF VERSION WITH IMAGES</a> </p><p></p><p>Here's the raw text:</p><p></p><p>Inspector Donne limped in, tired and wet. He removed his wet overcoat and hung it on the rickety wooden stand beside the door. He beat his water-logged hat against his leg to dry it off as best he could, and with some difficulty managed to wrestle it down over the peg as well. Running his fingers through his grey-streaked hair and giving his head a bit of a quick shake of its own, he turned at last to face into the room, eager to address the reason for such a late and unexpected call. The hour had just barely passed where night could reasonably be called the dawn.</p><p></p><p>“Sit up, now,” growled the burly officer behind the table. Rough hands gave a quick shake to the man seated there. The man had been dozing, face down, and he rose slowly with great effort. A red mark on his forehead hinted that he’d been resting for a few minutes, at least.</p><p></p><p>Like the officer behind him, the man had rough hands, ill-used through a life of hard labor. His hair was a thick yellow tangle, tied up out of his eyes with a frayed cord. His shirt was a near perfect match to his hair-- a bright and gaudy yellow, though patched in several places and soiled here and there with thick clumps of mud. If he were not a man of Reason, Donne thought, the man might just as well have been a scarecrow, come to life and walked right out of his field. Donne smiled a bit despite himself.</p><p></p><p>“Aye, now? Eh?” the man said, rising slowly from sleep to coherence. He had a simple country drawl and a simple, innocent way about him. </p><p></p><p>“Good morning, Henry,” said Donne.</p><p></p><p>“Ah, Hank, sir, I keep tellin’ yer.”</p><p></p><p>“Very well, Hank. I trust you’ve something worthwhile to drag me out of bed this morning-- and you without a bath, even.” Donne sniffed. The metallic smell of stale sweat threatened to overpower the room.</p><p></p><p>“Well, it’s about that lady, sir, as I reckon yer already guessed,” Hank gave a bit of a wink to the inspector, and Donne smiled back graciously.</p><p></p><p>“That much, indeed, I confess I had. Very astute. You were saying?”</p><p></p><p>“Well, sir, I been watchin’ the old manor, like yer asked,” he began.</p><p></p><p>Indeed he had, Donne thought. A recent string of grisly murders in the area had, over the past several months, led Donne inexorably to the door of the Countess, an expatriate of one or another of those damnably indeterminate eastern European countries. He had Henry to thank for the clues that had led him to the Countess, and though the evidence had not yet mounted to his satisfaction, he had taken the groundskeeper into his confidence, sure that an extra pair of eyes and ears in the Countess’ own house would soon close the case.</p><p></p><p>“Well,” Hank continued, “It was gettin’ on late last night, threatenin’ to rain, so yer might expect I was a bit surprised to wake up to a light movin’ across the grounds. Always been a light sleeper, I have, and blessed grateful for an overcast night to hide that moon.” Hank paused for a moment to make sure Inspector Donne was following along all right. Donne nodded for him to continue.</p><p></p><p>“Well, I jumped to as quick as I could. This weren’t no flickerin’ torchlight, more like that ‘lectric lantern yer got, whatcha call it?”</p><p></p><p>“A Ruhmkorff coil?”</p><p></p><p>“Aye, just so, that’s the one. Just like that.”</p><p></p><p>“Curious,” Donne said, frowning. “I don’t suppose it’s out of the question, an old manor house like that. The Countess is a woman of some education, after all, or so they say.”</p><p></p><p>“Well, sir, the odd part was, the light stopped on the hill just outside the manor, so I figured to head out and take a look.</p><p></p><p>“Forgive me, I wasn’t about to head out unarmed. I got my suspicions, sir, as I told yer before. Now, I know yer laugh,” Henry said, “but it was them old knockers what set me off. Sometimes, us simple folk, we just know, right? I’d been thinkin’ about it for a while now.”</p><p></p><p>“Would you like a seat, Inspector?” asked the officer. </p><p></p><p>Donne realized suddenly that he had been pacing back and forth. He waved his hand. “Helps me think. Please, go on.”</p><p></p><p>“Well, as yer know, the Countess weren’t too keen on rifles since she got there. But I still have my old bow, right, so I scooped it up and headed out. ‘Sides,” Hank whispered, “I figured if there was trouble, last thing I needed was a gunshot bringin’ them grim bodyguards o’ hers runnin’. Don’t like the look o’ them for’ners.”</p><p></p><p>“A wise precaution,” Donne admitted. </p><p></p><p>“Well sir, I crept up near as I dared. There was some kind o’ sally port there at the base o’ the manor, right there in my little green hillocks. All this time an’ I never saw it... Truth be told with the light so bright I still couldn’t see much, but I saw the lady, sir, come skulkin’ and creepin’ up to the manor house.”</p><p></p><p>“<em>To</em> the manor?” the officer asked.</p><p></p><p>Hank turned to the officer. “Aye, from the outside. An’ it were clear to me she were meetin’ someone there, someone skulkin’ up in there with the light behind ‘em.</p><p></p><p>“And sir,” he said, turning back to Donne, “This weren’t no friendly meetin’. I heard ‘em sir, raised voices straight away. Angry voices...”</p><p></p><p>“Go on,” said Donne.</p><p></p><p>“Well, pardon me, sir, but I’m sure ‘e called ‘er a ‘gangrel bitch,’” Hank blushed, but recovered himself quickly.</p><p></p><p>“An’ right about now, as yer might imagine, I was mighty glad I took them precautions, and then some... more’n yer think.”</p><p></p><p>“What do you mean?” Donne asked. </p><p></p><p>“Stole me the silver right out o’ the lady’s own manor, I did... Just one spoon, sir, but just enough... just enough. Enough for one shaft...”</p><p></p><p>“What the devil?” said the officer.</p><p></p><p>“Made me a silver arrow, sir. Melted it down to coat the whole shaft, and I was blessed glad to have it on my hip! By the time I looked up from my quiver, sir...” Hank paused. The room was silent.</p><p></p><p>“Well, sir, the rain was comin’ on now, and it was mighty bright up on that hill. And maybe it weren’t two wolves up on their hind legs, up an’ at each other’s throats... Maybe it was just two folks wrasslin’ back and forth, yer might say... But eyes be damned, I know the sound of wolves fightin’ when I hear it!”</p><p></p><p>“The shot, dammit, did you take the shot?” shouted the officer. Donne had grown silent, but his companion had clearly been drawn into Hank’s tale.</p><p></p><p>“Aye, sir, best I could, and just enough. One was down with a yelp and the other was off. I got another shot, though... might have took him in the hindquarters.”</p><p></p><p>“What of the one you dropped?” Donne asked.</p><p></p><p>“Well, sir, I weren’t rightly in no mood to stick around and find out. I ran straight away here-- run the whole way like the Devil himself was behind me.”</p><p></p><p>“Quite a run, indeed,” said the officer, chuckling. “Quite a tale, too, but that much at least rings true. Shame he didn’t have a second silver arrow, though, right Inspector?”</p><p></p><p>“Indeed,” said Donne, grabbing his coat and hat and limping out of the room. “A shame indeed.”</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Wulf Ratbane, post: 548082, member: 94"] And speaking of which: [URL=http://www.batreps.com/images/3e/story.pdf]LINK TO PDF VERSION WITH IMAGES[/URL] Here's the raw text: Inspector Donne limped in, tired and wet. He removed his wet overcoat and hung it on the rickety wooden stand beside the door. He beat his water-logged hat against his leg to dry it off as best he could, and with some difficulty managed to wrestle it down over the peg as well. Running his fingers through his grey-streaked hair and giving his head a bit of a quick shake of its own, he turned at last to face into the room, eager to address the reason for such a late and unexpected call. The hour had just barely passed where night could reasonably be called the dawn. “Sit up, now,” growled the burly officer behind the table. Rough hands gave a quick shake to the man seated there. The man had been dozing, face down, and he rose slowly with great effort. A red mark on his forehead hinted that he’d been resting for a few minutes, at least. Like the officer behind him, the man had rough hands, ill-used through a life of hard labor. His hair was a thick yellow tangle, tied up out of his eyes with a frayed cord. His shirt was a near perfect match to his hair-- a bright and gaudy yellow, though patched in several places and soiled here and there with thick clumps of mud. If he were not a man of Reason, Donne thought, the man might just as well have been a scarecrow, come to life and walked right out of his field. Donne smiled a bit despite himself. “Aye, now? Eh?” the man said, rising slowly from sleep to coherence. He had a simple country drawl and a simple, innocent way about him. “Good morning, Henry,” said Donne. “Ah, Hank, sir, I keep tellin’ yer.” “Very well, Hank. I trust you’ve something worthwhile to drag me out of bed this morning-- and you without a bath, even.” Donne sniffed. The metallic smell of stale sweat threatened to overpower the room. “Well, it’s about that lady, sir, as I reckon yer already guessed,” Hank gave a bit of a wink to the inspector, and Donne smiled back graciously. “That much, indeed, I confess I had. Very astute. You were saying?” “Well, sir, I been watchin’ the old manor, like yer asked,” he began. Indeed he had, Donne thought. A recent string of grisly murders in the area had, over the past several months, led Donne inexorably to the door of the Countess, an expatriate of one or another of those damnably indeterminate eastern European countries. He had Henry to thank for the clues that had led him to the Countess, and though the evidence had not yet mounted to his satisfaction, he had taken the groundskeeper into his confidence, sure that an extra pair of eyes and ears in the Countess’ own house would soon close the case. “Well,” Hank continued, “It was gettin’ on late last night, threatenin’ to rain, so yer might expect I was a bit surprised to wake up to a light movin’ across the grounds. Always been a light sleeper, I have, and blessed grateful for an overcast night to hide that moon.” Hank paused for a moment to make sure Inspector Donne was following along all right. Donne nodded for him to continue. “Well, I jumped to as quick as I could. This weren’t no flickerin’ torchlight, more like that ‘lectric lantern yer got, whatcha call it?” “A Ruhmkorff coil?” “Aye, just so, that’s the one. Just like that.” “Curious,” Donne said, frowning. “I don’t suppose it’s out of the question, an old manor house like that. The Countess is a woman of some education, after all, or so they say.” “Well, sir, the odd part was, the light stopped on the hill just outside the manor, so I figured to head out and take a look. “Forgive me, I wasn’t about to head out unarmed. I got my suspicions, sir, as I told yer before. Now, I know yer laugh,” Henry said, “but it was them old knockers what set me off. Sometimes, us simple folk, we just know, right? I’d been thinkin’ about it for a while now.” “Would you like a seat, Inspector?” asked the officer. Donne realized suddenly that he had been pacing back and forth. He waved his hand. “Helps me think. Please, go on.” “Well, as yer know, the Countess weren’t too keen on rifles since she got there. But I still have my old bow, right, so I scooped it up and headed out. ‘Sides,” Hank whispered, “I figured if there was trouble, last thing I needed was a gunshot bringin’ them grim bodyguards o’ hers runnin’. Don’t like the look o’ them for’ners.” “A wise precaution,” Donne admitted. “Well sir, I crept up near as I dared. There was some kind o’ sally port there at the base o’ the manor, right there in my little green hillocks. All this time an’ I never saw it... Truth be told with the light so bright I still couldn’t see much, but I saw the lady, sir, come skulkin’ and creepin’ up to the manor house.” “[i]To[/i] the manor?” the officer asked. Hank turned to the officer. “Aye, from the outside. An’ it were clear to me she were meetin’ someone there, someone skulkin’ up in there with the light behind ‘em. “And sir,” he said, turning back to Donne, “This weren’t no friendly meetin’. I heard ‘em sir, raised voices straight away. Angry voices...” “Go on,” said Donne. “Well, pardon me, sir, but I’m sure ‘e called ‘er a ‘gangrel bitch,’” Hank blushed, but recovered himself quickly. “An’ right about now, as yer might imagine, I was mighty glad I took them precautions, and then some... more’n yer think.” “What do you mean?” Donne asked. “Stole me the silver right out o’ the lady’s own manor, I did... Just one spoon, sir, but just enough... just enough. Enough for one shaft...” “What the devil?” said the officer. “Made me a silver arrow, sir. Melted it down to coat the whole shaft, and I was blessed glad to have it on my hip! By the time I looked up from my quiver, sir...” Hank paused. The room was silent. “Well, sir, the rain was comin’ on now, and it was mighty bright up on that hill. And maybe it weren’t two wolves up on their hind legs, up an’ at each other’s throats... Maybe it was just two folks wrasslin’ back and forth, yer might say... But eyes be damned, I know the sound of wolves fightin’ when I hear it!” “The shot, dammit, did you take the shot?” shouted the officer. Donne had grown silent, but his companion had clearly been drawn into Hank’s tale. “Aye, sir, best I could, and just enough. One was down with a yelp and the other was off. I got another shot, though... might have took him in the hindquarters.” “What of the one you dropped?” Donne asked. “Well, sir, I weren’t rightly in no mood to stick around and find out. I ran straight away here-- run the whole way like the Devil himself was behind me.” “Quite a run, indeed,” said the officer, chuckling. “Quite a tale, too, but that much at least rings true. Shame he didn’t have a second silver arrow, though, right Inspector?” “Indeed,” said Donne, grabbing his coat and hat and limping out of the room. “A shame indeed.” [/QUOTE]
Insert quotes…
Verification
Post reply
Community
Meta - Forums About Forums
Archive-threads
ceramic d.m. final judgement posted
Top