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Droid101's Story Hour, "Of Gods and Devils" Updated 10/12!
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<blockquote data-quote="Droid101" data-source="post: 2142881" data-attributes="member: 942"><p>Bink, Viknen, Bloodthorne, Ogrim, Eltharion and Grog make their way north. They needed to catch up to the dwarves if they wanted to help them re-take their underground strongholds from the dark elves.</p><p></p><p>“We knew it wasn’t you, Grog. We knew you couldn’t have done it…” Eltharion says, trying to comfort their obviously troubled friend.</p><p></p><p>“I’m fine now… don’t worry. We got him, and I’m fine,” Grog says, with his high-pitched goblin voice.</p><p></p><p>“Anyone else figure out how Blaze talked to us?” Bink asks.</p><p></p><p>“I don’t care. He helped us, and that’s all that matters,” Eltharion replies.</p><p></p><p>“True,” Ogrim says. “What happened to the guards?”</p><p></p><p>“Ran off. Good riddance, I say,” Bloodthorne says.</p><p></p><p>Bink casts a <em>teleport </em> to get them to the Adventurer’s Guildhall. They materialize out in front of the large keep. They head in. Behind the desk is sitting the brightly colored fop, Basil Evans. He stands as they approach.</p><p></p><p>“Ah, adventurers! Just so you know, we’re pretty empty. With the impending war, and the dark elves’ army marching on us and Baron, nobody is stopping in anymore,” Basil explains.</p><p></p><p>“That’s what we thought. Is there anyone here? We need a drink…” Eltharion says.</p><p></p><p>“Drinks!” Grog exclaims, not having had any in months.</p><p></p><p>“Certainly, myself and Wren Black are the only ones here,” Basil leads them to the gathering hall and bar. A man wearing all black is drinking alone. He stands when the Heroes approach.</p><p></p><p>“Well met, I think we’ve met before…” Wren says.</p><p></p><p>“Possibly, we’ve passed through here before,” Bink says.</p><p></p><p>Basil breaks out the drinks, and everyone partakes.</p><p></p><p>“To Blaze,” Eltharion toasts. Everyone drinks heartily.</p><p></p><p>“Did a large group of dwarves pass by here?” Ogrim asks.</p><p></p><p>“Actually, yesterday an army of dwarves marched past us, north toward the mountains. They were moving extremely quickly. Magic, I assume,” Basil says.</p><p></p><p>“We’ve no time to lose!” Ogrim says, hopping up.</p><p></p><p>“We can teleport there, worry not,” Bink says. Ogrim sits back down, taking another swig of stout lager.</p><p></p><p>“Can you send a message to the dwarven king or one of his advisors, asking where they’re at?” Eltharion asks.</p><p></p><p>“Sure,” Bink says, casting a <em>sending</em> spell.</p><p></p><p><em>Ogrim, Eltharion, Bloodthorne, Bink, Grog, and Viknen want to help retake the strongholds. Please respond.</em></p><p></p><p>A few moments later, a response comes to Bink’s mind.</p><p></p><p><em>Staging the attackin two days, in the evening. Join us at the south entrance of the mountain range.</em></p><p></p><p>“Looks like we have two days to rest here,” Bink says. </p><p></p><p>The Heroes rest and relax for the rest of that day. The next morning, they eat and talk more with Basil and Wren.</p><p></p><p>“So, what are your plans? Going to stay here and watch the dark elves destroy the Guildhall?” Grog asks them.</p><p></p><p>“I was thinking about it. But I guess we’ll have to abandon it soon. Not like we can defend against an army…” Basil says.</p><p></p><p>“Speak for yourself,” Wren chuckles.</p><p></p><p>“You are welcome to go to Sigil. We have a large mansion there in the busy part of town, we’re going to be turning it into a tavern and possibly a new guild. We could make it an offshoot of the Adventurer’s Guildhall…” Eltharion muses.</p><p></p><p>“We’ll definitely give it a thought,” Basil says, nudging Wren with an elbow.</p><p></p><p>“Oh, forgot to tell you, there was a strange tree outside the Guildhall for the past few days. There haven’t been any trees near here in ages, and all of a sudden, there it was,” Wren says.</p><p></p><p>“I don’t remember seeing one…” Eltharion looks quizzical. He walks out front to look, but sees nothing.</p><p></p><p>“Hm, gone as abruptly as it appeared. Strange,” Basil says.</p><p></p><p>That afternoon, they once again gather for dinner in the meeting hall. The large skull of a dragon hangs over them ominously.</p><p></p><p>“You could always come with us to help with the dwarves,” Bink says.</p><p></p><p>“I don’t know…” Wren is hesitant.</p><p></p><p>Just then, the front doors are heard loudly creaking open. Everyone stands to see who’s coming in.</p><p></p><p>Adlai and Damaré walk in. They approach. Adlai looks down, trying to avoid eye contact. Damaré walks right up, shaking Eltharion’s hand.</p><p></p><p>“Guys, you think I would have let you all leave without me? Why didn’t you come find me when you were summoned to the castle? I wouldn’t have stood there idly while you got banished,” Damaré says.</p><p></p><p>“Sorry! There’s so many of us that sometimes it’s hard to keep track,” Eltharion replies.</p><p></p><p>“Wat about de other one?” Viknen motions to Adlai.</p><p></p><p>Everybody waits for Adlai to speak. He looks up, but doesn’t. They wait a minute longer.</p><p></p><p>“I’m really sorry… I really had no choice…” Adlai says slowly.</p><p></p><p>“Adlai, we don’t care. You’re here now, and that’s all that matters,” Eltharion holds out his hand. Adlai shakes it hesitantly.</p><p></p><p>“What happened? Why did you come?” Bink asks.</p><p></p><p>“Well, when the guards got back they reported what Delroc said. Everything about the ancient prophecies being false. This fit right in with their scheme that the Prophet is the only one who knows the real truth, and the whole cult phenomenon. They banished me for supplying false information,” Adlai shakes his head slowly. “And for being half-elf.”</p><p></p><p>“You’re always welcome with us, friend,” Eltharion says.</p><p></p><p>“Isn’t Enzonito half-elf?” Ogrim asks.</p><p></p><p>“Yeah, but you think they’re going to banish one of their best warriors? Baron is putting all these strict laws into place that only matter if you’re NOT close with their government…” Adlai shakes his head once again.</p><p></p><p>“Geez, everything The Necromancer said was true. Baron is going too far…” Eltharion says, remembering their conversation with him, just before faking his death.</p><p></p><p>“Somebody say my name?” The Necromancer’s voice can be heard next to the bar. They see him sitting there, sipping Ogrim’s beer. “A bit strong.”</p><p></p><p>“Nekky!” Eltharion calls out. “What in Grumbar’s gravel are you doing here?”</p><p></p><p>“Oh, you know me, I can’t stay out of a fight. If you guys were determined to fight with Baron until the end, I had to join in. Came here, and was going to launch my own personal offensive on their ranks from the north while they pounded you to the south,” The Necromancer grins wickedly. “The real question is, what are YOU doing here? Shouldn’t you be in Baron?”</p><p></p><p>“They banished us,” Ogrim states.</p><p></p><p>“I hate to say I told you so…”</p><p></p><p>“Then don’t!” everyone says in unison.</p><p></p><p>“So what’s the plan? Gonna let Baron fall? I figure we can still help them out in the battle, even if they don’t want us there,” The Necromancer says.</p><p></p><p>“We’re planning on going to help the dwarves retake their stronghold,” Ogrim says.</p><p></p><p>“Or we can do that, fine by me, they saved our lives once,” The Necromancer says.</p><p></p><p>“We’re leaving tomorrow, so rest up,” Ogrim says, grabbing his lager back and finishing it.</p><p></p><p>The next day, they gather for lunch at midday.</p><p></p><p>“Everybody ready?” Ogrim asks as they eat.</p><p></p><p>“I’m ready to slaughter some dark elves…” Eltharion narrows his eyes.</p><p></p><p>They finish their meal, and have another round of drinks. Once again, the door creaks open loudly. Once again everybody stands to see who enters.</p><p></p><p>A beautiful, lithe, dark haired elf enters. Her skin is olive, her features delicate. She carries a gnarled staff and wears light flowing green robes of pure silk.</p><p></p><p>“We welcome you to the Adventurer’s Guildhall, fair maiden, and we are at your service,” Basil says, his foppish hat jingling.</p><p></p><p>“My name is Jelodia Greenleaf. I’m looking for Ogrim, Grog, Bink, and Eltharion. I need your help,” the elf speaks softly. “I’m going to stop the dark elves, once and for all. Will you help?”</p><p></p><p>Who is this girl? What does she have in store? How can she stop the dark elves? Too good to be true? Find out next time!</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Droid101, post: 2142881, member: 942"] Bink, Viknen, Bloodthorne, Ogrim, Eltharion and Grog make their way north. They needed to catch up to the dwarves if they wanted to help them re-take their underground strongholds from the dark elves. “We knew it wasn’t you, Grog. We knew you couldn’t have done it…” Eltharion says, trying to comfort their obviously troubled friend. “I’m fine now… don’t worry. We got him, and I’m fine,” Grog says, with his high-pitched goblin voice. “Anyone else figure out how Blaze talked to us?” Bink asks. “I don’t care. He helped us, and that’s all that matters,” Eltharion replies. “True,” Ogrim says. “What happened to the guards?” “Ran off. Good riddance, I say,” Bloodthorne says. Bink casts a [I]teleport [/I] to get them to the Adventurer’s Guildhall. They materialize out in front of the large keep. They head in. Behind the desk is sitting the brightly colored fop, Basil Evans. He stands as they approach. “Ah, adventurers! Just so you know, we’re pretty empty. With the impending war, and the dark elves’ army marching on us and Baron, nobody is stopping in anymore,” Basil explains. “That’s what we thought. Is there anyone here? We need a drink…” Eltharion says. “Drinks!” Grog exclaims, not having had any in months. “Certainly, myself and Wren Black are the only ones here,” Basil leads them to the gathering hall and bar. A man wearing all black is drinking alone. He stands when the Heroes approach. “Well met, I think we’ve met before…” Wren says. “Possibly, we’ve passed through here before,” Bink says. Basil breaks out the drinks, and everyone partakes. “To Blaze,” Eltharion toasts. Everyone drinks heartily. “Did a large group of dwarves pass by here?” Ogrim asks. “Actually, yesterday an army of dwarves marched past us, north toward the mountains. They were moving extremely quickly. Magic, I assume,” Basil says. “We’ve no time to lose!” Ogrim says, hopping up. “We can teleport there, worry not,” Bink says. Ogrim sits back down, taking another swig of stout lager. “Can you send a message to the dwarven king or one of his advisors, asking where they’re at?” Eltharion asks. “Sure,” Bink says, casting a [I]sending[/I] spell. [I]Ogrim, Eltharion, Bloodthorne, Bink, Grog, and Viknen want to help retake the strongholds. Please respond.[/I] A few moments later, a response comes to Bink’s mind. [I]Staging the attackin two days, in the evening. Join us at the south entrance of the mountain range.[/I] “Looks like we have two days to rest here,” Bink says. The Heroes rest and relax for the rest of that day. The next morning, they eat and talk more with Basil and Wren. “So, what are your plans? Going to stay here and watch the dark elves destroy the Guildhall?” Grog asks them. “I was thinking about it. But I guess we’ll have to abandon it soon. Not like we can defend against an army…” Basil says. “Speak for yourself,” Wren chuckles. “You are welcome to go to Sigil. We have a large mansion there in the busy part of town, we’re going to be turning it into a tavern and possibly a new guild. We could make it an offshoot of the Adventurer’s Guildhall…” Eltharion muses. “We’ll definitely give it a thought,” Basil says, nudging Wren with an elbow. “Oh, forgot to tell you, there was a strange tree outside the Guildhall for the past few days. There haven’t been any trees near here in ages, and all of a sudden, there it was,” Wren says. “I don’t remember seeing one…” Eltharion looks quizzical. He walks out front to look, but sees nothing. “Hm, gone as abruptly as it appeared. Strange,” Basil says. That afternoon, they once again gather for dinner in the meeting hall. The large skull of a dragon hangs over them ominously. “You could always come with us to help with the dwarves,” Bink says. “I don’t know…” Wren is hesitant. Just then, the front doors are heard loudly creaking open. Everyone stands to see who’s coming in. Adlai and Damaré walk in. They approach. Adlai looks down, trying to avoid eye contact. Damaré walks right up, shaking Eltharion’s hand. “Guys, you think I would have let you all leave without me? Why didn’t you come find me when you were summoned to the castle? I wouldn’t have stood there idly while you got banished,” Damaré says. “Sorry! There’s so many of us that sometimes it’s hard to keep track,” Eltharion replies. “Wat about de other one?” Viknen motions to Adlai. Everybody waits for Adlai to speak. He looks up, but doesn’t. They wait a minute longer. “I’m really sorry… I really had no choice…” Adlai says slowly. “Adlai, we don’t care. You’re here now, and that’s all that matters,” Eltharion holds out his hand. Adlai shakes it hesitantly. “What happened? Why did you come?” Bink asks. “Well, when the guards got back they reported what Delroc said. Everything about the ancient prophecies being false. This fit right in with their scheme that the Prophet is the only one who knows the real truth, and the whole cult phenomenon. They banished me for supplying false information,” Adlai shakes his head slowly. “And for being half-elf.” “You’re always welcome with us, friend,” Eltharion says. “Isn’t Enzonito half-elf?” Ogrim asks. “Yeah, but you think they’re going to banish one of their best warriors? Baron is putting all these strict laws into place that only matter if you’re NOT close with their government…” Adlai shakes his head once again. “Geez, everything The Necromancer said was true. Baron is going too far…” Eltharion says, remembering their conversation with him, just before faking his death. “Somebody say my name?” The Necromancer’s voice can be heard next to the bar. They see him sitting there, sipping Ogrim’s beer. “A bit strong.” “Nekky!” Eltharion calls out. “What in Grumbar’s gravel are you doing here?” “Oh, you know me, I can’t stay out of a fight. If you guys were determined to fight with Baron until the end, I had to join in. Came here, and was going to launch my own personal offensive on their ranks from the north while they pounded you to the south,” The Necromancer grins wickedly. “The real question is, what are YOU doing here? Shouldn’t you be in Baron?” “They banished us,” Ogrim states. “I hate to say I told you so…” “Then don’t!” everyone says in unison. “So what’s the plan? Gonna let Baron fall? I figure we can still help them out in the battle, even if they don’t want us there,” The Necromancer says. “We’re planning on going to help the dwarves retake their stronghold,” Ogrim says. “Or we can do that, fine by me, they saved our lives once,” The Necromancer says. “We’re leaving tomorrow, so rest up,” Ogrim says, grabbing his lager back and finishing it. The next day, they gather for lunch at midday. “Everybody ready?” Ogrim asks as they eat. “I’m ready to slaughter some dark elves…” Eltharion narrows his eyes. They finish their meal, and have another round of drinks. Once again, the door creaks open loudly. Once again everybody stands to see who enters. A beautiful, lithe, dark haired elf enters. Her skin is olive, her features delicate. She carries a gnarled staff and wears light flowing green robes of pure silk. “We welcome you to the Adventurer’s Guildhall, fair maiden, and we are at your service,” Basil says, his foppish hat jingling. “My name is Jelodia Greenleaf. I’m looking for Ogrim, Grog, Bink, and Eltharion. I need your help,” the elf speaks softly. “I’m going to stop the dark elves, once and for all. Will you help?” Who is this girl? What does she have in store? How can she stop the dark elves? Too good to be true? Find out next time! [/QUOTE]
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