Inez Hull
First Post
IV: How Clean Is My Paladin?
The drooling ogre stared down at the silvered warrior which had appeared at its door. It paused, hoisted the cruel-bladed axe onto one hugely powerful shoulder and prepared for the inevitable onslaught of small and squashy adventurers all fighting to see who should be first in line to die.
“Er, excuse me...”, Virgil, Holy Knight Paladin, wielder of the Sword of Righteousness, wearer of the Golden Badge of Goodliness, five times winner of the ‘Bravest Most Friendly, Truthful and Honest Paladin in Shannafriadom’ award, puffed up his mighty chest and stormed politely to the front of the party, Mango performed a similar move, but in reverse.
“If I may be so bold... ”, Virgil continued, “...as the group as a collective have decided against the normal protocol of organising a conference of war, you know, some sort of round table discussion from which could have been formalised a clearly defined pro-active agreement as to the rules of engagement and the...”,
The ogre shuffled impatiently; brutish, yellow eyes narrowing, confused. Nothing was happening. Just a wall of tinny noise echoing out of the canned adventurer’s head-piece. The ogre wondered idly if this was some kind of new spell.
“...and as our duly elected leader appears to have momentarily found himself somewhere near the rear of the party...”, Virgil looked around wondering where Mango had gotten to, “...it has fallen upon me, as the warrior with the next most impressive armour, to open up the preliminary negotiations pending the dispatch of your good self.”
The ogre rubbed its sloped forehead even more confused. He much preferred it when they didn’t talk. Still, maybe he was wrong about this group; they seemed friendly enough.
“Negotiations? Negotiate your sword up his jaxie, you shiny idiot!” Spud exploded, indignation bursting from every greasy pore. “This is supposed to be a terror filled adventure, not some bloody silly board game!”
“Is this some new plan no one informed me about?” asked Wilson, resident mage.
“You charge in, butcher the b@stard, pause to loot the corpse, then push on to the next treasure filled bit!” said Spud.
“And eat the food, Spud”, said Zeek, the pudgy priest, “you forgot about the food.”
The paladin looked crestfallen. ‘Well I really think...,”
“Obviously!” retorted Wilson. “Will you just get on with it! Do what we normally do in these situations. Don’t waste time thinking, just kill it!”
“Fair enough then”, Virgil slammed down his visor with a renewed sense of purpose and stepped through the doorway.
The ogre scratched the back of its lumpy head. He’d never been faced with so many words before. Normally they simply kicked the door in, screamed a bit, then started hitting him. Then he’d hit back, kill ‘em, eat the tasty bits and sit down with a bone to suck on, waiting for the next batch of adventurers to turn up. This lot, however, were different, sort of friendly. All right, he’d play along with their silly game.
The ogre gave what he surmised was a welcoming smile, only his ferocious teeth and tusks got in the way. Virgil did what any self-respecting paladin would do in the face of such blatant aggression. He hit the ogre in the face with his sword.
Hearing the sound of distant combat, Mango re-appeared and tried desperately to peep over Spud’s shoulder into the room. “Kill what? Is there something in there?”
“Dunno really”, said Shana. “Ogre I think.”
“Oh?” said a relieved Mango, drawing himself up to his full height. “In that case, I’d better go in and deal with it. For a moment there I thought it might be a demon or something.”
Mango charged forward toward the open doorway, but was promptly sent sprawling to the ground as he bounced off the chubby body of Abel Zeek who had stepped into his way.
“What the...?”
Zeek looked up from where he’d been scrupulously examining the doorjamb.
“Thought there might be a secret door lever”, he explained jauntily, then returned to his close scrutiny of the door frame.
“A secret what?” Mango asked. “The bloody door is wide open? What do we need another entrance for?”
“You can never be too careful about these things”, Zeek smiled politely. “I’ll just move down here and check this bit then, shall I?”
Mango groaned and stayed down a while longer. He didn’t know which was bigger, Zeek’s stupidity or the cleric’s belly.
Meanwhile, inside the tower, the ogre howled in pain as Virgil’s bright blade split his smile even wider. Ogre blood sprayed across the paladin, then ran away to the ground in great droplets like water off a duck’s back. Virgil struck again, but this time the ogre managed to dodge the blow whilst slamming his broad-bladed axe heavily against the paladin’s breastplate. Virgil staggered back, breathing heavy.
“Think we should help him?” asked Shana.
“He didn’t ask”, observed Wilson, picking some lint from his rune-chased robe. “Anyway, seems to be coping all right.”
The ogre swung again, a mighty whooshing swing of the axe, and again found his mark with a thunderous impact that would have cleaved a one-stab opponent in twain. But it merely made Virgil stagger backwards, toppling a table and overturning a bucket of slops. A faint bruising appeared on the paladin’s forehead and the foul smelling refuse dribbled off his armour in neat rivulets. Virgil stabbed back expertly; more ogre blood sprayed over and off the paladin.
“How’s he do that?” asked Spud.
“What?” inquired Wilson.
Virgil and the ogre grappled across the room. Their weapons locked together, they smashed to the floor.
“Make all the blood run off him like that?” continued Spud.
The ogre flung Virgil across the room and up against a wall. A shelf shattered and its contents fell over the paladin. He paused, a slight dribble of blood oozing from his mouth, breathing heavy, but otherwise unharmed by the repeated onslaught of the ogre. Not being a one-stab creature makes a difference! Even so, this was getting beyond a joke. Virgil chanced a glance through the doorway, but no immediate help seemed to be forthcoming, only a thick wad of pig droppings picked up in the courtyard and thrown at him by Wilson. It hit the paladin square in the chest and slid to the ground.
“See! Did you see that? It never even left a mark on him!”
The ogre roared like a mad bull, charging the weary paladin with axe raised high. Virgil fell to his knees and pulled his sword up to fend off the attack, plunging the bright blade up to his elbows into the ogre’s exposed abdomen. The ogre stopped dead in its tracks, its confused smile frozen forever.
“Its like I told you”, Wilson explained. “Sh#t never sticks to a paladin.”
Mango strode into the room, his armour buckled and sword drawn. “Right then, lads, lets get this fight over with!”
Zeek peeped around the coiner. “Any secret doors in there?”
Shana stood in the doorway, a look of disgust playing across her face. “This pad needs a woman’s touch.”
“Yeah, me too”, leered Spud, his grotesque head appearing between her legs.
“Any treasure?” asked Wilson.
Virgil slid to the ground exhausted. “Medic!”
The drooling ogre stared down at the silvered warrior which had appeared at its door. It paused, hoisted the cruel-bladed axe onto one hugely powerful shoulder and prepared for the inevitable onslaught of small and squashy adventurers all fighting to see who should be first in line to die.
“Er, excuse me...”, Virgil, Holy Knight Paladin, wielder of the Sword of Righteousness, wearer of the Golden Badge of Goodliness, five times winner of the ‘Bravest Most Friendly, Truthful and Honest Paladin in Shannafriadom’ award, puffed up his mighty chest and stormed politely to the front of the party, Mango performed a similar move, but in reverse.
“If I may be so bold... ”, Virgil continued, “...as the group as a collective have decided against the normal protocol of organising a conference of war, you know, some sort of round table discussion from which could have been formalised a clearly defined pro-active agreement as to the rules of engagement and the...”,
The ogre shuffled impatiently; brutish, yellow eyes narrowing, confused. Nothing was happening. Just a wall of tinny noise echoing out of the canned adventurer’s head-piece. The ogre wondered idly if this was some kind of new spell.
“...and as our duly elected leader appears to have momentarily found himself somewhere near the rear of the party...”, Virgil looked around wondering where Mango had gotten to, “...it has fallen upon me, as the warrior with the next most impressive armour, to open up the preliminary negotiations pending the dispatch of your good self.”
The ogre rubbed its sloped forehead even more confused. He much preferred it when they didn’t talk. Still, maybe he was wrong about this group; they seemed friendly enough.
“Negotiations? Negotiate your sword up his jaxie, you shiny idiot!” Spud exploded, indignation bursting from every greasy pore. “This is supposed to be a terror filled adventure, not some bloody silly board game!”
“Is this some new plan no one informed me about?” asked Wilson, resident mage.
“You charge in, butcher the b@stard, pause to loot the corpse, then push on to the next treasure filled bit!” said Spud.
“And eat the food, Spud”, said Zeek, the pudgy priest, “you forgot about the food.”
The paladin looked crestfallen. ‘Well I really think...,”
“Obviously!” retorted Wilson. “Will you just get on with it! Do what we normally do in these situations. Don’t waste time thinking, just kill it!”
“Fair enough then”, Virgil slammed down his visor with a renewed sense of purpose and stepped through the doorway.
The ogre scratched the back of its lumpy head. He’d never been faced with so many words before. Normally they simply kicked the door in, screamed a bit, then started hitting him. Then he’d hit back, kill ‘em, eat the tasty bits and sit down with a bone to suck on, waiting for the next batch of adventurers to turn up. This lot, however, were different, sort of friendly. All right, he’d play along with their silly game.
The ogre gave what he surmised was a welcoming smile, only his ferocious teeth and tusks got in the way. Virgil did what any self-respecting paladin would do in the face of such blatant aggression. He hit the ogre in the face with his sword.
Hearing the sound of distant combat, Mango re-appeared and tried desperately to peep over Spud’s shoulder into the room. “Kill what? Is there something in there?”
“Dunno really”, said Shana. “Ogre I think.”
“Oh?” said a relieved Mango, drawing himself up to his full height. “In that case, I’d better go in and deal with it. For a moment there I thought it might be a demon or something.”
Mango charged forward toward the open doorway, but was promptly sent sprawling to the ground as he bounced off the chubby body of Abel Zeek who had stepped into his way.
“What the...?”
Zeek looked up from where he’d been scrupulously examining the doorjamb.
“Thought there might be a secret door lever”, he explained jauntily, then returned to his close scrutiny of the door frame.
“A secret what?” Mango asked. “The bloody door is wide open? What do we need another entrance for?”
“You can never be too careful about these things”, Zeek smiled politely. “I’ll just move down here and check this bit then, shall I?”
Mango groaned and stayed down a while longer. He didn’t know which was bigger, Zeek’s stupidity or the cleric’s belly.
Meanwhile, inside the tower, the ogre howled in pain as Virgil’s bright blade split his smile even wider. Ogre blood sprayed across the paladin, then ran away to the ground in great droplets like water off a duck’s back. Virgil struck again, but this time the ogre managed to dodge the blow whilst slamming his broad-bladed axe heavily against the paladin’s breastplate. Virgil staggered back, breathing heavy.
“Think we should help him?” asked Shana.
“He didn’t ask”, observed Wilson, picking some lint from his rune-chased robe. “Anyway, seems to be coping all right.”
The ogre swung again, a mighty whooshing swing of the axe, and again found his mark with a thunderous impact that would have cleaved a one-stab opponent in twain. But it merely made Virgil stagger backwards, toppling a table and overturning a bucket of slops. A faint bruising appeared on the paladin’s forehead and the foul smelling refuse dribbled off his armour in neat rivulets. Virgil stabbed back expertly; more ogre blood sprayed over and off the paladin.
“How’s he do that?” asked Spud.
“What?” inquired Wilson.
Virgil and the ogre grappled across the room. Their weapons locked together, they smashed to the floor.
“Make all the blood run off him like that?” continued Spud.
The ogre flung Virgil across the room and up against a wall. A shelf shattered and its contents fell over the paladin. He paused, a slight dribble of blood oozing from his mouth, breathing heavy, but otherwise unharmed by the repeated onslaught of the ogre. Not being a one-stab creature makes a difference! Even so, this was getting beyond a joke. Virgil chanced a glance through the doorway, but no immediate help seemed to be forthcoming, only a thick wad of pig droppings picked up in the courtyard and thrown at him by Wilson. It hit the paladin square in the chest and slid to the ground.
“See! Did you see that? It never even left a mark on him!”
The ogre roared like a mad bull, charging the weary paladin with axe raised high. Virgil fell to his knees and pulled his sword up to fend off the attack, plunging the bright blade up to his elbows into the ogre’s exposed abdomen. The ogre stopped dead in its tracks, its confused smile frozen forever.
“Its like I told you”, Wilson explained. “Sh#t never sticks to a paladin.”
Mango strode into the room, his armour buckled and sword drawn. “Right then, lads, lets get this fight over with!”
Zeek peeped around the coiner. “Any secret doors in there?”
Shana stood in the doorway, a look of disgust playing across her face. “This pad needs a woman’s touch.”
“Yeah, me too”, leered Spud, his grotesque head appearing between her legs.
“Any treasure?” asked Wilson.
Virgil slid to the ground exhausted. “Medic!”
he thought they were gonna be all friendly and talk to him ... heh, gotta love that. Reminds me of Sunless Citadel when my group spotted lil ol' Meepo cowering in the corner under a blanket. Like any good group of adventurers we promptly killed him 
