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Middle World/Lakelands 1: Main Group
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<blockquote data-quote="Raven Crowking" data-source="post: 1966344" data-attributes="member: 18280"><p><strong>Seventeenth Game</strong></p><p></p><p>For a while they stood there, stunned. For a moment’s jest, they had lost an object that they believed they needed. After all, were it not some item of power, something they would need on their journey, why would the Three Heads of the Well have told them how to obtain it?</p><p></p><p>Desu gave voice to what they were all thinking: “We need that stick.”</p><p></p><p>“Fine,” said Nift. He threw back his cape and marched toward the door. He rapped smartly on the door, but got nothing for his troubles but a muffled voice telling him to go away. Instead, he reached down and pulled the door open.</p><p></p><p>The white cat flew at him, landing on his face, clawing and spitting. It was cold…so very, very cold. As it clawed at Nift, its breath was like ice. Had Nift been alone, he would have been in severe trouble. Yet he was not alone. Firestar Dragonheart reached in and pulled the cat off Nift, cutting it in twain with the magical sword Nift had given him. They threw the dead cat off the trail, and then turned toward the door. It had closed, perhaps of its own accord.</p><p></p><p>Now, knowing better their danger, they made quick plans to open the door. Eden prepared a spell, while Gork, Locke and Manveru made their weapons ready. Desu looked grim. Firestar stepped forward, and threw open the door once more.</p><p></p><p>This time, no mere cat faced them, but the Old Bone Man himself. The very sight of him seemed to paralyze them with despair. “If you will not leave me in peace,” the Old Bone Man said, “you shall never leave at all.” He breathed out a cold wind upon them, and all it touched felt the strength run out of their limbs. Laughing coldly, the Old Bone Man reached behind his door and pulled forth a rune-covered ash staff, shod at either end with knobs of cold iron.</p><p></p><p>Firestar and Gork leading the way, the party entered the House of Bone – which the Three Heads had told them not to do – with their weapons swinging. Trying to find a more secure position, Nift stepped to the side of the door outside, and off the path. Instantly, he was gone. Inside, weapons seemed to have little effect upon the Old Bone Man. Steel seemed barely to bite in his cold, hard flesh. </p><p></p><p>Outside, it fell to Eden and Desu to call forth Bryne of Lig once more.</p><p></p><p style="text-align: center">“Come Bryne of Lig, Come Bryne of Lig,</p> <p style="text-align: center">By Branch and Bough and Tinder Twig.”</p><p></p><p>“What is it you need, my friends?” said the small, fire-haired gnome, who had appeared seemingly from nowhere.</p><p></p><p>“Can you bring back Nift, who has strayed off the path?” asked Eden.</p><p></p><p>“A simple thing,” said Bryne of Lig, and he stepped off the path, returning almost as swiftly with Nift in tow. “That is twice I have aided you,” he said. “I owe you a third time…shall I take care of yonder for you?” He inclined his head toward the House of Bone. The clamour of serious combat came from within.</p><p></p><p>“No,” said Desu. He was worried that they might yet need to call upon Bryne of Lig’s aid another time, and he was concerned with what the small fey would want as a reward if they had no more favors owing.</p><p></p><p>“Then I shall come as I came,” said Bryne. “With a hop, and a pop, and a burst of flame.” He leaped into the air and burst into flame, disappearing into a little spark.</p><p></p><p>Within the House of Bone, Firestar had a sudden premonition that the Old Bone Man was about to use the ashen staff…and that if he did so, not a one of them would survive. “The staff!” he shouted, and redoubled his efforts.</p><p></p><p>Risking all, Gork grabbed at the staff. Gaining hold of it, he strained his mighty muscles, trying to wrest it from the Old Bone Man, whose eyes now blazed with red light. With a twist and a heave, Gork pulled the staff free. He stumbled backward with the sudden release.</p><p></p><p>“Run!” shouted Firestar. “I will cover your retreat!”</p><p></p><p>They ran, back to the fork in the path, and up the slope. Even with the danger behind them, they refused to relinquish their cart. Luckily for them, the Old Bone Man did not pursue them beyond where the road forked. Even so, Firestar was sorely wounded. They had little magical healing left, and they well knew that wounds would not heal naturally so long as they remained in Faerieland.</p><p></p><p>The path continued to climb into the mountains beyond the House of Bone. As the path grew steeper, it became increasingly difficult to pull the cart. Eventually, it required two people, and they were forced to go with extra care, or the cart would go crashing down the steep slope.</p><p></p><p>It felt as though five days had passed from the time they had fled the House of Bone to the time they approached the top of the pass. It had been growing steadily colder as the elevation rose, until their spring clothing no longer provided adequate warmth. Outside Faerieland, it would have been cold enough that freezing to death would have become a real concern. Here, they found themselves moving more slowly, and their reflexes were dulled. At least at the top of the pass, when the cart was released, it did not immediately begin to skid down the path, as the snow impeded its progress.</p><p></p><p>In that place, they were attacked by an invisible ice faerie, but they made short work of it.</p><p></p><p>From the top of the pass, the path descended sharply, and soon they found themselves in warmer lands. As the steep slope gentled, winter seemed to give way to spring, then spring flourished fully. There were many tiny rivulets beside the path, and fruit was growing. Hungry, and not at all certain that the warnings of Bryne of Lig were to be taken seriously, Nift tried some of the fruit. He found it delicious indeed, but none of his companions would share his discovery with him.</p><p></p><p>Coming off the mountain, they saw ahead of them two huge longstones, each fully five feet wide and five times as tall, one on either side of the road. As they approached, a giant figure stepped from behind one of the stones. It was a knight clad in emerald green plate mail, bearing a huge greataxe. The creature was easily as tall as an ogre. </p><p></p><p>“You all may pass,” it said, “save you, and you,” pointing to Desu and Locke.</p><p></p><p>Firestar paused to concentrate, seeking to know if the creature before him was evil. He could sense nothing foul about it.</p><p></p><p>“Why not?” asked Locke.</p><p></p><p>“You have consumed my kin,” the Green Knight said. “You have eaten the heads of pixies, and the stench of it is foul upon you.”</p><p></p><p>“No we haven’t!” said Desu. “I never ate pixie heads!”</p><p></p><p>“What proof do you have?” asked Nift.</p><p></p><p>“Do not insult my honor,” said the Green Knight. “What need I with proof?”</p><p></p><p>“I do not mean to insult you,” said Firestar, “but how do you know they have eaten pixie heads?”</p><p></p><p>“Servant of the Gods, how do you know that I am not evil?” the Green Knight rejoined. “In the same way, I know that they consumed my kin.”</p><p></p><p>“You need proof!” Nift said. “Who are you to accuse them of anything?”</p><p></p><p>The Green Knight lifted his greataxe and took one step forward. Nift ran quickly, hiding behind the wagon.</p><p></p><p>“Insult me again,” the Green Knight warned, “and I will take thy life.”</p><p></p><p>A sudden remembrance came to Desu, and he shuddered. A pile of turnips in that seemed for a moment to become a jumbled pile of tiny heads, that he stewed with boar’s meat and consumed. Only he and Locke remained from that time, when he had met the old crone whose donkey they rescued.</p><p></p><p>“I would make things right,” he said. “What must we do?”</p><p></p><p>“One of you must undertake this challenge: three blows with this axe I will allow you to take. If I live, in a year and a day you must come to me, and I will be granted three blows in return.”</p><p></p><p>“Does it matter who does what?” Desu asked. “Must the one who takes the blows be the one who receives them?”</p><p></p><p>“I care not, so long as one of you does this thing.”</p><p></p><p>“You can’t make them do that!” said Nift. “You have no right!” He scurried away again when the Green Knight turned his attention his way.</p><p></p><p>“Your life is forfeit,” the Green Knight said.</p><p></p><p>“Very well, said Locke, in an attempt to forestall anything worse from happening. “I will accept your challenge.”</p><p></p><p>Locke took the great axe from the Green Knight, who knelt on the path before him. His first blow barely cut into the Green Knight’s massive neck, but his second blow did better. On the third blow, the Green Knight’s head rolled to the ground.</p><p></p><p>Nift came out of hiding.</p><p></p><p>The emerald-clad knight rose to his feet, his nine-foot height shortened by the loss of his head. Unerringly, the creature lifted his head by the hair and turned it face the travellers. “I will see you in a year and a day,” the Green Knight said to Desu and Locke. Turning the head to where Nift stood open-mouthed at the figure's rising, he added, “You I will see far sooner.” The green figure stepped behind one of the massive longstones and disappeared, leaving a scent like ozone behind.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Raven Crowking, post: 1966344, member: 18280"] [b]Seventeenth Game[/b] For a while they stood there, stunned. For a moment’s jest, they had lost an object that they believed they needed. After all, were it not some item of power, something they would need on their journey, why would the Three Heads of the Well have told them how to obtain it? Desu gave voice to what they were all thinking: “We need that stick.” “Fine,” said Nift. He threw back his cape and marched toward the door. He rapped smartly on the door, but got nothing for his troubles but a muffled voice telling him to go away. Instead, he reached down and pulled the door open. The white cat flew at him, landing on his face, clawing and spitting. It was cold…so very, very cold. As it clawed at Nift, its breath was like ice. Had Nift been alone, he would have been in severe trouble. Yet he was not alone. Firestar Dragonheart reached in and pulled the cat off Nift, cutting it in twain with the magical sword Nift had given him. They threw the dead cat off the trail, and then turned toward the door. It had closed, perhaps of its own accord. Now, knowing better their danger, they made quick plans to open the door. Eden prepared a spell, while Gork, Locke and Manveru made their weapons ready. Desu looked grim. Firestar stepped forward, and threw open the door once more. This time, no mere cat faced them, but the Old Bone Man himself. The very sight of him seemed to paralyze them with despair. “If you will not leave me in peace,” the Old Bone Man said, “you shall never leave at all.” He breathed out a cold wind upon them, and all it touched felt the strength run out of their limbs. Laughing coldly, the Old Bone Man reached behind his door and pulled forth a rune-covered ash staff, shod at either end with knobs of cold iron. Firestar and Gork leading the way, the party entered the House of Bone – which the Three Heads had told them not to do – with their weapons swinging. Trying to find a more secure position, Nift stepped to the side of the door outside, and off the path. Instantly, he was gone. Inside, weapons seemed to have little effect upon the Old Bone Man. Steel seemed barely to bite in his cold, hard flesh. Outside, it fell to Eden and Desu to call forth Bryne of Lig once more. [CENTER]“Come Bryne of Lig, Come Bryne of Lig, By Branch and Bough and Tinder Twig.”[/CENTER] “What is it you need, my friends?” said the small, fire-haired gnome, who had appeared seemingly from nowhere. “Can you bring back Nift, who has strayed off the path?” asked Eden. “A simple thing,” said Bryne of Lig, and he stepped off the path, returning almost as swiftly with Nift in tow. “That is twice I have aided you,” he said. “I owe you a third time…shall I take care of yonder for you?” He inclined his head toward the House of Bone. The clamour of serious combat came from within. “No,” said Desu. He was worried that they might yet need to call upon Bryne of Lig’s aid another time, and he was concerned with what the small fey would want as a reward if they had no more favors owing. “Then I shall come as I came,” said Bryne. “With a hop, and a pop, and a burst of flame.” He leaped into the air and burst into flame, disappearing into a little spark. Within the House of Bone, Firestar had a sudden premonition that the Old Bone Man was about to use the ashen staff…and that if he did so, not a one of them would survive. “The staff!” he shouted, and redoubled his efforts. Risking all, Gork grabbed at the staff. Gaining hold of it, he strained his mighty muscles, trying to wrest it from the Old Bone Man, whose eyes now blazed with red light. With a twist and a heave, Gork pulled the staff free. He stumbled backward with the sudden release. “Run!” shouted Firestar. “I will cover your retreat!” They ran, back to the fork in the path, and up the slope. Even with the danger behind them, they refused to relinquish their cart. Luckily for them, the Old Bone Man did not pursue them beyond where the road forked. Even so, Firestar was sorely wounded. They had little magical healing left, and they well knew that wounds would not heal naturally so long as they remained in Faerieland. The path continued to climb into the mountains beyond the House of Bone. As the path grew steeper, it became increasingly difficult to pull the cart. Eventually, it required two people, and they were forced to go with extra care, or the cart would go crashing down the steep slope. It felt as though five days had passed from the time they had fled the House of Bone to the time they approached the top of the pass. It had been growing steadily colder as the elevation rose, until their spring clothing no longer provided adequate warmth. Outside Faerieland, it would have been cold enough that freezing to death would have become a real concern. Here, they found themselves moving more slowly, and their reflexes were dulled. At least at the top of the pass, when the cart was released, it did not immediately begin to skid down the path, as the snow impeded its progress. In that place, they were attacked by an invisible ice faerie, but they made short work of it. From the top of the pass, the path descended sharply, and soon they found themselves in warmer lands. As the steep slope gentled, winter seemed to give way to spring, then spring flourished fully. There were many tiny rivulets beside the path, and fruit was growing. Hungry, and not at all certain that the warnings of Bryne of Lig were to be taken seriously, Nift tried some of the fruit. He found it delicious indeed, but none of his companions would share his discovery with him. Coming off the mountain, they saw ahead of them two huge longstones, each fully five feet wide and five times as tall, one on either side of the road. As they approached, a giant figure stepped from behind one of the stones. It was a knight clad in emerald green plate mail, bearing a huge greataxe. The creature was easily as tall as an ogre. “You all may pass,” it said, “save you, and you,” pointing to Desu and Locke. Firestar paused to concentrate, seeking to know if the creature before him was evil. He could sense nothing foul about it. “Why not?” asked Locke. “You have consumed my kin,” the Green Knight said. “You have eaten the heads of pixies, and the stench of it is foul upon you.” “No we haven’t!” said Desu. “I never ate pixie heads!” “What proof do you have?” asked Nift. “Do not insult my honor,” said the Green Knight. “What need I with proof?” “I do not mean to insult you,” said Firestar, “but how do you know they have eaten pixie heads?” “Servant of the Gods, how do you know that I am not evil?” the Green Knight rejoined. “In the same way, I know that they consumed my kin.” “You need proof!” Nift said. “Who are you to accuse them of anything?” The Green Knight lifted his greataxe and took one step forward. Nift ran quickly, hiding behind the wagon. “Insult me again,” the Green Knight warned, “and I will take thy life.” A sudden remembrance came to Desu, and he shuddered. A pile of turnips in that seemed for a moment to become a jumbled pile of tiny heads, that he stewed with boar’s meat and consumed. Only he and Locke remained from that time, when he had met the old crone whose donkey they rescued. “I would make things right,” he said. “What must we do?” “One of you must undertake this challenge: three blows with this axe I will allow you to take. If I live, in a year and a day you must come to me, and I will be granted three blows in return.” “Does it matter who does what?” Desu asked. “Must the one who takes the blows be the one who receives them?” “I care not, so long as one of you does this thing.” “You can’t make them do that!” said Nift. “You have no right!” He scurried away again when the Green Knight turned his attention his way. “Your life is forfeit,” the Green Knight said. “Very well, said Locke, in an attempt to forestall anything worse from happening. “I will accept your challenge.” Locke took the great axe from the Green Knight, who knelt on the path before him. His first blow barely cut into the Green Knight’s massive neck, but his second blow did better. On the third blow, the Green Knight’s head rolled to the ground. Nift came out of hiding. The emerald-clad knight rose to his feet, his nine-foot height shortened by the loss of his head. Unerringly, the creature lifted his head by the hair and turned it face the travellers. “I will see you in a year and a day,” the Green Knight said to Desu and Locke. Turning the head to where Nift stood open-mouthed at the figure's rising, he added, “You I will see far sooner.” The green figure stepped behind one of the massive longstones and disappeared, leaving a scent like ozone behind. [/QUOTE]
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