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Sniktch's Story Hour Prelude - From the Beginning (UPDATED 04/22)
- Thread starter Sniktch
- Start date
Sniktch
First Post
Fredegar
So sorry this update has taken me so long to write; I've just taken on too many things at once and something had to suffer for it. Unfortunately, this story hour seems to have taken the brunt of my lack of time. Anyway, better late than never - here it is and I'll posts more as fast as I can get it typed:
*****
The companions simply stared at the strange dwarf for a moment in stunned silence. Most of them had not really understood the words he’d just uttered and were still puzzling them over in their heads. Jack stepped forward first, somewhat familiar with the accent.
“Name’s Stumpwater Jack, but ya can call me just Jack if’n ya like. These’re me friends in arms. We found ya in Duernfast durin’ our explorations, an’ I couldna in good faith leave a fellow dwarf in such a condition.”
“Oi be much obloiged to ‘ee then. Wot year izzit? ‘Ow long ‘ave I bin loike ‘at?”
“Mmm, couldna tell ya. But the year is 984, if’n that tells ya anythin. I notice ya said yer name is Ironhammer, an’ if’n I’m not mistaken that were the name on the door of the clanhome we were checkin. Are ya really from before the Fall?”
“Oh, hurr, hurr, no. Moi clan ‘ailed fro’ Doornfast once, but Oi be fro’ a groop no’ unloike yer owen. Oi ‘eaded there in noine-sitty-too to foind me roots, an’, hurr, yoo seen wot ‘appened.” The dwarf shrugged. “Moit as well keep at it, if yoo’ll take me.”
Welby tugged at Artimas’ robes and the mage looked down at him. “What he say?” the halfling asked.
“Wish I knew. I think he’s speaking Umbrian but the accent is very thick. Jack and Quinn seem to understand him, so it’s probably a dwarf thing.”
Jack glared at the mage. “We’re standin right here, y’know,” he growled. “This here’s Fred, wants ta join the group. I say we let ‘im.” Jack stepped back and glowered at the scholar.
Artimas waved his arms in a non-committal manner. “Suits me fine if no one else objects.” No one else did, and Fredegar was added to the ranks of the companions.
*****
The next day at breakfast the companions were gathered around the largest table in the Foaming Mug when a female halfling strolled into the inn. She was dressed in traveling leathers and wore a long dagger on her belt, but otherwise she appeared to be a dainty and pretty little thing.
She approached the bar and spoke quietly with Ned for several minutes, then scanned the rest of the room and seemed to notice the companions for the first time, her eyes coming to rest on Welby. The barbarian was currently seated in front of an enormous mound of pancakes that he was trying to shovel down his throat as fast as possible. Smiling, she nodded and skipped lightly over to stand beside him, waiting for him to come up for air and then sticking her hand in front of his face.
“Hi! I’m Anemone, and its nice to meet you, good looking. I just got here from Ravensdale, stupid Crusaders chased me outta town, but hey! At least I got away, right?” She paused and waited but none of the party members acknowledged her presence, particularly the bald halfling, who stared at the hand in his face (and between him and his plate of food) with an expression of mingled bemusement and mounting anger.
Anemone shrugged and continued, “So, any of you come from Ravensdale, too? Terrible what’s happening there, just awful. Used to be such a fun town, but now its just dull.
“Say, that looks good. Mind if I share with you, big guy?” the pretty halfling asked teasingly and reached towards Welby’s plate.
The effect on the warrior was frightening. As her hand approached his meal a low feral growl erupted from his throat, freezing Anemone in her tracks. She stared at Welby uncertainly, perhaps expecting him to be joking, but he growled again and grabbed his axe in a white-knuckled grip.
“Don’t touch food,” he managed to voice around his mounting rage.
She stepped back, alarm showing in her large hazel eyes. “But I... I didn’t mean...”
“Don’t touch food! My food!” Welby shouted, standing and raising his axe. His body was held taut with tension and his small muscles stood out like knotted cords of rope.
The female continued to shuffle away from him, the fear growing on her features. “You big bully, how could you? I have friends to you know, and when they get to town you’ll be sorry, you will. They’ll teach you how to treat a lady.” She spit out the last few words and spun on her heels, racing for the open door and disappearing into the daylight.
The Crow could contain himself no longer and started laughing uproariously, upsetting his beer. “Haha, now that’ll teach her! Never come between Welby and a meal!”
The companions shared a hearty laugh over the incident, Welby calm again now that his plate wasn’t being threatened. When they had all finished they rose and went upstairs to pack their supplies. By midday they were on their way back to Duernfast, looking forward to the adventures that lay ahead.
So sorry this update has taken me so long to write; I've just taken on too many things at once and something had to suffer for it. Unfortunately, this story hour seems to have taken the brunt of my lack of time. Anyway, better late than never - here it is and I'll posts more as fast as I can get it typed:
*****
The companions simply stared at the strange dwarf for a moment in stunned silence. Most of them had not really understood the words he’d just uttered and were still puzzling them over in their heads. Jack stepped forward first, somewhat familiar with the accent.
“Name’s Stumpwater Jack, but ya can call me just Jack if’n ya like. These’re me friends in arms. We found ya in Duernfast durin’ our explorations, an’ I couldna in good faith leave a fellow dwarf in such a condition.”
“Oi be much obloiged to ‘ee then. Wot year izzit? ‘Ow long ‘ave I bin loike ‘at?”
“Mmm, couldna tell ya. But the year is 984, if’n that tells ya anythin. I notice ya said yer name is Ironhammer, an’ if’n I’m not mistaken that were the name on the door of the clanhome we were checkin. Are ya really from before the Fall?”
“Oh, hurr, hurr, no. Moi clan ‘ailed fro’ Doornfast once, but Oi be fro’ a groop no’ unloike yer owen. Oi ‘eaded there in noine-sitty-too to foind me roots, an’, hurr, yoo seen wot ‘appened.” The dwarf shrugged. “Moit as well keep at it, if yoo’ll take me.”
Welby tugged at Artimas’ robes and the mage looked down at him. “What he say?” the halfling asked.
“Wish I knew. I think he’s speaking Umbrian but the accent is very thick. Jack and Quinn seem to understand him, so it’s probably a dwarf thing.”
Jack glared at the mage. “We’re standin right here, y’know,” he growled. “This here’s Fred, wants ta join the group. I say we let ‘im.” Jack stepped back and glowered at the scholar.
Artimas waved his arms in a non-committal manner. “Suits me fine if no one else objects.” No one else did, and Fredegar was added to the ranks of the companions.
*****
The next day at breakfast the companions were gathered around the largest table in the Foaming Mug when a female halfling strolled into the inn. She was dressed in traveling leathers and wore a long dagger on her belt, but otherwise she appeared to be a dainty and pretty little thing.
She approached the bar and spoke quietly with Ned for several minutes, then scanned the rest of the room and seemed to notice the companions for the first time, her eyes coming to rest on Welby. The barbarian was currently seated in front of an enormous mound of pancakes that he was trying to shovel down his throat as fast as possible. Smiling, she nodded and skipped lightly over to stand beside him, waiting for him to come up for air and then sticking her hand in front of his face.
“Hi! I’m Anemone, and its nice to meet you, good looking. I just got here from Ravensdale, stupid Crusaders chased me outta town, but hey! At least I got away, right?” She paused and waited but none of the party members acknowledged her presence, particularly the bald halfling, who stared at the hand in his face (and between him and his plate of food) with an expression of mingled bemusement and mounting anger.
Anemone shrugged and continued, “So, any of you come from Ravensdale, too? Terrible what’s happening there, just awful. Used to be such a fun town, but now its just dull.
“Say, that looks good. Mind if I share with you, big guy?” the pretty halfling asked teasingly and reached towards Welby’s plate.
The effect on the warrior was frightening. As her hand approached his meal a low feral growl erupted from his throat, freezing Anemone in her tracks. She stared at Welby uncertainly, perhaps expecting him to be joking, but he growled again and grabbed his axe in a white-knuckled grip.
“Don’t touch food,” he managed to voice around his mounting rage.
She stepped back, alarm showing in her large hazel eyes. “But I... I didn’t mean...”
“Don’t touch food! My food!” Welby shouted, standing and raising his axe. His body was held taut with tension and his small muscles stood out like knotted cords of rope.
The female continued to shuffle away from him, the fear growing on her features. “You big bully, how could you? I have friends to you know, and when they get to town you’ll be sorry, you will. They’ll teach you how to treat a lady.” She spit out the last few words and spun on her heels, racing for the open door and disappearing into the daylight.
The Crow could contain himself no longer and started laughing uproariously, upsetting his beer. “Haha, now that’ll teach her! Never come between Welby and a meal!”
The companions shared a hearty laugh over the incident, Welby calm again now that his plate wasn’t being threatened. When they had all finished they rose and went upstairs to pack their supplies. By midday they were on their way back to Duernfast, looking forward to the adventures that lay ahead.
DragonOfIntellect
First Post
This is a very, very good story. Please continue, if at all possible.
Sniktch
First Post
Flattery will get you everywhere, DragonofIntellect - and thank you for digging this old thread up! 
It certainly is possible to continue, though I can't promise anything resembling regular updates, especially with two other Story Hours to work on. But I'll set a goal of trying to move forward at least one update a month at the very minimum.
Seeing this thread on the first page again gave me a little inspiration, and I typed up a post to get it moving again. I've basically glossed over the return trip to the mines, as looking at my notes the fights were fairly repetitive encounters with rats, spiders, scorpions, and darkmantles. I certainly don't recall this being a very exciting leg of the adventure, and not very profitable either, though Welby did find a magic backpack on an old corpse buried beneath some rubble. Anyway, without further delay, here's what happened next:
*****
They descended the broad steps they had found before and entered the cursed mines of Duernfast. The large entry chamber had not been disturbed by man or dwarf in many long years, and was strewn with aging carts and wheelbarrows, rusting mining equipment, and broken rock from the crumbling walls. Three open tunnels, roughly hewn from the rock, led out of the area and into the mines. Jack entered the area carefully, motioning for the others to hold back as his eyes scanned the stonework. Finally, he nodded, satisfied; despite the years of neglect, the room was not in danger of immediate collapse. He waved the others to enter, turning to them with a smug grin.
"Now that's dwarven workmanship for ya," he stated, planting his hands on his hips. But he saw Welby's eyes grow wide with alarm and turned just in time to see several scorpions grown to more than a foot in size scuttling from beneath the debris and skittering across the floor in their direction.
The battle was brief and one-sided. The adventurers outnumbered the insects and worked in pairs to kill them as they came in - one concentrating on keeping the poisonous stingers at bay while the other focused on finishing the beast.
"Well, that was simple," Jack grunted, cleaning the ichor from his blade.
"Let us hope that is the worst we have to face in the mines. Though I fear far worse than vermin lurks in the darkness," predicted Artemis.
"Which way?" Welby stamped his feet, impatient to get on with the exploration.
"Reckon any's as good as t'other," Jack pointed to the western most tunnel, the closest to where they stood, and they filed through the chamber to the exit. The tunnels were all rough, unfinished, but generally had smooth floors that were at least wide enough to allow an orecart passage. Artemis' fears proved unfounded however, as the mines proved to be inhabited primarily by rats, bats, more vermin, and small scavengers that were wary of attacking such a large group. In less than an hour, they had explored the current level and stood in a small room containing a shaft that led deeper into the mines.
The shaft had been sealed with a sturdy iron grate, silver runes engraved into every inch of the thick bars. A deathly chill emanated from the opening. The companions gathered around the hole and peered through at the room below. The Crow lit a torch and tossed it down, illuminating another small chamber with several tunnels branching out into the darkness. There was movement at one of the openings; the cold grew stronger and more intense, the torch sputtered and died, and a thing of darkness inched into the room, standing out as a patch of black purer than the unlit depths, paralyzing the onlookers with terror.
There was a hiss as Artimas inhaled sharply. "Arawn preserve us," he breathed.
"What in the name of Dumathoin is that thing?" asked Quinn.
"The Course o' the Moines - Oi ne'er b'leev'd," wailed Fredegar. "Flee!"
But fear held them, and their legs seemed frozen to the floor. Then the thing reached up and pressed against the grate - the silver runes flared to life, shining light through the chamber, a terrible cry erupted from the monster, and the companions were suddenly in control of their limbs again, running and stumbling headlong to the mine entrance, up the stairs, not stopping until they had exited Duernfast again, where they collapsed gasping into the grass and lay until the terror subsided.
*****
An unpleasant surprise awaited them upon their return to Travensburg. A sizeable group of men-at-arms stood in the Foaming Mug, engaged in animated conversation with an agitated Ned Nebbly. As the group stumbled wearily into the bar, a pixie-like voice exclaimed, "There, thats them! The ones that threatened me!"
It was the halfling girl Anemone. The men turned, revealing tabards emblazoned with crimson and gold crosses. Ike gasped; the Crusaders had arrived in Travensburg.
Next: Bar fight!
It certainly is possible to continue, though I can't promise anything resembling regular updates, especially with two other Story Hours to work on. But I'll set a goal of trying to move forward at least one update a month at the very minimum.Seeing this thread on the first page again gave me a little inspiration, and I typed up a post to get it moving again. I've basically glossed over the return trip to the mines, as looking at my notes the fights were fairly repetitive encounters with rats, spiders, scorpions, and darkmantles. I certainly don't recall this being a very exciting leg of the adventure, and not very profitable either, though Welby did find a magic backpack on an old corpse buried beneath some rubble. Anyway, without further delay, here's what happened next:
*****
They descended the broad steps they had found before and entered the cursed mines of Duernfast. The large entry chamber had not been disturbed by man or dwarf in many long years, and was strewn with aging carts and wheelbarrows, rusting mining equipment, and broken rock from the crumbling walls. Three open tunnels, roughly hewn from the rock, led out of the area and into the mines. Jack entered the area carefully, motioning for the others to hold back as his eyes scanned the stonework. Finally, he nodded, satisfied; despite the years of neglect, the room was not in danger of immediate collapse. He waved the others to enter, turning to them with a smug grin.
"Now that's dwarven workmanship for ya," he stated, planting his hands on his hips. But he saw Welby's eyes grow wide with alarm and turned just in time to see several scorpions grown to more than a foot in size scuttling from beneath the debris and skittering across the floor in their direction.
The battle was brief and one-sided. The adventurers outnumbered the insects and worked in pairs to kill them as they came in - one concentrating on keeping the poisonous stingers at bay while the other focused on finishing the beast.
"Well, that was simple," Jack grunted, cleaning the ichor from his blade.
"Let us hope that is the worst we have to face in the mines. Though I fear far worse than vermin lurks in the darkness," predicted Artemis.
"Which way?" Welby stamped his feet, impatient to get on with the exploration.
"Reckon any's as good as t'other," Jack pointed to the western most tunnel, the closest to where they stood, and they filed through the chamber to the exit. The tunnels were all rough, unfinished, but generally had smooth floors that were at least wide enough to allow an orecart passage. Artemis' fears proved unfounded however, as the mines proved to be inhabited primarily by rats, bats, more vermin, and small scavengers that were wary of attacking such a large group. In less than an hour, they had explored the current level and stood in a small room containing a shaft that led deeper into the mines.
The shaft had been sealed with a sturdy iron grate, silver runes engraved into every inch of the thick bars. A deathly chill emanated from the opening. The companions gathered around the hole and peered through at the room below. The Crow lit a torch and tossed it down, illuminating another small chamber with several tunnels branching out into the darkness. There was movement at one of the openings; the cold grew stronger and more intense, the torch sputtered and died, and a thing of darkness inched into the room, standing out as a patch of black purer than the unlit depths, paralyzing the onlookers with terror.
There was a hiss as Artimas inhaled sharply. "Arawn preserve us," he breathed.
"What in the name of Dumathoin is that thing?" asked Quinn.
"The Course o' the Moines - Oi ne'er b'leev'd," wailed Fredegar. "Flee!"
But fear held them, and their legs seemed frozen to the floor. Then the thing reached up and pressed against the grate - the silver runes flared to life, shining light through the chamber, a terrible cry erupted from the monster, and the companions were suddenly in control of their limbs again, running and stumbling headlong to the mine entrance, up the stairs, not stopping until they had exited Duernfast again, where they collapsed gasping into the grass and lay until the terror subsided.
*****
An unpleasant surprise awaited them upon their return to Travensburg. A sizeable group of men-at-arms stood in the Foaming Mug, engaged in animated conversation with an agitated Ned Nebbly. As the group stumbled wearily into the bar, a pixie-like voice exclaimed, "There, thats them! The ones that threatened me!"
It was the halfling girl Anemone. The men turned, revealing tabards emblazoned with crimson and gold crosses. Ike gasped; the Crusaders had arrived in Travensburg.
Next: Bar fight!
DragonOfIntellect
First Post
Well, I am glad you still have more of this story to tell. The writing is excellent, and the characters are fascinating. So far Ike and Jack are my favorites. By the way, I was meaning to ask, if the dogma of Arawn is correct, and souls of the departed are not affected by necromantic spells, why would those spells still have the [Evil] tag in the game?
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