[Story Hour Sampler] Post Your Favorite Story Hour Installment

[Capellan]

You know all those story hours that covered the Adventure Path? This is their red-headed step-child ...

X-PATH: Stick Your Citadel Where the Sun Don't Shine

(I picked this because it's the first post and if it doesn't get you interested, nothing will And this story hour is short, and complete, so there's nothing to lose from reading it, except possibly your bladder control)

Prologue
Jacobsen shivered.

He tried to tell himself it was the cold. This far down in the basement levels, the only heat came from the bare fluorescent lights in the concrete ceiling. The General preferred it like that. But then the old bastard didn't feel it any more, did he?

The General. Like it or not, there was the real reason for the shiver. He was not going to be pleased with the younger man's news.

Jacobsen hurried along the plain, white-washed corridor, the scuff of his patent leather soles sounding loud in the silence of Basement 7.

The huge, stainless steel door at the end of the corridor swung open as he approached it. He swallowed, trying not to let his anxiety show in his face. Straight in with no wait meant the General was impatient.

The room beyond the door was almost as bare as the corridor that preceded it. The only item of furniture was the vast, stainless steel desk, its surface studded with dozens of video screens. Every screen flickered with life, all 37 channels of GPE programming playing simultaneously.

Jacobsen hated that desk. The constant flicker of images drew the eye, distracted the mind. The old man knew it, and used it. Another weapon in his arsenal.

"Jacobsen. What do you have to report?"

As if the old man didn't already know.

"There's a problem with the prize for next month's WCX pay-per-view, GS." He took a little pride that he'd kept the tremor out of his voice.

"Yes, so you told me in your last visit." There was a soft whir of gears as the old man descended from the ceiling. He sat in a cast iron chair - he'd owned it during the war, they said - his gnarled, bone-white hands clutching the arm rests. Jacobsen had never seen the old man lift those hands, but he'd heard the stories. "You said the matter was 'under control'."

He swallowed.

"I thought it was. The team of negotiators has never failed me, before."

"Never send a diplomat to do a soldier's job. That was Eisenhower's problem: he kept trying to be one when he should have been the other."

"Yessir." Despite the cold, Jacobsen could feel himself sweating. "But we've had a good working relationship with this tribe for several years, now. I thought that negotiation -"

"We had a good working relationship with Joe Stalin, too." The old man spat the name, "Didn't change the fact that he was a son-of-a-bitch."

"No sir." The first thing you learned at GPE: never argue about the reds. Not that Jacobsen had any intention of doing so, "He was a commie bastard, sir."

"Don't patronise me, Jacobsen." The voice turned cold, "Not when you've come lookin' for me to pull your stones out of the fire."

"Yessir. You have a suggestion, sir?"

"Seems to me like this tribe of yours needs to be a taught a lesson. The kind of lesson that ass Montgomery learned at Arnhem. Don't get greedy."

"Yessir."

"WCX players have to abide by certain rules. Sometimes, an athlete comes along who has all the skills to go to the top, but who can't stick to those rules."

"Sir?"

"I'm sure you have a few people like that on your books, Jacobsen. People who are a danger to themselves and their fellow athletes. People who are a drain on our profits. People who are expendable."

"Yes, sir. I can think of a few."

"Kit them out, open a gate, and send them through. Tell 'em to teach these little bastards a lesson they'll never forget. And tell them to bring back that - what is it they're supposed to get?"

"A golden apple, sir. It has magical healing qualities."

The old man snorted,

"Stupidest thing I've heard since Market Garden. Tell them to bring back that apple. And Jacobsen -"

"Yessir?"

"Send a camera. We may not be able to broadcast this, but I want to know exactly what happens."

"Yes sir, I will sir."

"You'd better. Because if you don't teach those freaky little bastards that nobody messes with George Patton, then I might have to teach you."

 

[Enkhidu]

Capellan is right. Go read any of the story hours centering on the Sunless Citadel.

Go ahead. I'll wait.

Now go and read Capellan's version. You won't be disappointed.

 

[spyscribe]

My story hour is "Welcome to the Halmae" and I would like to apologize now to anyone who has ever clicked on it hoping for something in the Buffyverse.

At this point in the story: the party is a group of third-level adventurers and have just (for the first time in their collective careers) found themselves in the middle of a tavern brawl. It's over now, and the update opens with the accounts of everyone else in the bar telling the local law enforcement officers what happened. For the record, the story Anvil gives to Steadfast is completely true.

I chose update because frankly, I loved writing Steadfast. Plus, it was one of those great times when nearly every PC had something fun to do. This update is a bit longer than I usually go, but there was no good place to cut it. Link is in my sig.

****************

Part the Forty-Fourth
In which: an irresistible force meets an immovable object.

“I’ve never seen them in town before.”

“—Been asking questions all over the place.”

“Said they were looking for a guide.”

“She was the one who was cheating, Officer. We were just having our usual friendly game.”

“He cast something. Then, all of a sudden I’m hitting this guy. I didn’t want to, I just couldn’t help myself.”

“That little freak called me stupid! And then he tried to kill me.”

“I was just trying to keep things from getting out of hand.”

“There were two other women with them, but they both split soon as the fight started.”

Steadfast the Just strokes his beard as he surveys the riff-raff in the Thirsty Watchmen. Another brawl. The second tonight, in fact. There are days when Steadfast is tempted to shut-down the taverns, in Kettenek’s name, the better to preserve the tranquility of Noran. But no, his superiors insist such an act would only incite more violence. And he must admit that it is not Just to punish those guilty of no wrongdoing for the misdeeds of a few unsavory elements. Unsavory elements against whom Justice must now be meted out.

After questioning the tavern staff and regular customers, Steadfast has a pretty good idea what happened. He turns to deal with the miscreants directly, but first, he speaks to one of the members of the Watch who first arrived to subdue the scene.

“Two of the possible instigators have fled. Track them down.”

With a quick nod, the man leaves, and Steadfast turns to the six travelers gathered in one corner of the room. Clearly a suspicious lot. He will hear their side of the story, and pass his judgment. Kettenek’s Justice demands no less.

**********

Meanwhile, outside the tavern Lira and Eva try to come up with a plan of action.

“The guard just seems to be waiting there.”

Hey, Boss?

“How much longer do you want to wait?”

Boss?

“If they’ve been arrested we should find out where they’re going to be taken—”

Boss!

What? Lira finally turns her attention to her familiar.

You ah… wanna get out of sight, maybe?

I am out of— Oh… Ehkt’s balls!

As Lira realizes she was not as hidden as she had thought, she also realizes that the guard by the door has been joined by two other members of the Watch, who are now making their way towards the alley where she and Eva are waiting.

Eva reaches for a concealed dagger in her cloak. She didn’t mention she was carrying it to the guards at the gate, and so they didn’t ask to peace-bond it. “Should we run?”

“You run. They already know I’m here.”

Eva quirks an eyebrow. “You sure?”

“Go!”

Eva takes to her heels as quickly and quietly as she can. Lira (and Euro) turn to face the approaching watchmen.

You got a plan, Boss?

Of course I have a plan.

And as the first Watchman comes around the corner, Lira takes a deep breath… and screams.

###

“I am Anvil the Just, of Dar Pykos.” Anvil informs the local Justicar who has arrived on the scene.

“I am Steadfast the Just, of Noran,” he replies, sizing up the foreigner.

“It is good that you have come here to restore order and lawfulness,” Anvil states.

Steadfast tries to determine if the other man is mocking him. It is true not all members of his order are as… serious… as he. Still, there does not seem to be any sarcasm in the other man’s manner. “I am glad you approve of lawfulness. There are those here who believe you to be the cause of its breech.”

Anvil’s reply is flat and immediate: “They are mistaken.”

“That is what I am here to determine.”

Behind Anvil’s back, Thatch notices Moira trying to catch his eye. He looks over to see the bard mouthing, “Oh my.”

###

Outside the in alley, Antonio the watchman tries to reason with the seemingly hysterical girl before him.

“It’s okay,” he tells her, hands up in what he hopes is a non-threatening pose. “It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you. I just need you to calm down alright?”

The girl, although hyperventilating slightly, does stop screaming. “What do you want?”

“I’m with the Watch—”

“I didn’t do anything wrong!”

Antonio takes a deep breath. He really hopes that she doesn’t start screaming again. “I’m sure you didn’t. But there was a fight in the tavern, and the Justicar is going to need to ask you a few questions.”

“Why?”

“Well, you’re a witness. And there was a woman who ran away before we got here. Did you see her?”

“See who?”

Antonio keeps himself from groaning, barely. “Why don’t you just come inside for a bit with me, okay?”

She gives him an uncertain look. “I don’t want to go back in there.”

“The fight’s over. It’s safe.” He extends a hand. Reluctantly, the girl comes over and allows herself to be led inside. Antonio lets out a silent sigh. This is going to be a long night. He can tell. Still, if he has to baby-sit a dim bystander, at least she’s cute.

###

Steadfast listens, skeptically, to the party’s story. It’s original, he’ll give them that. But credible? Hardly. Kings and wizards and vast conspiracies of magic-haters? Perhaps a Justicar in Dar Pykos would buy such swill. Maybe a Justicar didn’t and that is why this motley band is now on the run. But Steadfast the Just is no fool to be swayed from Kettenek’s will by such transparent lies. And those who come to spread their unlawful ways to his city, live to regret it.

The thought occurs, that resolving this case might be just the break he needs to get his promotion to Third Order. Then, at last, he might finally be allowed off of market duty… With an act of will, Steadfast returns his full attention to the task at hand.

“I suppose you have proof of this vital mission you are on?”

“Certainly,” Anvil replies, and he reaches for the staff which contains his letters of introduction from the King and Temples of Dar Pykos.

However, before he can bring them out, a member of the Watch comes over and taps Steadfast on the arm. Reyu listens closely as he whispers in the Justicar’s ear. “….found one of the women, just outside… Doesn’t look dangerous, but she’s got a set of lungs on her.”

Across the room, by the bar, Reyu sees Lira being brought in, guided by a Watchman who keeps a heavy hand on her shoulder. She’s either very nervous or putting on a good show of it. There’s no sign of Eva.

###

Eva runs as quickly and silently as possible through the alleys of Noran, but she can’t seem to shake her pursuers. The city is laid out in a straightforward pattern, but that doesn’t overcome the fact that the Watchmen simply know how to get around better than she does.

She sees a pile of discarded crates behind a building that might allow her to get up on the roof-tops, but she doesn’t think she has enough lead time to get up before someone comes down the alley after her, and once on the roof, there’s no cover to speak of.

She ducks behind the pile. There are ale casks, old straw, and produce crates… Must be another tavern… Eva curses her own stupidity. She’s standing at the back door of some kind of inn or tavern, with any luck, one filled with people. If the Watch doesn’t have a good description of who they’re looking for, getting lost in a crowd is probably her best shot of escape. As quickly as she comes up with the plan, Eva slips through the door at her back, and in a few moments, hears running feet passing through the alley behind her.

###

Steadfast questions the red-haired girl from the alley.

“What’s your name?”

“Lira.”

“Just Lira?”

“Yes.”

“Why did you run out of the tavern?”

The girl stares at him just a little incredulously. “There was a big fight going on. I got scared, and my friends told me I should leave.”

“And what scared you so much that you just had to leave right then?”

She gestures to her 98-lb frame. “If you were me, would you stand around in the middle of a bar fight? Besides,” Lira lowers her voice a bit, “these big guys had been giving me looks all evening; it was creepy. I just wanted to get out of there.”

“Who are these ‘friends’ you came in with?”

Lira indicates the six strangers across the room. Just as I suspected, Steadfast thinks. Clearly there’s more going on here than these strangers would have me believe… Aloud he asks, “Couldn’t they protect you?”

“They were busy enough trying to keep things under control without worrying about me.”

“If you’re so delicate, why do they travel with you?”

A pause. “I have other talents.”

“I see.”

Steadfast leaves her by the bar and returns to consult with the watch. Evasive and impudent. Well, it would all be dealt with soon enough. He finds the head Watchman, and takes him just outside for a consultation.

“Have you found the other one?”

“Not yet. Our men have a good description, though. Your orders?”

“Kettenek’s Justice demands she be found. Keep looking for her. Take the seven travelers into custody at the Temple of Justice. Tell everyone else to go home for the evening, but the barman can reopen in an hour or so.”

The man salutes smartly. “Yes, Justicar.”

###

The tavern isn’t particularly crowded, but it isn’t empty either. It is also, Eva notes gratefully, quite dimly lit. She slips into a table near the back with a good view of the door, getting a glance or two from some men playing cards in a corner, but none of them come over.

Although Eva’s posture is a comfortable slouch, its takes an effort of will to get her heart rate down to something approaching normal. Luckily, it’s a skill that Eva has some practice with. She’s just trying to work out her next move when two members of the Watch come in the front door.

One of them goes over to talk to the men playing cards. They exchange a few words she can’t make out, and then one of the players nods in her direction.

Eva is about to bolt when—

“Something to drink, ma’am?”

The kitchen scutt is at her elbow.

“No, thank you.”

Eva rises and takes a step towards the back door when a hand suddenly wraps around her upper arm. “Going somewhere?”

###

Thatch stares at the featureless stone wall in front of him, then glances around at his equally subdued companions. “Umm... Slavery isn’t legal in Noran, is it?”

 

[Americano]

Meepo's Journal, part 10: The Standing Stone

The New Adventures of Meepo: Meepo's Journal
Yes, it's another story hour following the adventures of everyone's favorite kobold, Meepo. This one is told entirely from Meepo's perspective, in the form of a journal he keeps after one of the PCs in my grounp taught him to read and write. Download the PDF linked above if you want, it has text formatting made to look like Meepo's writing.

PCs:
Daelewyn: Half-elf Rogue. Meepo calls her 'Sneaky Lady.'
Kah: Half-orc Barbarian. Meepo calls him 'Big Orc.'
Lady Everlove: Elf Cleric. Meepo calls her 'Pretty Elf Lady.'
Derrida: Elf Wizard. Meepo calls him 'Magic Elf Boss.'
Torrell: Half-elf Ranger. Meepo calls him 'Man-elf with Sword.'

Some credits: I owe Samnell's Meepo's Story Hour a debt for much of Meepo's writing style, as well as Wizardru's Savage Sword of Meepo. And probably others that I'm forgetting also.

Meepo's Journal, part 10
Meepo no write for many sleeps. Master Rolwin make Meepo practice writing letters for many many sleeps. Says Meepo need write better be bard. Also learns about differnt words. Human words very strange. Many words must change for no reason. No be like kobold words. Meepo write so much hands feel like they die. Master Rolwin say Meepo get better so Meepo happy. Friends leaving soon so Meepo go shopping in town. Meepo has many many golds from fighting magic kobold. Magic Elf Boss gives golds and armor and new pretty crossbow to Meepo. Meepo no can carry so many golds. Pretty Elf Lady takes cloak Meepo Wants but Meepo die much if no for Pretty Elf Lady so Meepo no mind. Meepo buy very very pretty neW mandolin. Also buy more ink for Meepo Writes storys. Meepo no want run out of ink away town. No one write friend storys if Meepo no ink. Meepo finds man in allee Who sell many many tasty dead rats in bag. Meepo throw away old food now since finds tasty rats. Meepo also buy new clothes. Meepo new clothes green and ornge and red. Very very pretty. Meepo hope peoples like him more now.

Meepo trying new thing Master Rolwin teach him call paragraf. Master Rolwin say Meepo skip space after writes some. Human writes be strange. Meepo and friends ride away from city. Meepo say goodbye to Master Rolwin. Meepo sad leave Master Rolwin. How Meepo learns more now? Meepo ask Magic Elf teach. Rides for six sleeps threw forest. Forest make nice to Meepo. Trees block light from nasty sun. Meepo eyes only hurts small in forest. Meepo very bored riding so practice playing mandolin and shooting crossbow at trees. Meepo almost fall off pony when hear scream. Old man runs at friends say help help save us. Big Man on Horse ride up at kill old man with big sword. Meepo shoot crossbow at Big Man on Horse but arrow go threw him. Big Man on Horse be ghost? Meepo sing songs so friends fights more good. Friends try fight Big Man on Horse but he ride aWay and disappeer. Meepo no know how.

Rides more finds human house. Knocks on door old man let friends in. Also be Pretty Red Lady in house. Old man talk about Big Man on Horse and elfs attaksing toWn. Meepo try write notes but spill ink. Meepo move plant cover ink on floor. Old man say friends sleep in house. Pretty Red Lady and Sneaky Lady talk lots go in room with bed talks all night. Sneaky Lady smile lot after talk Pretty Red Lady.

Rides to town. Many many humans comes wants food. Meepo gives rat to human hatchling. Old Furry Man talks talks talks about Big Man on Horse and elfs and fights and food. Maybe other stuff. Meepo get bored no listen. Arrow comes threw him. Meepo wonder how Old Furry Man do that but then he dead. Birds attaks. Birds shoot arrow? Meepo no know how bird use bow. Gos to tall house. Talks Old Magic Man and SWord Lady. Old Magic Man talk lots but Meepo no know what meen. Magic Elf talks Old Magic Man. Sword Lady show sword to Man-elf with Sword.

Rides to big round hill. Go in door to maze. Fights many Ugly Dead Mans. Roof fall on Sneaky Lady but no die. Meepo lost in maze. Meepo hope friends know Where go. Down stairs finds dead human bed. Old Dead Human fights Big Orc. Old Dead Human beat Big Orc like young kobold from Wrong tribe. No kill Big Orc. Old Dead Human say you honorabbl so me no kill. Old Dead Human talk about dragons and druids. Meepo like storys about dragons. Old Dead Human say no be Big Man on Horse. Man-elf With SWord say Old Dead Human give me sWord. Old Dead Human laugh. Friends tired so sleeps by dead human bed. Meepo no tired talks Old Dead Human. Meepo ask Old Dead Human tell more dragon storys.

Meepo learns lots in forest and town and dead human place. Meepo climb tree lots learn how. Meepo also think maybe Meepo do more bard magics now. Meepo try new magics after sleeps. Meepo maybe try do spell Magic Elf call summon useless owl. Meepo make nice to useless owl. Meepo being bard is funs! Meepo write more when happens.

--

Download the PDF version here.

 

[Lazybones]

The Shackled City is a story set in the Adventure Path series of modules in Dungeon magazine. It's a fictional SH based on 3.5e mechanics, and traces the adventures of a small group of heroes of unusual and diverse backgrounds, brought together in the struggle to preserve the city of Cauldron against a growing evil.

The cast:
Zenna, tiefling wizard/cleric
Mole, gnome rogue
Arun, gold dwarf paladin
Hodge, shield dwarf fighter/expert (cohort)
Dannel, moon elf bard/ranger

This excerpt is from Book 3, Zenith Trajectory, when the heroes have been trapped in a side room by a black dragon. Zenna's just been restored to consciousness, and the others are filling her in on what happened while she was out.

Chapter 124

“Well, I know you managed to overcome it, somehow, or we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” Zenna observed.

“Sheesh, will you let me finish the story?” Mole said, returning to her narrative.

* * * * *

Its hide was as black as night, its head angular and malicious, with twin horns jutting from its forehead and jaws lined liberally with razor-sharp teeth. Its head swiveled back and forth as it scanned the chamber for its enemies, but they missed Mole, who had darted reflexively into the shadows where the wall met the floor, the dragon’s field of view partially blocked by the opening of the door. The dragon did catch sight of Arun and Hodge, however, and opened its jaws in an angry roar.

Before it could move more fully into the chamber, however, Mole, using her magical boots to cast her into the air in a broad leap, sprang up from behind the door, her sword slicing upward in a fast arc that caught the dragon off guard. In the instant that the gnome sprang past, the dragon’s neck jerked up, revealing a shallow but nonetheless bleeding gash a foot beneath the base of its skull.

The dragon had immediately turned toward the gnome, who landed with a splash and tumbled forward. For a terrible instant Mole looked upon the full rage of the creature, and saw death glistening in the ebon orbs of its eyes. But then it was knocked to the side as Arun impacted the door, thrusting it closed. The dragon, caught off guard, with only its head and neck thrust through the door, was at first caught off balance, and it drew reflexively back, its head clearing the door a moment before it slammed shut hard. Hodge, sending a plume of water up around him with every splashing step, arrived with a spike that Arun slammed into the doorjam with a quick blow from his hammer. The door thrummed with the impact of the dragon a moment later, and the spike slipped out half its length as the door trembled. But both dwarves hurled themselves against the narrow portal, setting another spike and driving the first one back into place. The door continued to pound, for the better part of a minute, but held, the inexorable equation of leverage versus force working out in favor of the companions. A fizzing spray of angry green droplets emerged from under the thin crack at the base of the door, acid that sizzled and bubbled as it hit the water, but the construction of the door in its heavy stone threshold meant that the dragon’s breath could not reach the spikes set into the jam on this side.

“And thus we reached a stalemate,” Mole said, concluding her account of the battle. “We reinforced both doors with everything we had, but there haven’t been any more attempts to force entry that we can detect. It’s still out there, though, waiting for us... or at least it was a few hours ago.”

“How do you know that?” Zenna asked.

“I used that potion we found, remember? In the ruins where we battled Triel Eldurast, under Cauldron. It gives the power of seeing things over a distance. It worked great, but that dragon was still sitting out there on one of the higher balconies, watching. I think it sensed me watching it, for it stirred and made an awful roar—the kind that doesn’t sound like it was very pleased with the situation, or planning on leaving anytime soon.”

“At least there haven’t been any more kuo-toa,” Zenna said. She tried to walk, and was able to manage a few steps before she reached the edge of a great stone basin set into the center of the floor. It offered a welcome respite. The basin was filled with several feet of water, and as she stared into it, the blue light of the magical flame glistening off its surface, she felt as though she could just sink into it, all of her problems falling away...

“Zenna!”

Dannel’s voice of concern shook her out of her reverie, and she straightened, drawing away from the elf’s reassuring hands. She wanted to lose herself in his embrace, but knew that if she let her guard down, even for a moment, she would collapse.

She turned to where the others had laid her pack, against the wall. Grateful that she was able to make it without falling, she knelt and undid the clasps, revealing her spellbook—carefully wrapped in oilcloth—nestled inside.

“It’s gonna be tough,” Hodge growled. “Betsy’s out there in the water somewheres, the elf ain’t go no more arrows, and half our knives are stuck in them doors.”

Zenna looked up at her friends. They were all beaten down, ragged and exhausted. She remembered that she hadn’t eaten in over a day, and her stomach rumbled. It was almost comical, through the haze of pain and stiffness that suffused her body. But there was no choice, except to give up, and that was no choice at all.

She reached up to her throat, to the symbol that hung there around her neck, her finger tracing the one cut there in silver. “I need some time,” she told the others. “Then we’ll have to see about that dragon.”


Links to the story are in my sig.

 

[el-remmen]

It's a fictional SH based on 3.5e mechanics,

So, no one actually played out the events of your story hour?

 

[pogre]

Let's start at the beginning. The pictures in the story are thumbnail linked to larger photos.

Zandyrium
Episode 01

Sweat poured down Micon’s face as he concentrated on the ritual. Two zombies stared forward with vacant, lifeless eyes at the wizard’s activities. This ritual would be Micon’s crowning glory, the attestation that he deserved recognition as the greatest of mages. The components had cost him nearly everything: physically, economically, and emotionally - but now it all seemed worth it. Carefully, ever so carefully, the mage traced the last of the symbols on the ground. Six days of constant preparation and attention to the tiniest detail had culminated in this moment. Micon was so close, and then, he stuttered. It was only a momentary lapse, but the mage stumbled over a chant as his concentration failed.

Micon, the rebel wizard, braced himself for the eldritch results of his misstep.

Nothing came.

Micon smirked slightly and exhaled in relief. He prepared to recommence the ritual, but a blinding bright light interrupted, rushing through his mind. Micon reeled around the chamber grabbing at pieces of furniture and tapestry, anything to help maintain his balance. Twirling and shrieking, Micon felt his mind being pulled to pieces and his soul tugged from a negative power. The mage was ensnared in some mad maelstrom and he cried out as he left the world of the living.

Micon awoke. He could not remember much. “What was I doing?” he wondered to himself. Any remembrances were immediately overtaken by an overwhelming hunger rushing over him. A hunger deeper and stronger than any desire he had ever experienced – a hunger for flesh! Micon only dimly understood what had happened and shook in rage at his failure.

*****

128 years later…

“Quit shoving!” Ginny complained to the Dwarf behind her.

“Get your feet moving then,” Mōrguhn countered. “My whiskers will give your backside a rash if you walk any slower.”



There was a smile on the Mōrguhn’s face, he really liked the young human female and she was quite right to be cautious down in these foul sewers. Mōrguhn reflected on how he had come to this spot. Mōrguhn had come to the crown city for an education in arts seldom explored in Buldarvalt. The dwarf wished to pursue the arcane arts and he had been practically laughed out of the Hold.

And so, now the young dwarf was traipsing through the sewers with this odd group…

“There is the source of the explosion,” Ginny whispered back.



Ginny inched her way forward and saw that a large blast had emanated from the sewer wall and the remnants of a human male was pinned beneath a pile of rubble. As the corpse was missing half its head, she safely assumed him to be dead.

“Something blowed ‘dis area up,” the human fighter, Thoren observed. Thoren wielded a huge two-handed sword that looked large even against his impressive frame.



“Nothing gets past you Thoren, old boy,” Wassabe the northern sailor quipped.



The elven ranger Githraldul jumped across the sewer’s effluent to gain a better vantage point over the blasted area.



Underground areas made the ranger very edgy. “What do you see?” he loudly whispered to Ginny.

“I suspect our dead friend here triggered an ancient trap,” Ginny reached down and pulled a pouch from the corpse’s belt. She then opened the pouch deftly and held some tiny tools aloft, “These would indicate he was a thief.”

“What are they?” Githraldul asked.

“Thieves’ tools, and a very nice set too,” Ginny answered sliding the tools and picks into her cape pocket.

It’s amazing, she looks nothing like a thief Githraldul thought.

Justinius the cleric of Gravitas Morte worked his way forward to gain a view of the corpse. Justinius leaned down and said final rites over the man’s body. “He has not been dead long. I suspect the blast we heard in the Greater Market was what killed him.”



The group had minutes before been prowling the markets looking for bargains when the blast had belched forth from the sewer grate. It was Mōrguhn who had agreed with the young vigils* that the group of adventure-seekers should check into what happened. A short trip in the sewer had led them to this scorched scene.

Heinrich, cleric to Siegphorus, looked over Justinius’s shoulder as the cleric of restful death finished a prayer to his deity over the deceased. “Technically,” Heinrich began, “you all realize we have more than fulfilled our civic duty here.”



“This man died trying to break into this place and has courteously set off a very dangerous guardian trap. The least we can do is check it out,” Ginny smiled.

“Agreed!” Thoren stated and boldly walked into the tunnel beyond the explosion.

“Will someone please tell the thug with the big sword where there is one trap there are bound to be more?” Wassabe asked sarcastically.

“I heard ye’” Thoren called back. “I’m waiting. Ginny get yer’ rearend up here!”

“First, I have not heard a consensus among the group,” Heinrich stated loftily. “Second, what about the authorities?”

“Who wants to explore a place formerly guarded by a powerful magical trap?” Ginny asked loudly.

Mōrguhn spoke up, “Heinrich, the structure is sound. You need not fear a secondary collapse.”

“That’s not the point,” Heinrich corrected the dwarf. “We were asked in the market to quickly check out what might have set off such an explosion. We have discovered the source.”

“Hold up Thoren,” Ginny called out. “I’m taking point. Heinrich you go tell the vigils* if you want. The rest of us are heading in.”

“Justinius?” Heinrich asked his fellow cleric.

“It could be,” Justinius paused, “interesting.”

“Oh, very well,” Heinrich said resignedly and followed the rest of the group into the passage.



Ginny called back to the group, “I think the passage is clear of traps. It opens up into some sort of chamber.” Thoren, the human fighter, was clanking along loudly behind Ginny. Ginny turned and said to Thoren, “Could you spare me some space here Thoren. It is really tough to move silently dragging a set of bottles behind me.” Thoren nodded and stopped, allowing Ginny to go forward a few more feet ahead. Ginny continued to edge ahead of the group and slipped into the small chamber. A moment later she came running back past the rest of the passage.

“What is it?” Thoren asked.

“I don’t know,” Ginny replied. “But I’ve done my job, now you do yours.”

Thoren squinted into the darkness and could barely make out a couple of figures. The bipedal creatures stood and Thoren called for them to stop. The fighter then noticed the creatures had wounds that should have killed them already, and the stench of their rotting flesh filled his nostrils.



Thoren, Mōrguhn, and Wassabe charged the undead creatures and managed a few solid shots. Justinius stepped forward. This was the cleric’s moment. Everything he had trained for led to a showdown with the greatest enemy of his deity Gravitas Morte. Undeath was the foulest sin of all and now he would send these cursed beasts away.

“In the name of the Final Rest I banish thee!” Justinius was practically screeching over the din of battle.

The Zombies fought on.

Heinrich also moved into the chamber and held aloft the holy symbol of Siegphorus and called out, “The God of Law and Victory demand your defeat!”

The Zombies fought on.

“Quit preachin’ and start whackin’!” Wassabe yelled at the clerics.

The elven ranger, Githraldul moved up and shot an arrow into one of the Zombies. This came just as one of the monsters managed to slightly wound Mōrguhn. Heinrich charged into the fray with his mace, following Wassabe’s advice.

“By all that is holy from the Father of Eternal Bliss I rebuke thee foul constructs of evil!” Justinius cried out again to turn the zombies.

The Zombies fought on.



Thoren managed to bring his blade down on one of the foes and it fell to the floor with no sign of movement left in it. Their efforts now concentrated on the final Zombie, Githraldul plunked an arrow into it, Mōrguhn and Wassabe also landed shots on it.

Justinius needed to try rebuking the walking corpse one more time; it was a matter of pride now. “Bring the peace of the True God of Lasting Rest upon this foul creature of undeath,” Justinius yelled.

The Zombie fought on.

“Powerful god ye’ got there father,” Wassabe stated as he dodged one of the Zombie’s attacks. Thoren’s blade hit home again and halted the last Zombie.

The group gasped, trying to catch their breath, as the rogue Ginny began looking the chamber over. “Not much here. Only this door they were guarding,” she reported to the group.

Heinrich stood slowly, “We can still go to the authorities. There is no reason for us to pursue this further.”

“Except, we have now come passed a magical explosion trap and two formerly dead guys guarding this very door,” Ginny answered.

“I must continue,” Justinius announced. “The presence of undead changes everything for me. It is no longer my choice, but my duty.”

“Yeah,” Wassabe interjected, “good thing too - we would sure hate to lose ye’, considering how helpful ye’ were in that last scrap, your holiness.”

“My failures do not reflect upon Gravitas Morte,” Justinius retorted.

“That’s a relief. I’d hate fer the old boy to be the laughing stock amongst the gods and all,” Wassabe replied.

Justinius merely shook his head. He doubted whether there was a serious thought in Wassabe’s head.

Ginny announced that the door was not trapped, and Thoren opened the door wide.

To be continued…

*vigils – city watch

 

[Lazybones]

So, no one actually played out the events of your story hour?

That is correct. Though a few of the characters are based on archetypes played by former players in past campaigns.

 

[Emperor Valerian]

Its rather hard for me to pick a good section out of my story hours as well. This is out of my most recent one that is still ongoing... The Celestial Empire .

Basic background: Nayu (PC), Felonca (PC), Liu and Chou are fleeing to the south to avoid of a bunch of undead... as well as searching for Nayu's parents, whose town was burned by the employer of Captain Li (their prisoner). Chaos and trouble ensues.


===============================================
Dire Need

“The bonds are quite tight... would it be possible to persuade you that they should be loosened?”

Nayu growled his disapproving reply towards Captain Li, the noise and the young man’s eyes conveying hatred deeper than the Western Sea. Even though they were three days from the desolation that was the remains of Red Lotus, Nayu could still smell on his clothes the twin stenches of burnt wood and rotting flesh. For two days the ex-Captain had been requesting the bonds holding his arms tightly behind his back be loosened, and for two days Nayu had glowered his fury. Today, the young man had enough, and reached into his pack.

“Nayu, what are you doing?” he heard Felonca’s worried voice as he pulled out a small bolt of cloth. Quickly, the same found itself wrapped around the Captain’s mouth. When muffled protests came, Nayu merely tightened it.

“Was that necessary?” Felonca asked, looking with pity towards the Captain and Nayu. A look then flashed towards Chou, riding just ahead of his father. The tall sergeant did not even look back, his eyes still holding the blank look of loss that had covered his mirth for the past week and a half.

“Very much so,” Nayu grumbled in reply as the troupe rounded a turn in the main highway. The road was narrow but relatively level, with a wide field of view all around, something that set them all at ease. The last thing any of them wanted was to be caught spending the night in a dark wood with undead running about.

Nayu’s eyes then gave a glare back to the Captain, the only symbol present of those he hated... the Military Governor, his soldiers that had burned Nayu’s home, and all the prefects who had tried to raise undead. It’s all their fault! If it wasn’t for them, I’d be at home right now!

His mind was so focused on the dark thought that he didn’t notice that his comrades had reined up until he realized he was quickly drawing away from the Captain. He spun around, heart in his throat and magic crawling on his lips, only to see up ahead a large cart, slightly to the side. A man was beside it, foul curses thundering from his mouth, many of the same curses that were threatening to come from Nayu’s mouth as well.

“Hello!” Felonca called.

“Move that thing!” Nayu called momentarily, galloping forward.

“I would, if my wheel wasn’t broke!” the peasant shouted back as Nayu cantered to a halt, quickly dismounting from his horse. The peasant momentarily gestured towards left front of his cart, where the wheel, indeed, had snapped after running over a rather large stone.

“Hmm,” Nayu groaned. He CAN’T move out of the way... maybe... “Liu? Chou? Can you run to the woods off thataway,” Nayu gestured vaguely to the copse of trees about a hundred yards off, “and fetch me some large sections of timber.” The trader/sorcerer then knelt down beside the wheel itself, his mind searching through memory.

Father said one of the most important things for a trader to know is how to fix a broken wheel... the axle is fine... good. Its just the rim and the lower spokes that are broken, and we have blades that can carve those... at least to the point this guy can get out of our way and get to a nearby town...



Felonca crouched beside Nayu, watching her friend as he stared intently at the broken wheel, wondering what was going on in his mind.

Poor thing... he’s been through so much... She breathed in deeply to give off a sigh, but suddenly her nose wrinkled, as a smell she wasn’t used to wafted into her sensitive nasal passages. The wrinkle quickly changed, as he eyes widened in alarm.

Blood! Fresh blood! her mind realized. As Nayu and the peasant both looked intently at the wheel, Nayu now explaining how it could be fixed, Felonca edged towards the back of the cart, and her eyes widened further.

The large cart’s cargo was covered by a cloth tarp, with fresh, brown stains speckled across its surface. She couldn’t tell what was under the tarp... beasts, or something far more sinister, as the smell of fresh blood flooded through her nose, overwhelming her mind. Gingerly, with a touch of revulsion, she reached for the cloth and began to slowly lift it...

Only to have it tugged out of her hands. Confused, she spun around to see the peasant behind her, setting his wide brim hat on the edge of the cart.

“Interested in these little things?” he asked, flipping the cloth up. Inside was a brace of the largest, strangest rabbits she had ever seen. They were easily the size of small dogs, and each had a large horn rising from its forehead.

“These things were tearing through my garden, and the other day they attacked my daughter when she threw a stone at one of them. So I culled them, and I’m taking them to market to see if they’re worth anything. Now, you want one or not?”

“Um... no... thank you,” Felonca managed to sputter out, embarrassed at her suspicion.



Four days later, when the party spotted another traveler on this desolate stretch of road, Felonca initially was hesitant to be suspicious again.

They’d spotted him at a great distance, due to the dust his steed was raising. She, like the others, assumed it was merely a courier of some kind as they dipped into a shallow gully, obscuring him from view. However, when the horse and rider suddenly appeared at the top of the shallow ridge ahead and reined to a hard stop, Felonca’s heart stopped as well.

The small creature was barely large enough to manage the big mare he sat astride. As soon as his small, dark eyes laid their gaze on her, his small squirrel ears gave a twitched, and he suddenly yanked hard on the reins, wheeling his horse around.

Memories flooded back into Felonca’s mind... of one day not long before, when she’d seen those same eyes flashing at her in anger. The eyes that made her doubt whether she belonged in a Military Academy, and prompted her to decide to run away.

What is Nixu doing here? He’s barely into his second year at the Academy... they wouldn’t let him leave the Academy grounds, let alone be this far south, nearly one hundred MILES from the Academy!

Did he run away too? Did... did Master Hsiu hurt him because I ran? The Academy’s master was known to be strict, but Nixu’s yelling at her incompetence was something far different than him helping her plan to escape. He had no way of knowing his tirade (one she admitted she rightfully deserved) would have anything to do with her escape, along with her warfans, Master Hsiu’s kimono, and his prized silver dagger.

“Nixu!” she called, even as the horse and rider disappeared behind the ridge, the thundering of hoofbeats already receding. With a growl, Felonca put her own spurs deep into the flanks of her mare, and thundered after him. As she topped the ridge and caught sight of him again, she heard the shouts of confusion from her friends receding as she pulled away.

I need to talk to him! I need to find out if Master Hsiu and the Academy know anything about these undead! I need to know why he is here! Will he report me to Master Hsiu?!

True, the last time she’d seen him, he was furious with her. The Floating Stone test was one of the hardest for newer students to finish, and she had completely ruined his carefully constructed creation, the Court Common character for “patience.” It had taken him hours upon hours of work, all ruined because of a prank.

Damn me, Felonca’s mind flew into instant regret, remembering his face, so upset he was nearly crying. I need to talk to him. To apologize!

“Nixu! Wait! Please!” she screamed at the top of her lungs, her mare straining onward under her as the figure of the squirrel hengeyokai and his mount grew smaller and smaller in the distance. For one last instance, he turned around, and she swore she could see a look of fear in his eyes before he turned around and his horse pulled away for good.

Why was he here? her confused mind asked as she finally reined up, hoofbeats rumbling closer signifying her comrades were finally catching up. She didn’t know it, but her face was full of confusion when she turned around, to see a worried Nayu canter up behind her.

“What was that all about?” he asked, looking between her and the distant figure that momentarily vanished.

“That... that was a friend,” she managed to say, her own eyes turning back to watchi Nixu disappear below the horizon. “I need to talk to him. I think... I think he’s in danger.”



The next night, Felonca was still wrapping her mind around that new development.

Why was he here? Is Master Hsiu nearby? She felt herself shudder slightly at the thought. If Master Hsiu indeed had come this far south to find her, she knew that the chances of her seeing a hangman’s noose were increasing by the day.

“Dammit,” she cursed softly, realizing her shudder had ruined her attempt at whittling to pass the time. She took second watch for the peace and quiet, but sometimes it grew too quiet, the only noise being the sounds of crickets and the light snores of her companions. Tonight she was especially bored, and had hoped some attempts at whittling would help. They hadn’t.

“Well, Felonca, you need a new stick,” she muttered to herself, and carefully she looked about the camp, hoping to find a stick outside of the pile reserved for the fire. Growling in dissatisfaction when she didn’t find any, she looked up over the blaze towards Nayu’s bag, hoping one would be there.

Instead, she froze.

Momentarily, in the gloom, she saw something. Something tall, human-shaped. She squinted, but the light of the fire blocked her view.

Nixu? she thought, eyes frowning as she reached for her warfans and clambered around the fire. Without its orange fingers blinding her view, she could now make it out clearly. Not one, but two figures, human-looking, were edging their way closer to the camp, carefully, from the side.

Not Nixu... then who?

“Who goes there?” she called, her challenge meant to wake her companions as well. She heard a few growls and grumbles from immediately beside her, but no noise came from the two strangers, save one turned and looked right at her.

More undead? she thought, warily edging closer, her nose sniffing the air for any scent. Indeed, she found one, but it was not the dank, rotten smell of death, or the bodily smell of a humanoid. Instead, she smelled something like wild mushrooms, powerful and pungent.

“Thirty feet out ahead of me, human shaped” Felonca whispered, “and I’m getting the smell of... mushrooms,” she added warily. She heard Nayu give a grunt of surprise at her statement, above the soft clings and clangs of Chou donning his armor.

“Mushrooms? Are you sure you didn’t eat too many mushrooms?” she heard Chou grumble.

“I’ve heard of dangerous molds before,” Nayu said, standing beside her half-dressed, “but none in the shape of a human before. Strange.”

“Well,” Felonca replied, suddenly reaching into her quiver for an arrow, “I’d like to make sure they’re human. I’m thinking its an undead trick. Fetch me a bit of cloth, we’re going to check them out.”

Nayu did as requested, and momentarily a small dart of flame landed directly at the feet of the closest. In the dim light the burning cloth provided, seemingly normal, bare human feet were visible, causing Nayu and Felonca more confusion. As they watched, both creatures continued to shuffle forward, and quickly were within thirty feet.

That’s when Felonca saw their eyes. Bright, piercing blue, a sickly, unreal blue, glowing in the night. Moments later, she had to resist the urge to sneeze violently, as her nose was assaulted by a new smell... not just mushrooms, but the overpowering, debilitating stench of mold. Just within the orange glow of the firelight, she could see the two gaunt figures of men, their skin pasty and emaciated. Most alarming were the numerous tears, rips, and holes that besot their skin. From these numerous sores fluffed large clumps of a yellowish colored substance that looked like mold.

She heard words forming on Nayu’s mouth, but she couldn’t see any magical flashes or lights play from his hands onto the beasts. Instead, she heard another grunt of confusion.

“They’re not undead, at least,” Nayu grunted, and she heard more magic coming to his lips.

“Don’t come any closer!” she called, deciding to be more direct, her bow once again drawn, an arrow notched. As soon as one of the creatures stepped forward again, an arrow flew.

An all hell broke loose.

One of the two creatures charged, a strange, incoherent roar within its lips. Felonca coolly tossed her bow back, and snatched out her warfans, the lessons from the Academy flowing through her muscles with ease. A series of loud clanks revealed Chou right beside her, as she didn’t need to turn to know Liu was on her opposite side.

“You take the close one!” she heard Nayu call, just before a long, powerful tongue of flame leapt from his hand, scorching the furthest of the two beasts (scorching ray).

As for the other creature, it found a greeting that likely it would have preferred to forego, as Chou’s blade, Felonca’s warfans, and Liu’s fists slashed, cut, and pummeled it, cutting off one hand, breaking its shoulder, and slashing apart its face.

None, however, realized that this is merely what the creature wanted.

The noise was simple. Nothing fancy, nothing showy. It was a mere puff, far quieter than the roar of the burning prefect. The results, however, were no less deadly, for with this noise, the stomach of the creature broke open, and suddenly Chou, Felonca, and Liu found yellowish mold flying into their faces, their eyes, their noses, down their throats.

Somehow, Liu managed to hold his breath, his fists still swinging, pummeling the creature. But both Chou and Felonca gasped in surprise... the worst thing possible, as thousands and thousands of the tiny spores were sucked deep into their lungs.

Felonca felt an immediate burning in her lungs, and doubled over, vicious, hacking coughs wracking her body. Beside her, Chou clutched the ground, spitting up globs of yellow spittle as his larger form was also wracked by the painful coughs.

What’s happened to me? Felonca thought, before her mind, despite the pain, realized that as long as she and Chou were down coughing, Liu and Nayu were facing two of the creatures alone.

Dammit, Felonca! she mentally snarled, forcing herself up after a few seconds. Her lungs felt as if they were scorched, and coughs still rumbled through her form, deep and hoarse. Nonetheless, she threw herself forward, slashing once again at the nearest beast.



What the hell was that? Nayu growled, his fingers now outstretched to the beast that had knocked down Felonca and Chou. With a word of power and a sharp crackle, flames once again leapt from his hand to the beast’s chest. The smell of burning vegetables filled the air, as smoke blotted out the creature’s chest. However, when it momentarily lifted, Nayu could see more mold oozing out of the burn holes covering the creature’s chest.

“Felonca! What are you...” he started to shout before Felonca, still hacking and coughing furiously, was back into combat, leaping and twisting, her warfans once again in the midst of a deadly dance. Only seconds behind her, Chou jumped in as well, the coughs that had wracked his body decreasing as he swung his blade in great, powerful arcs.

That girl... I could have accidentally burned her! Nayu fumed for a second, as his fingers flashed back to the creature still standing aloof, burning it yet again. A second later, he hears a squish, sounding much like when he’d squished his mother’s rotten tomatoes as a child. A quick look to the first fight revealed the creature tumbling to the ground, its head crushed by Chou’s blade.

Nayu felt the magic already draining from him. This new spell is taxing me, he thought, trying to focus his mind. He felt magic upwelling in his hand, until into his view flashed a furiously coughing Felonca and a normal appearing Chou. Nayu moved his hand back, and the blast of fiery power flew awry.

“Felonca,” he growled, reminding himself to let her know about, ‘magical friendly fire,’ if he got the chance. He closed his eyes, and decided next to launch a smaller, simple brace of magic missiles, to avoid the friendly fire issue altogether.

As he was yet concentrating for his next blast, long unmoving, suddenly leapt forward grabbing Felonca and thrust her towards the ground. Another puff echoed just barely above the din of battle, quickly followed by Felonca’s coughing increasing in volume and power.

FELONCA! Nayu panicked, his brace of missiles flying earlier than he planned but slamming the creature square in the back. As the creature and Felonca wrestled on the ground, Chou swung his blade down... and suddenly Felonca’s coughs were coupled with a sharp scream as his sword cut open her shoulder, blood now coating the grass.

Undeterred, Chou swung again, and once again there was a squish as his blade crushed in the creature’s head. Within seconds, he was tossing the beast off of her, as Nayu dashed forward.



It was an hour later, and still Nayu heard the deep, throaty cough coming from Felonca, as well as the hushed, worried murmurings coming from Master Liu. Angrily, the young man kicked a pebble into the smoldering fire, and resumed his pacing.

What WERE those things? Other than Chou’s accidental cut, Felonca wasn’t hurt... except for this coughing. What was that yellow mold stuff? Liu should’ve been able to get it out of her system...

Nervous, Nayu glanced towards Chou, only to be greeted by the warrior’s nervous eyes.

Chou is fine... and he inhaled the same stuff! Why isn’t she fine! Worries filled Nayu’s head, building into a crescendo that he couldn’t ignore. Finally, he spun around and marched over to beside the monk.

“Listen... listen to me, Felonca,” the monk was saying quietly, his voice full of concern. One of his hands held her head, pointing her mouth downwards. “What does your chest feel like again?”

“B...*hack* b... *cough* burning!” she sputtered out, pain etched onto her face. Nayu watched in alarm as one of her hands clutched at her chest, the other balled into a fist at her side. Worried, he took her balled hand into his own.

Of the people here, I’ve known you the longest... what... four weeks? You helped save my village! I’m... I’m lost and scared... please be okay! Nayu prayed to himself, as her coughing fit continued to rise in volume, until she finally went into a long spasm. When the paroxysm was finished, her breathing slowed. Every now and then, a hacking cough emerged.

Good... maybe she coughed up whatever it was, Nayu thought hopefully, looking at her, only to have his heart break again. Tears were streaming down her face, the hand that was on her chest now covering her mouth as she softly coughed again.

Then Nayu heard Liu give a grunt.

“What is it?” Nayu asked softly as the monk bent down and picked up something from the ground in front of Felonca. Liu held the item up, and slowly brought it closer to the firelight, his grunts changing from surprise to concern.

“Yellow mold,” the monk finally said grimly.

“Mold? Well, she coughed it up, didn’t she?” Nayu asked hopefully, his mind ignoring the soft croaks of Felonca behind him. “And beside, my parents had mold in their house. Ugly, but not that bad. Right?”

The monk stared in the flames in response.

“Right?” Nayu repeated, worry back in his voice. Liu gave a cough of his own, and when he turned to face the young man, Nayu could see a deep worry, and bottomless sorrow in his eyes.

“Felonca, please... come here. I must tell you something,” the monk said grimly. His dark, hopeless tone knocked the last bit of wishful thinking from Nayu’s mind.

Something horrible happened to her... oh no...

Gingerly, Felonca stumbled to where they sat, and almost collapsed, her body worn tired from the paroxysms. Her eyes, however, were still bright and alert, and filled with worry and fright.

“Felonca... you’ve inhaled a large amount of yellow mold... a mold that is extremely virulent, and extremely deadly. I’m... I’m...” the monk stopped speaking, his voice breaking apart for a second.

Nayu looked quickly between the monk and his friend, fear rising in his own heart. With the finality of a funeral bell, Liu turned back to Felonca, clearing his throat.

“It is... fatal, and I’m afraid there is nothing I can do.” The monk’s soft voice faded into nothing.
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Ok, the rabbit bit was thrown into the game by me to deal with my overly paranoid players. I like tossing in occassional, random spot and listen checks as well, to keep them on their toes.

The creatures the players met in this section are called dusanu, found in the Creature Catalogues here on EN World. Part of me was a rat bastard, as I know the way my players play and I knew one of them would charge the creatures and get hit by this surprise...

Don't worry, as soon as I get time, I'll post more of the adventure later on.

And yes, I’m a rat bastard.

 

[el-remmen]

Just a little bump to say that I got my first reader as a result of the sample I posted here. . . so other authors are encouraged to add more. . .