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Tales From The Awning Pothole
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<blockquote data-quote="BoldItalic" data-source="post: 7182945" data-attributes="member: 6777052"><p><span style="color: blue">Tippy rode through the castle gates just after mid-day and handed the reins of his exhausted horse to a nearby groom. Dashing up the steps into the great hall, he burst through the great double doors with a Strength Roll that would have done credit to an old-school fighter. "Your Grace!" he cried, seeing Cholmondeley seated with a group of people at the far end of an exceedingly long table, "I have something of import to reveal concerning the lady Terri!"</span></p><p><span style="color: blue"></span></p><p><span style="color: blue">"Ah, Sir Theodore, you are here at last," replied the duke. "I believe you have met my former associates?"</span></p><p><span style="color: blue"></span></p><p><span style="color: blue">"We have met, albeit briefly," acknowledged Foghorn with a nod. "You made quite an entrance when you came to the Awning Pothole, did you not?"</span></p><p><span style="color: blue"></span></p><p><span style="color: blue">"Don't be too hard on the gentleman, Foghorn," chided Sister Jericho, "From the look of him, he has ridden through the night to be here, leaving his fellow-adventurers to follow on foot as best they can. Come, Sir Theodore, sit with us, take some refreshments and tell us this important news?" [sup]1[/sup]</span></p><p><span style="color: blue"></span></p><p><span style="color: blue">Tippy gratefully sat down with a clank, next to Ronni who helpfully relieved him of his helmet.[sup]2[/sup] "Your grace," he began, "You must listen to this magic eagle." He pressed the eyes of the statuette and it played the voice of Terri relating her adventures, from her chance meeting with a sorcerer called Ballnard in an unidentified tavern, through her entry into the Warlord class, her use of Acererak's <em>Wish</em> in an unexpected way and her final disappearance in the cataclysm that ended the reign of the mad unnamed NPC named Bob Until. For a moment, there was silence around the table when the eagle finished the tale.</span></p><p><span style="color: blue"></span></p><p><span style="color: blue">"They were all wiped out in the <em>denouement</em>? That sounds a bit fishy," suggested Keyes. "So how come Terri is still around?"</span></p><p><span style="color: blue"></span></p><p><span style="color: blue">But Cholmondeley was barely listening. "We must find this sorcerer called Ballnard," he declared with a sudden finality that brooked no argument. One thing about being a duke, he had learned, is that when you eventually decide something, people automatically accept it; even if it is as complicated as how many fried eggs to have for breakfast or as simple as deciding whether the Mona Lisa is actually <em>art</em> or just a nice painting. The hard bit is guessing what they want you to decide.</span></p><p><span style="color: blue"></span></p><p><span style="color: blue">Tippy sensed that everyone was looking at him expectantly. When Cholmondeley said <u>we</u> he obviously meant <u>him</u>. He was going to need help. Possibly from someone who could do some research. Possibly from someone who was somewhere near a library. He drew out his oyster shell, blew into it and put it to his ear. A confused babble of sounds emerged speaking in several voices at once.</span></p><p><span style="color: blue"></span></p><p><span style="color: blue"><span style="color: green">... use the eight-foot pole ... not <em>that</em> way ... did I put the cat out? ... cackle, cackle, cackle ... come in Blue Leader ... Βρεκεκεκὲξ κοὰξ κοάξ ... the rightful son shall be known by his ... cackle, cackle, cackle ...</span></span></p><p><span style="color: blue"></span></p><p><span style="color: blue">"Excuse me, your grace," mumbled Tippy, "I have to attend to something," and he bowed and left the hall. Something was wrong ...</span></p><p><span style="color: blue"></span></p><p>[hr][/hr]</p><p>[sup]1[/sup] If you wonder why SJ was playing the hostess and by-passing Cholmondeley, who owned the place after all, it's because she already knew that Cholmondeley was traumatised by the sudden disappearance of Terri and wasn't capable of playing the host, so someone had to do it. She was thoughtful like that.</p><p></p><p>[sup]2[/sup] He never did get it back. Odd, that.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="BoldItalic, post: 7182945, member: 6777052"] [color=blue]Tippy rode through the castle gates just after mid-day and handed the reins of his exhausted horse to a nearby groom. Dashing up the steps into the great hall, he burst through the great double doors with a Strength Roll that would have done credit to an old-school fighter. "Your Grace!" he cried, seeing Cholmondeley seated with a group of people at the far end of an exceedingly long table, "I have something of import to reveal concerning the lady Terri!" "Ah, Sir Theodore, you are here at last," replied the duke. "I believe you have met my former associates?" "We have met, albeit briefly," acknowledged Foghorn with a nod. "You made quite an entrance when you came to the Awning Pothole, did you not?" "Don't be too hard on the gentleman, Foghorn," chided Sister Jericho, "From the look of him, he has ridden through the night to be here, leaving his fellow-adventurers to follow on foot as best they can. Come, Sir Theodore, sit with us, take some refreshments and tell us this important news?" [sup]1[/sup] Tippy gratefully sat down with a clank, next to Ronni who helpfully relieved him of his helmet.[sup]2[/sup] "Your grace," he began, "You must listen to this magic eagle." He pressed the eyes of the statuette and it played the voice of Terri relating her adventures, from her chance meeting with a sorcerer called Ballnard in an unidentified tavern, through her entry into the Warlord class, her use of Acererak's [i]Wish[/i] in an unexpected way and her final disappearance in the cataclysm that ended the reign of the mad unnamed NPC named Bob Until. For a moment, there was silence around the table when the eagle finished the tale. "They were all wiped out in the [i]denouement[/i]? That sounds a bit fishy," suggested Keyes. "So how come Terri is still around?" But Cholmondeley was barely listening. "We must find this sorcerer called Ballnard," he declared with a sudden finality that brooked no argument. One thing about being a duke, he had learned, is that when you eventually decide something, people automatically accept it; even if it is as complicated as how many fried eggs to have for breakfast or as simple as deciding whether the Mona Lisa is actually [i]art[/i] or just a nice painting. The hard bit is guessing what they want you to decide. Tippy sensed that everyone was looking at him expectantly. When Cholmondeley said [u]we[/u] he obviously meant [u]him[/u]. He was going to need help. Possibly from someone who could do some research. Possibly from someone who was somewhere near a library. He drew out his oyster shell, blew into it and put it to his ear. A confused babble of sounds emerged speaking in several voices at once. [color=green]... use the eight-foot pole ... not [i]that[/i] way ... did I put the cat out? ... cackle, cackle, cackle ... come in Blue Leader ... Βρεκεκεκὲξ κοὰξ κοάξ ... the rightful son shall be known by his ... cackle, cackle, cackle ...[/color] "Excuse me, your grace," mumbled Tippy, "I have to attend to something," and he bowed and left the hall. Something was wrong ... [/color] [hr][/hr] [sup]1[/sup] If you wonder why SJ was playing the hostess and by-passing Cholmondeley, who owned the place after all, it's because she already knew that Cholmondeley was traumatised by the sudden disappearance of Terri and wasn't capable of playing the host, so someone had to do it. She was thoughtful like that. [sup]2[/sup] He never did get it back. Odd, that. [/QUOTE]
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