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Story Hour
The Lost Boys vs The Sunless Citadel
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<blockquote data-quote="Goonalan" data-source="post: 3665792" data-attributes="member: 16069"><p>Turn 4.1 </p><p></p><p style="text-align: center">Lord Meepo.</p><p></p><p>And here they come like some comedy conga-eel, snaking their way back to Isdrayl, the Kobold Queen, Dartamor balancing Cornflakes on his head all the way; Aleso carrying, the still unconscious, Meepo.</p><p></p><p>And then they’re home, or at least back to the Kobolds.</p><p></p><p>Kobold guards cheer and shout, many have produced small flags on sticks for the occasion, they bear the resemblance- very crudely sketched you understand, of Isdrayl. The more observant onlookers however could perhaps also spot another, smaller, figure on the backside of each flag- Meepo.</p><p></p><p>And here he is, back amongst his brethren, and sisteren of course, and loving it, he’s smiling even as he snoozes- he must be happy, either that or he has wind.</p><p></p><p>“Meepo Meepo Meepo Meepo.”</p><p></p><p>The assembled Kobold masses chant.</p><p></p><p>Dartamor slaps Meepo, Grand Alf applies a half-full waterskin. </p><p></p><p>The thronged masses quieten, in awe.</p><p></p><p>It’s hazy as Meepo greets his adoring public.</p><p></p><p>“Berd and gentle-kobolds. Ay, Meepo, dat is me, am back… and victorious.”</p><p></p><p>Meepo points at Cornflakes who squawks and shuffles for a better perch on Dartamor’s head.</p><p></p><p>“MEE-PO MEE-PO MEE-PO MEE-PO.”</p><p></p><p>The crowd love him.</p><p></p><p>And then, in an instant, they fall silent, Isdrayl appears from thin air, her face a mask.</p><p></p><p>Silence.</p><p></p><p>Some more.</p><p></p><p>A while longer, it’s getting a bit edgy.</p><p></p><p>Then in a rush Isdrayl screams and charges at Meepo.</p><p></p><p>Meepo sets himself for the hit- covers his face with his hands, and half-crunches/crouches.</p><p></p><p>And then… nothing, except for something, or rather someone, pawing at his legs… thighs… hang-on, small hands are creeping up towards his unmentionables.</p><p></p><p>He looks down; it’s Isdrayl, at his feet, all erotic and alluring.</p><p></p><p>“Oh Meepo, you’re so strong, so bruv, so suuv, so sophisticated, so 'andsome, so… sexy.”</p><p></p><p>Meepo shivers with, amongst things, delight.</p><p></p><p>Hands on hips, Isdrayl clinging to his thigh, he stares hard at his now bowing and scraping congregation.</p><p></p><p>“Yous shall call me Lord Meepo.”</p><p></p><p>He opens his arms wide for his audience to better adore him.</p><p></p><p>SLAP-SPLOOSH</p><p></p><p>He wakes in an instant.</p><p></p><p>He’s on the floor, no harm in that- as good a place as any, staring up at Isdrayl, there are better floors to be on he thinks.</p><p></p><p>He looks left and right, there’s a circus in town, hang on, he focuses, Kobolds- why are they screaming so much.</p><p></p><p>He listens to the random shouts and yelps.</p><p></p><p>“De Goblins ay com'n, de Goblins ay com'n.”</p><p>“I’m tew young ter die.”</p><p>“Run ter de 'ills.”</p><p>“Avyer seun me cummerbund, ay feel undressed without it.”</p><p>“MEEPO YOU BLT.”</p><p>“Think o' de god-forbids.”</p><p>“Run, run fe yer lives.”</p><p>“Armageddon- repent your sins, for the day of judgement is nigh, that means on-hand… that means… oh, the day of judgement is soon. Now-ish.”</p><p></p><p>He recognises the last voice, doesn’t understand it, he only knows fragments of the Common tongue; the voice belongs to Grand Alf.</p><p></p><p>Sure enough the Sorcerer swings into sight, “Hey, hey. Nice one Meepo”, thumbs up to the Kobold then he runs back out of sight, embracing the chaos.</p><p></p><p>In the midst of the swirl Saradomin and Aleso stand, gesturing wildly.</p><p></p><p>“If you’d just…”</p><p>“… Calm down.”</p><p>“There’s no need to…”</p><p>“… Panic.”</p><p></p><p>Only one Kobold- Isdrayl, can understand the Common tongue however. </p><p></p><p>Kobolds coalesce into tight groups, and then turn twist and scatter, like some mad quantum theory played out, mapping Kobold terror. Grand Alf is chasing them, arms out, like a giant bird, except for the whooping and giggling. He has an excuse however, he’s clearly mad.</p><p></p><p>“Pelor says…”, starts up Aleso, a sea of calm, “he says ‘If you can keep your head when all about you are losing theirs’… then something about ‘you’ll be a man my son.’” Aleso stops to think about it.</p><p></p><p>Saradomin joins in. “St. Cuthbert say’s ‘Rise like lions after slumber, in unvanquishable number. Shake your chains to Oerth like dew, which in sleep have fallen on you. And this is the good bit… Ye are many- they are few.’”</p><p></p><p>“There are hundreds of Goblins, tincan. We ARE the few.” Isdrayl growls at Saradomin.</p><p></p><p>“Oh.” Saradomin thinks, looks at Aleso, who looks back, the two shrug- then run off following Grand Alf flapping their arms heartily- some more chaos ensues.</p><p></p><p>Dartamor remains calm, drags Meepo to him, Isdrayl snarls. “You’ve done this with your tricksy ways. You have brought the Goblins down upon us. NOW YOU FIX IT.”</p><p></p><p>From within the folds of her robes she finds something, brings the something to her lips, and blows.</p><p></p><p>WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEPp</p><p></p><p>It’s a whistle. Like eight year olds in a Physical Education class the Kobolds, and assorted party members, come to a sudden stop- Grand Alf with his arms still out.</p><p></p><p>“Give us six warriors and we’ll kill them all.” Dartamor seizes the moment.</p><p></p><p>A lone Kobold sprints into the chamber, “They’re on the way- lots of them Durnn’s with them, and Hobgoblins, and the priestess.”</p><p></p><p>“Six warriors?” Dartamor fills the silence.</p><p></p><p>Isdrayl nods.</p><p></p><p>A minute later the four adventurers, Meepo, and six Kobold guards await the Goblins arrival, all facing a dilapidated wooden door through which the Goblins will have to pass, they’re all out of breath.</p><p></p><p>The adventurers have each been assigned a Kobold guard.</p><p></p><p>Meepo has two; he’s in charge of the reinforcements.</p><p></p><p>DUR-UNN DUR-UNN DUR-UNN</p><p></p><p>They’re coming.</p><p></p><p>Dartamor quickly spills a bag of caltrops in front of the door, sneaks back into position.</p><p></p><p>Grand Alf pokes Aleso, “Give me the flask. The fire potion.”</p><p>“I don’t think that’s wise… Why?" Aleso replies.</p><p>“I have one spell left… I will incinerate them; send them all to burny hell.” Grand Alf breaks off for a cackle, he’s getting quite good at it.</p><p>“Ok, use it wisely.” Aleso nods and hands the flask over.</p><p></p><p>Then spins round, “Dartamor what are they called, the Kobold’s names- so that we may better direct them?”</p><p></p><p>A short mumbled conversation later, Dartamor looks crestfallen.</p><p></p><p>“Well?” Saradomin enquires.</p><p>“Freddie.” Dartamor sullenly replies.</p><p>“Which one?”</p><p>“All of them.”</p><p></p><p>Saradomin shakes his head. “St. Cuthbert, I hope you can hear me, that’s typical, bloody typical.”</p><p></p><p>“Everybody wa Kung Fu Fytin.</p><p>Fast as Light-ning.</p><p>Everybody wa…”</p><p></p><p>“Shut up Grand Alf.” Dartamor states with a stare.</p><p>“Sorry, nervous… They’re taking their time aren’t they… Perhaps they’ve decided against it.” Grand Alf offers.</p><p></p><p>“Shhhhh.” The collective response.</p><p></p><p>“I’m just saying we haven’t heard that- ‘DUR-UNN DUR-UNN’ for a while, what do you think they’re…”</p><p></p><p>SMASH</p><p></p><p>The door ahead comes away, two huge hits from towering Hobgoblins armed with axes. The Hobgoblins part, Goblins beyond, as far as the eye can see.</p><p></p><p>Dur-unn Dur-UNN DUR-UNN</p><p></p><p>They charge.</p><p></p><p>“Wait for my spell.” Grand Alf screams.</p><p></p><p>The other three sound their rallying calls-</p><p>“For Pelor, may the light of his beneficent er… light shine forth.”</p><p>“For St. Cuthbert, gis some change for a cuppa.”</p><p>“For money and power.” </p><p></p><p>Meepo takes the scene in, decides swiftly, and before a shot is fired retreats with the reinforcements, and for retreat read- runs.</p><p></p><p>Next Turn- Scrap, scrap, scrap, scrap (continues indefinitely).</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Goonalan, post: 3665792, member: 16069"] Turn 4.1 [CENTER]Lord Meepo.[/CENTER] And here they come like some comedy conga-eel, snaking their way back to Isdrayl, the Kobold Queen, Dartamor balancing Cornflakes on his head all the way; Aleso carrying, the still unconscious, Meepo. And then they’re home, or at least back to the Kobolds. Kobold guards cheer and shout, many have produced small flags on sticks for the occasion, they bear the resemblance- very crudely sketched you understand, of Isdrayl. The more observant onlookers however could perhaps also spot another, smaller, figure on the backside of each flag- Meepo. And here he is, back amongst his brethren, and sisteren of course, and loving it, he’s smiling even as he snoozes- he must be happy, either that or he has wind. “Meepo Meepo Meepo Meepo.” The assembled Kobold masses chant. Dartamor slaps Meepo, Grand Alf applies a half-full waterskin. The thronged masses quieten, in awe. It’s hazy as Meepo greets his adoring public. “Berd and gentle-kobolds. Ay, Meepo, dat is me, am back… and victorious.” Meepo points at Cornflakes who squawks and shuffles for a better perch on Dartamor’s head. “MEE-PO MEE-PO MEE-PO MEE-PO.” The crowd love him. And then, in an instant, they fall silent, Isdrayl appears from thin air, her face a mask. Silence. Some more. A while longer, it’s getting a bit edgy. Then in a rush Isdrayl screams and charges at Meepo. Meepo sets himself for the hit- covers his face with his hands, and half-crunches/crouches. And then… nothing, except for something, or rather someone, pawing at his legs… thighs… hang-on, small hands are creeping up towards his unmentionables. He looks down; it’s Isdrayl, at his feet, all erotic and alluring. “Oh Meepo, you’re so strong, so bruv, so suuv, so sophisticated, so 'andsome, so… sexy.” Meepo shivers with, amongst things, delight. Hands on hips, Isdrayl clinging to his thigh, he stares hard at his now bowing and scraping congregation. “Yous shall call me Lord Meepo.” He opens his arms wide for his audience to better adore him. SLAP-SPLOOSH He wakes in an instant. He’s on the floor, no harm in that- as good a place as any, staring up at Isdrayl, there are better floors to be on he thinks. He looks left and right, there’s a circus in town, hang on, he focuses, Kobolds- why are they screaming so much. He listens to the random shouts and yelps. “De Goblins ay com'n, de Goblins ay com'n.” “I’m tew young ter die.” “Run ter de 'ills.” “Avyer seun me cummerbund, ay feel undressed without it.” “MEEPO YOU BLT.” “Think o' de god-forbids.” “Run, run fe yer lives.” “Armageddon- repent your sins, for the day of judgement is nigh, that means on-hand… that means… oh, the day of judgement is soon. Now-ish.” He recognises the last voice, doesn’t understand it, he only knows fragments of the Common tongue; the voice belongs to Grand Alf. Sure enough the Sorcerer swings into sight, “Hey, hey. Nice one Meepo”, thumbs up to the Kobold then he runs back out of sight, embracing the chaos. In the midst of the swirl Saradomin and Aleso stand, gesturing wildly. “If you’d just…” “… Calm down.” “There’s no need to…” “… Panic.” Only one Kobold- Isdrayl, can understand the Common tongue however. Kobolds coalesce into tight groups, and then turn twist and scatter, like some mad quantum theory played out, mapping Kobold terror. Grand Alf is chasing them, arms out, like a giant bird, except for the whooping and giggling. He has an excuse however, he’s clearly mad. “Pelor says…”, starts up Aleso, a sea of calm, “he says ‘If you can keep your head when all about you are losing theirs’… then something about ‘you’ll be a man my son.’” Aleso stops to think about it. Saradomin joins in. “St. Cuthbert say’s ‘Rise like lions after slumber, in unvanquishable number. Shake your chains to Oerth like dew, which in sleep have fallen on you. And this is the good bit… Ye are many- they are few.’” “There are hundreds of Goblins, tincan. We ARE the few.” Isdrayl growls at Saradomin. “Oh.” Saradomin thinks, looks at Aleso, who looks back, the two shrug- then run off following Grand Alf flapping their arms heartily- some more chaos ensues. Dartamor remains calm, drags Meepo to him, Isdrayl snarls. “You’ve done this with your tricksy ways. You have brought the Goblins down upon us. NOW YOU FIX IT.” From within the folds of her robes she finds something, brings the something to her lips, and blows. WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEPp It’s a whistle. Like eight year olds in a Physical Education class the Kobolds, and assorted party members, come to a sudden stop- Grand Alf with his arms still out. “Give us six warriors and we’ll kill them all.” Dartamor seizes the moment. A lone Kobold sprints into the chamber, “They’re on the way- lots of them Durnn’s with them, and Hobgoblins, and the priestess.” “Six warriors?” Dartamor fills the silence. Isdrayl nods. A minute later the four adventurers, Meepo, and six Kobold guards await the Goblins arrival, all facing a dilapidated wooden door through which the Goblins will have to pass, they’re all out of breath. The adventurers have each been assigned a Kobold guard. Meepo has two; he’s in charge of the reinforcements. DUR-UNN DUR-UNN DUR-UNN They’re coming. Dartamor quickly spills a bag of caltrops in front of the door, sneaks back into position. Grand Alf pokes Aleso, “Give me the flask. The fire potion.” “I don’t think that’s wise… Why?" Aleso replies. “I have one spell left… I will incinerate them; send them all to burny hell.” Grand Alf breaks off for a cackle, he’s getting quite good at it. “Ok, use it wisely.” Aleso nods and hands the flask over. Then spins round, “Dartamor what are they called, the Kobold’s names- so that we may better direct them?” A short mumbled conversation later, Dartamor looks crestfallen. “Well?” Saradomin enquires. “Freddie.” Dartamor sullenly replies. “Which one?” “All of them.” Saradomin shakes his head. “St. Cuthbert, I hope you can hear me, that’s typical, bloody typical.” “Everybody wa Kung Fu Fytin. Fast as Light-ning. Everybody wa…” “Shut up Grand Alf.” Dartamor states with a stare. “Sorry, nervous… They’re taking their time aren’t they… Perhaps they’ve decided against it.” Grand Alf offers. “Shhhhh.” The collective response. “I’m just saying we haven’t heard that- ‘DUR-UNN DUR-UNN’ for a while, what do you think they’re…” SMASH The door ahead comes away, two huge hits from towering Hobgoblins armed with axes. The Hobgoblins part, Goblins beyond, as far as the eye can see. Dur-unn Dur-UNN DUR-UNN They charge. “Wait for my spell.” Grand Alf screams. The other three sound their rallying calls- “For Pelor, may the light of his beneficent er… light shine forth.” “For St. Cuthbert, gis some change for a cuppa.” “For money and power.” Meepo takes the scene in, decides swiftly, and before a shot is fired retreats with the reinforcements, and for retreat read- runs. Next Turn- Scrap, scrap, scrap, scrap (continues indefinitely). [/QUOTE]
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