The never ending story of ...

[rgoodbb]

…..Medusa

“Who the bloody el did that. Av just set mi curlers and now me snairks are al over thee place. Shockin’ just bloody shockin’. A woz gowin for a blue rinse and a perm as well, al av’ ya know. Do you kner ow long it tairks to braid these flippin’ snairks in? Hours. That’s ow long. What? So ashamed of me that ya can’t look me in thee ayes?”

“Well….well, you’re a gorgon. Won’t we turn to ster..stone?” Nord asked in a very meek voice, a little pee trickling down his leg.

“Not while av got me fairce pack on, stupid.”

Nord, not sure whether this was a trick or not asked “Herewulf. If I turn to stone, can ye get me back again?”

“Well I can try and lay on my hands again but that technique has yet to bear fruit for some reason. I…..will try.”

Nord slowly looked up at the creature of legends. He didn’t turn to stone. The medusa had a very red face.

“It’s a Papaya and Red Clay facepack. It soothes mi skin is wot it does.”

“Nord at ye service maam.”

“Aren't you a charma'. Call me Dotti. Oower. Wots ‘ee doin’ dan thure?”

Herewulf got up off the floor, frustrated as ever. He still did not know how his level 1 feature worked. It was all so very, very embarrassing. Then a thought occurred. Maybe it wasn’t that he did not know, but rather that he’d forgotten. He was the Champion of the Forgotten. He stood up straight, puffed his chest out and exclaimed “Tomorrow. I’ll know tomorrow!” and in that instant he became completely aware of how to lay on hands. He got very excited “I know, next I’ll try……..

 

[BoldItalic]

"I know, next I’ll try…….. I'll try it the other way around. I'll lay down on your hands."

"Madam," said Od smoothly to Dotti, "Perhaps I can be of some assistance? In a former occupation I trained under the great Coiffo, hair-arranger to several royal houses." This was a brazen lie, but Od thought he might get away with it.

"Ta fur the offah, but me snakes is a bit frisky an' wouldn' take kindly to bein' mussed abaht," replied the medusa. As if to emphasise the point all the snakes on her head reared up in synchonism and glared at Od meaningfully, as if daring him to put his hands within fangs reach.

But Od drew out his silver flute and played the opening bars of the snake charmer song. You know, the one that goes wah wah wa-ah wah and so on. The snakes liked that, it reminded them of home, and they started dancing the slow fangdango. Od kept up the music until they were exhausted and fell asleep, whereupon Dotti was able to arrange them neatly in ringlets to her obvious satisfaction.

"You can come again," said Dotti approvingly. "But do us a favour an' leave the storms at home. Wot you doin' 'ere anyways? This island is supposed ter be deserted. On account of me an' the others."

"We're privateers. We came to bury fifty tons of gold. It belongs to Penelope the kraken."

"WUT? 'Er as destroyed Atlantis? No thank you. Not on my island. I like my island where it is, thank you very much. Take it someplace else."

"But she told us to bring it here. For safe keeping. You could guard it for us, if you like."

"Me? Guard fifty tons of gold? You must be joking, sunshine. Fifty tons is so far off the top of the treasure tables, it's enough to bring every 20th-level Legend of The Multiverse down here with their mirror shields and their +3 Wheelbarrows of Carrying. Over my undead body. Tell your kraken I said no."

"I could write a song about you? Extolling your beauty?"

"No. At least ..."

"Mmm?"

"No."

"Oh well, looks like it's back to the Phase Rider, then."

"You came here on that? You mus' be dumber than you look."

"Oh, why?"

"Don' you know the legend? Whoever sails on the Phase Rider 's doomed nevah to find what they seek."

"We seek the biggest diamond in the world."

"Well, then, you won' find it. Jus' when you think you've found it, there'll be an even bigger one to go after. Go home an' jus' spend your tons of gold. That's my advice."

"I don't think we're supposed to."

"Not my problem."

At this point in the conversation, a thought that had been niggling at Nord's subconscious finally managed to get itself noticed. "Er, you said you and the others? Is there something we should know about?"

 

[rgoodbb]

“…Is there something we should know about?"

“No! Not really.”

“OooooKaaaay”

“Dammit a 7 on deception. Do I get a legendary reroll?”

“It’s kind of too late now. You just told us you were deceiving.”

“I could cast mind wipe on you.”

“But everyone else would know you did it.”

“Hang on is this Meta-gaming?”

“Not if we are doing it in-game. It shouldn’t matter”

“Oh I see, it’s Matter-Gaming.”

“Wiping Mind over Matter.”

“Oh I see what you did there.”

“But you won’t remember.”

“I will never again forget. I am the new Champion of…..of…..non-un-rememberancelesness.”

“…..really?”

“…Mm-hmm…”

“I don’t really know where this conversation is going at the moment.”

“Agreed. Too much role playing. I attack you.”

“Roll for initiative you forgetless fighter.”

The game was up. They had her surrounded on all sides. The odds were in their favour. They had been dealt a good hand. They had the upper hand. This would be a walk in the park. A cake walk. Piece of cake. Easy as pi..

At that moment the aforementioned Others turned up.

“Oh no. Really? Oh F……

 

[BoldItalic]

There was a blur as Od cartwheeled around the medusa, leapt nimbly upon the altar, grabbed a candlestick en passant and hurled it through the doorway. He was rewarded with an "oof" sound as it struck an approaching other on the nose (or possibly snout).

Dotti screamed. It wasn't the scream of a thwarted villain, it wasn't the scream of a banshee having its throat cut, it wasn't even the scream of a bad actress in a horror movie. It was the scream of a medusa whose recently-combed snakes were suddenly on fire and rapidly turning into carbonised ex-snakes. Nord had cast Combust Serpent. Pleased his success, he glanced down at his hands and wondered idly why they were growing feathers. They were quite pretty feathers, mostly a kind of irridescent green with yellow stripes, but not the sort of feathers you expect to see on a storm sorcerer. Not often, anyway.

A dull thud came from outside the door as Snappy's deftly lofted football dropped into and through the bottomless bucket and bounced off the head of a second other as it hove noisily into the room. Snappy grinned his special toothy grin and looked round for approval from Xena. She, however, was too drunk to appreciate it and called for a glass of djinn and vermouth. No-one brought her one, though.

Herewulf remembered that it was his turn next. He drew his rapier, cried the battle cry of the unforgotten and lunged. He didn't actually lunge at anything in particular, which is perhaps why he didn't hit it; but it was impressive ayway and was absolutely the right thing for a paladin to do. But then the other other arrived. Its evil aura crashed into the room and Herewulf was overwhelmed. His knees turned to jelly, although being a gelatinous paladin anyway he bore it with considerable fortitude, and he was suddenly seized with a loathing of his own shield, which he flung away from him as far as he could.

And then, and then, the other other raised a mantled arm, opened its grim and grisly mouth and spoke. "I use Turn Living," it announced with awful finality. "I want you all to make Wisdom saves. The DC is 17 and you get disadvantage because reasons."

 

[rgoodbb]

“13”

“Natural 1”

“8”

"11"

“16 So close”

In turn they all failed their checks. All that is, apart from Bigby.

“Natural 20” She gleamed. Proud of herself and shielding her roll with her considerable hand. Sisyphus was tutting away slowly and with disappointment in the back of her mind.

So the long and short of this was that the party turned 180 degrees. The sergeant making his a military “About Turn!” Snappy switching on his orange warning lights as he produced a wide turning angle and needed the space. Nord's feathered hands ruffled as he spun against his will. Bigby, however did not turn. She stayed and faced the three Others, staring them down. One of them put its fingers to its lips and said “Shhh.”

Bigby had absolutely no intention of staying quiet but (silently) screamed as she realised that this Other had completed the verbal and somantic elements of a Silence spell. What she saw next horrified her. She wished that she had been turned around as well.

The three Others giggled to each other like children, opened long canvas holdalls and began taking out fancy dress clothes. One: a big clown outfit, another ghost like sheets, the last one,, well, it produced a costume of such horror, such evil dread that this one single post could not do it the injustice it deserved. Of all the things it could have picked as its costume, surely this was the worst, the one that could end them all.

The third Other slowly and deliberately dressed. Taking its time, it transformed into…………………..

 

[BoldItalic]

Taking its time, it transformed into………………….. Taking its time, it transformed into…………………..

It's not good, I can't even type what it turned into. My keyboard freezes in terror at he very thought of it. Suffice it say that it was very, very horrid.

"Little girl," it said in a terrible deep voice that dripped with menace, "Come here ..."

"NO!" shouted Bigby silently, frantically waving her arms. Then she did what you must never, ever, do - she turned her back on it. She ran to Jeli and pinched the back of Jeli's arm to make her pay attention. Alas, she forgot that she was wearing false fingernails and scratched Jeli's arm so that a tiny trickle of blood throbbed up. "Ouch!" thought Jeli, "What did you do that for?"

Well, of course, Turn Living ends if the turned creature takes damage and a scatch on the arm is quite sufficient. Jeli spun round to face her foe and hurled a dagger with uncanny accuracy at his collar button, causing his costume to fall off again and exposing him for what he was: a mere actor from a touring company, just like his two friends. "Is this a dagger I see before me?" he declaimed, adopting a theatrical pose.

"Toby or not Toby?" responded the clown, "That is the question."

"Woo-ooo-ooo." said the man in the sheet. "I am the ghost of Christmas Presents."

"Can I stop taking the Dodge action now?" asked Herewulf, "Only I'm getting cramp."

"Excuse me," interrupted Dotti, "Oi'm not in the mood for theatricals. You can all just b***** off."

"Well!" huffed Toby the clown, "The things I suffer for my art! Come, let us away ere the cock crow!" Exit, pursued by a bear.

"Now you've offended him," protested the ghost. "You're nothing but a bunch of Philistines!"

"Oh, I don't know," countered his friend, "Their toy crocodile is very realistic. We could do that scene from Anthony and Cleopatra -"

"What manner o' thing is your crocodile?"

"It is shaped, sir, like itself; and it is as broad
as it hath breadth: it is just so high as it is,
and moves with its own organs: it lives by that
which nourisheth it; and the elements once out of
it, it transmigrates."​

"This is insane!" shouted Od. "We're trying to have a serious adventure here!"

Everyone turned and stared at Od. The hairs on the back of his neck began to prickle. His ears felt suddenly hot. He wavered. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. For a moment, he was back in his room in the Pig and Lion with a strong feeling that he was about to wake up. But he didn't wake up. This wasn't a crazy dream. There really was a kraken with fifty tons of gold. There really was a ship called the Phase Rider. He really was in an underground temple accompanied by an elf, a sorcerer, a paladin, a talking crocodile who played football and a gaggle of females of various ages who were sometimes mermaids and sometimes not and sometimes rode unicorns that were sometimes narwhals.

Od did what anyone would do in such circumstances. He curled up into a ball and went catatonic.

 

[rgoodbb]

Knock, knock, knock.

He didn’t want to open his eyes. The morning sun always seared through the attic window at around this time and so he pulled the blanket further over his head to shield from the glare. He really must do something about that.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Oh, go away.” His head hurt. He’d sang and danced and then wowed the crowds with such tall tales. He had drank, oh he had drank, and talked and cajoled until the early hours, and in his mind, it was still far too early in the day for disturbances.

Knock, knock, knock. Knock, knock, knock. Knock, knock, knock.

The halfling swung his still booted feat out of bed in an irritated sweep, realising that the boots were all he was wearing, he found a dressing gown and wrapped himself up. And so, with the tender head of an angry bear, he thudded with extra heated force towards the round-topped door. “What?” He said bluntly to the door.

“I’m locked out and my clothes are in there.” Came back a young woman’s voice.

“You…...Wha...” Od desperately thought back. Sifting through the numerous ales and wines and spiced ciders. There was a girl. A woman really but young and doey-eyed towards him. She too was a Hin, he remembered. A halfling. She had become captivated by his words and hung upon every one of them. He unlocked the latch on the door and she burst in diving for the bed, arms covering as much of her flesh as they could.

“Oh….Uhm…I….” Od began.

“You getting back in or what?”

“Well, as you put it that way……”

Knock, knock, knock.

“Not now!”

Knock, knock, knock.

“I said n...”

“Oh let her in. It’s only me sister. You remember her don’t you?”

“Your sis….uhm…..of course.”

Od returned to the door, unlatched it and another beautiful curly carrot-haired maiden ran to the bed. Od was seriously starting to regret not remembering much from the night before. He locked the door again and was about to return when implausibly, a third knock came. He opened the door rapidly and was disappointed when a bearded courier handed him a letter.

Weirdly, because nothing at this point was weird at all, Od instinctively knew what was in the letter. He knew that it was his brother Ivan pleading for his help because mother had had gone mad and locked father in the basement. He knew he should pack his things. He knew he should go on this long adventure.

“Get in. I’ve ordered a cooked breakfast……for an hour’s time…..”

Od unsurprisingly decided to remain in his room and did not go on his adventure. Life was great.

------------------------------------------------------------------

“What’s wrong with him?” asked Xena.

“He appears to be in some sort of dream state.” replied jeli.

“Oh my. He does appear to be enjoying that dream a little too much doesn’t he?”

“Girls. Look away from him now!” Demanded Jeli.

“We are over 18 now you know.” Their faces seemed to say.

 

[BoldItalic]

Nord leaned over to Herewulf and said quietly, "I don't think that's a very good idea," just before Herewulf suggested "Should we throw a bucket of water over him?" The conversation continued something like this:

"Because I've just cast Detect Thoughts"

"How did you know what I was going to suggest?"

"Of course, that's what being a sorcerer is all about."

"Are you allowed to do that?"

"Not half as creepy as what you're thinking. And yes, I can."

"That's creepy. Can't you do it on someone else?"

"A purple gazebo."

"Go on then, clever clogs, what am I thinking about?" challenged Jeli.

"I think so."

"Does it work both ways?"

"Good idea."

"You could try it on Od and suggest waking up."

Od sighed and murmured "Go away, Nord, I know it's you."

 

[rgoodbb]

Od sighed and murmured "Go away, Nord, I know it's you..................."


".................But Jeli and Herewulf, you are both welcome in here."

"What...I" Flustered both Jeli and the big Paladin almost in unison.

"Don't think you haven't thought about it Herewulf. I can read your mind."

"What...I....You are such a trickster Od."

"Why did you leave the army again? And Jeli. Why did they throw you out the Grove?"

"Enough!" Shouted Nord. "Snappy. Breathe on his face. Now!"

This the tooth’ed one did. And the build-up of foul stagnant river breath belched out in all its glory.

----------------------------------------------

Odd threw up over everyone in his attic room, thus dispelling the illusion.

He awoke rubbed his eyes…

Knock, knock, knock.

Oh no! Not again. Well maybe…

This time the noise was from Snappy’s tail hitting the side of a cavern wall. “Where did they go? And who were they, those powerful trio?”

“They are known as the Mummers. And powerful they were indeed, until long ago, heroes of legend banished them and cast them away on this island.” Dottie thought. “Hmm. You came on a ship didn’t you? I’d get back to it pretty quickly before they escape on it. You may have just unleashed the Mummers back onto the world. Haahaahaa.” The gorgon cackled and cackled as Jeli, Od, Nord, Herewulf, Xena, Amanda, Bigby and Snappy all made for the coast as fast as their Multi-steeds could carry them.

Meanwhile, at the Phase Rider……………..

 

[BoldItalic]

Meanwhile, at the Phase Rider……………..

For three days, nothing exciting happened. The gnomes spent their time making the ship ship-shaped, fishing for their dinners, making neat coils of rope with elegant knots in them, and ironing the creases out of the sails. When they got bored with that, they made little items of jewellery out of gold ingots, of which they had far too many down in the hold, and teased each other with little illusions seeing who could make the most convincing ones.

On the third day at sunset, a huge full moon rose blood-red in the east and it was a bad omen. The gnomes were uneasy and doubled the anchors, fearing a Tempest or possibly even a King Lear. Then Bosun, who was on watch in the crows nest, spotted movement on the shore. A few cantrips later, they all knew that it was three actors, rehearsing casually on the beach whilst furtively keeping watch on the Rider. Clearly, thought Skipper, they were up to no good and he ordered the gun ports to be dogged open and the cannon to be run out on the landward beam. Down below, two of the gnomes set up a furnace and started to melt gold ingots down into cannon balls. Gold is nearly twice as heavy as lead so it makes excellent cannon balls although they do tend to flatten on impact because it's quite soft. A bit like armour-piercing tank shells, really. If there's one thing gnomes understand, it's gold.

It wasn't long before the three actors started lighting flares and waving them to-and-fro, trying, quite unneccesarily as it turned out, to attract the attention of the crew on the ship. "Ahoy, me hearties," called the one dressed as a clown, "Can we come aboard your fine vessel?" Except his voice was just a little distorted by the night air and it came across as 'vassal' which puts quite a different complexion on things.

Skipper used a cantrip to amplify his voice and he boomed back "What ship are you?" meaning, of course, what was the name of the ship that they had presumably sailed in, to get to the island. "The Merchant of Venice," came the reply. (You could tell that they were accomplished actors by the way that they enunciated those italics.)

"Out of what harbour?"

"From the still-vexed Bermoothes, there she’s hid."

"Whither bound?"

"Bound sadly home for Naples."

At this point Skipper, who had read more books than you could shake a spear at, knew for certain that the actor was a ne'er-do-well for he was quoting from the wrong play and not from the Merchant of Venice at all. He called down to First Mate, "Put a shot across their bows, Mister Mate, if you please!" and a cannon roared. It rolled a 17 - a definite hit on an unarmoured Actor even allowing for his Dex Adjustment of +3.

Er, .. DM? What's the damage roll for a gold cannon ball?

Dunno. Roll 6d8 maybe?

Okay, that's ... *clatter clatter clatter* 29 ?

The clown staggered, having taken the full force of a gold cannon ball in the chest, and fell backwards foaming blood.

Seeing what they were up against, the other two actors abandoned him and, like cowards, fled into the trees where they met ...