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The Wednesday Knights Story Hour
- Thread starter Goonalan
- Start date
robberbaron
First Post
'bout time too.
I was getting worried.
I was getting worried.
I wrote the next Turn up last night- it's another biggie, verbosity's a terrible thing, I'll try and knock off a few more over the weekend. I'll post one on Monday- promise.
Coming up next the Carimor Annual Olympic Games...
Talk about topical.
The Tozar Barbarians, motto- "where the fighting is thickest"- no fear of head injuries.
VS.
The Carimor Imperial Guard, motto- "letting you down gently"- a standing army of two.
There follows an advertisement on behalf of our sponsor, read it, OR ELSE-
JOIN THE CARIMOR IMPERIAL GUARD NOW
YOUR OLIGARCHY NEEDS YOU
PLACES STILL AVAILABLE FOR THE OLYMPIC TEAM
CAN YOU WRESTLE, TOSS, SHOOT, DRINK OR RUN UPPITY-DOWNITY
IF "YES", "MAYBE", OR EVEN "NO"-
THEN THE CARIMOR IMPERIAL GUARD IS THE PLACE FOR YOU.
THE CARIMOR IMPERIAL GUARD- DEMOCRACY INACTION.
Advert ends- THANK YOU.
The Games include the Modern Pentathalon-
Arm Wrestling
The Goblin Toss
Archery (Standing & Mounted)
Drinking
And the Finale...
The Big Run Over Bumps And Jumps And That
A clash of societal values on an epic scale, Barbarism meets Civilisation, to slug it out with knife, clenched fist and pointy chopstick.
THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE.
Concessions Available. Tickets 1 Groat.
Come one, come all, come many, come some, come as you are, COME ON EILEEN TA LOO RAH HEY, oh just come why don't you- a crowd of literally tens expected.
Book early to avoid not being disappointed.
HIGHLIGHTS OF THIS EVENT WILL BE SHOWN ON-
SCRY SPATS
HOSTED AS EVER BY...
HAM SLAAD
TUNE CRYSTAL BALLS AND REFLECTING POOLS TO 107.3 MAGICHURTZ
SCRY THE FUTURE NOW, TOMORROW.
Please note in earlier press releases Ticket Prices appeared as 1 Groat, the actual price is 1 Goat. No kidding.
Coming up next the Carimor Annual Olympic Games...
Talk about topical.
The Tozar Barbarians, motto- "where the fighting is thickest"- no fear of head injuries.
VS.
The Carimor Imperial Guard, motto- "letting you down gently"- a standing army of two.
There follows an advertisement on behalf of our sponsor, read it, OR ELSE-
JOIN THE CARIMOR IMPERIAL GUARD NOW
YOUR OLIGARCHY NEEDS YOU
PLACES STILL AVAILABLE FOR THE OLYMPIC TEAM
CAN YOU WRESTLE, TOSS, SHOOT, DRINK OR RUN UPPITY-DOWNITY
IF "YES", "MAYBE", OR EVEN "NO"-
THEN THE CARIMOR IMPERIAL GUARD IS THE PLACE FOR YOU.
THE CARIMOR IMPERIAL GUARD- DEMOCRACY INACTION.
Advert ends- THANK YOU.
The Games include the Modern Pentathalon-
Arm Wrestling
The Goblin Toss
Archery (Standing & Mounted)
Drinking
And the Finale...
The Big Run Over Bumps And Jumps And That
A clash of societal values on an epic scale, Barbarism meets Civilisation, to slug it out with knife, clenched fist and pointy chopstick.
THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE.
Concessions Available. Tickets 1 Groat.
Come one, come all, come many, come some, come as you are, COME ON EILEEN TA LOO RAH HEY, oh just come why don't you- a crowd of literally tens expected.
Book early to avoid not being disappointed.
HIGHLIGHTS OF THIS EVENT WILL BE SHOWN ON-
SCRY SPATS
HOSTED AS EVER BY...
HAM SLAAD
TUNE CRYSTAL BALLS AND REFLECTING POOLS TO 107.3 MAGICHURTZ
SCRY THE FUTURE NOW, TOMORROW.
Please note in earlier press releases Ticket Prices appeared as 1 Groat, the actual price is 1 Goat. No kidding.
The Wannabe & Original Wednesday Knights.
SESSION XXXVII.
Chewsday 28th Mork 2000
By the Ghoulies.
Characters present
Zanakand Male Dwarf Fighter 2 (Kev. M.)
Greta Goldgarth Female Elven Priest of Corellan 2 (Wayne)
Fred Male Human Fighter 1 (Emma)
Lea Female Halfling Thief 2 (Erin)
The Wannabies spend an hour or so scouting around the now deserted underground, searching out any so far undiscovered nooks or crannies, alas their efforts go unrewarded. They return to the surface for tea- Lobster Tikka sandwiches, extra mayo for Zan.
Now to get back across the water-
Zan is showboating a little on the swim to the far shore- backstroke, eating a sandwich, with the mayo bowl balanced on his chest- when somebody/thing pulls at his skiddies (underpants) from below.
The Dwarf gargles something before sinking below the water, fortunately he has a rope tied around his waist, the others begin to pull him in. However the Lacedon has learnt his lesson, he’s brought a dagger with him for just such eventuality-
SAW SAW HACK HACK,
and then,
PING,
the rope shoots back knocking Fred off his feet.
“Bug’R”
Greta and Lea dive into the water- there follows a slightly dodgy (is there any other sort) DM decision.
Real (proper) DM’s look away now.
Greta spots the Aquatic Ghoul and quick draws her Holy Symbol of Corellan-
“Bluubble Blub Bluubbbba Blubble Blub Be Gone Foul Blubble.”
The Lacedon shrugs its shoulders, as if to say, “it’s a fair cop”, and scoots off.
Lea and Greta quickly scoop up the paralyzed Dwarf, who thanks to their quick reactions is alive. They surface and then swim safely to the other side of the lake, in a rush.
Thawsday 30th Mork 2000
There follows a fairly uneventful two-day journey back to civilisation, Arduat. There the Wannabies meet up with Jethro the Priest and return the relics they have found to the Church of Pelor, for their services they are rewarded $750. Alas though they have to give back the Longsword of Undead Slaying that Fred has really taken to.
“I wuz really gettin’ into dat.”
Greta pats the frustrated Fighter on the shoulder and promises to get him a bigger sword to play with later.
The above scenario is entitled “The Lost” from Mystic Alchemy Gameworks- I bet that’s not his real name. There will always be a place in my heart for Mr. Gameworks.
Fryday 31st Mork 2000
The Wannabies see a flyer-
CHEWSDAY 4th APRON 2000
THE CARIMOR GAMES
THE TOZAR BARBARIANS LED BY CHIEF EKE THUMP
VS
THE CARIMOR IMPERIAL GUARD (Except Alec, who’s wife’s run off with a travelling Holy Symbol salesman and left him looking after the kids.)
BARBARISM VS CIVILISATIONISM
OUR VALUE SYSTEM HANGS IN THE BALANCE.
THE REIGN OF CHAOS OR THE RULE OF LAW.
ICE CREAM AND CANDY FLOSS AVAILABLE.
THE MODERN PENTATHALON-
ARM WRESTLING.
THE GOBLIN TOSS.
ARCHERY.
DRINKING.
THE BIG LONG RUN OVER BUMPS AND JUMPS AND THAT.
Due to essential cutbacks the CARIMOR IMPERIAL GUARD numbers three (minus Alec), anyone wishing to join the guard should report to Major Mina at the Carimor Imperial Barracks at 32B (top flat, knock hard) the Grimes.
Printed by Guttenberg and Sons.
“Mmmm. I’ve got an idea forming in my brain…”
Fred lubricates the thought; a glistening trail of saliva hangs from his chin.
Meanwhile not a million miles away…
“Huh.”
“Huh.”
“What is it Bob? Are you having an idea?”
The big lug Ranger passes the flyer to Endrin, who scans it quickly then takes to smiling.
“Easy money… and the lay-dee-sssss.”
Chewsday 4th Apron 2000
Gurning for Gold.
Characters taking part in events
Bob Male Human Ranger 3 Priest of Kord 1 (Emma)
Cinch Male Goblin Monk 1 (Erin)
Endrin Male Human Bard 4 Sorcerer 2 (Wayne)
Felix Male Dwarf Deep Druid 1 Priest of Moradin 1 (Tomo)
Fred Male Human Fighter 1 (Emma)
Greta Goldgarth Female Elven Priest of Corellan 2 (Wayne)
Jerky Timbers Female Gnome Priest of Pelor 1 (Kev.M.)
Lea Female Halfling Thief 2 (Erin)
Liandri Male Elf Rogue 4 Wizard 2 (Kev.M.)
Mallaria Female Half-Elf Barbarian 2 Fighter 1 (Tomo)
Sayon Female Elf Rogue 1 Fighter 1 (Erin)
Whirlwind Male Human Fighter 2 (Wayne)
Zanakand Male Dwarf Fighter 2 (Kev.M.)
“I hereby declare these games going… on… started… oh just fire the bloody arrow will you.”
FHWOOSH… THUD… AAARRGGH.
“Sorrrrreee. I said we should have done this outside”
The PIG IN A POKE Inn is playing host to the first event,
“Tonight laydees and genlemen, direct to you via the magic of SCRY, I bring you the first annual CARIMOR Games.”
“My name is Ham Slaad and I’ll be your genial host for the next three days.”
“And so without any further ado… I can’t read that it’s too little… No… No… Next one… YEEESS ARM WRESTLING.”
“We join the event at a crucial stage, TUM THUNDER, one time Battle Group Leader of the Tozar Barbarians, latterly demoted for unprofessional behaviour in the arena of death. I think we all remember that incident don’t we, it won’t be necessary to conjure up those gore infected images, remember kids- Phil Collins- JUST SAY NO.”
“Versus Mallaria, the only Ex-Tozar Barbarian that’s still above ground, saving the three that tried to run away and now live nailed to Chief Eke Thump’s dining hut wall.”
“We join the action right at the beginning.”
“Oh lovely grimace from TUM, he’s gurning well… oh what’s this…”
“You gurl Elf die.”
“Everybody… IT TALKS.”
Mallaria inches down her tunic and slides her foot up the calf of the now goggle-eyed TUM.
“Mmmmm.”
Up past his knee.
“Urrrrrr.”
To his thigh.
“OooooooH.”
Then CRUNCH.
TUM folds in two, at the same moment his hand is slammed down onto the table.
“WE HAVE A WINNER… EVERYBODY PUT YOUR HANDS TOGETHER FOR MALLARIA- REMEMBER, LIFE’S THE DISEASE- MALLARIA’S THE CURE.”
“If I could just grab a word- Mallaria. Mallaria... Do you have anything to say to your fans on SCRY.”
“Everyone must die.”
“Lovely… keeping it real… Would you like to say anything about your chances of reaching the final?”
“Yes…”
After a while.
“What?”
“I kill everyone.”
“Thank you Mallaria, a big hand laydees and genlemen.”
The competition continues apace, in the Quarter Finals the results look like this-
DONK, Tozar Barbarian beats GRETA, Paladin (Wayne).
EKE THUMP, Tozar Barbarian Chief beats MALLARIA, Barbarian (Tomo).
LIANDRI, Rogue/Wizard (with Bull’s Strength) (Kev.M.) beats LOKI, Tozar Barbarian.
FRED, Fighter (Emma) beats BOB, Ranger (Emma).
Soon after the Semi-Final’s begin, although questions are being raised about the legitimacy of Liandri’s strength and parentage.
LIANDRI beats DONK
In a bout that lasts under thirty seconds the huge Half-Orc is slammed into the table, nearly lifted out of his chair.
“And you join us again laydees and genlemen at a crucial, and may I say, on a personal level, terrifying moment- LIANDRI, quite possibly the worst looking Elf in the forest- he hit every branch on the way down when he fell out of the ugly tree, has beaten the favourite DONK, the Tozar Barbarian. Listen to that crowd.”
“FICKS, FICX, FIYX, FYIX, FICS, PHICS, PHYKS.”
“The Tozar Barbarians laydees and genlemen, angry AND stupid- a deadly combination, I’m sure you’ll agree.”
“Liandri… Liandri, can a have a word, Ham Slaad, SCRY SPATS, to what do you attribute that massive victory…”
“I’ve been training hard over the past year or so Ham, really been putting in the hours, sometimes seven or eight times a day.”
“Do you have a regime?”
“No, I’ve a dirty mag from the Temple of All Conception, d’you wanna scan?”
“-“
“What d’you do, seven or eight times a day?”
“Wan…”
“AND NOW A WORD FROM OUR SPONSOR-
HOWLING AT THE MOON, SLAVERING FOR THE BLOOD OF VIRGINS- ARE YOU THE WOLFMAN?
TIRED OF COMING BACK FROM THE HUNT COVERED IN THE BLOOD AND ENTRAILS OF YOUR EVISCERATED VICTIMS- THE STENCH OF DEATH ALWAYS IN YOUR MANE.
TRY NEW “APRES CARNAGE” THE LATEST FRAGRANCE FOR WEREMEN.
“I smell great NOWOOOOOOOWWWOOOOWWWOOOOo.”
If you want to meet the IT Girl then Apres Carnage will make you the Where Man.
Warning may contain Paladins.
The second semi only makes things worse.
FRED beats EKE THUMP
Wouldn’t you know it kicks off…
An hour later.
“I’mn Hamn Slaa’Nd and ththis isth ththe FiNNnal, LiaNdrI, oh that HurrrTsth ta Tshay Versusth FrWeD. ThnanK Ynew. Ow. Cayn I Hav mI TeeF BaKk Now.”
LIANDRI VS. FRED
“You don’t stand a chance Fred, my mighty magics are more than a match for your seriously hugely muscled… Pelor they’re enormous, what’ve you been eating? Barbarians? Anyway, no matter…”
“Take the strain… after three Gentlemen.”
“You cannot hope to win…”
“ONE…”
“My magic will rule the day…”
“TWO…”
“I will crush you like the fly you…
“THREE- WE HAVE A WINNER.”
“FECK, FECK, Feck, bloody spell durations.”
“THE WINNER OF THE FIRST EVENT AND CARIMOR GAMES CHAMPION SO FAR… FFFFFFRRRRRRREEEEEEDDDDDDD.”
The place goes wild- actually he’s a popular winner, unassuming, not too bright, even the Tozar Barbarians are placated- he’s dense enough, he could be one of them.”
“Fred, FRED, FRED, Ham Slaad…”
“I’ve eaten Thank yew.”
“No, that’s my name. How do you feel?”
“With my hands, No. Like this…”
Fred rubs his belly and pats his head- at the same time.
“I meant, how do you feel right now- after your fantastic victory, over… well a cheat.”
“I feel a little dizzy…”
“The excitement?”
“No, new undies.”
“Anything else?”
“Over the moon.”
Fred looks up, a few seconds later he realises he can’t see the moon as it is hidden by the ceiling, and the other floor above.
“RIGHT. Well then… FRED. And now to fin…”
“Can I just say hello to someone?”
“Yeah sure. Go ahead champ.”
Fred turns away from Slaad and begins to wave at Lea at the bar,
“Hello.”
Then walks off.
“THE CARIMOR GAMES. EVERYONE. GO WILD. FOR IT.”
“Tomorrow… <BIG SIGH> MUCH more…”
THE CARIMOR GAMES BROUGHT TO YOU BY SCRY SPATS- BRINGING YOU ALL THE ACTION, TOMORROW NIGHT AT EIGHT “I SLEPT WITH MY MASTERS CONCUBINE”, FAMILIARS THAT GET A LITTLE TOO FAMILIAR…
Woodnesday 5th Apron 2000
Fly Goblin, fly.
The Goblin Toss begins-
On a sour note- DING, Half-Orc Tozar barbarian badly misjudges his throw and sends the screaming Goblin straight up in the air…
THUMP
And straight back down again, the Goblin alas is killed, Ding meanwhile retires with a migraine.
LOMAS, one of the two Imperial Guardsmen, is way ahead with a throw of 23 Goblin Lengths. The tension is palpable; the Tozar barbarians eat spice cakes and play Travel Scrabble (46 U’s and an R, the G’s gone missing).
“I’m Ham Slaad and you’re watching SCRY SPLATS, the final throw in the Goblin Toss… the crowd falls silent…”
“UR.”
“… you can cut the atmosphere with a two-handed sword.”
“UUR.”
“The final competitor takes his position.”
“UUUR.”
“Just Bob to throw.”
“UUUUR.”
“Making sure he hasn’t got too much blood on his hands… although I say you can never have TOO much blood on your hands…”
“UUUUUR.”
“He begins his spin.”
“UUUUUUR. Triple word score.”
“One revolution.”
“UR.”
“Two.”
“CLEVER. SIDEY WAYS ON. THINKIN’.”
“Three.”
“ME CHANGE THREE TILES.”
“There it goes laydees and genlemen.”
“UUR.”
“It’s flying.”
“CHEAT, UUR NOT WORD, IT SOUND.”
“Flying.”
“STOOPID BARBEAR… BARBUR… STOOPID.”
“It’s a long one.”
“WE BREEV UUR.”
“It’s coming down.”
“I FORT THERE WAZ ANUVER U IN UUUR?”
“It’s landed. It’s a long one… but surely not long enough.”
“STOOPID, UUUR IS ON YOR ED.”
“They’re measuring up… It’s still going to be short.”
“I THOUGHT THAT WAS UUUUR?”
“No, it’s going to be too short. But what’s this…”
“STOOPID, UUUUR IS WEN YOU REFERS TO A LAYDEE, LIKE- UUUUR, OVA DERRR.”
“The Goblins up… it’s not dead…”
“I FORT DAT WAS UUUUUR?”
“It’s running.”
Chief Eke, the smarter of the two Travel Scrabble players, gets up, draws his bow, and lets an arrow fly- all in one swift action.”
WHOOSH THUNK.
“A direct hit laydees and genlemen- the Goblin’s down, at 23 Goblin Lengths- we have a tie.”
“STOOPID, TOE UUUUUR IS UUMAN.”
“SORRY.”
“NO WORRY, IT COMPLEE… COMPLEED… COMPLYKAYTED.”
“YOU SED A MOWTHFULL.”
“UM. SLEEP NOW.”
Meanwhile Lomas beats Bob in the throw-off. Sayon (Erin) comes in third.
THE OVERALL POINTS CHAMPION AFTER TWO EVENTS IS BOB
Later the same existence…
“You join me now in what once was the idyllic village green of Carimor… now a scene of devastation. Already losing by a considerable margin the Tozar barbarians went off the deep end when Eke Thump, the tribal chief, came a cropper in the mounted archery. First the results from the normal… er standing… shooting, I mean archery… damn.”
“The prize for the er… standing… erm archery, a beautiful Masterwork Longbow went to Lea, the shor… sorry untall Halfling. The bullseye, which has never been struck before- it being only two smidgins in diameter- about the size of a pea, was hit not once, but twice by the plucky… d’ya get it, Halfling. Lea had this to say shortly after the moment of her victory…”
“I can’t reach?”
“Special. Then the terrible events of what seems like not long ago, but was in fact just now…”
“As you can see on the SCRY CAM REPLAY, Chief Eke Thump begins his final charge- only needing to score a point to beat the smug looking Liandri, that’s him in the background folks.”
“Then. This happened, look away if you are of a nervous disposition, or are an animal lover- not in the strictest sense of the words… I think you know what I mean.”
Eke spurs his horse on towards the target and the shooting line, a perfect combination of man and beast, oh alright- beast and beast working in unison.
“Here it is listen closely…”
“PHATTY.”
“That’s the point when magicians within the gathered crowd detected the use of magicness, later identified as a Ghost Sound spell, originating from somewhere behind and to the left of the Chief, somewhere near the grassy Gnoll. The grassy Gnoll, with very Elven features- incredibly ugly Elven features, but Elven features nevertheless.”
“Zapruda, the Gnomish Savant postulated that this figure was in fact Liandri cleverly disguised as a grassy Gnoll- if you look carefully you can see the Bulrushes sticking out of his pants.”
“Then this happened. Roll VT.”
Eke, startled, turns swiftly behind, as the horse bows its head to allow the Chief to gain a clear line of sight.
Eke loses his balance, badly, and is catapulted over the horses head- he fires his arrow.
It strikes home.
Killing the horse instantly.
The horse ploughs on into the Chief- specifically Eke’s face.
CRUNCH.
The huge human barbarian slumps to the floor, his head hitting the dirt in slo-mo, then lies still.
For exactly one second.
He raises himself up, shakes his head, looks in the general direction of the grassy Gnoll and screams the feared Tozar barbarian battle cry-
<CENSORED> ‘em.
“Needless to say death and destruction followed- innocent lives lost, for what… nothing. Let’s ask Chief Eke- Chief, ah I see an Axe. Chief er, it is a big Axe isn’t it? Chief- do you have anything to say to the loved ones of those that met their maker, or to be precise, their unmaker- this afternoon? Chief?”
“I… UUUUUR.”
“You heard it here first on SCRY SPATS, or should that be SPLATS… you’ve gotta laugh or else you’ll die.”
“And so Liandri wins the Mounted Archery, and by my reckoning the cheeky Elf with a face like a bulldog stung by a wasp is the overall points winner so far with one event left today- the DRINKING. Oh you’ve gotta admire the gumption of the young… No Chief… ChIEf… No please- not the face. Till… Oh my Pelor… Next… Aaaargghh aaarrrgghhh NOOOOOOO Argh Argh… TurnARRRRRGGGHHHHHH.
And so endeth Turn 37.
Next Turn… A Quiet Pint.
SESSION XXXVII.
Chewsday 28th Mork 2000
By the Ghoulies.
Characters present
Zanakand Male Dwarf Fighter 2 (Kev. M.)
Greta Goldgarth Female Elven Priest of Corellan 2 (Wayne)
Fred Male Human Fighter 1 (Emma)
Lea Female Halfling Thief 2 (Erin)
The Wannabies spend an hour or so scouting around the now deserted underground, searching out any so far undiscovered nooks or crannies, alas their efforts go unrewarded. They return to the surface for tea- Lobster Tikka sandwiches, extra mayo for Zan.
Now to get back across the water-
Zan is showboating a little on the swim to the far shore- backstroke, eating a sandwich, with the mayo bowl balanced on his chest- when somebody/thing pulls at his skiddies (underpants) from below.
The Dwarf gargles something before sinking below the water, fortunately he has a rope tied around his waist, the others begin to pull him in. However the Lacedon has learnt his lesson, he’s brought a dagger with him for just such eventuality-
SAW SAW HACK HACK,
and then,
PING,
the rope shoots back knocking Fred off his feet.
“Bug’R”
Greta and Lea dive into the water- there follows a slightly dodgy (is there any other sort) DM decision.
Real (proper) DM’s look away now.
Greta spots the Aquatic Ghoul and quick draws her Holy Symbol of Corellan-
“Bluubble Blub Bluubbbba Blubble Blub Be Gone Foul Blubble.”
The Lacedon shrugs its shoulders, as if to say, “it’s a fair cop”, and scoots off.
Lea and Greta quickly scoop up the paralyzed Dwarf, who thanks to their quick reactions is alive. They surface and then swim safely to the other side of the lake, in a rush.
Thawsday 30th Mork 2000
There follows a fairly uneventful two-day journey back to civilisation, Arduat. There the Wannabies meet up with Jethro the Priest and return the relics they have found to the Church of Pelor, for their services they are rewarded $750. Alas though they have to give back the Longsword of Undead Slaying that Fred has really taken to.
“I wuz really gettin’ into dat.”
Greta pats the frustrated Fighter on the shoulder and promises to get him a bigger sword to play with later.
The above scenario is entitled “The Lost” from Mystic Alchemy Gameworks- I bet that’s not his real name. There will always be a place in my heart for Mr. Gameworks.
Fryday 31st Mork 2000
The Wannabies see a flyer-
CHEWSDAY 4th APRON 2000
THE CARIMOR GAMES
THE TOZAR BARBARIANS LED BY CHIEF EKE THUMP
VS
THE CARIMOR IMPERIAL GUARD (Except Alec, who’s wife’s run off with a travelling Holy Symbol salesman and left him looking after the kids.)
BARBARISM VS CIVILISATIONISM
OUR VALUE SYSTEM HANGS IN THE BALANCE.
THE REIGN OF CHAOS OR THE RULE OF LAW.
ICE CREAM AND CANDY FLOSS AVAILABLE.
THE MODERN PENTATHALON-
ARM WRESTLING.
THE GOBLIN TOSS.
ARCHERY.
DRINKING.
THE BIG LONG RUN OVER BUMPS AND JUMPS AND THAT.
Due to essential cutbacks the CARIMOR IMPERIAL GUARD numbers three (minus Alec), anyone wishing to join the guard should report to Major Mina at the Carimor Imperial Barracks at 32B (top flat, knock hard) the Grimes.
Printed by Guttenberg and Sons.
“Mmmm. I’ve got an idea forming in my brain…”
Fred lubricates the thought; a glistening trail of saliva hangs from his chin.
Meanwhile not a million miles away…
“Huh.”
“Huh.”
“What is it Bob? Are you having an idea?”
The big lug Ranger passes the flyer to Endrin, who scans it quickly then takes to smiling.
“Easy money… and the lay-dee-sssss.”
Chewsday 4th Apron 2000
Gurning for Gold.
Characters taking part in events
Bob Male Human Ranger 3 Priest of Kord 1 (Emma)
Cinch Male Goblin Monk 1 (Erin)
Endrin Male Human Bard 4 Sorcerer 2 (Wayne)
Felix Male Dwarf Deep Druid 1 Priest of Moradin 1 (Tomo)
Fred Male Human Fighter 1 (Emma)
Greta Goldgarth Female Elven Priest of Corellan 2 (Wayne)
Jerky Timbers Female Gnome Priest of Pelor 1 (Kev.M.)
Lea Female Halfling Thief 2 (Erin)
Liandri Male Elf Rogue 4 Wizard 2 (Kev.M.)
Mallaria Female Half-Elf Barbarian 2 Fighter 1 (Tomo)
Sayon Female Elf Rogue 1 Fighter 1 (Erin)
Whirlwind Male Human Fighter 2 (Wayne)
Zanakand Male Dwarf Fighter 2 (Kev.M.)
“I hereby declare these games going… on… started… oh just fire the bloody arrow will you.”
FHWOOSH… THUD… AAARRGGH.
“Sorrrrreee. I said we should have done this outside”
The PIG IN A POKE Inn is playing host to the first event,
“Tonight laydees and genlemen, direct to you via the magic of SCRY, I bring you the first annual CARIMOR Games.”
“My name is Ham Slaad and I’ll be your genial host for the next three days.”
“And so without any further ado… I can’t read that it’s too little… No… No… Next one… YEEESS ARM WRESTLING.”
“We join the event at a crucial stage, TUM THUNDER, one time Battle Group Leader of the Tozar Barbarians, latterly demoted for unprofessional behaviour in the arena of death. I think we all remember that incident don’t we, it won’t be necessary to conjure up those gore infected images, remember kids- Phil Collins- JUST SAY NO.”
“Versus Mallaria, the only Ex-Tozar Barbarian that’s still above ground, saving the three that tried to run away and now live nailed to Chief Eke Thump’s dining hut wall.”
“We join the action right at the beginning.”
“Oh lovely grimace from TUM, he’s gurning well… oh what’s this…”
“You gurl Elf die.”
“Everybody… IT TALKS.”
Mallaria inches down her tunic and slides her foot up the calf of the now goggle-eyed TUM.
“Mmmmm.”
Up past his knee.
“Urrrrrr.”
To his thigh.
“OooooooH.”
Then CRUNCH.
TUM folds in two, at the same moment his hand is slammed down onto the table.
“WE HAVE A WINNER… EVERYBODY PUT YOUR HANDS TOGETHER FOR MALLARIA- REMEMBER, LIFE’S THE DISEASE- MALLARIA’S THE CURE.”
“If I could just grab a word- Mallaria. Mallaria... Do you have anything to say to your fans on SCRY.”
“Everyone must die.”
“Lovely… keeping it real… Would you like to say anything about your chances of reaching the final?”
“Yes…”
After a while.
“What?”
“I kill everyone.”
“Thank you Mallaria, a big hand laydees and genlemen.”
The competition continues apace, in the Quarter Finals the results look like this-
DONK, Tozar Barbarian beats GRETA, Paladin (Wayne).
EKE THUMP, Tozar Barbarian Chief beats MALLARIA, Barbarian (Tomo).
LIANDRI, Rogue/Wizard (with Bull’s Strength) (Kev.M.) beats LOKI, Tozar Barbarian.
FRED, Fighter (Emma) beats BOB, Ranger (Emma).
Soon after the Semi-Final’s begin, although questions are being raised about the legitimacy of Liandri’s strength and parentage.
LIANDRI beats DONK
In a bout that lasts under thirty seconds the huge Half-Orc is slammed into the table, nearly lifted out of his chair.
“And you join us again laydees and genlemen at a crucial, and may I say, on a personal level, terrifying moment- LIANDRI, quite possibly the worst looking Elf in the forest- he hit every branch on the way down when he fell out of the ugly tree, has beaten the favourite DONK, the Tozar Barbarian. Listen to that crowd.”
“FICKS, FICX, FIYX, FYIX, FICS, PHICS, PHYKS.”
“The Tozar Barbarians laydees and genlemen, angry AND stupid- a deadly combination, I’m sure you’ll agree.”
“Liandri… Liandri, can a have a word, Ham Slaad, SCRY SPATS, to what do you attribute that massive victory…”
“I’ve been training hard over the past year or so Ham, really been putting in the hours, sometimes seven or eight times a day.”
“Do you have a regime?”
“No, I’ve a dirty mag from the Temple of All Conception, d’you wanna scan?”
“-“
“What d’you do, seven or eight times a day?”
“Wan…”
“AND NOW A WORD FROM OUR SPONSOR-
HOWLING AT THE MOON, SLAVERING FOR THE BLOOD OF VIRGINS- ARE YOU THE WOLFMAN?
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“I smell great NOWOOOOOOOWWWOOOOWWWOOOOo.”
If you want to meet the IT Girl then Apres Carnage will make you the Where Man.
Warning may contain Paladins.
The second semi only makes things worse.
FRED beats EKE THUMP
Wouldn’t you know it kicks off…
An hour later.
“I’mn Hamn Slaa’Nd and ththis isth ththe FiNNnal, LiaNdrI, oh that HurrrTsth ta Tshay Versusth FrWeD. ThnanK Ynew. Ow. Cayn I Hav mI TeeF BaKk Now.”
LIANDRI VS. FRED
“You don’t stand a chance Fred, my mighty magics are more than a match for your seriously hugely muscled… Pelor they’re enormous, what’ve you been eating? Barbarians? Anyway, no matter…”
“Take the strain… after three Gentlemen.”
“You cannot hope to win…”
“ONE…”
“My magic will rule the day…”
“TWO…”
“I will crush you like the fly you…
“THREE- WE HAVE A WINNER.”
“FECK, FECK, Feck, bloody spell durations.”
“THE WINNER OF THE FIRST EVENT AND CARIMOR GAMES CHAMPION SO FAR… FFFFFFRRRRRRREEEEEEDDDDDDD.”
The place goes wild- actually he’s a popular winner, unassuming, not too bright, even the Tozar Barbarians are placated- he’s dense enough, he could be one of them.”
“Fred, FRED, FRED, Ham Slaad…”
“I’ve eaten Thank yew.”
“No, that’s my name. How do you feel?”
“With my hands, No. Like this…”
Fred rubs his belly and pats his head- at the same time.
“I meant, how do you feel right now- after your fantastic victory, over… well a cheat.”
“I feel a little dizzy…”
“The excitement?”
“No, new undies.”
“Anything else?”
“Over the moon.”
Fred looks up, a few seconds later he realises he can’t see the moon as it is hidden by the ceiling, and the other floor above.
“RIGHT. Well then… FRED. And now to fin…”
“Can I just say hello to someone?”
“Yeah sure. Go ahead champ.”
Fred turns away from Slaad and begins to wave at Lea at the bar,
“Hello.”
Then walks off.
“THE CARIMOR GAMES. EVERYONE. GO WILD. FOR IT.”
“Tomorrow… <BIG SIGH> MUCH more…”
THE CARIMOR GAMES BROUGHT TO YOU BY SCRY SPATS- BRINGING YOU ALL THE ACTION, TOMORROW NIGHT AT EIGHT “I SLEPT WITH MY MASTERS CONCUBINE”, FAMILIARS THAT GET A LITTLE TOO FAMILIAR…
Woodnesday 5th Apron 2000
Fly Goblin, fly.
The Goblin Toss begins-
On a sour note- DING, Half-Orc Tozar barbarian badly misjudges his throw and sends the screaming Goblin straight up in the air…
THUMP
And straight back down again, the Goblin alas is killed, Ding meanwhile retires with a migraine.
LOMAS, one of the two Imperial Guardsmen, is way ahead with a throw of 23 Goblin Lengths. The tension is palpable; the Tozar barbarians eat spice cakes and play Travel Scrabble (46 U’s and an R, the G’s gone missing).
“I’m Ham Slaad and you’re watching SCRY SPLATS, the final throw in the Goblin Toss… the crowd falls silent…”
“UR.”
“… you can cut the atmosphere with a two-handed sword.”
“UUR.”
“The final competitor takes his position.”
“UUUR.”
“Just Bob to throw.”
“UUUUR.”
“Making sure he hasn’t got too much blood on his hands… although I say you can never have TOO much blood on your hands…”
“UUUUUR.”
“He begins his spin.”
“UUUUUUR. Triple word score.”
“One revolution.”
“UR.”
“Two.”
“CLEVER. SIDEY WAYS ON. THINKIN’.”
“Three.”
“ME CHANGE THREE TILES.”
“There it goes laydees and genlemen.”
“UUR.”
“It’s flying.”
“CHEAT, UUR NOT WORD, IT SOUND.”
“Flying.”
“STOOPID BARBEAR… BARBUR… STOOPID.”
“It’s a long one.”
“WE BREEV UUR.”
“It’s coming down.”
“I FORT THERE WAZ ANUVER U IN UUUR?”
“It’s landed. It’s a long one… but surely not long enough.”
“STOOPID, UUUR IS ON YOR ED.”
“They’re measuring up… It’s still going to be short.”
“I THOUGHT THAT WAS UUUUR?”
“No, it’s going to be too short. But what’s this…”
“STOOPID, UUUUR IS WEN YOU REFERS TO A LAYDEE, LIKE- UUUUR, OVA DERRR.”
“The Goblins up… it’s not dead…”
“I FORT DAT WAS UUUUUR?”
“It’s running.”
Chief Eke, the smarter of the two Travel Scrabble players, gets up, draws his bow, and lets an arrow fly- all in one swift action.”
WHOOSH THUNK.
“A direct hit laydees and genlemen- the Goblin’s down, at 23 Goblin Lengths- we have a tie.”
“STOOPID, TOE UUUUUR IS UUMAN.”
“SORRY.”
“NO WORRY, IT COMPLEE… COMPLEED… COMPLYKAYTED.”
“YOU SED A MOWTHFULL.”
“UM. SLEEP NOW.”
Meanwhile Lomas beats Bob in the throw-off. Sayon (Erin) comes in third.
THE OVERALL POINTS CHAMPION AFTER TWO EVENTS IS BOB
Later the same existence…
“You join me now in what once was the idyllic village green of Carimor… now a scene of devastation. Already losing by a considerable margin the Tozar barbarians went off the deep end when Eke Thump, the tribal chief, came a cropper in the mounted archery. First the results from the normal… er standing… shooting, I mean archery… damn.”
“The prize for the er… standing… erm archery, a beautiful Masterwork Longbow went to Lea, the shor… sorry untall Halfling. The bullseye, which has never been struck before- it being only two smidgins in diameter- about the size of a pea, was hit not once, but twice by the plucky… d’ya get it, Halfling. Lea had this to say shortly after the moment of her victory…”
“I can’t reach?”
“Special. Then the terrible events of what seems like not long ago, but was in fact just now…”
“As you can see on the SCRY CAM REPLAY, Chief Eke Thump begins his final charge- only needing to score a point to beat the smug looking Liandri, that’s him in the background folks.”
“Then. This happened, look away if you are of a nervous disposition, or are an animal lover- not in the strictest sense of the words… I think you know what I mean.”
Eke spurs his horse on towards the target and the shooting line, a perfect combination of man and beast, oh alright- beast and beast working in unison.
“Here it is listen closely…”
“PHATTY.”
“That’s the point when magicians within the gathered crowd detected the use of magicness, later identified as a Ghost Sound spell, originating from somewhere behind and to the left of the Chief, somewhere near the grassy Gnoll. The grassy Gnoll, with very Elven features- incredibly ugly Elven features, but Elven features nevertheless.”
“Zapruda, the Gnomish Savant postulated that this figure was in fact Liandri cleverly disguised as a grassy Gnoll- if you look carefully you can see the Bulrushes sticking out of his pants.”
“Then this happened. Roll VT.”
Eke, startled, turns swiftly behind, as the horse bows its head to allow the Chief to gain a clear line of sight.
Eke loses his balance, badly, and is catapulted over the horses head- he fires his arrow.
It strikes home.
Killing the horse instantly.
The horse ploughs on into the Chief- specifically Eke’s face.
CRUNCH.
The huge human barbarian slumps to the floor, his head hitting the dirt in slo-mo, then lies still.
For exactly one second.
He raises himself up, shakes his head, looks in the general direction of the grassy Gnoll and screams the feared Tozar barbarian battle cry-
<CENSORED> ‘em.
“Needless to say death and destruction followed- innocent lives lost, for what… nothing. Let’s ask Chief Eke- Chief, ah I see an Axe. Chief er, it is a big Axe isn’t it? Chief- do you have anything to say to the loved ones of those that met their maker, or to be precise, their unmaker- this afternoon? Chief?”
“I… UUUUUR.”
“You heard it here first on SCRY SPATS, or should that be SPLATS… you’ve gotta laugh or else you’ll die.”
“And so Liandri wins the Mounted Archery, and by my reckoning the cheeky Elf with a face like a bulldog stung by a wasp is the overall points winner so far with one event left today- the DRINKING. Oh you’ve gotta admire the gumption of the young… No Chief… ChIEf… No please- not the face. Till… Oh my Pelor… Next… Aaaargghh aaarrrgghhh NOOOOOOO Argh Argh… TurnARRRRRGGGHHHHHH.
And so endeth Turn 37.
Next Turn… A Quiet Pint.
The Wannabe & Original Wednesday Knights.
SESSION XXXVIII.
Woodnesday 5th Apron 2000
A Quiet Pint.
Characters taking part in events
Bob Male Human Ranger 3 Priest of Kord 1 (Emma)
Cinch Male Goblin Monk 1 (Erin)
Endrin Male Human Bard 4 Sorcerer 2 (Wayne)
Felix Male Dwarf Deep Druid 1 Priest of Moradin 1 (Tomo)
Fred Male Human Fighter 1 (Emma)
Greta Goldgarth Female Elven Priest of Corellan 2 (Wayne)
Jerky Timbers Female Gnome Priest of Pelor 1 (Kev.M.)
Lea Female Halfling Thief 2 (Erin)
Liandri Male Elf Rogue 4 Wizard 2 (Kev.M.)
Mallaria Female Half-Elf Barbarian 2 Fighter 1 (Tomo)
Sayon Female Elf Rogue 1 Fighter 1 (Erin)
Whirlwind Male Human Fighter 2 (Wayne)
Zanakand Male Dwarf Fighter 2 (Kev.M.)
“I’m Ham Slaad and your watching SCRY SPATS the foremost purveyor of quality tussling in all forms. We’re here tonight in the Pig-in-a-Poke Inn, Carimor for the DRINKING, which no doubt if the form book runs true, will climax in the SCUFFLING, and if we’re very lucky the SCUFFLING WITH SWORDS.”
“Well as you can see behind me the competition is pretty well advanced- so let’s catch up with some of the previous events of the evening.”
“Oh, you’ll like this one- priceless.”
Cinch, a Goblin Monk, with no knowledge or understanding of alcohol stands in the centre of the bar, grinning like a fool- apt really. He swigs at huge foaming mug, each time he comes up for air he looks a little less sure of himself- the smile begins to slip.
A minute later the mug is slammed down on the table in front of the Goblin, the creature summons up a strange smile then topples forward almost at attention. The Goblins skull makes contact with the table.
CRACK
The table breaks apart, cleanly cleft in two- the Monk does not stir.
“HI-YAH KARATE. What a way to go… but Cinch wasn’t the only one…”
Guntha, a huge Orc Barbarian, pitches forward and into the replacement table, which has been moved back considerably- just not far enough however.
CRACK
The table does not break; the Barbarian slowly sits up and smiles.
“I’m s’all s’right.”
He whistles through a massive gap where his front teeth once were. The lost pegs are the shown embedded in the edge of the table.
“Crazy guys these Tozar Barbarian- they’ll eat anything- very toothsome the tables around here… Huh huh just my little joke. Next up, or should I say, down…”
Jerky Timbers, a slight (emaciated) Gnome Priest of Pelor, looks confused- then topples forward.
THUNK
Missing the edge of the table by three or four feet.
“Close but no cigar, still those three fared better than this father and son team, still they looked better for it at the end- just watch.”
Two dishevelled, extremely corpulent and, of course, inebriated members of the Carimor farming community shuffle and smile as the home crowd spurs them on. They each clutch small glasses of bright red liquid, which steam slightly.
They swig down their drinks in unison, swallow, turn and nod to each other and then back to the crowd and smile broadly holding their glasses aloft in victory.
The larger of the two, obviously the father of the pairing, goes to shout something, instead a Technicolor yawn of titanic proportions jets out across the crowd.
The son turns to his father and goes to speak- you can imagine the results.
The scene shifts and lurches, the sound track a mess of belching, farting and vomiting- over low level screams.
“An hour later the Carimor Games Safety Inspector declared the Inn safe to return to, over fifty gallons of acidic bile were swilled from the Bar- you’ll be pleased to see however…”
The same father and son team shuffles into view each a good hundred pounds lighter- stick-like.
“… That all’s well that ends well. The way these two were going I thought their chances of survival were, well, slim. How are you feeling guys?”
“SqFineeak.”
“SqSmashingeak.”
“Good to hear gents. But that wasn’t the end of it- no way, check out this guy.”
The action has moved to outside the Inn, clean up crews beaver away in the background sweeping out lakes of bubbling liquid that smoke gently- the odd hiccup and belch can still be heard from within the Inn.
Endrin stands in the centre of a ring of eager onlookers, he holds a glowing crystal goblet of gently fizzing pale wine. He raises his glass and makes his toast.
“For all the women I’ve loved before, as I said at the time…”
He scans the crowd making numerous nods, winks and glances- a chorus of farmers wives and daughters turn away and flush in response.”
“… Bottoms up.”
In two gulps the wine is gone. Endrin stands tall and lifts the wine glass high in salute, shrill cheers fogged by deep voiced grumblings.
Endrins smile lasts, despite the white foam that starts as a drip and then rapidly progresses to a waterfall fizzing from his mouth.
“I F’ay. Fotts Fiss. FOTTS FFAPPENING.”
Endrin, now two thirds foam, slumps to the ground and begins to flop and wriggle like a fish out of water, all the time spurts of foam fountain and splash.
“FfuFFing Fto Fwurry Fabout. FI’me FFFine.”
The laughter is deep and booming, with a background of tutted sympathy.
“Hey guy, where’s the fire? Endrin the Bard- an entertainer to the end. But it didn’t end there- we’ve got some hidden footage of Endrin’s later explanations to a gang of irate farmers what exactly he had been doing with their significant others- watch out for the haymaker from the huge hayseed on the right.”
POW
Endrin’s face is shown in extreme close up as if slammed up against some clear screen.
“I’m afraid we’ve gotta cut the highlights show there, we’re live now, back in the Pig-in-a-Poke Inn. It’s the semi-final, the Tozar barbarians have dominated this event, as we expected, in fact the semi-finalists are all Tozar. Dunk, Bukowski, Chief Eke Thump and wait for it, Mallaria.”
The four semi-finalist eye each other suspiciously- actually three to one, the Tozars stare at the ex-Tozar, Mallaria- grins and waves back at each in turn, they fume back.
Four small purple shot glasses are brought out- seconds later all four are drunk.
The three barbarians- fizz and yap while pulling strange, unpleasant, faces.
NeeeeAAAtT YATTT TARRR
MEE-MOO MEE-MOO
WADA WADA WADA WADA
Finally they straighten and turn to stare at the unmoving Mallaria- statue still, glass in hand.
Eventually, the crowd hushes…
BROOCK BROK BROK BRRROOOOK BROK BROK
Mallaria moves off at a staccato pace, delicately lifting her legs and placing them carefully and deliberately back down again; hands tucked into her armpits, flapping like wings. She stalks the circle made by the crowd- pecking, the laughter begins.
The barbarians fold their arms over their chests and settle back to enjoy the scene. Mallaria continues her merry dance- clucking and squawking all the while.
She cosies up to Eke eventually squatting at the huge barbarian chief’s feet.
BRRRRRRROOOOOOOOCK BBBBBBRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOK
Eke looks down; still wracked with laughter, at the straining Mallaria, the crowd continue to scream their delight.
BRK!
Mallaria shuffles off her perch quickly.
The ripple of the crowd’s laughter begins to turn into gasps and silence.
Till only Eke continues to laugh- long and loud, finally he notices the surrounding silence- he looks down to see, incapable of laying an egg Mallaria has done the best she can- in the circumstances.
A wisp of steam curls upwards.
The image lurches violently a huge roar from the desecrated Chieftain.
RRRRRRAAAAAAYYYYYGGGEEEE
Imagine Tyson versus a fine British Athlete- Jayne Torvill, maybe. You get the picture.
Sometime later.
“Well after that monumental battering it was decided to make Chief Eke Thump the winner of the event, there seemed little point in continuing with the competition, particularly as Chief Eke Thump has confirmed that he had won. So that’s settled then, a clear victory for the Tozar barbarians, a clean sweep of the medals.”
“Well it’s 2 AM here at the Pig-in-a-Poke, Carimor. We’ve seen some top action, some premier scuffling and projectile vomiting the like of which hasn’t been seen since that infamous PHIL COLLINS incident. The competition is on a knife-edge; with that last 1-2-3 the Tozar barbarians are only a point adrift and are clear favourites for the final event. In the individual competition it’s still too close to call- it’s Liandri and Eke tied in first with Bob and Donk closely following them.”
“So till tomorrow, 11 AM and the Big Run over Jumps and Bumps and that, the final hurdle as it were, this’ll separate the men from the boys, the cooks from the broth, the gathering stone from its moss.”
“You’ve been watching Ham Slaad on SCRY SPATS- remember, to be in with a fighting chance watch SCRY SPATS. G’night and sleep tight, and don’t have nightmares.”
Thorsday 6th Apron 2000
We interrupt this broadcast.
Characters present
Bob Male Human Ranger 3 Priest of Kord 1 (Emma)
Fred Male Human Fighter 1 (Emma)
Jerky Timbers Female Gnome Priest of Pelor 1 (Kev.M.)
Liandri Male Elf Rogue 4 Wizard 2 (Kev.M.)
Mallaria Female Half-Elf Barbarian 2 Fighter 1 (Tomo)
Sayon Female Elf Rogue 1 Fighter 1 (Erin)
Zanakand Male Dwarf Fighter 2 (Kev.M.)
“It’s not tomorrow, it can’t be I haven’t slept yet.”
Zan is roughly shaken awake, it’s 4 AM in the morning, many of the competing adventurers have had just two hours sleep- for others, in the thick of last night’s action like Mallaria & Endrin, there’s been no rest- their wounds having prevented them from sleeping at all.
“We need help, please,”
Arthur Tremble, the proprietor of the Inn gathers any adventurers that he can rouse, minutes later the group assemble in the bar, talking in whispers as they complete their dress. There are some monster hangovers present.
“I’m sorry to wake you.”
SHAAARRRGGHHSHHH
SHHHHFECKSHHH
“Oh, right.”
Arthur switches to a loud whisper; the seven adventurers huddle around to hear.
“Four farmers went looking for a goat this evening- they told their friends that it had been stolen and they had found tracks and were going to follow them and get it back, they’d been drinking, and foolishly left with only an hours worth of light left. We’ve only just discovered they’re still missing, they’ve been gone for hours now, and… well one of them’s my brother. I tried to wait for the morning, but I can’t- I’ll give free food and board for as long as you live to any of you, all of you- if you can get him back safely. I’m so sorry to wake you… I had to ask, please, pl…”
Arthur begins to break down and cry.
“We’ll find them.”
Bob steps forward, followed by Jerky, Fred, Sayon, Zan, Liandri and finally Mallaria, who’s in no state to go anywhere.
“Mallaria, you shouldn’t…”
GRRRR
“Ok, but take it easy.”
Bob shrugs and catches up with All Star Wednesday Knights, as they in turn follow Arthur to the goat pens. Torches and lanterns are lit en-route.
A little later, at the goat pen.
Mallaria squats next to Bob, the two look at each-
“Ogre.”
The tracks lead out of Carimor, naturally, Arthur is sent back to the Inn and the Knights head off.
Just short of an hour later the Knights are spread around a low rise looking down into a stony area with a cave on the far side- a fire burns in the entrance and Liandri is certain he can see a figure hunched in the darkness. Every now and then a goat or sheep can be heard bleating.
Liandri is sent forward to check out the lay of the land- five minutes later he signals to the Knights and Mallaria steps up to the plate.
She shuffles her way forward into the rocky clearing and towards the fire, the hunched figure straightens and steps into the light, dressed in simple leathers, the young human squints at Mallaria as she approaches.
“Who goes there? Who are you? I’m armed.”
“My name’s Mallaria, I hope it’s not you that’s got my goat.”
The young guy looks up as Liandri stumbles about to launch himself at the human.
“JERRY.”
He screams and then runs into the cave- cover blown the Knights quickly emerge from hiding and hotfoot it down to the cave. Once there they draw weapons and creep forward.
“I think I can hear something.”
Bursting from the cave entrance comes a pair of goats moving at high speed, followed by three sheep at a fast trot, one crashes into Zan sending the pair thudding to the ground.
The Dwarf wrestles the ram for a short time before it gets free and charges off.
Thirty seconds of heart stopping silence follow punctuated by the loping slap of something much larger approaching from the cave.
“Ogre.”
The Knights ready themselves for the onslaught.
CLOP
CLOP
A bemused cow appears in the firelight, and wanders, seemingly without a concern in the world, through the statue like line of fighters- who simply stare, trying not to giggle.
RRRRRaaaaaaaRRRRRR
The Ogre charges out of the cave mouth, a huge club in one hand- it swats at the flatfooted Knights.
Sadly the Ogre misses.
A dagger whizzes out of the darkness certain to bury itself in Mallaria’s gut, that is until the barbarian at the last moment flings herself right… the dagger passes harmlessly by.
However in avoidance Mallaria crashes into the wall of the cave mouth and “lights out”, slumps to the floor.
Liandri sees his chance and leaps down, narrowly missing the Ogre, however he lands softly and silently behind the creature- next time.
The other Knights unfreeze- Jerky, Holy Symbol in hand, fires of a Cause Fear spell which has an instant effect.
MMMMMMMMMMUUUUUUUUUMMMMMMMMMMM
The Ogre jumps backwards
AAGH
Knocking over Liandri and for a second crushing him underfoot, the Elf sucks in air and curls into a ball.
The young human goat thief sees his opportunity and bursts from the cave and through the Knights line, in the hole left by the downed Mallaria.
The Ogre quickly finds his senses, as the other Knights close in- it looks down to see Liandri, still curled in a ball- nothing else for it. The giant kicks the Elf, who skids, slides and tumbles into the fire.
AAAAAARRRRGGGGHHHHHH.
Jerky quickly drags Liandri from the conflagration, beating the flames out to leave charred and singed patches in the Elf’s armour and clothes.
Zan is slightly wounded, and Bob takes a nick but the result is never in doubt, the Ogre is quickly slain.
The cave lair is empty, apart from the collected faeces of the mini-stampede. In short a dead end.
The Knights grab hold of Mallaria and Liandri and head for Carimor as fast as they can.
5.30 AM and the Knights, sans Mallaria, who’s been put back to bed, are stood again in the bar of the Inn, listening intently to Arthur’s four year old son-
“Then they ad annuver drink, an Uncle Alan said something about the frogging goat, no that’s no it, more like frugging goat… I can’t remember. Then one of the others, the tall one, the one that smells like that cheese, anyway he said that the broody goat was gone- then they started pushing, and one of them swore… he did, not Uncle Alan though.”
“And then?”
“Can I have a biscuit?”
“After.”
“Can I have two biscuits?”
“Yes, after, what happened next?”
“Can I have some jam?”
“ – “
Liandri steps between Arthur and his lad, picks the kid up and pins him to the wall with one hand, while in the other a gleaming stiletto dagger appears,
“Tell me where they went.”
“Theyleftinacarttheywentonthesouthroadandthenwentcrosscountry.”
"Thank you.”
Liandri drops the kid who begins to ball his eyes out. Arthur steps forward.
“You bastard, I’m going to…”
“Get your brother back, hopefully, out the way.”
Liandri strides off, the Knights mouth apologies and follow after.
Ten minutes later they’ve followed deep rutted cart tracks to a strange spot which in the half-light of the rising sun seems to have seen some action.
“They were ambushed, here, three- maybe more, there’s no blood- there wasn’t much of a struggle.”
The others look on as Bob goes to work.
“Soon after they turned the cart round and headed off… in that direction, the horses remained calm throughout. We follow.”
Bob points and then head down leads off, they follow the trail for twenty more minutes when Bob quickly signals for them to stop, then hide.
Four figures appear moving through the brush, they get close enough for Bob to recognise them, they’re locals.
“Hold. Where are you heading?”
The four farmers recognise the Ranger and the other Knights from the games.
“There are men moving through the land, a little to the West of here, we were looking for our friends when we spotted them. Have you found anything?”
“Your friends were ambushed back there, we’re following cart tracks, see. The men you saw- did they have a cart? How many of them were there? Which direction were they heading?”
“No there was no cart, they were moving very slowly, like old men. There were four of them with hooded robes. I think they were heading west,”
“Mmm, a similar direction to the cart tracks, clearly they’re not the men we seek. Liandri go with these men and see what you can see, then return here and follow after us- quickly, You people take Liandri to where you last saw these men- then return him here, then go back to Carimor- it very busy out here tonight- not a place for farmers.”
And so Liandri heads off with the farmers soon to discover the temporary camp of four robed figures who are taking tea, hooded and cloaked against the cold morning. Liandri spends a few minutes observing their actions before urging the farmers to speed him back to the cart trail.
Thirty minutes later Liandri has caught up and delivered his report.
“Four humans, one looked to be an old man. It wasn’t them- they seemed in good cheer- taking tea, travellers probably.”
Bob nods and the Knights hit the trail again.
7.30 AM and something strange looms into view, the Knights creep forward to the outskirts of a clearing in which stand two crudely and newly constructed buildings- single story, both fairly small- no more than single chambers. A tent sits between the buildings; ringed by six strange creatures- human Zombies.
Instinctively the Knights know they’re journey is at an end- as they are about to sneak back to discuss tactics a door opens and into the light comes a group of robed figures. The three figures are carrying scythes.
“Feck.”
“What?”
“Scythes.”
“So?”
“Death God.”
“They could be farmers… with Zombies.”
Everyone stares at Sayon for a while.
The group of Priests break up, heading in different directions- Zan kicks into action, slightly ahead of schedule.”
“Bastard.”
THWONG
The heavy crossbow bolt thuds into Jonyez the Butcher, leader of this evil triumvirate, jolting him backwards- he screams and runs for cover.
The Knights break cover while the six Zombies shamble towards them, Jonyez and another priest hang well back spell casting, the third priest scarpers into the smaller brick built chamber.
The Knights begin to chop through the Zombies- two are already down, however from the smaller chamber emerges a gaggle of skeletons- who charge into the fray. It gets serious.
All of the Knights, except Sayon, have been wounded and still three Zombies and four Skeletons are standing, summoned Fiendish Dire Rats are appearing everywhere, nibbling and attacking the Knights from behind.
Fred takes a thump to the side of his head from a Zombie and crumples to the ground.
Zan smashes down a Skeleton and charges into Egarhz, the Priest that released the Skeletons, thumping the Priest sending him spinning to the floor. Zan is prevented from following up on his attack when a Fiendish Dire Rat attacks him from behind while a Skeleton also rushes to attack. Egarhz heals and edges away.
Liandri also manages to break free of the general melee and lands a devastating blow to Jonyez; the Priest flees back into the second, slightly larger, building- from which spill another half-dozen Skeletons, preventing Liandri from following.
Jerky steps out of the fight and raises his Holy Symbol- eventually he manages to scare a few of the bonies away; alas the respite is not for long. Chlaghen, the remaining Priest, raises his Holy Symbol, and after a short battle of wills, the Skeletons return to the fray. Jerky panics and retreats out of the fight and into the long grass surrounding the encampment, her veins running cold courtesy of a Cause Fear spell.
Bob reacts to this, finds some space, and charges through the crowd at Chlaghen- he smashes him to the ground and slays him but not before being scythed and slashed terribly across his chest.
Sayon briefly ends up fighting a Fiendish Dire Rat within the tent, but soon slays the creature and emerges to fight on.
Meanwhile from within the larger building, into which Jonyez fled, come terrible screams of pain.
And so we come to the end of the 38th Turn, Bob (badly hurt), Liandri (hurt), Zan (badly hurt) & Sayon (unhurt) fight on against a scrum of three Zombies, eight Skeletons and a Fiendish Dire Rat, Egarhz bolsters the undead.
Five yards away Fred lies spread eagled on the floor- dead to the world.
Jerky (slightly wounded), courtesy of a Cause Fear spell, stalks the grasslands afraid to return to the fray.
In the larger chamber something screams loud enough to wake the dead… perhaps.
And so endeth Turn 38.
Next Turn… The Bitch is Back.
SESSION XXXVIII.
Woodnesday 5th Apron 2000
A Quiet Pint.
Characters taking part in events
Bob Male Human Ranger 3 Priest of Kord 1 (Emma)
Cinch Male Goblin Monk 1 (Erin)
Endrin Male Human Bard 4 Sorcerer 2 (Wayne)
Felix Male Dwarf Deep Druid 1 Priest of Moradin 1 (Tomo)
Fred Male Human Fighter 1 (Emma)
Greta Goldgarth Female Elven Priest of Corellan 2 (Wayne)
Jerky Timbers Female Gnome Priest of Pelor 1 (Kev.M.)
Lea Female Halfling Thief 2 (Erin)
Liandri Male Elf Rogue 4 Wizard 2 (Kev.M.)
Mallaria Female Half-Elf Barbarian 2 Fighter 1 (Tomo)
Sayon Female Elf Rogue 1 Fighter 1 (Erin)
Whirlwind Male Human Fighter 2 (Wayne)
Zanakand Male Dwarf Fighter 2 (Kev.M.)
“I’m Ham Slaad and your watching SCRY SPATS the foremost purveyor of quality tussling in all forms. We’re here tonight in the Pig-in-a-Poke Inn, Carimor for the DRINKING, which no doubt if the form book runs true, will climax in the SCUFFLING, and if we’re very lucky the SCUFFLING WITH SWORDS.”
“Well as you can see behind me the competition is pretty well advanced- so let’s catch up with some of the previous events of the evening.”
“Oh, you’ll like this one- priceless.”
Cinch, a Goblin Monk, with no knowledge or understanding of alcohol stands in the centre of the bar, grinning like a fool- apt really. He swigs at huge foaming mug, each time he comes up for air he looks a little less sure of himself- the smile begins to slip.
A minute later the mug is slammed down on the table in front of the Goblin, the creature summons up a strange smile then topples forward almost at attention. The Goblins skull makes contact with the table.
CRACK
The table breaks apart, cleanly cleft in two- the Monk does not stir.
“HI-YAH KARATE. What a way to go… but Cinch wasn’t the only one…”
Guntha, a huge Orc Barbarian, pitches forward and into the replacement table, which has been moved back considerably- just not far enough however.
CRACK
The table does not break; the Barbarian slowly sits up and smiles.
“I’m s’all s’right.”
He whistles through a massive gap where his front teeth once were. The lost pegs are the shown embedded in the edge of the table.
“Crazy guys these Tozar Barbarian- they’ll eat anything- very toothsome the tables around here… Huh huh just my little joke. Next up, or should I say, down…”
Jerky Timbers, a slight (emaciated) Gnome Priest of Pelor, looks confused- then topples forward.
THUNK
Missing the edge of the table by three or four feet.
“Close but no cigar, still those three fared better than this father and son team, still they looked better for it at the end- just watch.”
Two dishevelled, extremely corpulent and, of course, inebriated members of the Carimor farming community shuffle and smile as the home crowd spurs them on. They each clutch small glasses of bright red liquid, which steam slightly.
They swig down their drinks in unison, swallow, turn and nod to each other and then back to the crowd and smile broadly holding their glasses aloft in victory.
The larger of the two, obviously the father of the pairing, goes to shout something, instead a Technicolor yawn of titanic proportions jets out across the crowd.
The son turns to his father and goes to speak- you can imagine the results.
The scene shifts and lurches, the sound track a mess of belching, farting and vomiting- over low level screams.
“An hour later the Carimor Games Safety Inspector declared the Inn safe to return to, over fifty gallons of acidic bile were swilled from the Bar- you’ll be pleased to see however…”
The same father and son team shuffles into view each a good hundred pounds lighter- stick-like.
“… That all’s well that ends well. The way these two were going I thought their chances of survival were, well, slim. How are you feeling guys?”
“SqFineeak.”
“SqSmashingeak.”
“Good to hear gents. But that wasn’t the end of it- no way, check out this guy.”
The action has moved to outside the Inn, clean up crews beaver away in the background sweeping out lakes of bubbling liquid that smoke gently- the odd hiccup and belch can still be heard from within the Inn.
Endrin stands in the centre of a ring of eager onlookers, he holds a glowing crystal goblet of gently fizzing pale wine. He raises his glass and makes his toast.
“For all the women I’ve loved before, as I said at the time…”
He scans the crowd making numerous nods, winks and glances- a chorus of farmers wives and daughters turn away and flush in response.”
“… Bottoms up.”
In two gulps the wine is gone. Endrin stands tall and lifts the wine glass high in salute, shrill cheers fogged by deep voiced grumblings.
Endrins smile lasts, despite the white foam that starts as a drip and then rapidly progresses to a waterfall fizzing from his mouth.
“I F’ay. Fotts Fiss. FOTTS FFAPPENING.”
Endrin, now two thirds foam, slumps to the ground and begins to flop and wriggle like a fish out of water, all the time spurts of foam fountain and splash.
“FfuFFing Fto Fwurry Fabout. FI’me FFFine.”
The laughter is deep and booming, with a background of tutted sympathy.
“Hey guy, where’s the fire? Endrin the Bard- an entertainer to the end. But it didn’t end there- we’ve got some hidden footage of Endrin’s later explanations to a gang of irate farmers what exactly he had been doing with their significant others- watch out for the haymaker from the huge hayseed on the right.”
POW
Endrin’s face is shown in extreme close up as if slammed up against some clear screen.
“I’m afraid we’ve gotta cut the highlights show there, we’re live now, back in the Pig-in-a-Poke Inn. It’s the semi-final, the Tozar barbarians have dominated this event, as we expected, in fact the semi-finalists are all Tozar. Dunk, Bukowski, Chief Eke Thump and wait for it, Mallaria.”
The four semi-finalist eye each other suspiciously- actually three to one, the Tozars stare at the ex-Tozar, Mallaria- grins and waves back at each in turn, they fume back.
Four small purple shot glasses are brought out- seconds later all four are drunk.
The three barbarians- fizz and yap while pulling strange, unpleasant, faces.
NeeeeAAAtT YATTT TARRR
MEE-MOO MEE-MOO
WADA WADA WADA WADA
Finally they straighten and turn to stare at the unmoving Mallaria- statue still, glass in hand.
Eventually, the crowd hushes…
BROOCK BROK BROK BRRROOOOK BROK BROK
Mallaria moves off at a staccato pace, delicately lifting her legs and placing them carefully and deliberately back down again; hands tucked into her armpits, flapping like wings. She stalks the circle made by the crowd- pecking, the laughter begins.
The barbarians fold their arms over their chests and settle back to enjoy the scene. Mallaria continues her merry dance- clucking and squawking all the while.
She cosies up to Eke eventually squatting at the huge barbarian chief’s feet.
BRRRRRRROOOOOOOOCK BBBBBBRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOK
Eke looks down; still wracked with laughter, at the straining Mallaria, the crowd continue to scream their delight.
BRK!
Mallaria shuffles off her perch quickly.
The ripple of the crowd’s laughter begins to turn into gasps and silence.
Till only Eke continues to laugh- long and loud, finally he notices the surrounding silence- he looks down to see, incapable of laying an egg Mallaria has done the best she can- in the circumstances.
A wisp of steam curls upwards.
The image lurches violently a huge roar from the desecrated Chieftain.
RRRRRRAAAAAAYYYYYGGGEEEE
Imagine Tyson versus a fine British Athlete- Jayne Torvill, maybe. You get the picture.
Sometime later.
“Well after that monumental battering it was decided to make Chief Eke Thump the winner of the event, there seemed little point in continuing with the competition, particularly as Chief Eke Thump has confirmed that he had won. So that’s settled then, a clear victory for the Tozar barbarians, a clean sweep of the medals.”
“Well it’s 2 AM here at the Pig-in-a-Poke, Carimor. We’ve seen some top action, some premier scuffling and projectile vomiting the like of which hasn’t been seen since that infamous PHIL COLLINS incident. The competition is on a knife-edge; with that last 1-2-3 the Tozar barbarians are only a point adrift and are clear favourites for the final event. In the individual competition it’s still too close to call- it’s Liandri and Eke tied in first with Bob and Donk closely following them.”
“So till tomorrow, 11 AM and the Big Run over Jumps and Bumps and that, the final hurdle as it were, this’ll separate the men from the boys, the cooks from the broth, the gathering stone from its moss.”
“You’ve been watching Ham Slaad on SCRY SPATS- remember, to be in with a fighting chance watch SCRY SPATS. G’night and sleep tight, and don’t have nightmares.”
Thorsday 6th Apron 2000
We interrupt this broadcast.
Characters present
Bob Male Human Ranger 3 Priest of Kord 1 (Emma)
Fred Male Human Fighter 1 (Emma)
Jerky Timbers Female Gnome Priest of Pelor 1 (Kev.M.)
Liandri Male Elf Rogue 4 Wizard 2 (Kev.M.)
Mallaria Female Half-Elf Barbarian 2 Fighter 1 (Tomo)
Sayon Female Elf Rogue 1 Fighter 1 (Erin)
Zanakand Male Dwarf Fighter 2 (Kev.M.)
“It’s not tomorrow, it can’t be I haven’t slept yet.”
Zan is roughly shaken awake, it’s 4 AM in the morning, many of the competing adventurers have had just two hours sleep- for others, in the thick of last night’s action like Mallaria & Endrin, there’s been no rest- their wounds having prevented them from sleeping at all.
“We need help, please,”
Arthur Tremble, the proprietor of the Inn gathers any adventurers that he can rouse, minutes later the group assemble in the bar, talking in whispers as they complete their dress. There are some monster hangovers present.
“I’m sorry to wake you.”
SHAAARRRGGHHSHHH
SHHHHFECKSHHH
“Oh, right.”
Arthur switches to a loud whisper; the seven adventurers huddle around to hear.
“Four farmers went looking for a goat this evening- they told their friends that it had been stolen and they had found tracks and were going to follow them and get it back, they’d been drinking, and foolishly left with only an hours worth of light left. We’ve only just discovered they’re still missing, they’ve been gone for hours now, and… well one of them’s my brother. I tried to wait for the morning, but I can’t- I’ll give free food and board for as long as you live to any of you, all of you- if you can get him back safely. I’m so sorry to wake you… I had to ask, please, pl…”
Arthur begins to break down and cry.
“We’ll find them.”
Bob steps forward, followed by Jerky, Fred, Sayon, Zan, Liandri and finally Mallaria, who’s in no state to go anywhere.
“Mallaria, you shouldn’t…”
GRRRR
“Ok, but take it easy.”
Bob shrugs and catches up with All Star Wednesday Knights, as they in turn follow Arthur to the goat pens. Torches and lanterns are lit en-route.
A little later, at the goat pen.
Mallaria squats next to Bob, the two look at each-
“Ogre.”
The tracks lead out of Carimor, naturally, Arthur is sent back to the Inn and the Knights head off.
Just short of an hour later the Knights are spread around a low rise looking down into a stony area with a cave on the far side- a fire burns in the entrance and Liandri is certain he can see a figure hunched in the darkness. Every now and then a goat or sheep can be heard bleating.
Liandri is sent forward to check out the lay of the land- five minutes later he signals to the Knights and Mallaria steps up to the plate.
She shuffles her way forward into the rocky clearing and towards the fire, the hunched figure straightens and steps into the light, dressed in simple leathers, the young human squints at Mallaria as she approaches.
“Who goes there? Who are you? I’m armed.”
“My name’s Mallaria, I hope it’s not you that’s got my goat.”
The young guy looks up as Liandri stumbles about to launch himself at the human.
“JERRY.”
He screams and then runs into the cave- cover blown the Knights quickly emerge from hiding and hotfoot it down to the cave. Once there they draw weapons and creep forward.
“I think I can hear something.”
Bursting from the cave entrance comes a pair of goats moving at high speed, followed by three sheep at a fast trot, one crashes into Zan sending the pair thudding to the ground.
The Dwarf wrestles the ram for a short time before it gets free and charges off.
Thirty seconds of heart stopping silence follow punctuated by the loping slap of something much larger approaching from the cave.
“Ogre.”
The Knights ready themselves for the onslaught.
CLOP
CLOP
A bemused cow appears in the firelight, and wanders, seemingly without a concern in the world, through the statue like line of fighters- who simply stare, trying not to giggle.
RRRRRaaaaaaaRRRRRR
The Ogre charges out of the cave mouth, a huge club in one hand- it swats at the flatfooted Knights.
Sadly the Ogre misses.
A dagger whizzes out of the darkness certain to bury itself in Mallaria’s gut, that is until the barbarian at the last moment flings herself right… the dagger passes harmlessly by.
However in avoidance Mallaria crashes into the wall of the cave mouth and “lights out”, slumps to the floor.
Liandri sees his chance and leaps down, narrowly missing the Ogre, however he lands softly and silently behind the creature- next time.
The other Knights unfreeze- Jerky, Holy Symbol in hand, fires of a Cause Fear spell which has an instant effect.
MMMMMMMMMMUUUUUUUUUMMMMMMMMMMM
The Ogre jumps backwards
AAGH
Knocking over Liandri and for a second crushing him underfoot, the Elf sucks in air and curls into a ball.
The young human goat thief sees his opportunity and bursts from the cave and through the Knights line, in the hole left by the downed Mallaria.
The Ogre quickly finds his senses, as the other Knights close in- it looks down to see Liandri, still curled in a ball- nothing else for it. The giant kicks the Elf, who skids, slides and tumbles into the fire.
AAAAAARRRRGGGGHHHHHH.
Jerky quickly drags Liandri from the conflagration, beating the flames out to leave charred and singed patches in the Elf’s armour and clothes.
Zan is slightly wounded, and Bob takes a nick but the result is never in doubt, the Ogre is quickly slain.
The cave lair is empty, apart from the collected faeces of the mini-stampede. In short a dead end.
The Knights grab hold of Mallaria and Liandri and head for Carimor as fast as they can.
5.30 AM and the Knights, sans Mallaria, who’s been put back to bed, are stood again in the bar of the Inn, listening intently to Arthur’s four year old son-
“Then they ad annuver drink, an Uncle Alan said something about the frogging goat, no that’s no it, more like frugging goat… I can’t remember. Then one of the others, the tall one, the one that smells like that cheese, anyway he said that the broody goat was gone- then they started pushing, and one of them swore… he did, not Uncle Alan though.”
“And then?”
“Can I have a biscuit?”
“After.”
“Can I have two biscuits?”
“Yes, after, what happened next?”
“Can I have some jam?”
“ – “
Liandri steps between Arthur and his lad, picks the kid up and pins him to the wall with one hand, while in the other a gleaming stiletto dagger appears,
“Tell me where they went.”
“Theyleftinacarttheywentonthesouthroadandthenwentcrosscountry.”
"Thank you.”
Liandri drops the kid who begins to ball his eyes out. Arthur steps forward.
“You bastard, I’m going to…”
“Get your brother back, hopefully, out the way.”
Liandri strides off, the Knights mouth apologies and follow after.
Ten minutes later they’ve followed deep rutted cart tracks to a strange spot which in the half-light of the rising sun seems to have seen some action.
“They were ambushed, here, three- maybe more, there’s no blood- there wasn’t much of a struggle.”
The others look on as Bob goes to work.
“Soon after they turned the cart round and headed off… in that direction, the horses remained calm throughout. We follow.”
Bob points and then head down leads off, they follow the trail for twenty more minutes when Bob quickly signals for them to stop, then hide.
Four figures appear moving through the brush, they get close enough for Bob to recognise them, they’re locals.
“Hold. Where are you heading?”
The four farmers recognise the Ranger and the other Knights from the games.
“There are men moving through the land, a little to the West of here, we were looking for our friends when we spotted them. Have you found anything?”
“Your friends were ambushed back there, we’re following cart tracks, see. The men you saw- did they have a cart? How many of them were there? Which direction were they heading?”
“No there was no cart, they were moving very slowly, like old men. There were four of them with hooded robes. I think they were heading west,”
“Mmm, a similar direction to the cart tracks, clearly they’re not the men we seek. Liandri go with these men and see what you can see, then return here and follow after us- quickly, You people take Liandri to where you last saw these men- then return him here, then go back to Carimor- it very busy out here tonight- not a place for farmers.”
And so Liandri heads off with the farmers soon to discover the temporary camp of four robed figures who are taking tea, hooded and cloaked against the cold morning. Liandri spends a few minutes observing their actions before urging the farmers to speed him back to the cart trail.
Thirty minutes later Liandri has caught up and delivered his report.
“Four humans, one looked to be an old man. It wasn’t them- they seemed in good cheer- taking tea, travellers probably.”
Bob nods and the Knights hit the trail again.
7.30 AM and something strange looms into view, the Knights creep forward to the outskirts of a clearing in which stand two crudely and newly constructed buildings- single story, both fairly small- no more than single chambers. A tent sits between the buildings; ringed by six strange creatures- human Zombies.
Instinctively the Knights know they’re journey is at an end- as they are about to sneak back to discuss tactics a door opens and into the light comes a group of robed figures. The three figures are carrying scythes.
“Feck.”
“What?”
“Scythes.”
“So?”
“Death God.”
“They could be farmers… with Zombies.”
Everyone stares at Sayon for a while.
The group of Priests break up, heading in different directions- Zan kicks into action, slightly ahead of schedule.”
“Bastard.”
THWONG
The heavy crossbow bolt thuds into Jonyez the Butcher, leader of this evil triumvirate, jolting him backwards- he screams and runs for cover.
The Knights break cover while the six Zombies shamble towards them, Jonyez and another priest hang well back spell casting, the third priest scarpers into the smaller brick built chamber.
The Knights begin to chop through the Zombies- two are already down, however from the smaller chamber emerges a gaggle of skeletons- who charge into the fray. It gets serious.
All of the Knights, except Sayon, have been wounded and still three Zombies and four Skeletons are standing, summoned Fiendish Dire Rats are appearing everywhere, nibbling and attacking the Knights from behind.
Fred takes a thump to the side of his head from a Zombie and crumples to the ground.
Zan smashes down a Skeleton and charges into Egarhz, the Priest that released the Skeletons, thumping the Priest sending him spinning to the floor. Zan is prevented from following up on his attack when a Fiendish Dire Rat attacks him from behind while a Skeleton also rushes to attack. Egarhz heals and edges away.
Liandri also manages to break free of the general melee and lands a devastating blow to Jonyez; the Priest flees back into the second, slightly larger, building- from which spill another half-dozen Skeletons, preventing Liandri from following.
Jerky steps out of the fight and raises his Holy Symbol- eventually he manages to scare a few of the bonies away; alas the respite is not for long. Chlaghen, the remaining Priest, raises his Holy Symbol, and after a short battle of wills, the Skeletons return to the fray. Jerky panics and retreats out of the fight and into the long grass surrounding the encampment, her veins running cold courtesy of a Cause Fear spell.
Bob reacts to this, finds some space, and charges through the crowd at Chlaghen- he smashes him to the ground and slays him but not before being scythed and slashed terribly across his chest.
Sayon briefly ends up fighting a Fiendish Dire Rat within the tent, but soon slays the creature and emerges to fight on.
Meanwhile from within the larger building, into which Jonyez fled, come terrible screams of pain.
And so we come to the end of the 38th Turn, Bob (badly hurt), Liandri (hurt), Zan (badly hurt) & Sayon (unhurt) fight on against a scrum of three Zombies, eight Skeletons and a Fiendish Dire Rat, Egarhz bolsters the undead.
Five yards away Fred lies spread eagled on the floor- dead to the world.
Jerky (slightly wounded), courtesy of a Cause Fear spell, stalks the grasslands afraid to return to the fray.
In the larger chamber something screams loud enough to wake the dead… perhaps.
And so endeth Turn 38.
Next Turn… The Bitch is Back.
robberbaron
First Post
Oh my.
"Apres carnage".
I laughed so hard my wife thought I was having a fit.
More, please.
"Apres carnage".
I laughed so hard my wife thought I was having a fit.
More, please.
The Wannabe & Original Wednesday Knights.
SESSION XXXIX.
Thorsday 6th Apron 2000
Characters present
Bob Male Human Ranger 3 Priest of Kord 1 (Emma)
Fred Male Human Fighter 1 (Emma)
Jerky Timbers Female Gnome Priest of Pelor 1 (Kev.M.)
Liandri Male Elf Rogue 4 Wizard 2 (Kev.M.)
Mallaria Female Half-Elf Barbarian 2 Fighter 1 (Tomo)
Sayon Female Elf Rogue 1 Fighter 1 (Erin)
Zanakand Male Dwarf Fighter level 2 (Kev.M.)
The Bitch is Back.
“Pelor save me, Oh Lord.”
Jerky hops from foot to foot in the tall grass, tears stream down her face.
“I can’t go back. I must go back- Oh Pelor, please help me.”
Stepping out of the undergrowth behind the panicked Gnome comes a terrible sight- the swollen features of the creatures face break into a horrible grin. It silently creeps forward towards the nervous Gnome, stretching out bloody, battered & bruised hands towards the Gnomes neck.
EEEERRRKKK
“Boooooo.”
Jerky twists round, while simultaneously soiling her pants, to see the swollen, blackened features of a Zombie… no hang on its Mallaria.
“Pelor you scared the crap out of me.”
“So it seems.”
“What the feck are you doing back here.”
“Mores the point, what the feck are you doing here- shouldn’t you be helping your friends?”
“I… I… I…”
“Fight by my side, or die by my sword, Sunny.”
Mallaria jogs towards the sounds of combat, drawing her massive sword as she goes. Jerky makes up her mind and follows swiftly after.
Back at the encampment the fight is still deadlocked, Liandri sees an opening and ducks out and heads for the tall grass-
“LIANDRI…”
But he’s gone; Bob makes a mental note to have a word later, but fights on.
But Liandri has not gone far, hidden in the tall grass, he swigs at a potion of healing and then applies a Mage Armour. He’ll be back.
Mallaria dives into the fight as Zan splats the Fiendish Dire Rat, the Half-Elf Barbarian scatters the bones of two of the Skeletons in a single attack. Zan nods his thanks.
Not satisfied Mallaria rushes on towards Egarhz- who panics and begins a spell, too late- the foul Priest is almost cut in two by Mallaria’s huge sword, what’s left of the man flops to the floor.
Jerky catapults from the tall grass, Holy Symbol in hand- shouting her prayers.
Four Skeletons shiver and as a unit back away from the Gnome Priest.
“YESSSSS- In you face Evil dudes.”
Sayon is locked in battle with a Zombie, still unhurt but having a terrible time trying to bring the thing down.
Bob swigs at a potion of Cat’s Grace and does his best against a the remaining Skeletons and Zombies, two of each. Liandri arrives back on the scene to help the Ranger out.
Mallaria charges off towards the turned Skeletons and hacks them down in double quick time. Then straight after runs past the Zombie that Sayon has been fighting, and failing to hit for some time, she decapitates the creature as she passes.
“Err… thanks.”
Sayon heads off to help Liandri, replacing Bob, who spots an opening and dives towards the building, into which Jonyez fled- and from which come the unearthly screams.
Inside of the crude and featureless single chamber the dread Priest Jonyez, seemingly now uninjured, slits the throat of one of the prisoners- two bodies lie in ever expanding pools of blood. Four other prisoners, bound and gagged, wrestle with their bonds in terror and panic.
The Priest spins round to meet the Ranger.
“You’re dead.”
Back outside Jerky completes his examination of Fred, who gingerly raises his head- he had only been knocked unconscious.
“Catch up Fighter- no time for lying around.”
Fred leaps up and draws his sword- ready for action, two Zombies remain locked in combat with Mallaria, Liandri & Sayon- Fred joins the fray as Mallaria departs- rushing into building in which Bob fights Jonyez. Zan likewise barrels into the chamber.
Bob has so far failed to make any impression upon the Priest, the prisoners press themselves to the floor- avoiding Jonyez wicked Scythe as he carves away creating a wall of razor sharp steel.
Mallaria dives in and is sliced badly; she leaps back immediately clutching at the deep gash.
CLUNG
WHOOSH
CLUNG
THUNK
Zan is built of sturdier stuff, twice the Scythe bounces from the Dwarves helm, the last sound Zan’s axe as it slices through Jonyez’s arm and buries itself in the Priest’s side and chest. Jonyez, sways slightly, then speaks…
“I’ll be back…”
Smiles and then slumps to the floor- dead.
The three begin releasing the babbling terrified prisoners, when shouts from outside send them stumbling back out into the sunlight.
With only one Zombie still standing Sayon, Fred, Liandri and Jerky are playing with the thing, when bursting into the clearing come three of the four robed figures spotted en route earlier by the farmers and observed by Liandri.
One of the robed figures is cut down in a trice by Fred, shambling into the encampment comes the fourth member of the travelling group- not an “old man” but a Zombie.
The other Knights emerge from the building bristling with weapons and matted in gore and blood- it’s all too much for the wanderers, low level adherents to the Death Cult- they break and run, leaving the Zombie to face the music- the Last Waltz as it turns out.
The Knights decide against following, and rest up a while.
“How did you find us?”
Mallaria tells her story, waking up to find the other Knights gone, finding the Cart trail with the help of Arthur, encountering the farmers and then rushing on to join the Knights.
“Well, we’re glad to see you. Thanks.”
The others nod their thanks also.
The four remaining prisoners, two farmers and two caravan guards, are made comfortable and given healing. One of them is Arthur’s brother, although it takes fifteen minutes to be certain of this- they’re monosyllabic and prone to fits of crying and moaning- the things they’ve seen.
“D’ya hear what he said?”
“What?”
“I’ll be back…”
“So?”
“So, make a fire.”
All the undead creatures and the Priests are gathered, searched, the Priests decapitated, and then all the bodies burnt.
Matted in blood, stinking of death the Knights, exhausted, trudge back to Carimor.
In time for the final event.
The above scenario is taken from the Kingdoms of Kalamar Module “Harvest of Darkness”; the first scenario contained within- “Sometimes They Come Back.” Although the Knights headed that particular twist off at the pass- the Priests can’t rise again if they’re decapitated and burnt to ashes- good work.
The gallant Knights are welcomed back to Carimor by all, except the Tozar barbarians who chuckle and pass comment upon the dishevelled state of the adventurers. Mallaria receives some barbed jibes, she chooses to ignore them and have her vengeance in the final event.
Arthur is delighted to see Harold his brother although there are others who are now without husbands, fathers, brothers and/or sons- the weather is overcast reflecting the mood of Carimor.
The Knights have less than an hours rest before the final event, they’re all exhausted, battered and bruised- nevertheless they all sign up for…
THE BIG LONG RUN OVER BUMPS AND JUMPS AND THAT.
“And so here we are again for the final event of the Carimor Games… the conclusionator. A special shout goes out to the brave Wednesday Knights, many of whom got no rest last night, foiling a plot by a group of Dark Priests to create an army of undead. The High Priest finally cleft in twain by Zanakand’s mighty axe.”
“And yet, these gallant guys and gals have all signed up for the ultimate challenge.”
“Now join me as I explain the terror that lies ahead… First a dash of 180 yards to the wall, forty-five feet of rutted cliff. From there another dash, 120 yards, to a cliff. The competitors dive, swan-like, into the dark waters of Carimor Pond- swim across to the far side then dive down beneath the murky water and swim through the underwater passage and into a slippery cave that slopes up to emerge back into the light. Don’t worry laydees and genlemen there are trained Gnomish Aquanauts in the Pond, there to save anyone in danger. From the cave it’s another 270-yard dash to the Squires and the competitors mounts. Those without horses will have to make do with the nags and miscellaneous farm animals provided by the inhabitants of Carimor. I’d sure like to see them saddle a cow, and the chicken may prove difficult.”
“Then they spur their mounts on around a quarter mile circuit that brings them round and back towards the waiting crowds, and the final giant hurdle- the Big Fence. The finish line only yards the other side. Then all that’s left is to present the trophies to the winners. I for one can’t wait.”
“Before the off I’ll do the best I can to tell you a little about the competitors taking part in this gruelling event.”
“From the Tozar barbarians we have Guntha, Donk, Pumba, Gollpin, Ding, Taz, Chief Eke and, of course, Loki.”
“Representing the Carimor Imperial Guard we have Len Stubbs and Lomas, although joining them we have the Wednesday Knights- Bob, Cinch, Endrin, Felix, Fred, Greta, Jerky, Lea, Liandri, Mallaria, Sayon, Whirlwind and Zanakand.”
“Representing the Carimor locals, not scoring points for the battle between Barbarism and Civilisationism, are Tam Flinders, the Dwarven Smith, and for the farmers Goland and Langley- the “Sicko’s”, as they’re now known, and Tom Selig.”
“Independent competitors in it for the prize money or kudos are Earl Grey and Naj Robel Paladins of St. Cuthbert; Sister Serka, and twin brothers, Brothers Jonu and Juno, Monks from the Order of the Blinding Light; and lastly Yee Nu an Elven Caravan Guard.”
“And so with the scene set… as the crowd hush, we move now to the official starter Lady Juniper Bushes. Over to you Lady Juniper… The Carimor Games brought to you by Scry Spats laydees and genlemen, Ham Slaad reporting for you… Lady Juniper.”
“ARW WOO WEADY?”
The good Lady’s slightly, who am I kidding, equine features stare down from the starting platform.”
“The tensions mounting, Ham Slaad, Scry Spurts.”
“ARW WOO STWEADY?”
“This the final event… Ham Slaad, Scry Spurts.”
“G…”
And so endeth session 39.
Next turn… “…O”
SESSION XXXIX.
Thorsday 6th Apron 2000
Characters present
Bob Male Human Ranger 3 Priest of Kord 1 (Emma)
Fred Male Human Fighter 1 (Emma)
Jerky Timbers Female Gnome Priest of Pelor 1 (Kev.M.)
Liandri Male Elf Rogue 4 Wizard 2 (Kev.M.)
Mallaria Female Half-Elf Barbarian 2 Fighter 1 (Tomo)
Sayon Female Elf Rogue 1 Fighter 1 (Erin)
Zanakand Male Dwarf Fighter level 2 (Kev.M.)
The Bitch is Back.
“Pelor save me, Oh Lord.”
Jerky hops from foot to foot in the tall grass, tears stream down her face.
“I can’t go back. I must go back- Oh Pelor, please help me.”
Stepping out of the undergrowth behind the panicked Gnome comes a terrible sight- the swollen features of the creatures face break into a horrible grin. It silently creeps forward towards the nervous Gnome, stretching out bloody, battered & bruised hands towards the Gnomes neck.
EEEERRRKKK
“Boooooo.”
Jerky twists round, while simultaneously soiling her pants, to see the swollen, blackened features of a Zombie… no hang on its Mallaria.
“Pelor you scared the crap out of me.”
“So it seems.”
“What the feck are you doing back here.”
“Mores the point, what the feck are you doing here- shouldn’t you be helping your friends?”
“I… I… I…”
“Fight by my side, or die by my sword, Sunny.”
Mallaria jogs towards the sounds of combat, drawing her massive sword as she goes. Jerky makes up her mind and follows swiftly after.
Back at the encampment the fight is still deadlocked, Liandri sees an opening and ducks out and heads for the tall grass-
“LIANDRI…”
But he’s gone; Bob makes a mental note to have a word later, but fights on.
But Liandri has not gone far, hidden in the tall grass, he swigs at a potion of healing and then applies a Mage Armour. He’ll be back.
Mallaria dives into the fight as Zan splats the Fiendish Dire Rat, the Half-Elf Barbarian scatters the bones of two of the Skeletons in a single attack. Zan nods his thanks.
Not satisfied Mallaria rushes on towards Egarhz- who panics and begins a spell, too late- the foul Priest is almost cut in two by Mallaria’s huge sword, what’s left of the man flops to the floor.
Jerky catapults from the tall grass, Holy Symbol in hand- shouting her prayers.
Four Skeletons shiver and as a unit back away from the Gnome Priest.
“YESSSSS- In you face Evil dudes.”
Sayon is locked in battle with a Zombie, still unhurt but having a terrible time trying to bring the thing down.
Bob swigs at a potion of Cat’s Grace and does his best against a the remaining Skeletons and Zombies, two of each. Liandri arrives back on the scene to help the Ranger out.
Mallaria charges off towards the turned Skeletons and hacks them down in double quick time. Then straight after runs past the Zombie that Sayon has been fighting, and failing to hit for some time, she decapitates the creature as she passes.
“Err… thanks.”
Sayon heads off to help Liandri, replacing Bob, who spots an opening and dives towards the building, into which Jonyez fled- and from which come the unearthly screams.
Inside of the crude and featureless single chamber the dread Priest Jonyez, seemingly now uninjured, slits the throat of one of the prisoners- two bodies lie in ever expanding pools of blood. Four other prisoners, bound and gagged, wrestle with their bonds in terror and panic.
The Priest spins round to meet the Ranger.
“You’re dead.”
Back outside Jerky completes his examination of Fred, who gingerly raises his head- he had only been knocked unconscious.
“Catch up Fighter- no time for lying around.”
Fred leaps up and draws his sword- ready for action, two Zombies remain locked in combat with Mallaria, Liandri & Sayon- Fred joins the fray as Mallaria departs- rushing into building in which Bob fights Jonyez. Zan likewise barrels into the chamber.
Bob has so far failed to make any impression upon the Priest, the prisoners press themselves to the floor- avoiding Jonyez wicked Scythe as he carves away creating a wall of razor sharp steel.
Mallaria dives in and is sliced badly; she leaps back immediately clutching at the deep gash.
CLUNG
WHOOSH
CLUNG
THUNK
Zan is built of sturdier stuff, twice the Scythe bounces from the Dwarves helm, the last sound Zan’s axe as it slices through Jonyez’s arm and buries itself in the Priest’s side and chest. Jonyez, sways slightly, then speaks…
“I’ll be back…”
Smiles and then slumps to the floor- dead.
The three begin releasing the babbling terrified prisoners, when shouts from outside send them stumbling back out into the sunlight.
With only one Zombie still standing Sayon, Fred, Liandri and Jerky are playing with the thing, when bursting into the clearing come three of the four robed figures spotted en route earlier by the farmers and observed by Liandri.
One of the robed figures is cut down in a trice by Fred, shambling into the encampment comes the fourth member of the travelling group- not an “old man” but a Zombie.
The other Knights emerge from the building bristling with weapons and matted in gore and blood- it’s all too much for the wanderers, low level adherents to the Death Cult- they break and run, leaving the Zombie to face the music- the Last Waltz as it turns out.
The Knights decide against following, and rest up a while.
“How did you find us?”
Mallaria tells her story, waking up to find the other Knights gone, finding the Cart trail with the help of Arthur, encountering the farmers and then rushing on to join the Knights.
“Well, we’re glad to see you. Thanks.”
The others nod their thanks also.
The four remaining prisoners, two farmers and two caravan guards, are made comfortable and given healing. One of them is Arthur’s brother, although it takes fifteen minutes to be certain of this- they’re monosyllabic and prone to fits of crying and moaning- the things they’ve seen.
“D’ya hear what he said?”
“What?”
“I’ll be back…”
“So?”
“So, make a fire.”
All the undead creatures and the Priests are gathered, searched, the Priests decapitated, and then all the bodies burnt.
Matted in blood, stinking of death the Knights, exhausted, trudge back to Carimor.
In time for the final event.
The above scenario is taken from the Kingdoms of Kalamar Module “Harvest of Darkness”; the first scenario contained within- “Sometimes They Come Back.” Although the Knights headed that particular twist off at the pass- the Priests can’t rise again if they’re decapitated and burnt to ashes- good work.
The gallant Knights are welcomed back to Carimor by all, except the Tozar barbarians who chuckle and pass comment upon the dishevelled state of the adventurers. Mallaria receives some barbed jibes, she chooses to ignore them and have her vengeance in the final event.
Arthur is delighted to see Harold his brother although there are others who are now without husbands, fathers, brothers and/or sons- the weather is overcast reflecting the mood of Carimor.
The Knights have less than an hours rest before the final event, they’re all exhausted, battered and bruised- nevertheless they all sign up for…
THE BIG LONG RUN OVER BUMPS AND JUMPS AND THAT.
“And so here we are again for the final event of the Carimor Games… the conclusionator. A special shout goes out to the brave Wednesday Knights, many of whom got no rest last night, foiling a plot by a group of Dark Priests to create an army of undead. The High Priest finally cleft in twain by Zanakand’s mighty axe.”
“And yet, these gallant guys and gals have all signed up for the ultimate challenge.”
“Now join me as I explain the terror that lies ahead… First a dash of 180 yards to the wall, forty-five feet of rutted cliff. From there another dash, 120 yards, to a cliff. The competitors dive, swan-like, into the dark waters of Carimor Pond- swim across to the far side then dive down beneath the murky water and swim through the underwater passage and into a slippery cave that slopes up to emerge back into the light. Don’t worry laydees and genlemen there are trained Gnomish Aquanauts in the Pond, there to save anyone in danger. From the cave it’s another 270-yard dash to the Squires and the competitors mounts. Those without horses will have to make do with the nags and miscellaneous farm animals provided by the inhabitants of Carimor. I’d sure like to see them saddle a cow, and the chicken may prove difficult.”
“Then they spur their mounts on around a quarter mile circuit that brings them round and back towards the waiting crowds, and the final giant hurdle- the Big Fence. The finish line only yards the other side. Then all that’s left is to present the trophies to the winners. I for one can’t wait.”
“Before the off I’ll do the best I can to tell you a little about the competitors taking part in this gruelling event.”
“From the Tozar barbarians we have Guntha, Donk, Pumba, Gollpin, Ding, Taz, Chief Eke and, of course, Loki.”
“Representing the Carimor Imperial Guard we have Len Stubbs and Lomas, although joining them we have the Wednesday Knights- Bob, Cinch, Endrin, Felix, Fred, Greta, Jerky, Lea, Liandri, Mallaria, Sayon, Whirlwind and Zanakand.”
“Representing the Carimor locals, not scoring points for the battle between Barbarism and Civilisationism, are Tam Flinders, the Dwarven Smith, and for the farmers Goland and Langley- the “Sicko’s”, as they’re now known, and Tom Selig.”
“Independent competitors in it for the prize money or kudos are Earl Grey and Naj Robel Paladins of St. Cuthbert; Sister Serka, and twin brothers, Brothers Jonu and Juno, Monks from the Order of the Blinding Light; and lastly Yee Nu an Elven Caravan Guard.”
“And so with the scene set… as the crowd hush, we move now to the official starter Lady Juniper Bushes. Over to you Lady Juniper… The Carimor Games brought to you by Scry Spats laydees and genlemen, Ham Slaad reporting for you… Lady Juniper.”
“ARW WOO WEADY?”
The good Lady’s slightly, who am I kidding, equine features stare down from the starting platform.”
“The tensions mounting, Ham Slaad, Scry Spurts.”
“ARW WOO STWEADY?”
“This the final event… Ham Slaad, Scry Spurts.”
“G…”
And so endeth session 39.
Next turn… “…O”
The Wannabe & Original Wednesday Knights.
SESSION XXXX.
Thorsday 6th Apron 2000
Characters taking part in event
Bob Male Human Ranger 3 Priest of Kord 1 (Emma)
Cinch Male Goblin Monk 1 (Erin)
Endrin Male Human Bard 4 Sorcerer 2 (Wayne)
Felix Male Dwarf Deep Druid 1 Priest of Moradin 1 (Tomo)
Fred Male Human Fighter 1 (Emma)
Greta Goldgarth Female Elven Priest of Corellan 2 (Wayne)
Jerky Timbers Female Gnome Priest of Pelor 1 (Kev.M.)
Lea Female Halfling Rogue 2 (Erin)
Liandri Male Elf Rogue 4 Wizard 2 (Kev.M.)
Mallaria Female Half-Elf Barbarian 2 Fighter 1 (Tomo)
Sayon Female Elf Rogue 1 Fighter 1 (Erin)
Whirlwind Male Human Fighter 2 (Wayne)
Zanakand Male Dwarf Fighter 2 Monk 1 (Kev.M.)
“O”
“The Big Long Race over Jumps and Bumps and That begins… I’m Ham Slaad and you’re watching SCRY SPATS, for the final event of the Carimor Games.”
The rope drops and the motley collection, from fatties to thoroughbreds set of at a lope or a gallop.
“No casualties so far, first to the Wall is Loki, closely followed by Guntha and Bob in third- the Wall’s a difficult climb, there may be a few casualties here- if someone fell from the top they could certainly smash their skull clean open. Fingers crossed. Keep watching folks.”
A clutch of scrambling freaks push, shove and pull themselves and each other up or off the Wall. There are several fallers but none from any great height- the unlucky ones scramble to their feet and begin the climb again.
“And first to the top, actually there’s two of them together there- Pumba and Ding of the Tozar’s, followed by a gaggle of others too close to call- Guntha, Gollpin, Langley, Lomas, Bob, Cinch, Fred, Liandri and Whirlwind. That’s really bunched them up- perhaps the next dash will split them up a bit more.”
The slightly thinned out field sprints, head long, towards the approaching cliff and Carimor Pond below. It’s begun to show on some of the competitors faces- as the lead pack reaches the cliff edge we see there are still a number scrambling up the wall. In fact Greta, the Priest of Corellan, is still looking for a clean place to put her hands to begin her climb.
“Does anyone have any gloves, silk if you have them, though something in calfskin would be acceptable?”
“Is there a way round then?”
On to the cliff edge.
“And Pumba dives first, no points for style there. There goes Ding… no hang on he’s refused- looks like he’s going to try and climb down- the big baby. So second now is Guntha, there goes Gollpin in third. And in fourth places comes the first non-Tozar, it’s the ugly Elf Liandri. COME ON CARIMOR- THIS IS FOR CIVILISATIONISM.”
“Oh we’re back to the Wall… Ho ho… here’s our first casualty. Roll VT.”
Tom Selig, a plump farmer does a header from almost the top of the Wall- his body crunches into the ground and bounces- coming to rest, motionless. A young man, seven feet tall and thin with it, jogs across the grass towards the could-be corpse, one half of the stretcher squad. The other half being a middle-aged female dwarf weighing something in the region of 400+ lbs. Between the two of them it’s poetry in motion.
Eventually the farmer stirs and raises a hand, the crowd, and insurers, breath a sigh of relief.
On closer inspection we see the skinny guy unseen by the crowd holding up the farmers hand and waggling it about. The large Dwarf makes repeated chopping motions across her neck and throat.
“One-Nil.”
“SCRY SPATS- ALWAYS THERE, DEAD ON-TIME.”
We change to a murky view from beneath Carimor Pond- weed waves and fish casually saunter by, several stop to stare. In the background a column of bubbles points down to a Gnome, either of incredible size, or wearing an inflated leather barrage balloon. The outfit is topped off with a goldfish bowl, from which extends a hosepipe to the surface of the Pond.
“Let’s see who’s first so far, here they come you can see them on the surface- there’s the underwater passage, to the right.”
“Oh and here’s a turn up for the books…”
Breaking the surface diving down in a row come three competitors- in the murk we can see Guntha and in the same moment two of the Wednesday Knights, Bob and, of course, Liandri.
“What a turn up- there’s nothing between these three- which of course begs the question, where’s Pumba?”
On the surface it seems The Raft of the Medusa has finally sunk. It looks like hell, the water park. Jonu the Monk is being rescued, Cinch, Felix and Lea already sit in the rescue boat- heads down, looking decidedly peaky.
The scene lurches right.
CRUNCH
Lying on the rocks beneath the cliff, lies Earl Grey, the Paladin, x-marks the spot unmoving- having slipped rather than jumped from the cliff.
Loud cheering fills the air and small children run about waving flags and yelping with joy.
Fatty and skinny lope onto the seen, some of the more unsavoury elements throw fruit.
“As I said to Old Nick the other night when he asked me how I liked my Paladin, ‘on the rocks’”
The picture lurches back to the waters surface again where Greta screams and gargles thrashing the water about her to a foam. The rescue boat tries to get close but is repelled by the Priests flailing arms, eventually Felix leans over and CLUNKS Greta on the head with his club- then drags her in.
Back under the surface of the water, down, deep down, right to the bottom of the Pond- there, beached on the bottom, is Pumba. Swimming like fury but getting nowhere at all- he’s a big lad, in a big way, it’d be quicker to climb over him than to run round.
In the background an Aquanaut points to the surface, Pumba shakes his head and continues to mime swimming.
The Aquanaut visibly shrugs, then sits down to see how this is going to end.
“What a mix there, that’s put paid to a chunk of them, let’s cut to the Cave and see who it is that emerges first from the Underwater passage.”
Bursting from the water comes a huge figure…
“It’s a Tozar, it must be a Tozar, Nerull be blessed, look who it is.”
It’s Bob.
“Where did he come from? And next up…”
Liandri sprints from the water, streaking after him comes Ding, then Guntha, then, of all people, Mallaria.
“She’s back, the Bitch is back… Mallaria’s making a late charge.”
The competitors emerge from the cave and into the light- in the distance the Squires can be seen holding their mounts.
Back to the runners and Bob is pulling ahead, halfway to the mounts and the mighty Ranger is not slowing down, more than twenty yards behind comes Ding, then Liandri, then Mallaria.
The crowd goes berserk.
“Let’s just mop up shall we, catch up with some of the also-rans.”
Back under the surface of Carimor Pond the underwater passage is plugged solid with a frenzy of kicking legs and waving arms- two Aquanauts attempt to alternatively shove then pull at the bolus of bodies- hoping to dislodge it.
On the surface we see at the Ponds edge, a line of exhausted and eliminated competitors- Donka, Sister Serka, Goland, Langley, Loki and Lomas all sit gasping for air- out of it all.
Suddenly the surface of the water explodes and Pumba is thrown a good fifteen feet in the air- blown up like a barrage balloon, he hangs in the air for a smidgin of a second, then back down again with a slap.
“Whoooo Hooo Crazy man, you can’t keep a good Tozar down.”
“Now let’s get back to the front…”
Bob arrives first, mounts in one swift movement and is off. Ding arrives next breathing hard he mounts double-quick and spurs his horse on. Liandri and Mallaria pull-up and throw themselves on their horses and head off at high speed.
“But what’s this, he’s catching… Bob, come on Bob, he’s behind you. BOB, COME ON BOB.”
Bob looks behind to see Ding’s black stallion closing fast, it’s all or nothing now. Liandri and Mallaria follow close behind. Behind them Sayon, Fred, Eke, Juno, Whirlwind, Jerky, Gollpin, Taz and Tam Flinders are all still in the race.
“We’ve got a faller…”
Trying to catch Liandri, Mallaria’s saddle (suspiciously) slips, and she tumbles overboard bouncing along the turf. The crazy barbarian’s not through however, she gathers up her horse and sets off again at full pelt.
“Oh my word…”
The scene shows Bob and Ding head to head, horses neck to neck- hurtling towards the Big Fence.
“OOOoo”
Closer.
“OOOooo”
Closer still.
“Oh.”
The scene shows the Big Fence, no horses, no Bob, no Ding.
“They’ve both refused, look, behind them, Liandri’s closing fast.”
Ding and Bob spur there mounts around and head back towards the Big Fence, Liandri is only a dozen yards away.
“THIS IS IT.”
Ding and Bob leap at the same time-
“OH”
“OH”
“OH”
“LIANDRI…”
“LIANDRI’S IN THIRD.. YOU COULDN’T SEPARATE THE FIRST TWO. OH NERULL, NERULL BE PRAISED, ALL HAIL TO THEE GOD OF DARKNESS- WHAT A FINSIH.”
The crowd converge on the riders as they stream across the finish line, Sayon comes in fourth, Guntha fifth, the rest pass in a jostling knot.
“There’s some fighting, I can see some fighting, claim and counter-claim, they’re fixing the result- this needs to be sorted out quickly… what am I saying. CREAM THAT SUCKER.”
Ding and Bob still in the saddle are side by side watching sundry barbarians trying to beat the stuffing out of sundry, well, others- any non-Tozar, which includes Mallaria. As for the sundry others- non-Tozar, including Mallaria of course, they’re knocking the stuffing out of the barbarians.
“Heap good race.”
“Yeah, my hangovers gone.”
The Tozar chuckles.
Bob chuckles back.
The two puff out their chests seemingly still fresh as a daisy.
“Who won?”
“We did.”
“Is Me We?”
(I’ll give you a pound if you can identify the poem contained (in full) in the above three lines- and who said it? First right answer.)
Bob nods.
“Good. Happy. Sleep now.”
Bob nods.
The two wander off, the result for them, clear.
“And there’s a right to Mallaria, she’s down, she’s down- I think that’s the en… no she’s back up again… OOOOH. That was low, it’s no longer Eke Thump, it’s EEEEk THUMP.”
Time passes, the Oerth stretches around the Sun, the combatants thin a little.
“That’s not what you should use a set of bellows for, they’ll need a good scrub. Oh that’s Mallaria down again, the Chief’s using, what’s that, I can’t see what he’s got in his hand- whatever it is he’s battering Mallaria with… it’s a Halfling, a Halfling- nice improvisation. I thought someday someone would find a use for them- I leave traps out for them at home. Once they get into your man-vault, sorry larder… Mallaria’s not moving, she looks to be,,, Oh I’m welling up, this sad… She’s up, she’s up. OOOh, that’s twice in the cockles- does that qualify as a special attack.”
More time passes until all the fighting has finished, the combatants are making small talk, eating sandwiches and drinking, a barbarian Ooompah band are kicking up a storm, the lead Goblin player in the midst of some crazy solo. In the background the sun sets on this idyllic scene.
In the foreground Mallaria and Eke take it in turns to punch each other in the face, there’s about a minute between each blow, they’re very tired.
No one is watching.
Eventually.
“Tired?”
“Yeah.”
The two straighten up and stare intently at each other, trying desperately not to collapse.
“Draw?”
“Draw.”
Eke Thump nods, then turns to leave.
“Dad.”
He turns back.
“Yes.”
The silence extends from a moment to somewhere between a minute and forever.
Eke Thump speaks again.
“Daughter.”
An even number of them smile, then heads bowed, they both minutely examine the ground beneath their feet.
The moment extends once again, till, as if at some unseen signal, the two simultaneously turn and walk away, in opposite directions.
Possibly forever.
Back at the party things are going swimmingly until some fool forgets and asks the question-
“Who won again?”
Soon after the Official Diviner is called, His Arch Magicness, Appalling Daniels.
“You’ll like this, not a lot.”
A Divine lottery is undertaken-
“And tonight laydees an genlemen we will be summoning… Drum roll.”
Several Tozars beat dead Goblins on any available surface- it’s more a drum tumble than a roll.
“WEE JAS.”
“This is Ham Slaad, for SCRY SPATS, yes you heard it folks- WEE JAS, the dark God of Magic- ostracised by the Magic Circle after pulling a Vrock out of his hat at a children’s party, with disastrous consequences. The Circle having calculated that the Vrock, if it continues to claim its Disability Benefit, will bankrupt all the nations of the Oerth in only half its lifespan. There were no winners that day, the foul Vulture Demon, was left a gibbering wreck and has no chances of ever working again. Interesting fact- twenty-two of the twenty-three, ‘butter wouldn’t melt in their mouth’s’ children went on to become Bards. Yes Bards, the most annoying know-it-all’s on this Nerull forsaken rock. WEE JAS, laydees an genlemen- a bad egg, some might say. Now over to the twenty third child from that terrifying and for an innocent Demon career ending party… Appalling Daniels.”
“You’ll like this, not a lot.”
The annoying Prestigitator shuffles about a bit, sashaying too and fro, waving his arms about a bit- annoying, as I say.
“And now my beautiful assistant… Debbie McGhee…”
A large, eight to nine foot tall- three quarter ton, creature shuffles onto the scene. It’s wearing a blond wig and a silver spangly costume, which leaves nothing to the imagination. It has huge Vulture-like wings.
And is gibbering and shaking like a leaf, nervously scanning the crowd, hypnotised by the far away flames in the eyes of every under five.
“The show must go on. The show must go on.”
It’s mantra as it glissades and vogues behind the Official Diviner.
“You’ll like this, not a lot.”
More swanning and gadding from the pair.
“Ab-Ra Ab-Ra
Cadabra
I’m gonna reach out
And grab ya.”
The clouds in the sky split in an instant, ripped apart and peeled back as if by some invisible hands.
It begins to rain.
White Bunny Rabbits
The face of a dark and mysterious figure appears in the wound in the sky, its huge hooked nose and angular features, tumbling black curls down to its shoulders, nestled beneath the tallest and blackest of top hats.
And in a booming voice-
“WHAT D’YEW WANT JIMMI?”
“Oh mighty WEE JAS, Dark God of etc. We your supplicants humbly do beg that you part the mists of time and with your Third Eye, Great Architect, tell us…”
“DA SECRETT OF ETERNUL LIF?”
“No, mighty ruler of impenetarabubble…”
“DA SECRETT OF DA OFFSYDE TRAP?”
“No, although… No your Great… Er… Bigness, the question we seek an answer to is…”
“I’M NAE TELLIN’ YA AGAIN WER DA REMOTE KONTROL FOR YA KRISTAL BALL IS, AN I’M NAE DEE-IN THAT THUNG WUR YA GET THE PORN CHANNUL AGIN. YU’LL JUS’ HAFTA’ SUBSCRIBE.”
Ham Slaad pops up suddenly-
“SCRY SPURTS LAYDEES AN GENLEMEN, A DIFFERENT POSITION EVERY WEEK- NEXT WEEK, GOAL SHOOTER.”
Then pops back down again.
“No mighty WEE JAS, you miserable big-mouthed blabberer, We, no scratch that, I want to know, no… DEMAND to know the winner of the 11 O’clock Carimor Steeplechase. You… you…”
The lightning stroke leaves behind an impenetrable snow of singed and burnt playing cards, and that electricity smell, the clouds of cards eventually clear- Daniels is gone.
Lying on his/her side is Debbie McGhee now minus wig and sans spangly costume- clutching at his/her heart.
“Me ol’ ticker.”
The Vrock dies, thereby saving the Magic Circle and safeguarding the future prosperity of all the nations of the Oerth, Thorsdays have always been odd days- ask Arthur Dent.
The crowd are stunned… still.
Wee Jas reaches down, his huge hand set to crush all those present- caught in the spotlight- paralyzed by fear.
Closer.
Closer.
Surely the end.
“PICK A CARD.”
No one moves.
“GO ON.”
Still no reaction.
“YOU’LL LIKE THIS.”
Wee Jas seems to be thinking.
“BUT NOT VERY MUCH.”
“NO THAT’S NOT RIGHT.”
“BUT IT RINGS A BELL.”
Liandri shuffles forward.
“LOOK, please, who bloody won?”
Wee Jas looks down and smiles.
“I’VE ANSWERED THAT.”
And retreats dragging back the clouds to seal the breach.
“What did he mean?”
A few smile, very few, none of the Wednesday Knights that’s for sure, except maybe Endrin, but he, as ever, is pretending.
There’s some more left of this turn- The Original and Best Wednesday Knights head off to adventure, but I’ll hold that over until next time- that’s enough. Sorry- intrusive author.
The above was cobbled together using an unforgettable source book called “Tournaments, Fayres and something or other”, by, “I can’t find it now”, who make a lot of good stuff- someone remind me please.
I’ve looked it up it’s called “Tournaments, Fairs & Taverns”, by Natural 20 Press, published by E.N. Publishing. There are some good rules there but it can get bogged down with a lot of dice rolling- although maybe that was my fault. The players certainly weren’t enamoured and were slavering to find something to “rend, maim… destroy”, as Mallaria eloquently put it.
And so endeth turn number 40.
Thanks to Jerry Sadowitz for his Wee Jas impression.
As the great Mr. Sadowitz once said to me- “Is that your hair, or is your head unravelling?”
Next turn… The continuing adventures of the Wednesday Knights in “Inheritance (A)Tax.”
Oh and Zan chooses this moment to devote himself to the Order of the Blinding Light, he goes away to train to become a Monk.
SESSION XXXX.
Thorsday 6th Apron 2000
Characters taking part in event
Bob Male Human Ranger 3 Priest of Kord 1 (Emma)
Cinch Male Goblin Monk 1 (Erin)
Endrin Male Human Bard 4 Sorcerer 2 (Wayne)
Felix Male Dwarf Deep Druid 1 Priest of Moradin 1 (Tomo)
Fred Male Human Fighter 1 (Emma)
Greta Goldgarth Female Elven Priest of Corellan 2 (Wayne)
Jerky Timbers Female Gnome Priest of Pelor 1 (Kev.M.)
Lea Female Halfling Rogue 2 (Erin)
Liandri Male Elf Rogue 4 Wizard 2 (Kev.M.)
Mallaria Female Half-Elf Barbarian 2 Fighter 1 (Tomo)
Sayon Female Elf Rogue 1 Fighter 1 (Erin)
Whirlwind Male Human Fighter 2 (Wayne)
Zanakand Male Dwarf Fighter 2 Monk 1 (Kev.M.)
“O”
“The Big Long Race over Jumps and Bumps and That begins… I’m Ham Slaad and you’re watching SCRY SPATS, for the final event of the Carimor Games.”
The rope drops and the motley collection, from fatties to thoroughbreds set of at a lope or a gallop.
“No casualties so far, first to the Wall is Loki, closely followed by Guntha and Bob in third- the Wall’s a difficult climb, there may be a few casualties here- if someone fell from the top they could certainly smash their skull clean open. Fingers crossed. Keep watching folks.”
A clutch of scrambling freaks push, shove and pull themselves and each other up or off the Wall. There are several fallers but none from any great height- the unlucky ones scramble to their feet and begin the climb again.
“And first to the top, actually there’s two of them together there- Pumba and Ding of the Tozar’s, followed by a gaggle of others too close to call- Guntha, Gollpin, Langley, Lomas, Bob, Cinch, Fred, Liandri and Whirlwind. That’s really bunched them up- perhaps the next dash will split them up a bit more.”
The slightly thinned out field sprints, head long, towards the approaching cliff and Carimor Pond below. It’s begun to show on some of the competitors faces- as the lead pack reaches the cliff edge we see there are still a number scrambling up the wall. In fact Greta, the Priest of Corellan, is still looking for a clean place to put her hands to begin her climb.
“Does anyone have any gloves, silk if you have them, though something in calfskin would be acceptable?”
“Is there a way round then?”
On to the cliff edge.
“And Pumba dives first, no points for style there. There goes Ding… no hang on he’s refused- looks like he’s going to try and climb down- the big baby. So second now is Guntha, there goes Gollpin in third. And in fourth places comes the first non-Tozar, it’s the ugly Elf Liandri. COME ON CARIMOR- THIS IS FOR CIVILISATIONISM.”
“Oh we’re back to the Wall… Ho ho… here’s our first casualty. Roll VT.”
Tom Selig, a plump farmer does a header from almost the top of the Wall- his body crunches into the ground and bounces- coming to rest, motionless. A young man, seven feet tall and thin with it, jogs across the grass towards the could-be corpse, one half of the stretcher squad. The other half being a middle-aged female dwarf weighing something in the region of 400+ lbs. Between the two of them it’s poetry in motion.
Eventually the farmer stirs and raises a hand, the crowd, and insurers, breath a sigh of relief.
On closer inspection we see the skinny guy unseen by the crowd holding up the farmers hand and waggling it about. The large Dwarf makes repeated chopping motions across her neck and throat.
“One-Nil.”
“SCRY SPATS- ALWAYS THERE, DEAD ON-TIME.”
We change to a murky view from beneath Carimor Pond- weed waves and fish casually saunter by, several stop to stare. In the background a column of bubbles points down to a Gnome, either of incredible size, or wearing an inflated leather barrage balloon. The outfit is topped off with a goldfish bowl, from which extends a hosepipe to the surface of the Pond.
“Let’s see who’s first so far, here they come you can see them on the surface- there’s the underwater passage, to the right.”
“Oh and here’s a turn up for the books…”
Breaking the surface diving down in a row come three competitors- in the murk we can see Guntha and in the same moment two of the Wednesday Knights, Bob and, of course, Liandri.
“What a turn up- there’s nothing between these three- which of course begs the question, where’s Pumba?”
On the surface it seems The Raft of the Medusa has finally sunk. It looks like hell, the water park. Jonu the Monk is being rescued, Cinch, Felix and Lea already sit in the rescue boat- heads down, looking decidedly peaky.
The scene lurches right.
CRUNCH
Lying on the rocks beneath the cliff, lies Earl Grey, the Paladin, x-marks the spot unmoving- having slipped rather than jumped from the cliff.
Loud cheering fills the air and small children run about waving flags and yelping with joy.
Fatty and skinny lope onto the seen, some of the more unsavoury elements throw fruit.
“As I said to Old Nick the other night when he asked me how I liked my Paladin, ‘on the rocks’”
The picture lurches back to the waters surface again where Greta screams and gargles thrashing the water about her to a foam. The rescue boat tries to get close but is repelled by the Priests flailing arms, eventually Felix leans over and CLUNKS Greta on the head with his club- then drags her in.
Back under the surface of the water, down, deep down, right to the bottom of the Pond- there, beached on the bottom, is Pumba. Swimming like fury but getting nowhere at all- he’s a big lad, in a big way, it’d be quicker to climb over him than to run round.
In the background an Aquanaut points to the surface, Pumba shakes his head and continues to mime swimming.
The Aquanaut visibly shrugs, then sits down to see how this is going to end.
“What a mix there, that’s put paid to a chunk of them, let’s cut to the Cave and see who it is that emerges first from the Underwater passage.”
Bursting from the water comes a huge figure…
“It’s a Tozar, it must be a Tozar, Nerull be blessed, look who it is.”
It’s Bob.
“Where did he come from? And next up…”
Liandri sprints from the water, streaking after him comes Ding, then Guntha, then, of all people, Mallaria.
“She’s back, the Bitch is back… Mallaria’s making a late charge.”
The competitors emerge from the cave and into the light- in the distance the Squires can be seen holding their mounts.
Back to the runners and Bob is pulling ahead, halfway to the mounts and the mighty Ranger is not slowing down, more than twenty yards behind comes Ding, then Liandri, then Mallaria.
The crowd goes berserk.
“Let’s just mop up shall we, catch up with some of the also-rans.”
Back under the surface of Carimor Pond the underwater passage is plugged solid with a frenzy of kicking legs and waving arms- two Aquanauts attempt to alternatively shove then pull at the bolus of bodies- hoping to dislodge it.
On the surface we see at the Ponds edge, a line of exhausted and eliminated competitors- Donka, Sister Serka, Goland, Langley, Loki and Lomas all sit gasping for air- out of it all.
Suddenly the surface of the water explodes and Pumba is thrown a good fifteen feet in the air- blown up like a barrage balloon, he hangs in the air for a smidgin of a second, then back down again with a slap.
“Whoooo Hooo Crazy man, you can’t keep a good Tozar down.”
“Now let’s get back to the front…”
Bob arrives first, mounts in one swift movement and is off. Ding arrives next breathing hard he mounts double-quick and spurs his horse on. Liandri and Mallaria pull-up and throw themselves on their horses and head off at high speed.
“But what’s this, he’s catching… Bob, come on Bob, he’s behind you. BOB, COME ON BOB.”
Bob looks behind to see Ding’s black stallion closing fast, it’s all or nothing now. Liandri and Mallaria follow close behind. Behind them Sayon, Fred, Eke, Juno, Whirlwind, Jerky, Gollpin, Taz and Tam Flinders are all still in the race.
“We’ve got a faller…”
Trying to catch Liandri, Mallaria’s saddle (suspiciously) slips, and she tumbles overboard bouncing along the turf. The crazy barbarian’s not through however, she gathers up her horse and sets off again at full pelt.
“Oh my word…”
The scene shows Bob and Ding head to head, horses neck to neck- hurtling towards the Big Fence.
“OOOoo”
Closer.
“OOOooo”
Closer still.
“Oh.”
The scene shows the Big Fence, no horses, no Bob, no Ding.
“They’ve both refused, look, behind them, Liandri’s closing fast.”
Ding and Bob spur there mounts around and head back towards the Big Fence, Liandri is only a dozen yards away.
“THIS IS IT.”
Ding and Bob leap at the same time-
“OH”
“OH”
“OH”
“LIANDRI…”
“LIANDRI’S IN THIRD.. YOU COULDN’T SEPARATE THE FIRST TWO. OH NERULL, NERULL BE PRAISED, ALL HAIL TO THEE GOD OF DARKNESS- WHAT A FINSIH.”
The crowd converge on the riders as they stream across the finish line, Sayon comes in fourth, Guntha fifth, the rest pass in a jostling knot.
“There’s some fighting, I can see some fighting, claim and counter-claim, they’re fixing the result- this needs to be sorted out quickly… what am I saying. CREAM THAT SUCKER.”
Ding and Bob still in the saddle are side by side watching sundry barbarians trying to beat the stuffing out of sundry, well, others- any non-Tozar, which includes Mallaria. As for the sundry others- non-Tozar, including Mallaria of course, they’re knocking the stuffing out of the barbarians.
“Heap good race.”
“Yeah, my hangovers gone.”
The Tozar chuckles.
Bob chuckles back.
The two puff out their chests seemingly still fresh as a daisy.
“Who won?”
“We did.”
“Is Me We?”
(I’ll give you a pound if you can identify the poem contained (in full) in the above three lines- and who said it? First right answer.)
Bob nods.
“Good. Happy. Sleep now.”
Bob nods.
The two wander off, the result for them, clear.
“And there’s a right to Mallaria, she’s down, she’s down- I think that’s the en… no she’s back up again… OOOOH. That was low, it’s no longer Eke Thump, it’s EEEEk THUMP.”
Time passes, the Oerth stretches around the Sun, the combatants thin a little.
“That’s not what you should use a set of bellows for, they’ll need a good scrub. Oh that’s Mallaria down again, the Chief’s using, what’s that, I can’t see what he’s got in his hand- whatever it is he’s battering Mallaria with… it’s a Halfling, a Halfling- nice improvisation. I thought someday someone would find a use for them- I leave traps out for them at home. Once they get into your man-vault, sorry larder… Mallaria’s not moving, she looks to be,,, Oh I’m welling up, this sad… She’s up, she’s up. OOOh, that’s twice in the cockles- does that qualify as a special attack.”
More time passes until all the fighting has finished, the combatants are making small talk, eating sandwiches and drinking, a barbarian Ooompah band are kicking up a storm, the lead Goblin player in the midst of some crazy solo. In the background the sun sets on this idyllic scene.
In the foreground Mallaria and Eke take it in turns to punch each other in the face, there’s about a minute between each blow, they’re very tired.
No one is watching.
Eventually.
“Tired?”
“Yeah.”
The two straighten up and stare intently at each other, trying desperately not to collapse.
“Draw?”
“Draw.”
Eke Thump nods, then turns to leave.
“Dad.”
He turns back.
“Yes.”
The silence extends from a moment to somewhere between a minute and forever.
Eke Thump speaks again.
“Daughter.”
An even number of them smile, then heads bowed, they both minutely examine the ground beneath their feet.
The moment extends once again, till, as if at some unseen signal, the two simultaneously turn and walk away, in opposite directions.
Possibly forever.
Back at the party things are going swimmingly until some fool forgets and asks the question-
“Who won again?”
Soon after the Official Diviner is called, His Arch Magicness, Appalling Daniels.
“You’ll like this, not a lot.”
A Divine lottery is undertaken-
“And tonight laydees an genlemen we will be summoning… Drum roll.”
Several Tozars beat dead Goblins on any available surface- it’s more a drum tumble than a roll.
“WEE JAS.”
“This is Ham Slaad, for SCRY SPATS, yes you heard it folks- WEE JAS, the dark God of Magic- ostracised by the Magic Circle after pulling a Vrock out of his hat at a children’s party, with disastrous consequences. The Circle having calculated that the Vrock, if it continues to claim its Disability Benefit, will bankrupt all the nations of the Oerth in only half its lifespan. There were no winners that day, the foul Vulture Demon, was left a gibbering wreck and has no chances of ever working again. Interesting fact- twenty-two of the twenty-three, ‘butter wouldn’t melt in their mouth’s’ children went on to become Bards. Yes Bards, the most annoying know-it-all’s on this Nerull forsaken rock. WEE JAS, laydees an genlemen- a bad egg, some might say. Now over to the twenty third child from that terrifying and for an innocent Demon career ending party… Appalling Daniels.”
“You’ll like this, not a lot.”
The annoying Prestigitator shuffles about a bit, sashaying too and fro, waving his arms about a bit- annoying, as I say.
“And now my beautiful assistant… Debbie McGhee…”
A large, eight to nine foot tall- three quarter ton, creature shuffles onto the scene. It’s wearing a blond wig and a silver spangly costume, which leaves nothing to the imagination. It has huge Vulture-like wings.
And is gibbering and shaking like a leaf, nervously scanning the crowd, hypnotised by the far away flames in the eyes of every under five.
“The show must go on. The show must go on.”
It’s mantra as it glissades and vogues behind the Official Diviner.
“You’ll like this, not a lot.”
More swanning and gadding from the pair.
“Ab-Ra Ab-Ra
Cadabra
I’m gonna reach out
And grab ya.”
The clouds in the sky split in an instant, ripped apart and peeled back as if by some invisible hands.
It begins to rain.
White Bunny Rabbits
The face of a dark and mysterious figure appears in the wound in the sky, its huge hooked nose and angular features, tumbling black curls down to its shoulders, nestled beneath the tallest and blackest of top hats.
And in a booming voice-
“WHAT D’YEW WANT JIMMI?”
“Oh mighty WEE JAS, Dark God of etc. We your supplicants humbly do beg that you part the mists of time and with your Third Eye, Great Architect, tell us…”
“DA SECRETT OF ETERNUL LIF?”
“No, mighty ruler of impenetarabubble…”
“DA SECRETT OF DA OFFSYDE TRAP?”
“No, although… No your Great… Er… Bigness, the question we seek an answer to is…”
“I’M NAE TELLIN’ YA AGAIN WER DA REMOTE KONTROL FOR YA KRISTAL BALL IS, AN I’M NAE DEE-IN THAT THUNG WUR YA GET THE PORN CHANNUL AGIN. YU’LL JUS’ HAFTA’ SUBSCRIBE.”
Ham Slaad pops up suddenly-
“SCRY SPURTS LAYDEES AN GENLEMEN, A DIFFERENT POSITION EVERY WEEK- NEXT WEEK, GOAL SHOOTER.”
Then pops back down again.
“No mighty WEE JAS, you miserable big-mouthed blabberer, We, no scratch that, I want to know, no… DEMAND to know the winner of the 11 O’clock Carimor Steeplechase. You… you…”
The lightning stroke leaves behind an impenetrable snow of singed and burnt playing cards, and that electricity smell, the clouds of cards eventually clear- Daniels is gone.
Lying on his/her side is Debbie McGhee now minus wig and sans spangly costume- clutching at his/her heart.
“Me ol’ ticker.”
The Vrock dies, thereby saving the Magic Circle and safeguarding the future prosperity of all the nations of the Oerth, Thorsdays have always been odd days- ask Arthur Dent.
The crowd are stunned… still.
Wee Jas reaches down, his huge hand set to crush all those present- caught in the spotlight- paralyzed by fear.
Closer.
Closer.
Surely the end.
“PICK A CARD.”
No one moves.
“GO ON.”
Still no reaction.
“YOU’LL LIKE THIS.”
Wee Jas seems to be thinking.
“BUT NOT VERY MUCH.”
“NO THAT’S NOT RIGHT.”
“BUT IT RINGS A BELL.”
Liandri shuffles forward.
“LOOK, please, who bloody won?”
Wee Jas looks down and smiles.
“I’VE ANSWERED THAT.”
And retreats dragging back the clouds to seal the breach.
“What did he mean?”
A few smile, very few, none of the Wednesday Knights that’s for sure, except maybe Endrin, but he, as ever, is pretending.
There’s some more left of this turn- The Original and Best Wednesday Knights head off to adventure, but I’ll hold that over until next time- that’s enough. Sorry- intrusive author.
The above was cobbled together using an unforgettable source book called “Tournaments, Fayres and something or other”, by, “I can’t find it now”, who make a lot of good stuff- someone remind me please.
I’ve looked it up it’s called “Tournaments, Fairs & Taverns”, by Natural 20 Press, published by E.N. Publishing. There are some good rules there but it can get bogged down with a lot of dice rolling- although maybe that was my fault. The players certainly weren’t enamoured and were slavering to find something to “rend, maim… destroy”, as Mallaria eloquently put it.
And so endeth turn number 40.
Thanks to Jerry Sadowitz for his Wee Jas impression.
As the great Mr. Sadowitz once said to me- “Is that your hair, or is your head unravelling?”
Next turn… The continuing adventures of the Wednesday Knights in “Inheritance (A)Tax.”
Oh and Zan chooses this moment to devote himself to the Order of the Blinding Light, he goes away to train to become a Monk.
