BoldItalic
First Post
Perhaps we should give Cholmondley and his horse a happy ending?
D&D 5E Survivor Core Classes- Fighter Wins!
[MENTION=6777052]BoldItalic[/MENTION], [MENTION=29398]Lanefan[/MENTION], [MENTION=6801229]rgoodbb[/MENTION]:
Thank you, thank your, thank you, for a rollicking good romp!
Thank you, thank your, thank you, for a rollicking good romp!
The Old Crow
Explorer
That was indeed a very entertaining read. Thanks!
rgoodbb
Adventurer
Only if his steed is called Harrington and his awakened and negative pack mule is called Barnaby will I entertain the idea of writing on!
BoldItalic
First Post
You drive a hard bargain
The village of Norton Fitzwarren was dominated by an ancient hilltop fort surrounded by earthen ramparts. When Cholmondeley rode into the village to call at the manor house and pay his respects to the baron, there was panic. Not so much because of him, but because a dragon was busy occupying the hilltop fort and no-one down in the village knew what to do about it. Some were at the local temple demanding that the gods send them a knight, preferably in shining armour, to do battle with the beast; when Cholmondley turned up out of the blue, he was automatically assumed to be the one that the gods had sent. No-one was in the slightest bit interested in his search for a lady without her knife because short of finding one and feeding her to the dragon, it wasn't of pressing interest. He found himself riding up the hill to confront the dragon, urged on my a mob with pitchforks that was, however, keeping a safe distance behind him.
"Here we go again," grumbled Harrington.
The dragon's name was Flora. She was quite flattered by the attention and invited Cholmondeley in for tea. He explained the nature of his quest and Flora thought it sounded interesting and offered to accompany him on his adventures. She polymorphed herself into a fair damsel riding a white palfrey and they went together down the other side of the hill, away from the village, leaving the villagers wondering what had happened. In later years, legends grew up that both knight and dragon had disappeared under the ground where they could still be heard doing battle on windy afternoons of you listened in the right way.
On the road northwards ...
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rgoodbb
Adventurer
.....On the north road, moving southbound, Knife; the Assassin who started out male and turned female during the weirdest bar fight in the whole of Al Qathas, who had then been employed as a receptionist for Death of Classes, who had subsequently been fired as a receptionist for killing time by murdering a ham and cheese sandwich and who had, way back in the day, held a poisoned dagger, stabbed herself in the front with it, dropped the dagger and then disappeared.
Knife, was having a bad day. The Ex-Assassin had fallen upon misfortune (whoever she was) and had to make do with working for peanuts. Peanuts was the local guild master up here in Quagmire where they eat mud. She tried working in a zoo that only had one dog in it. It was a shitsu. One day she fell over and broke her neck. She never looked back since. Then she fell down a big hole. The local guard said they would look into it.
It wasn't until level 4 when she could finally take the Lucky feat. Why the hells couldn't she have been a variant human? Not a normal one but a variant one. She could have already been a Poledance Master. She could have picked up another language as well. What would she have chosen...Probably Draconic......
.....Flora was getting increasingly fed up listening to Barnaby the mule. He was so depressing. He kind of talked in a slow moany accent and never had a happy word to say about anything. She tried talking to Harrington but he just neighed and winnied. All mane and no brain she thought. "So let me get this straight: We are looking for a lady called knife who has dropped her knife. We have found the knife but lost Knife the lady. As a Knight, you wish to reunite, preferably this knight a knife with a Knife. How'my doing so far?"
"Yup". Replied the reuniting Knight this night. The entourage were travelling north on the northbound road..............
Knife, was having a bad day. The Ex-Assassin had fallen upon misfortune (whoever she was) and had to make do with working for peanuts. Peanuts was the local guild master up here in Quagmire where they eat mud. She tried working in a zoo that only had one dog in it. It was a shitsu. One day she fell over and broke her neck. She never looked back since. Then she fell down a big hole. The local guard said they would look into it.
It wasn't until level 4 when she could finally take the Lucky feat. Why the hells couldn't she have been a variant human? Not a normal one but a variant one. She could have already been a Poledance Master. She could have picked up another language as well. What would she have chosen...Probably Draconic......
.....Flora was getting increasingly fed up listening to Barnaby the mule. He was so depressing. He kind of talked in a slow moany accent and never had a happy word to say about anything. She tried talking to Harrington but he just neighed and winnied. All mane and no brain she thought. "So let me get this straight: We are looking for a lady called knife who has dropped her knife. We have found the knife but lost Knife the lady. As a Knight, you wish to reunite, preferably this knight a knife with a Knife. How'my doing so far?"
"Yup". Replied the reuniting Knight this night. The entourage were travelling north on the northbound road..............
BoldItalic
First Post
That's odd, thought Knife, that's something you don't see every day. A man and a dragon riding side-by-side?
She was so busy staring at the little party coming up the road that she tripped on a missing cobblestone and would have tumbled over except, being dead, she didn't. The thing about being dead, she had discovered, is that the universe ignores you and treats you as if you weren't there; it's as if you've been written out of all the equations. Sometimes this could be an advantage but mostly it was very inconvenient.
"That's odd," remarked Flora. "That's something you don't see every day. Up the road, there, by those trees, there's a dead human walking towards us."
Of course, they met. You knew they were going to, didn't you? Knife didn't want her knife back, though, because she'd given up being an Assassin. When you work for Death of Classes, albeit briefly, you don't get to keep your class. So she wasn't anything, really, which is why she was basically useless at everything.
Cholmondley brought her up to date with news of her two friends Ronni and Keyes. "They sent me to find you. They were worried about you, disappearing like that." Then he embroidered the story a little, to try to cheer Knife up. "They stole practically everything from everybody in the tavern. Then they stole the tavern. Well, partly. Why not go back and see them? We'll get you there."
"I suppose I might as well," agreed Knife wearily, scratching Barnaby's ears. He nuzzled her and they started to bond. They had a lot in common. Barnaby was grudgingly happy to let her to ride him, because being dead she weighed nothing and she was grudgingly happy to ride him because, having four feet, he could stumble over twice as many cobblestones and they could both be twice as miserable.
And so they all set off back to the Druid's Head. On the way, Flora did some little cantrips and actually made Knife laugh, despite herself. "Have you thought of retraining as a Wizard?" she asked, "I could teach you the basics."
She was so busy staring at the little party coming up the road that she tripped on a missing cobblestone and would have tumbled over except, being dead, she didn't. The thing about being dead, she had discovered, is that the universe ignores you and treats you as if you weren't there; it's as if you've been written out of all the equations. Sometimes this could be an advantage but mostly it was very inconvenient.
"That's odd," remarked Flora. "That's something you don't see every day. Up the road, there, by those trees, there's a dead human walking towards us."
Of course, they met. You knew they were going to, didn't you? Knife didn't want her knife back, though, because she'd given up being an Assassin. When you work for Death of Classes, albeit briefly, you don't get to keep your class. So she wasn't anything, really, which is why she was basically useless at everything.
Cholmondley brought her up to date with news of her two friends Ronni and Keyes. "They sent me to find you. They were worried about you, disappearing like that." Then he embroidered the story a little, to try to cheer Knife up. "They stole practically everything from everybody in the tavern. Then they stole the tavern. Well, partly. Why not go back and see them? We'll get you there."
"I suppose I might as well," agreed Knife wearily, scratching Barnaby's ears. He nuzzled her and they started to bond. They had a lot in common. Barnaby was grudgingly happy to let her to ride him, because being dead she weighed nothing and she was grudgingly happy to ride him because, having four feet, he could stumble over twice as many cobblestones and they could both be twice as miserable.
And so they all set off back to the Druid's Head. On the way, Flora did some little cantrips and actually made Knife laugh, despite herself. "Have you thought of retraining as a Wizard?" she asked, "I could teach you the basics."
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Lanefan
Victoria Rules
As he rode along, Cholmondley's not-so-brainy brain was trying its best to think over a problem of morals and was as usual getting nearly nowhere. You see, he still had Knife's knife and felt honour-bound to give it back to her now that he had finally found her...or what was left of her. But she had refused to take it, yet it didn't truly belong to Cholmondley either; and so what was a noble Cavalier to do? A ponderous problem, this.
Also, somewhere along here he had finally realized he'd come away from that night at the Frolicking Frog down a few weapons, and had no idea where they had gone. He hoped they were still at the tavern, safe in a lost-and-found box somewhere, but even his limited mind knew quite well that this was unlikely at best.
Flora, on the other hand, had become rather smitten with the dashing knight; and was busily trying to think about what it would take to lure him back to her lair for an orgy of treasure-counting and rolling in gold pieces...but first, this living dead person needed to be dropped off somewhere, probably at this tavern they kept talking about.
And so this strange little band rode on undisturbed, until about a mile from the tavern when out of the woods came charging..........
Cavalier (Cholmondley) - heavy armour, empty scabbards, and a bloodstained knife
Commoner (Knife, ex-Assassin) - nothing, including mass or weight
Dragon (Flora) - a white palfrey
Horse (Harrington) - saddle, tack, and harness...and Cholmondley in said saddle
Mule (Barnaby) - nothing...and a weightless Knife
Also, somewhere along here he had finally realized he'd come away from that night at the Frolicking Frog down a few weapons, and had no idea where they had gone. He hoped they were still at the tavern, safe in a lost-and-found box somewhere, but even his limited mind knew quite well that this was unlikely at best.
Flora, on the other hand, had become rather smitten with the dashing knight; and was busily trying to think about what it would take to lure him back to her lair for an orgy of treasure-counting and rolling in gold pieces...but first, this living dead person needed to be dropped off somewhere, probably at this tavern they kept talking about.
And so this strange little band rode on undisturbed, until about a mile from the tavern when out of the woods came charging..........
Cavalier (Cholmondley) - heavy armour, empty scabbards, and a bloodstained knife
Commoner (Knife, ex-Assassin) - nothing, including mass or weight
Dragon (Flora) - a white palfrey
Horse (Harrington) - saddle, tack, and harness...and Cholmondley in said saddle
Mule (Barnaby) - nothing...and a weightless Knife
BoldItalic
First Post
Sorry, clicked the wrong button. Not my turn again today.
rgoodbb
Adventurer
when out of the woods came charging..........
Char-Ging was the regional Tax collector and as such she was a powerful force.
She calmly strode from the shade and onto the road, positioned herself to block the travellers and slowly lifted her head, her wide brimmed hat eventually revealing her serious face. When the party neared, Char-Ging's eyes flashed a brilliant white and the entire party stopped still. No save. How annoying is that? They could not move. Not the Cavalier, nor the Dragon or even the stubborn mule.
"You owe the Queen 4,000 gold pieces....Each." stated the tax collector, fan in one hand, wafting away the heat and the insects.
"How do we want to do this?" asked the Dragon.
"Wait. You cannot say that. I am not dead yet." Replied Char-Ging
"What? I'm confused. Wh....Oh no. Not how do you want to do this. How do we want do no this."
"Ah. My mistake. I thought you'd had a silent but critical role against me. So. Seemingly, you must pay up or return."
"I would like to Gauge"
"Gauge what?"
"Do you work Thursdays?"
"No. You know that is my day off" Replied the tax collector. Everyone knew that about them.
"Is it Thursday yet? No that's tomorrow. so what would you do then?"
"I walk away."
"Well it looks like we have a day's rest before we can move on."
So the bizarre party settled and camped for a day of rest, waiting for Cher-Ging to move on. A certain Dragon taught a certain Non-assassin, non-knife-wielding, non-alive person some magic with potent and mixed effects.
Char-Ging was the regional Tax collector and as such she was a powerful force.
She calmly strode from the shade and onto the road, positioned herself to block the travellers and slowly lifted her head, her wide brimmed hat eventually revealing her serious face. When the party neared, Char-Ging's eyes flashed a brilliant white and the entire party stopped still. No save. How annoying is that? They could not move. Not the Cavalier, nor the Dragon or even the stubborn mule.
"You owe the Queen 4,000 gold pieces....Each." stated the tax collector, fan in one hand, wafting away the heat and the insects.
"How do we want to do this?" asked the Dragon.
"Wait. You cannot say that. I am not dead yet." Replied Char-Ging
"What? I'm confused. Wh....Oh no. Not how do you want to do this. How do we want do no this."
"Ah. My mistake. I thought you'd had a silent but critical role against me. So. Seemingly, you must pay up or return."
"I would like to Gauge"
"Gauge what?"
"Do you work Thursdays?"
"No. You know that is my day off" Replied the tax collector. Everyone knew that about them.
"Is it Thursday yet? No that's tomorrow. so what would you do then?"
"I walk away."
"Well it looks like we have a day's rest before we can move on."
So the bizarre party settled and camped for a day of rest, waiting for Cher-Ging to move on. A certain Dragon taught a certain Non-assassin, non-knife-wielding, non-alive person some magic with potent and mixed effects.
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