EN Story telling

[megamania]

I thought it would be neat to try this. I will start a story setting and of about a paragragh. Then someone else trys it building on what I said. Then another builds on that and so on. Then in a day or two collect it and put into story hour format?

Just a thought.

I will begin with:

The morning sun crept over the forest pushing back the creatures of the night. The four adventurers had another quiet night much to their happiness. The dwarf whom was on the last watch duty begins breakfast for the others.

(give name/appearances of dwarf and comrades)

 

[Darth Shoju]

story

Drakhar Lutgher set the worn metal frying pan over the fire. The remains of last night's fish supper began to smoke slightly in the blackened pan. Drakhar bent to add some beer from the party's keg to soften the meat, then straightened as he saw his family's battle helm sitting across the fire. He had worn it proudly in many battles, each dent and scratch a badge of honor. But last night, as he had returned to the campsite after gathering firewood, he had been horrified to see that the horns of his helm had been painted pink! Pink! It could only have been that sneeky little elf. He was always one for the pranks, thinking he was so amusing. And his fellow party members had only laughed as Drakhar had sputtered in rage. Well, by Moradin's Glorious Beard, they would regret that night!

Setting the beer keg back with the other supplies, Drakhar reached into his pack and retrieved his flask of Dwarven Rotgut. Let's see how much they laugh when they spend half the day clutching their bellys! thought the grizzled fighter as he poured the Dwarven alchohol into the pan, now cooling on rocks away from the fire...

 

[ejja_1]

The sing song voice of Celina Silvanis drifted to Drakher's ears, he winced as the elven bard appeared behind him and tussled his hair. "Your not still mad at me now are you Drakle? It was all in fun really. You know elderberry doesnt stain bone, so cheer up you sour puss."
Drakhar rounded on the elf." My heritage is not to be taken lightly elf! Many have died by my axe for lesser offenses."

 

[alsih2o]

the loud voices woke rix from his slumber. he should have known better than to travel with non-human races. always so passionate, always bickering never setting themselves directly to the goal. well, at least the dwarf was good with an axe, and that damned skinny elf had proved useful at least once, but the gnome? what possible use could a party of heroes have with a gnome?

if he ahd to slow their progress one more time to chat with a shrew or a vole he was going to make sure that blasted gnome became a burrowing mammal.

 

[Cthulhu's Librarian]

"By the light of Pelor, do you two have to start shouting at each other so early?" Finn Grovinger lay under an oak across the clearing from where the rest of the party had set up their camp. "Your bickering is enough to make my headache worse than it already is." He scratched at the 3 days worth of beard that he had accumulated since they had last slept under a roof. Where had he dropped his mace and armor the night before? This was looking like it was going to be another long day.

Drakhar turned to where the cleric had passed out the night before. ""Maybe if you didn't feel the need to get plastered after every battle and fall down in the dirt, you would be up early enough to start breakfast and let me sleep late for once."

(edit: spelling)

 

[Larry Fitz]

Gnorvald continued to pretend to be asleep. He steeled himself for the moment when he seemed to wake up, knowing that he must play his part, must seem to be cheery and addled. If the others realized the true nature of the adventure too soon all the planning of the past three generations of Gnor's clan would be for naught.

When questions about the glyphs they'd encountered in that abandoned temple came up last night, Celina had distracted everyone with song and merriment. Her timing was good, perhaps too good. Could she suspect? Or worse, could she possibly know? Gnor brushed that thought aside as he prepared himself to play the bumbling illusionist again. It was odd how they all seemed to play to type, the Elven bard, The Dwarven Warrior and the human "rogue" (less polite company might call him a thief). Gnor only hoped he chose the right three companions, and that with the help of the Lord of the Secrets in the Dark, that tey could come through this successfully.

 

[ejja_1]

Celina stuck his tounge out at Finn. " Maybe your head wouldnt hurt so much if you kept your hands to yourself!"
Celina pulled a lute from his back." Ill sing you all a song, that will make all the pain and fatigue disappear."
Celina strummed his lute, and hummed in tune.
" A nights reverie for you and me
Ale and wine all around
We danced and sang
And lept and sprang
Until we fell to the ground.

Now we wake and our heads do ache
And our stomachs protest and do growl
And the smell of breakfast by yon dwarf
Is nasty and yechy and foul.

But fear not my friends this is not the end
A smile on your lips will yet show
We all shall feast on carrot and greens
From my wonderfull garden were grown."

A frying pan narrowly missed Celina's head, and there was general moaning and cursing.

 

[Cthulhu's Librarian]

"Celina, knock that off before I make you disappear, and it WILL hurt. Give me a hand, will you? I think I dropped my breastplate and pack somewhere in the bushes here."

Finn was one of a new group of Clerics that served Pelor but were held at a distance by the temples. Young, strong, and continually in trouble, he had been picked up off the streets and brought into the fold as part of the churchs "Everlasting Light" program. He had proved a good student until the headmaster had told him to never forget his place, that he would always be at the bottom where the street urchans belonged. After he served his 3 weeks in solitary prayer for knocking the headmaster flat on his back, he was assigned to the travelling misionary group, given some supplies, and sent out into the world told only to return after reaching 100 converts. A fat chance he had of doing that, he could hardly remember to keep his things together, much less find someone who would lsiten to him preach. He had spent the last of his coin on drink, and it certainly showed. His armor was dented, his mace badly in need of polishing, and his clothes needed mending. And now he was here in the wilderness, trying to earn some fame and fortune and find his own way in the world.

 

[ejja_1]

Celina looked at finn and smiled. " It's leaning up against the other side of the tree your resting against, and just for the record Finny I wouldnt go into the bushes with you for all the gold in Lord Nemras treasury."
Drakhar took this opportunity to punch Celina in the gut as hard as he could, celina made a "wuffmp" noise as all the air exploded from his chest and he fell to his knees.
Drakher leaned close to Celina and whispered in his ear. " Id hate to be the one to have to rescue some poor elf from danger, you should be more carefull not to get in my way. Understand?"
Celina noded and gasped for air.
Finn laughed out loud, and then winced becuase his head was throbbing. He was able to find his gear scattered around the tree he had passed out on, his breast plate was wet with condensation and felt slimey as he put it on.
Finns mouth felt like it was lined with fur, and he threw up on his backpack as he was trying to get it on his back.
Drakher shook his head in disgust. " Humans or elves wich is worst?"

 

[Silver Moon]

Sniffing the air, Finn inquired "And what exactly is that I am smelling...has an odd smell to it?" "Just an old family recipe" Drakhar replies. "Well, as old as your family is I would expect that to be true of all your recipes" the man cheerfully answers.

Drakhar grabs his spoon and apportions equal amounts into the bowls of his companions, stating "Eat up, better when it's hot."

While still pretending to sleep, Gnorvald slinks his hand over towards his bowl and removes a sampling. He tastes the food and winces. "Good thing he's good with an axe, he can't cook worth a damn," he thought to himself.

Celina carefully takes in the aroma of the dish, agreeing with his earlier assessment, and taking a small sample of it. Whatever the dish was, Elvan cuisine it wasn't. The bard contemplates commenting on the dish, but reconsiders, fearing another friendly punch from his Dwarven companion. With great care Celina extracts a spice packet pouch, hoping to give the meal enough flavor to be able to eat at least some of it.

Finn approaches eating to the dish with the same abandon that he generally applies to life itself. Drakhar stifles a slight smirk as the man downs his fourth heaping spoonful. The cleric sudden stops chewing and looks up, a strange look now crossing his face. "Hit him sooner that I expected" the dwarf pondered.

A wide grin then crosses Finn's face, and he exclaims "That's it!" "What?" Drakhar snarls. Finn answers "The flavoring. Took me a bit of time to identify. New Rockhome Dwarven Rotgut, aged…18 years I'd say. This sample would be from a lot made for the Silversteel Tavern. General Balkar's personal family blend I believe."