The Biggie Smalls Chronicles, Part 8
Posted By: WotC_Huscarl, 2/5/2008 11:46:02 AM
After wiping out the goblins et. al. that were pestering the caravan, the merchants inside explained in weepy tones that their mistress and owner of the wagon had been dragged away by more goblins. A classic abduction scheme ...
Plenty of things set Biggie's blood a-boil, but kidnapping women is right up there, especially take-charge, curious women (which is how Biggie imagines them all; throw in some red hair and he's defenseless). With more determination and -- oh, let's just be honest here -- heroism than you could stuff into a body twice as tall and half as handsome, Biggie plunged into the forest primeval, heedless of whether his comrades followed behind. Injustice was loose and preying on semi-wealthy women, and if no one else cared, Biggie did! In the end, everyone else trooped along in the halfling's wake; shamed by his selfless courage, no doubt.
It was a tough slog through the woods. Those goblins were masters at concealing their tracks, but they were no match for Biggie's woodcraft. A few members of the party would claim later that the tracks were obvious, but I don't see any of them sporting Nature and Perception skills, so they're hardly the ones to judge such technical matters. Does Biggie tell Emm how to boss people around or tell Elias how to act aloof? No! Leave the specialties to the specialists, that's his motto. So what if he rolled only a 12 on his tracking check? At least he rolled the die ...
The trail led to a heap of vaguely castle-shaped ruins in the wilderness. The wilderness round these parts is fairly rife with ruins this time of year. It's a shame, really, because Asragard used to be a nice campaign setting. Then goblins moved in, property values plummeted, and castle blight followed just as sure as owlbears have beaks.
A pair of goblins stood guard outside what was once the castle gate. Seething with contempt for the fighting skill of goblins, Biggie bounded onto a boulder while bellowing like a banshee to announce his arrival. He followed that with a proper introduction delivered via monogrammed sling stone (lovin' that sling -- it was 2-for-2 so far). Inspired by Biggie's gallantry, Baredd charged the second guard and lopped off his topknot, along with the unsightly, knobby protrusion it was attached to.
The banshee imitation brought a rush of goblins scampering over the debris, squealing and slobbering their incoherent gibberish. If they're going to live in our wilderness, they least they could do is learn some trash-talk in Common. We chopped 'em down with ruthless efficiency, like farmers scything wheat -- righteous, enraged, revenge-bent farmers scything filthy, treacherous wheat.
With the meaty harvest mercilessly reaped and checked for loot, we pushed into the tumbled-down stones. There we discovered the caravan mistress -- tall, raven-haired, lithe, and with stunning endowments. Oh, she was imprisoned in a cage of flame, too, but Biggie didn't notice that until someone pointed it out. As we rushed to her rescue, the cage dropped through the floor, carrying her away from the salvation of Biggie's arms. What monstrous savagery! Has the wellspring of cruelty no bottom?
We'd find out soon enough.
Steve
