Of Sound Mind the Halfling Way
- Thread starter the Jester
- Start date
the Jester
Legend
The Yips Arrive
The screams of our heroes serve to set off a panic, and the folk of Blackwood are screaming as they run indoors. Sandy cries for assistance- surely the town (pop. 99) must have some warriors- but the folk are stampeding like a pack of lemmings. Doors are slamming, shutters are being closed.
The judges of the jam contest scatter as well. Some contestants lurch under the tables, but most sprint for some sort of shelter. The cries of “Kobolds are coming!” have put some spring in their step, that’s for sure. Only Airhead Ed remains at the table, bawling her eyes out.
Our heroes climb the watch tower again. If only there was a watch- but no. With the breakdown of authority in the Dark Empire, towns like Blackwood are on their own.
Except for the rare occasions when they have a brave pack of halfling defenders, that is.
From the watchtower, Martini draws out his bow; at the base of the watchtower, Federico pulls forth his crossbow. An arrow is knocked and a crank turns, drawing back the crossbow’s string.
The kobolds- more than a dozen, but most in hiding; how many are there?- are advancing into the town, gradually coming towards the square. From their vantage point, the heroes can see the back side of the Displacer Beast tavern, and Trinia nudges Martini and points.
A window in the back of the bar opens, and a figure struggles through and starts running.
Three of the kobolds burst from cover and start towards the figure.
Martini and Federico start firing arrows at the lead kobold. The little dog-folk are moving fast. Federico’s bolt sails directly at one of the kobolds, but its hand knocks it away before it has a chance to hit! “Oh no, I’m scared,” whimpers Federico as he fires. He doesn’t want to fight his own kind- but he will!
Unnoticed, in the center of the square, Airhead Ed sweeps all the jam entries from the table into her backpack. Wailing, she ties her bag shut and stuffs it out of sight under the bench she’s sitting on.
The fleeing figure, catching a glimpse of the missiles firing at the kobolds over his head, veers towards the tower. He’s running as fast as he can, but the kobolds are closing steadily. Sandy, having descended to the ground, fires a bullet from his sling; but it sails past his target ineffectually. Trinia starts descending the watch tower’s ladder.
Federico mounts his riding dog (Ethel) and rushes towards a building for cover, but one of the kobolds has turned towards him. “Arf, oh no!” Federico cries in distress.
“Come, brother!” the strange kobold cries. “We will free you!” And he makes a strange gesture, one hand in a first crossing the other- it’s fast, and Feddie only partially catches it.
The running figure has finally reached the base of the tower, two kobolds yipping right behind him. Our heroes recognize him as Tanthos, the strange man with an affinity for Ferax the dragon and kobolds that they met previously in the Displacer Beast. “You!” Martini exclaims, but Tanthos, fear in his eye, ignores the halfling and starts scrambling up the ladder.
”Hey!” Trinia yells at him. “I’m coming down, you idiot!” The kobold-f***er (as the party has begun to mentally call him) ignores her and keeps climbing. Cursing, she ascends back to the platform at the top to let him pass.
Martini, meanwhile, steps up with his halfling-sized blades and rapidly cuts one of the kobolds down to size. “Yip!” it cries, as he stabs it through the spleen. Ethel (Federico’s dog) meanwhile tears another of the kobolds down; the party’s two dogs and wolf had all attacked the second kobold, using dog pack tactics to take it down, though it did kick the wolf hard enough to knock it out cold.
The third visible kobold cries, “Peace! We mean no harm, we want only him.” And he points at Tanthos, who is cowering above on the tower (which Trinia is again descending).
“He is a kobold-f***er!” Martini shouts. “I knew it!”
Next Time: How will our heroes negotiate a cessation to hostilities? What will they do to, for or with Tanthos? And will Ed get away with the jam??
The screams of our heroes serve to set off a panic, and the folk of Blackwood are screaming as they run indoors. Sandy cries for assistance- surely the town (pop. 99) must have some warriors- but the folk are stampeding like a pack of lemmings. Doors are slamming, shutters are being closed.
The judges of the jam contest scatter as well. Some contestants lurch under the tables, but most sprint for some sort of shelter. The cries of “Kobolds are coming!” have put some spring in their step, that’s for sure. Only Airhead Ed remains at the table, bawling her eyes out.
Our heroes climb the watch tower again. If only there was a watch- but no. With the breakdown of authority in the Dark Empire, towns like Blackwood are on their own.
Except for the rare occasions when they have a brave pack of halfling defenders, that is.
From the watchtower, Martini draws out his bow; at the base of the watchtower, Federico pulls forth his crossbow. An arrow is knocked and a crank turns, drawing back the crossbow’s string.
The kobolds- more than a dozen, but most in hiding; how many are there?- are advancing into the town, gradually coming towards the square. From their vantage point, the heroes can see the back side of the Displacer Beast tavern, and Trinia nudges Martini and points.
A window in the back of the bar opens, and a figure struggles through and starts running.
Three of the kobolds burst from cover and start towards the figure.
Martini and Federico start firing arrows at the lead kobold. The little dog-folk are moving fast. Federico’s bolt sails directly at one of the kobolds, but its hand knocks it away before it has a chance to hit! “Oh no, I’m scared,” whimpers Federico as he fires. He doesn’t want to fight his own kind- but he will!
Unnoticed, in the center of the square, Airhead Ed sweeps all the jam entries from the table into her backpack. Wailing, she ties her bag shut and stuffs it out of sight under the bench she’s sitting on.
The fleeing figure, catching a glimpse of the missiles firing at the kobolds over his head, veers towards the tower. He’s running as fast as he can, but the kobolds are closing steadily. Sandy, having descended to the ground, fires a bullet from his sling; but it sails past his target ineffectually. Trinia starts descending the watch tower’s ladder.
Federico mounts his riding dog (Ethel) and rushes towards a building for cover, but one of the kobolds has turned towards him. “Arf, oh no!” Federico cries in distress.
“Come, brother!” the strange kobold cries. “We will free you!” And he makes a strange gesture, one hand in a first crossing the other- it’s fast, and Feddie only partially catches it.
The running figure has finally reached the base of the tower, two kobolds yipping right behind him. Our heroes recognize him as Tanthos, the strange man with an affinity for Ferax the dragon and kobolds that they met previously in the Displacer Beast. “You!” Martini exclaims, but Tanthos, fear in his eye, ignores the halfling and starts scrambling up the ladder.
”Hey!” Trinia yells at him. “I’m coming down, you idiot!” The kobold-f***er (as the party has begun to mentally call him) ignores her and keeps climbing. Cursing, she ascends back to the platform at the top to let him pass.
Martini, meanwhile, steps up with his halfling-sized blades and rapidly cuts one of the kobolds down to size. “Yip!” it cries, as he stabs it through the spleen. Ethel (Federico’s dog) meanwhile tears another of the kobolds down; the party’s two dogs and wolf had all attacked the second kobold, using dog pack tactics to take it down, though it did kick the wolf hard enough to knock it out cold.
The third visible kobold cries, “Peace! We mean no harm, we want only him.” And he points at Tanthos, who is cowering above on the tower (which Trinia is again descending).
“He is a kobold-f***er!” Martini shouts. “I knew it!”
Next Time: How will our heroes negotiate a cessation to hostilities? What will they do to, for or with Tanthos? And will Ed get away with the jam??
Mathew_Freeman
Adventurer
Bizarre, yet strangely addictive is this story hour. Massed halflings battling kobolds...imagine the comedy potential...
the Jester
Legend
Lela said:
For the record, that line was a direct quote from the pc.
the Jester
Legend
A Little Diplomacy
Our heroes, now all on the ground, bind the kobold and begin nervously questioning it. Sandy is all too aware that there are more- probably many more- hiding out around the outskirts of the town.
“What do you want? Who are you?” Federico asks.
“I am Yip!” the kobold replies. “And we simply want him- be wary of him!”
Turning, our heroes see that Tanthos has descended the ladder and started trying to sidle away. “Just hold on there,” Sandy snaps. “Why don’t you just come on over here where we can keep an eye on you.”
“They attacked me! I’m leaving-“
“Nobody’s going anywhere,” Sandy says dangerously. “So come over here until we decide what to do with you.”
Grumbling, Tanthos complies.
“Now what’s the story?” asks Federico, and Yip- or perhaps I should say, the Yip- unfolds his tale.* It turns out that he is but one of an entire order, the Order of Yip, that consists of good-aligned kobolds devoted to Galador and raised in secret by the Church. Tanthos, apparently, “abused the hospitality” of the Yips, and worse acts are strongly implied. He is said to have “unnatural and abominable” interests in reptile-folk such as kobolds.
Tanthos protests that he is a follower of Ferax the Terrible,** and that he loves and respects kobolds. He means them no harm; he wishes only to aid them in achieving more power. Surely he cannot be faulted for that. All his differences with the Yips are merely philosophical, and any attempt to portray them as more than that is mere sophistry. After all, he didn’t actually do anything to them, did he?
Our heroes confer, carefully watching the nervous dragon priest and the calm, bound kobold. By now people have emerged from their houses and are standing around nervously, and Sandy and Martini have set about trying to organize a defense, in case the kobolds attack. But determining what to do with the two prisoners seems of primary importance.
In the end, our heroes release Tanthos and tell him to get out of town. “I don’t like you,” grumbles Sandy, “and I don’t trust you. So why don’t you take what head start you’ve got and get moving?”
Tanthos eagerly does just that.
Then, after another few minutes of discussion about the fate of the Yip, the party releases him. “Well, take care,” Federico says, “and stay out of trouble. And watch out for that guy.”
***
Airhead Ed is crying her pretty blonde head off. She sees the Yip moving off, released by Federico, and once he’s got a good head start she cries out, “They took the jam!”
As the townsfolk finally take notice of her, still sitting there at the table, they notice debris around her: overturned plates, spilled cups, pastries spilled on the ground.
“What?!” cries a halfling from the crowd.
”They took the jam!” Ed wails again.
“NO!” yells the halfling, springing forward, and scrambles through the scattered crockery, looking for something. He does not find it. “They took my jam!” he cries.
Clearly, this is Benjy Peachtree.
*I stole the Yips hook line and sinker from Arwink’s game. Check out his story hour for the original version.
**Ferax is a red dragon who was around a million years ago to witness the ignition of the sun. He lives on Strogass and claims an entire mountain range as his immediate lair- i.e. enter at your own risk. Ferax is probably the most powerful non-divine ranked entity you’ve read about in my campaign, no matter what you’ve read. He’s also probably more powerful than most lesser and intermediate gods. I don’t have stats on him, but I’ll guesstimate his CR at around 100 or so. Ferax is known for wiping out all the dwarves in twelve thaneholds (dwarven mountain cities) in a week and claiming all their treasure for his sleeping pile.
Next Time: The jam contest concludes!
Our heroes, now all on the ground, bind the kobold and begin nervously questioning it. Sandy is all too aware that there are more- probably many more- hiding out around the outskirts of the town.
“What do you want? Who are you?” Federico asks.
“I am Yip!” the kobold replies. “And we simply want him- be wary of him!”
Turning, our heroes see that Tanthos has descended the ladder and started trying to sidle away. “Just hold on there,” Sandy snaps. “Why don’t you just come on over here where we can keep an eye on you.”
“They attacked me! I’m leaving-“
“Nobody’s going anywhere,” Sandy says dangerously. “So come over here until we decide what to do with you.”
Grumbling, Tanthos complies.
“Now what’s the story?” asks Federico, and Yip- or perhaps I should say, the Yip- unfolds his tale.* It turns out that he is but one of an entire order, the Order of Yip, that consists of good-aligned kobolds devoted to Galador and raised in secret by the Church. Tanthos, apparently, “abused the hospitality” of the Yips, and worse acts are strongly implied. He is said to have “unnatural and abominable” interests in reptile-folk such as kobolds.
Tanthos protests that he is a follower of Ferax the Terrible,** and that he loves and respects kobolds. He means them no harm; he wishes only to aid them in achieving more power. Surely he cannot be faulted for that. All his differences with the Yips are merely philosophical, and any attempt to portray them as more than that is mere sophistry. After all, he didn’t actually do anything to them, did he?
Our heroes confer, carefully watching the nervous dragon priest and the calm, bound kobold. By now people have emerged from their houses and are standing around nervously, and Sandy and Martini have set about trying to organize a defense, in case the kobolds attack. But determining what to do with the two prisoners seems of primary importance.
In the end, our heroes release Tanthos and tell him to get out of town. “I don’t like you,” grumbles Sandy, “and I don’t trust you. So why don’t you take what head start you’ve got and get moving?”
Tanthos eagerly does just that.
Then, after another few minutes of discussion about the fate of the Yip, the party releases him. “Well, take care,” Federico says, “and stay out of trouble. And watch out for that guy.”
***
Airhead Ed is crying her pretty blonde head off. She sees the Yip moving off, released by Federico, and once he’s got a good head start she cries out, “They took the jam!”
As the townsfolk finally take notice of her, still sitting there at the table, they notice debris around her: overturned plates, spilled cups, pastries spilled on the ground.
“What?!” cries a halfling from the crowd.
”They took the jam!” Ed wails again.
“NO!” yells the halfling, springing forward, and scrambles through the scattered crockery, looking for something. He does not find it. “They took my jam!” he cries.
Clearly, this is Benjy Peachtree.
*I stole the Yips hook line and sinker from Arwink’s game. Check out his story hour for the original version.
**Ferax is a red dragon who was around a million years ago to witness the ignition of the sun. He lives on Strogass and claims an entire mountain range as his immediate lair- i.e. enter at your own risk. Ferax is probably the most powerful non-divine ranked entity you’ve read about in my campaign, no matter what you’ve read. He’s also probably more powerful than most lesser and intermediate gods. I don’t have stats on him, but I’ll guesstimate his CR at around 100 or so. Ferax is known for wiping out all the dwarves in twelve thaneholds (dwarven mountain cities) in a week and claiming all their treasure for his sleeping pile.
Next Time: The jam contest concludes!
the Jester
Legend
Escape with the Jam!
There’s a great loud hubbub in the town of Blackwood. A calamitous noise rises from the town square as the folk of the little community realize that their contest has been defiled. The wailing of a weeping halfling judge, the angry screaming of a young Peachtree upstart, and the cries of outrage of the folk that actually live in Blackwood mingle like strangers at a party, combining into a heck of a riot.
While the folk of Blackwood are so distracted, the kobolds hiding in the trees and shadows and bushes surrounding the small town make their retreat. The few townsfolk that spot them do not dare try to fight, though a single dog does bark furiously at them; and they easily escape.
In the square, a great commotion is rolling around the shocked populace.
“They took all the jam!” Airhead Ed moans, a bubble of snot popping momentarily out of her nose. Tears run rivers down her face. Truly, this is a drama queen at work.
Benjy Peachtree is digging through the debris of the table for any sign of his jam, but it is quite clearly gone. “No...” he groans. “It’s gone. They’ve taken it. Well... I’ll have to make another batch, but so early...”
“What about the contest?” Ed asks the folk of the town. Two dozen voices start shouting at once.
“It’s ruined!” “Can’t we just judge the ones that were sampled so far?” “My entry never even got tasted!” “We could do it over-“ “It’s an omen, we shouldn’t-“ Too many, jumbled all together, all overlapping. The judges gather around Ed and speak in a circle.
“The contest has been ruined,” one of the judges (an old man) says, his voice quavering.
“We can’t let it be ruined!” a younger lass replies.
“Maybe we can just put it off for a while,” says Ed.
“Yes,” quavers the old man, “if we give the folk who entered time to make another batch-“
“But that’s a whole year for those of us who need to wait for berries or fruit to ripen,” points out one of the entrants, who has sidled over to listen to the deliberations.
“About six months, really,” the lass replies. “Most of the berries will ripen in the summer and be ready by autumn-“
“A year,” the entrant says firmly, “for those of us with spring fruit, flowers or berries in our jam.”
“Ah.”
They go around and around for a while. Finally, they decide to reschedule the contest for ten months hence- almost everyone is happy with that, but the entrant with the spring flowers, fruit or berries in his jam leaves with a sour face.
After resolving that issue, Ed rejoins the rest of the party. They’re talking to Benjy Peachtree, who is still bemoaning his loss.
“Maybe we could track the kobolds down for you,” Ed offers.
“And recover your jam,” adds Federico.
Oh, brilliant! thinks Sandy.
***
Meanwhile, at the family wagons, Thelonious- the adopted human member of the Flapjacks clan- is training under the tutelage of one Deputy Howe Slinger.* There are halfling Sheriffs that patrol the plains, and each picks out a handful of deputies to assist them in their jobs. This particular deputy happened across the Flapjacks wagons and stopped for a visit. Being one of the famous Slinger clan, he was a crack shot with thrown daggers, his small bow, a crossbow, a sling and just about anything else he threw or fired. While he was showing off, Thelonious found himself very impressed, and after dessert that night he approached the deputy shyly. He spoke in Strogassian, which the deputy understood and replied in, and asked for some lessons.
The training commenced.
Thelonious was an apt student. He was already a decent shot with a bow, but under Slinger’s tutelage he became even better. Soon he was able to fire shots with remarkable speed- a little clumsily, but sometimes quantity would serve better than quality.
He thought often of his friends and the dog- how was lil ol Federico doing, anyway? He sighed. What about some of Mama’s home-cooked pancakes wrapped round bacon? Mmmm!
It would be some days yet before news of their forthcoming disaster to reach him.
***
Whistling merrily as they made their way towards the Flapjacks wagons, our heroes are fairly happy. They got away clean, and even though Ed hasn’t yet revealed the stolen jam, the party’s fairly certain she at least got a sample.
As they leave Blackwood behind them, Ed turns to Sandy. “Can you keep a secret?” she pipes up.
“Of course!” Sandy answers. “It’s part of my job.”
“But will you?”
He laughs. “Sure!”
“I got the jam!” And Ed produces her backpack and opens it-
There are awed sighs and the sound of inward drawn breath. It is magnificent.
“So much jam,” moans Martini, salivating.
“But- which one’s Peachtree’s?” Sandy’s words draw the group up short. They dig through the collection, finding that many are labeled- and indeed, one is tagged with Benjy Peachtree’s mark!
“Success!” beams Trinia.
“Let’s have a snack!” Ed whips out some pastries, and they proceed to sample some of their bounty- leaving the Peachtree jam, for the moment, untested.
When they break for dinner they look over the Peachtree jam a little more thoroughly. It’s an odd dark purplish-grey color. They debate sampling it, but Ed refuses, saying that she doesn’t think it’s a good idea. “We need to give it to Leanne Bakeswell,” she says.
“There’s a lot in the jar,” muses Martini.
“Yeah, come on, let’s just try it,” urges Sandy.
“Oh, I don’t know, arf,” moans the kobold.
Ed refuses. “Not yet,” she says.
***
That night, Airhead Ed takes the first watch. Once the others have all fallen asleep, she quietly pulls the jar of Peachtree jam out and looks at it longingly for a moment. If ever Ed has struggled with temptation, now is the moment. She almost puts it back in her pack, then stops, turning it in her hands. What is in this supposedly fantastic jam? So fantastic that it scares the Bakeswells! It’s just got to be good...
Unable to resist, Airhead Ed opens the jar.
A fragrance springs forth like nothing she’s ever smelled before. “Ahh,” she murmurs to herself, surprised. It smells good. Like- like- like nothing else she’s ever smelled. Sweet, with a... she can’t pin down a description of it. It’s a heady scent that almost bowls her over. It’s as intense of an experience as if she’d never even heard of alcohol and then someone fed her a shot, a sort of What the hell was that? that she can’t explain.
Slowly she dips a finger into the jam.
YUM!
If it smells good, it tastes a thousand times better. Instantly she knows that this is the best jam she’s ever had. There is no other competitor that matches up to it- and she just sampled a ton of very good jams earlier in the day.
For every hint of mysterious goodness in the scent there is a full-fledged swatch of indescribable (but excellent) sweet flavor in the jam. It’s so good that she just can’t resist taking another taste.
Then she sighs and puts the jam away, screwing the jar on tight and wrapping it in a shirt before wedging it deep in her backpack.
Then she proceeds to drink like a dwarf for almost three hours, staying on watch for more than her turn and getting trashed. Finally she stumbles over and wakes Martini up, gets loud and obnoxious and wakes up the others, and at last gets sucked down into bed by Trinia. Soon the two of them (and Trinia’s wolf) are snoring in a pile and Martini is the only one awake.
Soon enough he finds the jam, and puts just a little on a cracker.
“Wow,” he whispers as the strange flavor hits his tongue. “Wow.”
***
In the morning, Ed has trouble getting up. She’s badly hung over. The group encounters a group of dwarves with a wagon with a thrown wheel and Federico buffoons himself for their edification, but soon they move on deeper into the plains.
None of them spot the low, sleek feline form that follows them through the tall grass.
*His player missed several sessions in a row, so we just filled in the details on where Thelonious was for those sessions during last night’s game. I just thought it would be a good thing to throw in here, because it underlines a couple of things I hadn’t even realized about the character- until he hit 2nd level he didn’t even speak halfling! (The player described him as “like the Mexican half-brother who doesn’t speak english.”)
Next Time: Bad kitty!!
There’s a great loud hubbub in the town of Blackwood. A calamitous noise rises from the town square as the folk of the little community realize that their contest has been defiled. The wailing of a weeping halfling judge, the angry screaming of a young Peachtree upstart, and the cries of outrage of the folk that actually live in Blackwood mingle like strangers at a party, combining into a heck of a riot.
While the folk of Blackwood are so distracted, the kobolds hiding in the trees and shadows and bushes surrounding the small town make their retreat. The few townsfolk that spot them do not dare try to fight, though a single dog does bark furiously at them; and they easily escape.
In the square, a great commotion is rolling around the shocked populace.
“They took all the jam!” Airhead Ed moans, a bubble of snot popping momentarily out of her nose. Tears run rivers down her face. Truly, this is a drama queen at work.
Benjy Peachtree is digging through the debris of the table for any sign of his jam, but it is quite clearly gone. “No...” he groans. “It’s gone. They’ve taken it. Well... I’ll have to make another batch, but so early...”
“What about the contest?” Ed asks the folk of the town. Two dozen voices start shouting at once.
“It’s ruined!” “Can’t we just judge the ones that were sampled so far?” “My entry never even got tasted!” “We could do it over-“ “It’s an omen, we shouldn’t-“ Too many, jumbled all together, all overlapping. The judges gather around Ed and speak in a circle.
“The contest has been ruined,” one of the judges (an old man) says, his voice quavering.
“We can’t let it be ruined!” a younger lass replies.
“Maybe we can just put it off for a while,” says Ed.
“Yes,” quavers the old man, “if we give the folk who entered time to make another batch-“
“But that’s a whole year for those of us who need to wait for berries or fruit to ripen,” points out one of the entrants, who has sidled over to listen to the deliberations.
“About six months, really,” the lass replies. “Most of the berries will ripen in the summer and be ready by autumn-“
“A year,” the entrant says firmly, “for those of us with spring fruit, flowers or berries in our jam.”
“Ah.”
They go around and around for a while. Finally, they decide to reschedule the contest for ten months hence- almost everyone is happy with that, but the entrant with the spring flowers, fruit or berries in his jam leaves with a sour face.
After resolving that issue, Ed rejoins the rest of the party. They’re talking to Benjy Peachtree, who is still bemoaning his loss.
“Maybe we could track the kobolds down for you,” Ed offers.
“And recover your jam,” adds Federico.
Oh, brilliant! thinks Sandy.
***
Meanwhile, at the family wagons, Thelonious- the adopted human member of the Flapjacks clan- is training under the tutelage of one Deputy Howe Slinger.* There are halfling Sheriffs that patrol the plains, and each picks out a handful of deputies to assist them in their jobs. This particular deputy happened across the Flapjacks wagons and stopped for a visit. Being one of the famous Slinger clan, he was a crack shot with thrown daggers, his small bow, a crossbow, a sling and just about anything else he threw or fired. While he was showing off, Thelonious found himself very impressed, and after dessert that night he approached the deputy shyly. He spoke in Strogassian, which the deputy understood and replied in, and asked for some lessons.
The training commenced.
Thelonious was an apt student. He was already a decent shot with a bow, but under Slinger’s tutelage he became even better. Soon he was able to fire shots with remarkable speed- a little clumsily, but sometimes quantity would serve better than quality.
He thought often of his friends and the dog- how was lil ol Federico doing, anyway? He sighed. What about some of Mama’s home-cooked pancakes wrapped round bacon? Mmmm!
It would be some days yet before news of their forthcoming disaster to reach him.
***
Whistling merrily as they made their way towards the Flapjacks wagons, our heroes are fairly happy. They got away clean, and even though Ed hasn’t yet revealed the stolen jam, the party’s fairly certain she at least got a sample.
As they leave Blackwood behind them, Ed turns to Sandy. “Can you keep a secret?” she pipes up.
“Of course!” Sandy answers. “It’s part of my job.”
“But will you?”
He laughs. “Sure!”
“I got the jam!” And Ed produces her backpack and opens it-
There are awed sighs and the sound of inward drawn breath. It is magnificent.
“So much jam,” moans Martini, salivating.
“But- which one’s Peachtree’s?” Sandy’s words draw the group up short. They dig through the collection, finding that many are labeled- and indeed, one is tagged with Benjy Peachtree’s mark!
“Success!” beams Trinia.
“Let’s have a snack!” Ed whips out some pastries, and they proceed to sample some of their bounty- leaving the Peachtree jam, for the moment, untested.
When they break for dinner they look over the Peachtree jam a little more thoroughly. It’s an odd dark purplish-grey color. They debate sampling it, but Ed refuses, saying that she doesn’t think it’s a good idea. “We need to give it to Leanne Bakeswell,” she says.
“There’s a lot in the jar,” muses Martini.
“Yeah, come on, let’s just try it,” urges Sandy.
“Oh, I don’t know, arf,” moans the kobold.
Ed refuses. “Not yet,” she says.
***
That night, Airhead Ed takes the first watch. Once the others have all fallen asleep, she quietly pulls the jar of Peachtree jam out and looks at it longingly for a moment. If ever Ed has struggled with temptation, now is the moment. She almost puts it back in her pack, then stops, turning it in her hands. What is in this supposedly fantastic jam? So fantastic that it scares the Bakeswells! It’s just got to be good...
Unable to resist, Airhead Ed opens the jar.
A fragrance springs forth like nothing she’s ever smelled before. “Ahh,” she murmurs to herself, surprised. It smells good. Like- like- like nothing else she’s ever smelled. Sweet, with a... she can’t pin down a description of it. It’s a heady scent that almost bowls her over. It’s as intense of an experience as if she’d never even heard of alcohol and then someone fed her a shot, a sort of What the hell was that? that she can’t explain.
Slowly she dips a finger into the jam.
YUM!
If it smells good, it tastes a thousand times better. Instantly she knows that this is the best jam she’s ever had. There is no other competitor that matches up to it- and she just sampled a ton of very good jams earlier in the day.
For every hint of mysterious goodness in the scent there is a full-fledged swatch of indescribable (but excellent) sweet flavor in the jam. It’s so good that she just can’t resist taking another taste.
Then she sighs and puts the jam away, screwing the jar on tight and wrapping it in a shirt before wedging it deep in her backpack.
Then she proceeds to drink like a dwarf for almost three hours, staying on watch for more than her turn and getting trashed. Finally she stumbles over and wakes Martini up, gets loud and obnoxious and wakes up the others, and at last gets sucked down into bed by Trinia. Soon the two of them (and Trinia’s wolf) are snoring in a pile and Martini is the only one awake.
Soon enough he finds the jam, and puts just a little on a cracker.
“Wow,” he whispers as the strange flavor hits his tongue. “Wow.”
***
In the morning, Ed has trouble getting up. She’s badly hung over. The group encounters a group of dwarves with a wagon with a thrown wheel and Federico buffoons himself for their edification, but soon they move on deeper into the plains.
None of them spot the low, sleek feline form that follows them through the tall grass.
*His player missed several sessions in a row, so we just filled in the details on where Thelonious was for those sessions during last night’s game. I just thought it would be a good thing to throw in here, because it underlines a couple of things I hadn’t even realized about the character- until he hit 2nd level he didn’t even speak halfling! (The player described him as “like the Mexican half-brother who doesn’t speak english.”)
Next Time: Bad kitty!!
the Jester
Legend
Dog Pack
The halflings’ first warning that they’re being stalked is a loud caterwauling sound that echoes across the shrub-dotted plains in the afternoon.
“What was that??” exclaims Phenol Sandybanks, drawing forth his longspear.
Our heroes grow tense and move a little quicker. They are paralleling the line of the mountains, and decide to seek out a better battle ground- somewhere they can have a cliff wall at their backs. Hurriedly, they clamber up a foothill and onto a ridge. They find themselves on a stone-strewn path that zigs and zags from one side of the ridge to the next, and as the sky starts to turn purple with the setting sun the party hears another howling whine.
“That noise is really creepy,” shudders Ed.
“Look!” cries Trinia.
Movement; something large and muscular slinks from one shadow to another, momentarily skylined against the clouds as it passes over a rise. Feline, dark-skinned, whatever it is, it’s clearly headed in their direction. Several of our heroes fall back; Sandy readies his spear. Airhead Ed draws out her bow.
Federico calls out, “Hello!” in a loud voice. “We’re just peaceful travelers- we mean no harm!”
The cat-thing rises onto two legs, showing a surprisingly humanoid profile for a moment. Then it lets out an incredibly loud, ear-splitting screech. Trinia gasps and grabs her head. Blood starts to pour from her ears and nose. She staggers, legs going weak...
Sandy rushes forward and jabs as the cat-thing drops to all four and leaps down towards them. Ed starts a wailing of her own, crying and stomping her feet, and it’s so loud that it overwhelms the caterwauling of the cat-creature.* Then she starts firing her bow at the creature, dropping back as it moves forward. Federico fires his crossbow, but both of them miss the creature.
Then the dog pack attacks.
Federico’s dog Ethel is in the lead, but Trinia has a wolf and Brother He has a riding dog as well. The three of them, naturally aroused by a feline opponent, tear into it, barking furiously. Trinia moves in a moment later with a shillelagh, and Martini fires and lands an arrow in the cat beast’s side. It yowls like an angry tomcat, then slashes Ethel across the snout and bites her along the face! The poor dog merely redoubles his assault, and Federico moves forward and uses his bardic magic to cure some of her wounds. Trinia’s wolf, meanwhile, pulls the caterwaul from its feet. Savagely the dogs set on the prone beast, and Airhead Ed springs in with her rapier, sticking her blade up beneath the ribcage and into its vitals.
The cat monster is bleeding from several wounds and is starting to weaken and slow, but it keeps trying to slay poor Ethel. From its position on the ground, however, it seems incapable of landing a blow, and in another few seconds the dog pack has won the day. They tear the caterwaul literally to pieces until the halflings finally call them off.
“Do you think it had a lair?” wonders Federico.
“We could look, but it might entail a lot of climbing,” Martini answers doubtfully.
“Never mind,” Federico says hurriedly.
“Besides, look at those clouds,” Trinia points out. Indeed, the sky is starting to cover itself in dark clouds. “That’s rain for sure. I’d say in an hour or so.”
Her prediction is borne out. Soon a chilly drizzle is falling on the clan. The general consensus is that a nice comfortable shelter- a cave, an outcropping, something- is pretty much required, so the group travels on for a time.
Soon a small structure looms out of the night ahead of them on the trail. Nervously, the group approaches; and then when they get close enough they all relax.
“It’s a Black Cottage!” exclaims Sandy. “Just what we need!”
Eagerly, the party lets themselves in to the building. The Black Cottages are a group of way posts that the Strogassian Empire set up for travelers to rest in when they might otherwise be caught in the wilds in inclement weather. Though neither stocked with provisions nor patrolled regularly, they are often visited by traveling military units, tax collectors and the like, and so are usually pretty safe for a night or two. Not always, of course; but this one is.
While the rain pounds down outside our heroes rest peacefully...
*Ed, as a bard, is geared toward drama-queen style performances. This was a countersong.
Next Time: What is the secret ingredient of the jam? Will even Leanne Bakeswell know? How will our heroes find out? And what’s Benjy Peachtree up to?
The halflings’ first warning that they’re being stalked is a loud caterwauling sound that echoes across the shrub-dotted plains in the afternoon.
“What was that??” exclaims Phenol Sandybanks, drawing forth his longspear.
Our heroes grow tense and move a little quicker. They are paralleling the line of the mountains, and decide to seek out a better battle ground- somewhere they can have a cliff wall at their backs. Hurriedly, they clamber up a foothill and onto a ridge. They find themselves on a stone-strewn path that zigs and zags from one side of the ridge to the next, and as the sky starts to turn purple with the setting sun the party hears another howling whine.
“That noise is really creepy,” shudders Ed.
“Look!” cries Trinia.
Movement; something large and muscular slinks from one shadow to another, momentarily skylined against the clouds as it passes over a rise. Feline, dark-skinned, whatever it is, it’s clearly headed in their direction. Several of our heroes fall back; Sandy readies his spear. Airhead Ed draws out her bow.
Federico calls out, “Hello!” in a loud voice. “We’re just peaceful travelers- we mean no harm!”
The cat-thing rises onto two legs, showing a surprisingly humanoid profile for a moment. Then it lets out an incredibly loud, ear-splitting screech. Trinia gasps and grabs her head. Blood starts to pour from her ears and nose. She staggers, legs going weak...
Sandy rushes forward and jabs as the cat-thing drops to all four and leaps down towards them. Ed starts a wailing of her own, crying and stomping her feet, and it’s so loud that it overwhelms the caterwauling of the cat-creature.* Then she starts firing her bow at the creature, dropping back as it moves forward. Federico fires his crossbow, but both of them miss the creature.
Then the dog pack attacks.
Federico’s dog Ethel is in the lead, but Trinia has a wolf and Brother He has a riding dog as well. The three of them, naturally aroused by a feline opponent, tear into it, barking furiously. Trinia moves in a moment later with a shillelagh, and Martini fires and lands an arrow in the cat beast’s side. It yowls like an angry tomcat, then slashes Ethel across the snout and bites her along the face! The poor dog merely redoubles his assault, and Federico moves forward and uses his bardic magic to cure some of her wounds. Trinia’s wolf, meanwhile, pulls the caterwaul from its feet. Savagely the dogs set on the prone beast, and Airhead Ed springs in with her rapier, sticking her blade up beneath the ribcage and into its vitals.
The cat monster is bleeding from several wounds and is starting to weaken and slow, but it keeps trying to slay poor Ethel. From its position on the ground, however, it seems incapable of landing a blow, and in another few seconds the dog pack has won the day. They tear the caterwaul literally to pieces until the halflings finally call them off.
“Do you think it had a lair?” wonders Federico.
“We could look, but it might entail a lot of climbing,” Martini answers doubtfully.
“Never mind,” Federico says hurriedly.
“Besides, look at those clouds,” Trinia points out. Indeed, the sky is starting to cover itself in dark clouds. “That’s rain for sure. I’d say in an hour or so.”
Her prediction is borne out. Soon a chilly drizzle is falling on the clan. The general consensus is that a nice comfortable shelter- a cave, an outcropping, something- is pretty much required, so the group travels on for a time.
Soon a small structure looms out of the night ahead of them on the trail. Nervously, the group approaches; and then when they get close enough they all relax.
“It’s a Black Cottage!” exclaims Sandy. “Just what we need!”
Eagerly, the party lets themselves in to the building. The Black Cottages are a group of way posts that the Strogassian Empire set up for travelers to rest in when they might otherwise be caught in the wilds in inclement weather. Though neither stocked with provisions nor patrolled regularly, they are often visited by traveling military units, tax collectors and the like, and so are usually pretty safe for a night or two. Not always, of course; but this one is.
While the rain pounds down outside our heroes rest peacefully...
*Ed, as a bard, is geared toward drama-queen style performances. This was a countersong.
Next Time: What is the secret ingredient of the jam? Will even Leanne Bakeswell know? How will our heroes find out? And what’s Benjy Peachtree up to?
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