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Of Sound Mind the Halfling Way
- Thread starter the Jester
- Start date
the Jester
Legend
Angcuru said:
Ed was the victim of one of the most tragic things that can happen to a pc- her player lost her character sheet. Between that and Ed's player missing several sessions in a row, you haven't yet met the new character of that player.
Ed gets 'written out' of the story eventually (when it was ascertained that her sheet was lost forever), but we aren't there quite yet.
the Jester
Legend
Posse
There are flies buzzing as Boddynock slowly pushes the door to the hovel open. A smell, like spoiled meat, wafts out to our heroes.
”Hey Timothy, come look at this!” says Lita cheerfully.
Timidly, the autistic halfling peeks into the little building-
“AAAHHHH!!!” Timothy stumbles backwards, falling onto the grass. “No, no, no, no, no...” Moaning, Timothy begins rocking back and forth.
“What’d you do that for?” demands Boddynock.
Lita’s answer, accompanied by a shrug, is a blase, “Oh, I didn’t think he’d react so strongly.”
“What’s-“ Boddynock’s voice chokes off as he looks at the carnage within.
Silence, for a moment, broken only by the moaning of Timothy. Then:
“Ugh,” Boddynock comments.
Within the shack is the murder victim that our heroes have been seeking- but this is terribly gruesome. Blood is everywhere. Whoever did this was shockingly brutal. And worst of all, at the head of the bed, scrawled in blood, is the number 663.
“Oh my god,” groans Sandy, “and if this-“ gesturing to encompass both Timothy and the mess inside the little dwelling- “wasn’t enough, look who’s coming.”
Indeed- what appears to be the worst possible timing, the Sheriff who arrested our heroes a few handfuls of days ago is riding towards the scene of the crime. Where our heroes are presently standing around, looking guilty. Fortunately for them, Sheriff Riley Barleybrew already knows who he’s looking for.
“Manson,” he growls. “But what are you all doing here?”
Our heroes tell him about how they are tracking down the escaped inmates. Manson, they are afraid, is one of them.
”What’s with the number?” Sandy asks.
“That’s the number of victims he’s slain,” the Sheriff replies grimly.
“That’s awful close to six hundred and sixty-six,” Boddynock comments.
Sheriff Barleybrew grunts. “We should try to keep him from reaching that total. In fact, I don’t want another man to die because of him if we can help it.” He looks pensive for a moment, as if debating something with himself, and then seems to reach a decision.
And he declares, “This has gotten out of hand. A mass murderer is killing again, and he has to be stopped. I’m deputizing all of you. Congratulations- you’re now my posse.”
Next Time: In pursuit of Manson!
There are flies buzzing as Boddynock slowly pushes the door to the hovel open. A smell, like spoiled meat, wafts out to our heroes.
”Hey Timothy, come look at this!” says Lita cheerfully.
Timidly, the autistic halfling peeks into the little building-
“AAAHHHH!!!” Timothy stumbles backwards, falling onto the grass. “No, no, no, no, no...” Moaning, Timothy begins rocking back and forth.
“What’d you do that for?” demands Boddynock.
Lita’s answer, accompanied by a shrug, is a blase, “Oh, I didn’t think he’d react so strongly.”
“What’s-“ Boddynock’s voice chokes off as he looks at the carnage within.
Silence, for a moment, broken only by the moaning of Timothy. Then:
“Ugh,” Boddynock comments.
Within the shack is the murder victim that our heroes have been seeking- but this is terribly gruesome. Blood is everywhere. Whoever did this was shockingly brutal. And worst of all, at the head of the bed, scrawled in blood, is the number 663.
“Oh my god,” groans Sandy, “and if this-“ gesturing to encompass both Timothy and the mess inside the little dwelling- “wasn’t enough, look who’s coming.”
Indeed- what appears to be the worst possible timing, the Sheriff who arrested our heroes a few handfuls of days ago is riding towards the scene of the crime. Where our heroes are presently standing around, looking guilty. Fortunately for them, Sheriff Riley Barleybrew already knows who he’s looking for.
“Manson,” he growls. “But what are you all doing here?”
Our heroes tell him about how they are tracking down the escaped inmates. Manson, they are afraid, is one of them.
”What’s with the number?” Sandy asks.
“That’s the number of victims he’s slain,” the Sheriff replies grimly.
“That’s awful close to six hundred and sixty-six,” Boddynock comments.
Sheriff Barleybrew grunts. “We should try to keep him from reaching that total. In fact, I don’t want another man to die because of him if we can help it.” He looks pensive for a moment, as if debating something with himself, and then seems to reach a decision.
And he declares, “This has gotten out of hand. A mass murderer is killing again, and he has to be stopped. I’m deputizing all of you. Congratulations- you’re now my posse.”
Next Time: In pursuit of Manson!
the Jester
Legend
Mass Murderer
8/19/368 O.L.G., 7 p.m., approaching a small village
Sheriff Riley Barleybrew has rarely looked so grim. He kneels on the path, his sharp eyes picking the tracks of the mass murderer known as Manson out from the signs of animals and peasants passing. “He’s headed for the village,” the Sheriff says, his voice touched by despair.
“What is with the number?” Boddynock presses the Sheriff. At the last murder site, scrawled in blood on the wall of the hovel, was the number six hundred and sixty three, which Sheriff Barleybrew revealed to be Manson’s tally of victims. Now the Sheriff sighs and just shakes his head.
“Let’s just say we want to prevent any more victims from dying, okay? Especially three more victims.”
The posse mounts up on their riding dogs and quickens their pace towards the little village ahead of them.
***
9 p.m, at the village of Wheat Creek
“It’s too dark,” grumbles Riley. “I can’t follow his tracks like this.”
“We’ve been riding for hours,” Lita complains. “We should rest for the night.” She sighs and makes eyes at the Sheriff. “And I could really use a nice massage...”
The party moves to the village’s inn. They secure rooms (paid for by the Sheriff) and dinner- late, but better late than never, and they eat enough to help them all recuperate from the shock of the murder scene. Even Timothy seems less withdrawn and- well, frankly, a little better. Perhaps accompanying the group will help him overcome his mental... condition.
When the party goes to bed, Lita and Sheriff Riley Barleybrew go together.
***
9 a.m.
Without even waiting for second breakfast (Wow, this is drastic, thinks Sandy) the group moves back to where they lost the trail, on the hills just outside of the community. From there they have a good view of the layout of the village- small, mostly farmers, with fields of grain snaking along after a small river that runs through it. A modest bridge slightly upstream of the middle of the village crosses over the large creek. There are a good number of trees scattered throughout the parts of the village without farms. The group can see the inn, a church of Bleak, a general store and about a dozen houses from their present position; it’s clear that a few more homes are hidden by the trees, but the place can’t have more than 100 souls or so living within it.
“He won’t have much of anywhere to hide, but there won’t be much of anyone to stop him,” murmurs Sandy.
“Except us,” Boddynock remarks.
Soon the trail leads the group to the edge of the creek. Following it upstream, they reach the first edges of the village, crossing a few fields of wheat.
”Look,” the Sheriff points. Ahead of them is a ruined ramshackle building, a shack really, constructed of wooden planks on a stilted platform above the creek. A wooden walkway leads out to it. It looks abandoned, but it is certainly big enough for someone to hide within, and a boat is moored underneath it.
The weapons come out. Our heroes, led by the Sheriff, advance on the shack. When he reaches the door, Sheriff Barleybrew pushes it open and peers within. Sunlight filters in through the warped boards of the walls and ceiling, and the party steps inside.
Slowly they move through the barred sunlight, moving from room to room in the old building. They find a room with a horrific altar in it; but they move on, saving it for later. Lives could be at stake right now.
”I heard something,” whispers Lita, pointing down a hall, and the group advances on tenterhooks.
Then, as they round a corner, they find their quarry, standing in a filthy room with a few rotten sacks of grain in one corner near an open trap door in the floor. Manson- the party recognizes him from the Asylum. He was one of the quieter ones there. He made little fuss as he was being released, though he didn’t answer Jawbreaker as he asked each of the inmates their name. Manson, mass murderer. He’s a dirty human, of middling height, indeterminate age, dark hair and frowning countenance. And as he comes into view- with some sort of slavering, stinking thing beside him- Lita delivers a present to him with an underhanded throw: a flask of alchemist’s fire. Suddenly Manson is in flames and screaming in pain.
The other creature, the thing beside him, leaps forward as the Sheriff charges at Manson and deals a deadly blow to him with his longsword. Blood splatters and the murderer reels. He tries to cast a spell, but the flames on him cause him too much pain! With a groan he throws himself out the trap door, a maneuver resulting in a splash! But his companion snarls and strikes, opening its mouth to reveal sharp, deadly fangs. Its filthy hands show themselves to have formidable claws as well; and the stink of the grave hits the group as its slavering bite latches onto the Sheriff’s right shoulder. With a cry, Riley draws back and smites the creature even as both Boddynock and Timothy hit it with disrupt undead cantrips. The creature squeals as big chunks of its flesh blast into ash. It strikes at the Sheriff again, more weakly, but misses. Our heroes press the attack, and finally they destroy the ghoul; and then Sheriff Riley Barleybrew rushes to the trap door and sticks his head out it. And he gives a long, loud curse.
“He’s getting away! He’s in the boat!”
He leaps to his feet.
“Quickly!!” And he rushes outside the house.
Next Time: Can our heroes stop Manson? Plus: the return of Jawbreaker!!
8/19/368 O.L.G., 7 p.m., approaching a small village
Sheriff Riley Barleybrew has rarely looked so grim. He kneels on the path, his sharp eyes picking the tracks of the mass murderer known as Manson out from the signs of animals and peasants passing. “He’s headed for the village,” the Sheriff says, his voice touched by despair.
“What is with the number?” Boddynock presses the Sheriff. At the last murder site, scrawled in blood on the wall of the hovel, was the number six hundred and sixty three, which Sheriff Barleybrew revealed to be Manson’s tally of victims. Now the Sheriff sighs and just shakes his head.
“Let’s just say we want to prevent any more victims from dying, okay? Especially three more victims.”
The posse mounts up on their riding dogs and quickens their pace towards the little village ahead of them.
***
9 p.m, at the village of Wheat Creek
“It’s too dark,” grumbles Riley. “I can’t follow his tracks like this.”
“We’ve been riding for hours,” Lita complains. “We should rest for the night.” She sighs and makes eyes at the Sheriff. “And I could really use a nice massage...”
The party moves to the village’s inn. They secure rooms (paid for by the Sheriff) and dinner- late, but better late than never, and they eat enough to help them all recuperate from the shock of the murder scene. Even Timothy seems less withdrawn and- well, frankly, a little better. Perhaps accompanying the group will help him overcome his mental... condition.
When the party goes to bed, Lita and Sheriff Riley Barleybrew go together.
***
9 a.m.
Without even waiting for second breakfast (Wow, this is drastic, thinks Sandy) the group moves back to where they lost the trail, on the hills just outside of the community. From there they have a good view of the layout of the village- small, mostly farmers, with fields of grain snaking along after a small river that runs through it. A modest bridge slightly upstream of the middle of the village crosses over the large creek. There are a good number of trees scattered throughout the parts of the village without farms. The group can see the inn, a church of Bleak, a general store and about a dozen houses from their present position; it’s clear that a few more homes are hidden by the trees, but the place can’t have more than 100 souls or so living within it.
“He won’t have much of anywhere to hide, but there won’t be much of anyone to stop him,” murmurs Sandy.
“Except us,” Boddynock remarks.
Soon the trail leads the group to the edge of the creek. Following it upstream, they reach the first edges of the village, crossing a few fields of wheat.
”Look,” the Sheriff points. Ahead of them is a ruined ramshackle building, a shack really, constructed of wooden planks on a stilted platform above the creek. A wooden walkway leads out to it. It looks abandoned, but it is certainly big enough for someone to hide within, and a boat is moored underneath it.
The weapons come out. Our heroes, led by the Sheriff, advance on the shack. When he reaches the door, Sheriff Barleybrew pushes it open and peers within. Sunlight filters in through the warped boards of the walls and ceiling, and the party steps inside.
Slowly they move through the barred sunlight, moving from room to room in the old building. They find a room with a horrific altar in it; but they move on, saving it for later. Lives could be at stake right now.
”I heard something,” whispers Lita, pointing down a hall, and the group advances on tenterhooks.
Then, as they round a corner, they find their quarry, standing in a filthy room with a few rotten sacks of grain in one corner near an open trap door in the floor. Manson- the party recognizes him from the Asylum. He was one of the quieter ones there. He made little fuss as he was being released, though he didn’t answer Jawbreaker as he asked each of the inmates their name. Manson, mass murderer. He’s a dirty human, of middling height, indeterminate age, dark hair and frowning countenance. And as he comes into view- with some sort of slavering, stinking thing beside him- Lita delivers a present to him with an underhanded throw: a flask of alchemist’s fire. Suddenly Manson is in flames and screaming in pain.
The other creature, the thing beside him, leaps forward as the Sheriff charges at Manson and deals a deadly blow to him with his longsword. Blood splatters and the murderer reels. He tries to cast a spell, but the flames on him cause him too much pain! With a groan he throws himself out the trap door, a maneuver resulting in a splash! But his companion snarls and strikes, opening its mouth to reveal sharp, deadly fangs. Its filthy hands show themselves to have formidable claws as well; and the stink of the grave hits the group as its slavering bite latches onto the Sheriff’s right shoulder. With a cry, Riley draws back and smites the creature even as both Boddynock and Timothy hit it with disrupt undead cantrips. The creature squeals as big chunks of its flesh blast into ash. It strikes at the Sheriff again, more weakly, but misses. Our heroes press the attack, and finally they destroy the ghoul; and then Sheriff Riley Barleybrew rushes to the trap door and sticks his head out it. And he gives a long, loud curse.
“He’s getting away! He’s in the boat!”
He leaps to his feet.
“Quickly!!” And he rushes outside the house.
Next Time: Can our heroes stop Manson? Plus: the return of Jawbreaker!!
hippiejedissj5
First Post
the fight against the wolf-spider was super intense. in the end lita's str was at 0, and tim stabilized at -9. boddynock was at 1 hp, and 1 str. when the spider attacked at 0 hp. one of the closest down to the wire fights i have had.
hippiejedissj5
First Post
boddynock's full name is; Boddynock Poppycock Beren Oneshoe the III
the Jester
Legend
Manson (finale)
9:15 a.m., along the edges of Wheat Creek, near the village of the same name
Jawbreaker sighs contentedly and picks at his teeth. With a grunt he pokes his small fire with a stick. The remains of his breakfast- a hare, and a delicious one at that- lie at the edge of the coals. With a grunt, he rises and turns, stretching in the morning light. Looks like a nice day. Grinning to himself, he tromps up the little ridge that shields him from view from the town. He’ll wander over it and down to the river to wash the grease from his fingers- what he can’t suck off of them, anyhow- and-
He stops, eyes goggling.
Is that one of his friends, sprinting along the far bank of the creek?
Jawbreaker squints. Yep, looks like it’s that silly lass, Lita. And who is she chasing? She keeps looking at the creek... His gaze wanders over the waters. Hmm, someone in a boat.
Jawbreaker guffaws to himself. All right! Time for some action!
He runs down the ridge at an acute angle, hoping to cut off the human in the boat, and leaps out across the water, his prodigious leg muscles propelling him like a javelin. Unfortunately, a blackberry vine snatches his legging, throwing him off course, and with a yell he lands in the water, not really anywhere near the boat. Spluttering, he swims towards shore after only a momentary attempt at pursuit. Lita looks like she’s out of wind, and she’s giving up too. Jawbreaker pulls himself up on the bank on the creek and shakes himself. Water streams from his beard.
“Jawbreaker?” exclaims Lita.
“Hi,” he grunts, and bellows laughter.
“We’ve got to stop Manson!” she cries, and his laughter stops abruptly.
Manson.
He remembers that name. That was the one name he was listening for that night in the Asylum- the one he wouldn’t have let out. He spins, his gaze taking in the figure in the receding boat. “That him?” he grunts, fists clenching and unclenching.
“Yes,” Lita says, “but don’t worry- he won’t get away! The Sheriff’s commandeering a boat!”
“Sheriff?!” exclaims Jawbreaker. That’s one bit of news he did not need. He glances at the approaching rowboat. Damn it- it’s the same guy who tried to take him in before. He glares at him, and the Sheriff, surprised to see him, glares back.
With a stern look, Sheriff Barleybrew declares, “We can settle our affairs later. Right now I have more important things to deal with. Come on, Lita!”
“He can help,” she insists, gesturing at Jawbreaker.
”Whatever. But hurry!”
The two halflings join their friends on the boat.
***
The group follows in their boat, trying to catch up but not really making any progress. Then, rounding a bend in the creek that obscures their vision of their target, they find that his boat has been abandoned. Sheriff Riley rapidly finds the murderer’s trail, and it leads to a medium-sized, apparently abandoned house. Weapons bared, our heroes advance.
The interior of the house looks to be fairly spacious, but as our heroes start to open the door something bursts from the packed earth directly before the entry- some sort of freakish-looking insectoid. Our heroes cry out in surprise and dismay as it bursts forward, grappling Naomi in its mandibles!
Sandy rushes forward with his small longspear, thrusting at the monster, but he rebounds off of its formidable carapace. Shaking his head, he moves back towards it. Arrows sink into it from the Sheriff as Naomi screams while she tries to hammer it with a mind thrust. She fails; perhaps it is the pain, or perhaps the monster is immune to her powers.
Jawbreaker maneuvers to a position from which he can strike at the creature, which- due to the presence of his friends around the monster- takes him within the house. Unfortunately, a shadowed corner of the room suddenly gives birth to Manson, whose dagger seems to have materialized in Jawbreaker’s kidney. The barbarian screams in agony as the wicked human grinds his steel into the halfling’s body, and then he goes into a terrible scarlet rage. His axe whistles as he swings at Manson, and the mass murderer sprays blood across the room, stumbling and crying out. But he takes up a wavering fighting stance and suddenly his dagger is in the barbarian’s belly, and Jawbreaker backs off, knowing he can’t take another blow like that. He staggers back out of the house, leaving blood everywhere.
Manson laughs maniacally, but he’s weak on his feet. Jawbreaker’s blow dealt him tremendous damage. He glances at the insectoid creature battling the others. It has dropped Naomi and moved onto the Sheriff, and Riley is now bleeding from several vicious wounds. He’s barely standing. Federico’s dog Ethel rushes in, barking and savaging the bug, while Federico himself hangs back and japes and jabbers, inspiring our heroes.
Sheriff Riley stumbles a few paces back from the bug, desperately laying hands on himself. Naomi, dragging herself up from where the creature dropped her, again feels her mind thrust fail to deal any damage, and she starts cursing quite inventively. If only the party knew the half of the insults she could hurl, the cruel jokes of her folk! What might they think of the tubby little psionic girl then?
In any event, Manson hurls some sort of magic at Federico, but the shivering little kobold resists the effects. “I have a strong will,” he moans fearfully yet somehow gloatingly to Manson. The murderer snarls at him.
Lita tumbles in on the side of the bug, flanking it with Ethel, and swiftly she runs it through. It shudders and stops moving.
Jawbreaker, outside the house, quickly quaffs a potion. Then, with a bellow, a few of his wounds healed, he charges forward, barreling into Manson with the business end of his axe! Manson shouts in pain, then stabs Jawbreaker directly in the face.
Freeze frame for a moment and look at the irony, as Manson’s dagger strikes hard on Jawbreaker’s chin, and- yes, you guessed it- breaks his jaw.
The barbarian falls, unconscious.*
“Oh crap!” cries Sandy, as Manson’s wicked dagger draws a line of red across his face. “Aggh! Back off, dammit!” He staggers away, bleeding profusely.
Then a greenish, smoking arrow hits Manson. Acid bubbles into his skin, and he shrieks in pain. Boddynock, illusionary mirror images flickering around him, glares at the killer. “You won’t get away!” he cries.
Indeed not, for- weakened by the axe blows from Jawbreaker, burning from the acid- Manson cannot resist Lita’s psionic charm. “You should surrender,” she tells him gently. “It’s the only way to save yourself.”
And though he hesitates for a moment, Manson gives himself up to the law.
***
11 a.m.
Jawbreaker’s eyes snap open. Federico is crouched over him, his little tail whipping back and forth. “Are you all right?” the kobold cries.
Jawbreaker tries to talk, but it doesn’t work very well. It just hurts.
***
1 p.m.
After lunch the Sheriff thanks our heroes and tells them he’ll meet them in a week’s time with a reward in Wheat Creek. Then he leaves, taking a manacled Manson with him. The party watches him go and debates for quite some time whether to go after him, but the majority doesn’t really see any benefit. “We can’t catch up,” points out Boddynock.
“Well, I’m going,” she huffs, and Naomi goes with her.
“Oh great,” Sandy says snarkily, “the fine chick and the fat chick. Whatever, he’ll be back here in a week. You’ll never catch him, besides- he has mounts for both of them and you’re doubled up.” Glancing at the chubby Naomi, he adds, “Almost tripled.”
“I can’t help it if I like to stay healthy,” Naomi calls from a dozen yards away.
“We’ll ride hard,” Lita retorts, and the girls depart.
“I guess we should follow them,” comments Sandy. “We don’t want them to get in trouble.”
“We’ll never catch them, any more than they’ll catch the Sheriff,” says Federico ironically. “So it’ll be like a big wagon train of spread-out halflings. Except without the wagons.” He scratches Ethel under the chin. “Just dogs.”
8/21/370 O.L.G., 7 p.m., on the road west of Wheat Creek
Naomi and Lita, having ridden her dog to death, proceed to cook and eat it. They get a lot of good girl time in together, talking a lot, and Lita’s flighty personality is easily swayed. Normally morally neutral rather than good or evil, Lita is starting to really enjoy the company of Naomi; she’s refreshing and thought provoking.
“I mean, really,” Naomi tells her at one point, “what’s wrong with eating human? I personally can assure you, it’s delicious. Confidentially, I feel that if any of the humans we run across die, we should eat ‘em. Maybe help them along. It’s kind of the same thing as hunting a pig, really- a little dangerous, but mmm! –delicious.”
***
Several days pass, with the group split up. Finally, the main contingent connects with the girls again. Together, they all head west, following the presumed direction the Sheriff took. Along the way they fight some strange creatures, almost like a cross between insects and some sort of mechanical creature. The battle is ruthless and hard; when all is said and done, our heroes are bruised and bloodied but victorious. Unfortunately, the bug-things don’t look like very good eating.
Then they come to the crossroads.
Next Time: The crossroads! Hilarity ensues!
*At this point, even if stabilized, Jawbreaker was as good as dead once his rage wore off.
9:15 a.m., along the edges of Wheat Creek, near the village of the same name
Jawbreaker sighs contentedly and picks at his teeth. With a grunt he pokes his small fire with a stick. The remains of his breakfast- a hare, and a delicious one at that- lie at the edge of the coals. With a grunt, he rises and turns, stretching in the morning light. Looks like a nice day. Grinning to himself, he tromps up the little ridge that shields him from view from the town. He’ll wander over it and down to the river to wash the grease from his fingers- what he can’t suck off of them, anyhow- and-
He stops, eyes goggling.
Is that one of his friends, sprinting along the far bank of the creek?
Jawbreaker squints. Yep, looks like it’s that silly lass, Lita. And who is she chasing? She keeps looking at the creek... His gaze wanders over the waters. Hmm, someone in a boat.
Jawbreaker guffaws to himself. All right! Time for some action!
He runs down the ridge at an acute angle, hoping to cut off the human in the boat, and leaps out across the water, his prodigious leg muscles propelling him like a javelin. Unfortunately, a blackberry vine snatches his legging, throwing him off course, and with a yell he lands in the water, not really anywhere near the boat. Spluttering, he swims towards shore after only a momentary attempt at pursuit. Lita looks like she’s out of wind, and she’s giving up too. Jawbreaker pulls himself up on the bank on the creek and shakes himself. Water streams from his beard.
“Jawbreaker?” exclaims Lita.
“Hi,” he grunts, and bellows laughter.
“We’ve got to stop Manson!” she cries, and his laughter stops abruptly.
Manson.
He remembers that name. That was the one name he was listening for that night in the Asylum- the one he wouldn’t have let out. He spins, his gaze taking in the figure in the receding boat. “That him?” he grunts, fists clenching and unclenching.
“Yes,” Lita says, “but don’t worry- he won’t get away! The Sheriff’s commandeering a boat!”
“Sheriff?!” exclaims Jawbreaker. That’s one bit of news he did not need. He glances at the approaching rowboat. Damn it- it’s the same guy who tried to take him in before. He glares at him, and the Sheriff, surprised to see him, glares back.
With a stern look, Sheriff Barleybrew declares, “We can settle our affairs later. Right now I have more important things to deal with. Come on, Lita!”
“He can help,” she insists, gesturing at Jawbreaker.
”Whatever. But hurry!”
The two halflings join their friends on the boat.
***
The group follows in their boat, trying to catch up but not really making any progress. Then, rounding a bend in the creek that obscures their vision of their target, they find that his boat has been abandoned. Sheriff Riley rapidly finds the murderer’s trail, and it leads to a medium-sized, apparently abandoned house. Weapons bared, our heroes advance.
The interior of the house looks to be fairly spacious, but as our heroes start to open the door something bursts from the packed earth directly before the entry- some sort of freakish-looking insectoid. Our heroes cry out in surprise and dismay as it bursts forward, grappling Naomi in its mandibles!
Sandy rushes forward with his small longspear, thrusting at the monster, but he rebounds off of its formidable carapace. Shaking his head, he moves back towards it. Arrows sink into it from the Sheriff as Naomi screams while she tries to hammer it with a mind thrust. She fails; perhaps it is the pain, or perhaps the monster is immune to her powers.
Jawbreaker maneuvers to a position from which he can strike at the creature, which- due to the presence of his friends around the monster- takes him within the house. Unfortunately, a shadowed corner of the room suddenly gives birth to Manson, whose dagger seems to have materialized in Jawbreaker’s kidney. The barbarian screams in agony as the wicked human grinds his steel into the halfling’s body, and then he goes into a terrible scarlet rage. His axe whistles as he swings at Manson, and the mass murderer sprays blood across the room, stumbling and crying out. But he takes up a wavering fighting stance and suddenly his dagger is in the barbarian’s belly, and Jawbreaker backs off, knowing he can’t take another blow like that. He staggers back out of the house, leaving blood everywhere.
Manson laughs maniacally, but he’s weak on his feet. Jawbreaker’s blow dealt him tremendous damage. He glances at the insectoid creature battling the others. It has dropped Naomi and moved onto the Sheriff, and Riley is now bleeding from several vicious wounds. He’s barely standing. Federico’s dog Ethel rushes in, barking and savaging the bug, while Federico himself hangs back and japes and jabbers, inspiring our heroes.
Sheriff Riley stumbles a few paces back from the bug, desperately laying hands on himself. Naomi, dragging herself up from where the creature dropped her, again feels her mind thrust fail to deal any damage, and she starts cursing quite inventively. If only the party knew the half of the insults she could hurl, the cruel jokes of her folk! What might they think of the tubby little psionic girl then?
In any event, Manson hurls some sort of magic at Federico, but the shivering little kobold resists the effects. “I have a strong will,” he moans fearfully yet somehow gloatingly to Manson. The murderer snarls at him.
Lita tumbles in on the side of the bug, flanking it with Ethel, and swiftly she runs it through. It shudders and stops moving.
Jawbreaker, outside the house, quickly quaffs a potion. Then, with a bellow, a few of his wounds healed, he charges forward, barreling into Manson with the business end of his axe! Manson shouts in pain, then stabs Jawbreaker directly in the face.
Freeze frame for a moment and look at the irony, as Manson’s dagger strikes hard on Jawbreaker’s chin, and- yes, you guessed it- breaks his jaw.
The barbarian falls, unconscious.*
“Oh crap!” cries Sandy, as Manson’s wicked dagger draws a line of red across his face. “Aggh! Back off, dammit!” He staggers away, bleeding profusely.
Then a greenish, smoking arrow hits Manson. Acid bubbles into his skin, and he shrieks in pain. Boddynock, illusionary mirror images flickering around him, glares at the killer. “You won’t get away!” he cries.
Indeed not, for- weakened by the axe blows from Jawbreaker, burning from the acid- Manson cannot resist Lita’s psionic charm. “You should surrender,” she tells him gently. “It’s the only way to save yourself.”
And though he hesitates for a moment, Manson gives himself up to the law.
***
11 a.m.
Jawbreaker’s eyes snap open. Federico is crouched over him, his little tail whipping back and forth. “Are you all right?” the kobold cries.
Jawbreaker tries to talk, but it doesn’t work very well. It just hurts.
***
1 p.m.
After lunch the Sheriff thanks our heroes and tells them he’ll meet them in a week’s time with a reward in Wheat Creek. Then he leaves, taking a manacled Manson with him. The party watches him go and debates for quite some time whether to go after him, but the majority doesn’t really see any benefit. “We can’t catch up,” points out Boddynock.
“Well, I’m going,” she huffs, and Naomi goes with her.
“Oh great,” Sandy says snarkily, “the fine chick and the fat chick. Whatever, he’ll be back here in a week. You’ll never catch him, besides- he has mounts for both of them and you’re doubled up.” Glancing at the chubby Naomi, he adds, “Almost tripled.”
“I can’t help it if I like to stay healthy,” Naomi calls from a dozen yards away.
“We’ll ride hard,” Lita retorts, and the girls depart.
“I guess we should follow them,” comments Sandy. “We don’t want them to get in trouble.”
“We’ll never catch them, any more than they’ll catch the Sheriff,” says Federico ironically. “So it’ll be like a big wagon train of spread-out halflings. Except without the wagons.” He scratches Ethel under the chin. “Just dogs.”
8/21/370 O.L.G., 7 p.m., on the road west of Wheat Creek
Naomi and Lita, having ridden her dog to death, proceed to cook and eat it. They get a lot of good girl time in together, talking a lot, and Lita’s flighty personality is easily swayed. Normally morally neutral rather than good or evil, Lita is starting to really enjoy the company of Naomi; she’s refreshing and thought provoking.
“I mean, really,” Naomi tells her at one point, “what’s wrong with eating human? I personally can assure you, it’s delicious. Confidentially, I feel that if any of the humans we run across die, we should eat ‘em. Maybe help them along. It’s kind of the same thing as hunting a pig, really- a little dangerous, but mmm! –delicious.”
***
Several days pass, with the group split up. Finally, the main contingent connects with the girls again. Together, they all head west, following the presumed direction the Sheriff took. Along the way they fight some strange creatures, almost like a cross between insects and some sort of mechanical creature. The battle is ruthless and hard; when all is said and done, our heroes are bruised and bloodied but victorious. Unfortunately, the bug-things don’t look like very good eating.
Then they come to the crossroads.
Next Time: The crossroads! Hilarity ensues!
*At this point, even if stabilized, Jawbreaker was as good as dead once his rage wore off.
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