Of Sound Mind the Halfling Way

[the Jester]

Aargh... so much for the end of the week.

It's short, but hopefully it whets the appetite. I'll be getting back to this thread once more before I'm out of material- we haven't played the halfling group for a while, as we've been focused on the low-magic campaign experiment first.

Anyway:

***

“Oh, help! Oh, my gods, help me!”

“It’s impossible,” whispers Martini.

The halflings have thrown open a door only to find a large cage. Within it is a single scrawny form, half-starved from the look of her.

“M-Martini?”

“You know her?” asks Nara.

“I do,” Martini saws, hurrying forward to the cage. The others trundle along behind him. “This is Ed... Airhead Ed!”

“Help,” the prisoner peeps again. “I’m so weak... they leave me in here for days at a time without food...” She groans.

“Days without food!” Jawbreaker explodes. “They very bad! That not nice!!” And Erazmus picks open the lock and Airhead Ed Flapjacks takes a few staggering steps out of the cage. Ari and Nara push the gnome that the group captured into the cage and then re-lock it.

“Wait a second, Airhead Ed? Aren’t there always people trying to hunt her down and stuff?” Naomi objects.

“Shh,” Martini soothes Ed, ignoring his fat friend. “It’s going to be all right, Ed... it’s going to be all right.”

Next Time: Our heroes search out more of the ruined keep, question Ed and the gnome, and find the fabled promised land! (Or do they?)

 

[the Jester]

The group of small heroes begins exploring the ruined keep in earnest, now that the main threat facing them has been dealt with (at least, as far as they can tell). Airhead Ed, though weak, accompanies them; she is currently too weak to blather or spout drama. She’ll be back to her normal self soon enough, thinks Martini bemusedly.

The upper level of the keep is burned out and unstable. The group finds no valuables or items of note. Fortunately, even though some of them might be stout for a halfling, none of them weigh enough to cause the rubble to collapse or shift disastrously. A few stones shift a little bit here and there, but on the whole the party does not disturb anything noteworthy.

They do, of course, find a hidden stair hewn from the living rock of the foundation. It leads them downward, into a series of natural caverns. Chief Jawbreaker leads the way, weapon at the ready. Our heroes have been in the Underdark; they are all too aware of the potential hazards to be found below ground.

When something begins scrabbling out of a nest of rubble, the party collectively tenses. A long centipede, its body longer than a halfling’s and as thick as Naomi’s chubby arm, skitters free and begins skittering towards the group.

Ari gestures and calls out to nature in a loud, firm voice. There is a white-hot blast of flame and the bug is blasted to oblivion by the druid’s flame strike.

“Impressive, buddy,” Erasmuz declares.

The party starts walking along the left wall of the cave. Soon an opening gapes; a side passage awaits. Jawbreaker leads the way, and then something wet falls on him from above.

“Rarggh!” he cries is dismay.

“Green slime!” screams Ed in dismay.

Jawbreaker roars in pain as the slime starts rapidly growing along his body. He begins to writhe and twist, but there is no enemy to strike, nowhere to run. He takes a single, staggering step.

“Flame!” cries Ed. “Try flame!”

Jawbreaker gives out a wordless howl. Nara struggles to find a torch, then finally pulls one out and lights it. I wish I hadn’t used my flame strike, thinks Ari.

Nara’s torch blazes to life, and Jawbreaker yet struggles. It’s not too late! Nara thinks. The cleric rushes to him and starts applying the torch. Chief Jawbreaker yells again, gritting his teeth against the touch of the flames, but the slime blackens and gives off a foul smell where the torch touches it. In another moment the slime has been charred to ash, and Jawbreaker moans, wounded but alive.

“Close,” the Chief gasps.

“We should probably rest,” Nara opines. “Then I can heal you, and maybe Ed will be in better shape.” The others agree.

Then, nearby, Erasmuz’ voice floats out of another side passage. “Hey, buddies, I think you better come over here!” He sounds excited.

“What is it?” asks Ari, walking to the cave- and stopping with a start. Then he walks into the cave, a look of wonder on his face.

“What is it?” wonders Ari.

Nara’s head pokes out of the cave entrance. “Come check it out! I think it’s a shrine to some kind of halfling goddess! And- there’s food.”

Next Time: The false promised land!

 

[the Jester]

Let me just say that I am incredibly glad that I write my story hours up in Word before posting them these days...

My plan: one post per day (in one or more of my SH threads) until the old posts are all back in place, and then more- presumably by that time, I'll have a few new ones written and be able to leapfrog forward...

 

[the Jester]

A feast before the shrine of some long-forgotten halfling god. The smells of delicious food, the sounds of merry laughter and conversation. Our heroes are in a rare state of bliss, the politics of Dyshim and Zacradose forgotten, their periodic troubles with the Peachtrees put far out of mind. Very little could make the occasion better. Very little- except the promised land that the weird’s prophecy had seemingly promised them. Naomi glances at the varicose veins surrounding the tattoo of the prophecy on her thigh and thinks about it as she gnaws a leg of lamb.

Is it my promised land? she wonders. My folk are not like other halflings...

Airhead Ed eats and eats, but then falls into a brooding state. She and Naomi stare at each other, and each feels an itching at their mind.

Federico japes and jokes, amusing everyone, but he cannot help but feel somewhat out of place. After all, even though he thinks of himself as a halfling- and he is, in fact, an adopted Flapjacks- he cannot escape the fact that his body is that of a kobold. He cannot help but feel a tickle of doubt at whether he belongs here in this sacred place.

Martini strolls around, looking over the various statues of halfling deities. Who are they? he wonders, staring from one to the next. None of them are familiar at all. One in particular is disturbing: he looks thin and hungry. Martini shivers and leaves a piece of bread before the statue, then returns to his fellows. He notices that Ari has already fallen into a deep torpor-like sleep, and he smiles to himself. A good night’s rest sounds like a good idea, he reflects.

As if reading his thoughts, Jawbreaker states, “We rest here.” Erasmuz scowls, but the burly barbarian ignores him. “Good place.” He smiles his toothy smile and belches.

Erasmuz turns his head away, the scowl fixed fiercely upon his face. Gods, he sneers to himself. He reveres no gods.

No, he steals from the gods- steals their power. For Erasmuz is an ur-priest, disdaining the sacred and the profane for a conniving cynicism. His so-called “friends” that he travels with have no idea of the depth of his disgust for this shrine. Sure, there’s food- a persuasive argument, for a halfling- but this place is probably consecrated. Or at least, it probably was at one point.

Even the brooding Erasmuz slips into sleep.

***

12/13/369 O.L.G., 9 a.m., the ruined keep of the small folk, Zacradose

The next day forever more seems like a dream. None of them can clearly remember it afterwards, ever, as long as they live. Much like a dream, when they think about it too hard they start to wonder if they are changing their recollections of it.

After a night involving pillow fights and seduction between Ed and Erasmuz, morning sees them in a fine breakfast (the supplies kept, of course, in Jawbreaker’s magical bag). Then they question Enkirdos, their captive- the gnome who was part of the group that assaulted them. She claims that she and her friends were essentially attempting to claim the keep for their own and fix it up as a headquarters.

“I don’t believe her,” Naomi declares. “I think we should kill her.” Under her breath, she adds, “...and eat her.”

“You’re gross,” Martini remarks.

They discuss it for a few moments before deciding to further explore the area. They leave the gnome in the cage behind them, though Airhead Ed shows a strong desire to kill her. As the party descends some stairs, she mutters, “Oh, I forgot something,” and heads back up to the cage. After a moment’s hesitation, Martini goes after her. But that hesitation is enough: he is too late. The gnome is dead. Martini glares at Ed.

“It wasn’t me,” she protests implausibly. “Well, okay, it was, but they held me prisoner. You don’t know what kinds of things they did to me!”

Martini just shakes his head.

***

11:00 a.m.

Going deeper into the sublevels of the ruined keep, our heroes are beset by a swarm of stirges. Naomi gives a terrified, pig-like squeal and discharges a fireball from her wand. It explodes above her in a shower of sparks and burning stirges. And yet more stream forth, landing on her body and beginning to suck her blood!

Jawbreaker is just out of the stirges’ field of view. When he steps into it, he is wielding his axe. A single mighty blow cuts one stirge in half and cleaves into another, nearly severing its body in twain.

Ari inflicts light wounds upon one of the stirges clutching her bloated friend, and huge rents open up on it. It drops off of Naomi and crashes into the ground, dead but still twitching. Even as it does so, however, the remaining stirges are sucking great gouts of blood from her.

Airhead Ed, meanwhile, cries in the back of the party and is ready to move away at a moment’s notice.

Jawbreaker, on the other hand, continues to rampage through the stirges, and he cuts the last two of the vicious little bloodsuckers off of Naomi.

She groans, nearly collapsing. Her knees feel weak, and she groans, “I need something to eat.”

***

Noon

It is below that our heroes find the door. It has no handle or method of opening.

Nara steps up to it. “Can you feel that?” she whispers, looking at the others.

Everyone else shakes their head.

“There’s energy running through this door,” she murmurs. “Similar to the energy Coila lets me channel.” She pauses for a moment. “I wonder...”

“Maybe that’s the key,” suggests Erasmuz.

Nara nods. “I was just thinking that.” Taking a deep breath, she pulls forth her holy symbol and channels negative energy. Immediately, the outline of the door begins to glow; and within seconds the door itself transforms into a field of white light.

“I don’t know if this is such a good idea,” cautions Ari.

“Smell that?” exclaims Naomi, sniffing at the entrance. Our heroes crowd close.

“Bacon!”

***

Ed refused to go through, and Jawbreaker wouldn’t leave her unprotected. If she was part of the clan, then she was part of the clan. Regretfully, the chief stayed with her. The others, unable to resist, went through the energized doorway.

It seemed like the promised land, but it was not.

There were fields of pies and cows that gave cream and... and everything. It is so hazy now, trying to remember. It all turned to ashes in their mouths. None of it would feed them. They wept, unable to believe the cruelty of it. It was a terrible mockery of what must be a perfect world. Why is it so hard to remember? To remember anything past this point? They came out of the false promised land, rejoining Jawbreaker and Ed.

A pause, to try to remember.

There was a book that came with them, and then... what? How long, how much time?

A pause- mind-deadening confusion.

Smoke, and strange smells; light only from the fire burning around them.

Erasmuz had used his prized possession, his wand of summon bard, to call forth someone to tell their stories to, to spread their fame. The party laughed over a good meal, but it was hollow. The false promised land.

But a book, a book of lore came out of it. They found it there, and brought it back. But...

But where are we?

What’s going on? It’s dark...

What happened?

Dawning horror.

“We’re surrounded!” Martini shouts.

They are in a cave: Martini, Naomi, Erasmuz and Nara. The others are nowhere to be seen. The guttering fires of some sort of mossy mass are burning. Orange sparks of flaming moss matter flutter in the air. Three passages exit from the place. The entire tableau is overgrown with fungus, smuts and mushrooms and strange, alien-looking formations.

From all three passages, strange, feline-looking things are moving in on the party. Tentacles writhe beneath their knife-toothed mouths.

“What the hell is going on?” cries Martini.

Next Time: What the hell happened? Where are our heroes- and where are the rest of our heroes?!

 

[the Jester]

So many things that are normally taken for granted... can’t be. Normally, you know where you are, and why; you know how you got there. You probably have a pretty good idea of what day of the week it is, and the date as well.

Our heroes have been plunged into a state of utter cluelessness.

The mossy burn is flickering and dying, and the tentacled horrors surrounding the four of them are converging quickly. They move with almost feline grace, but the slick ochre skin and unnatural looking hair put the lie to that thought immediately. Whatever these things are, they are not cats of any sort.

Ah, but predators- yes, they are predators.

The tentacles writhing beneath their mouths squirm like slimy serpents. Even as Naomi initiates energy retort, one of the monsters unleashes some form of psionic attack at her. She cries out, but shrugs it off. “Watch out!” she shouts a warning. “They’ve got some kind of mind powers!”

Nara just has time to cast divine power before one of the strange creatures leaps at her. It tears into her with its claws, the tentacles wiggling around her face. She grunts in disgust as it tries to grapple her, but she manages to throw it off as it brings a rear leg up to rake her.

Erasmuz, meanwhile, manages to cast both mage armor and spiritual weapon while the other weird monsters maintain their distance, attempting psionic attacks. Nara struggles with the only one in close, and quickly manages to drive it back a pace; but then a second one springs in, tearing into Erasmuz. The bald little halfling squeals as he is assaulted, and then monster deals a devastating bite to his jaw, breaking it. He shrieks in pain. Focusing through the agony, he directs his spiritual weapon into action on his aggressor, and it begins to poke away at the creature.

Martini keeps up a steady stream of arrows at one of the other ones, which keeps attempting to break his mind. Martini grits his teeth, plucking another arrow from the quiver at his back and fitting it to the string in one smooth, meditative motion. He realizes suddenly that he is somewhat injured- from what, he cannot say. What happened to us? he wonders wildly. Why can’t I remember?? Regardless of his confusion, Martini manages to bring down one of the strange aberrations at last.

Naomi combats her foe with a combination of telepathic assaults and pyromancy. Her flaming sphere rapidly proves its worth, but the creatures have strong wills and are not easily defeated in mental combat. She seems to have achieved a momentary standoff with it. She watches in dismay, however, as one of the others springs on Martini, grappling him. The archer struggles to throw it off, but it rakes at him, tearing open bloody furrows in his body.

Nara, on the other hand, has managed to hold her own in a bloody claw-vs.-mace battle, and now her opponent withdraws down one of the passages. “It’s getting away!” she cries, but a glance at her comrades reveals how badly they need her help now: both Martini and Erasmuz are held by the beasts, which are intent on slaying them!

But even as she rushes towards them, Martini manages to squirm free of the monster holding him, and he steps back and resumes fire at it. Two more arrows are enough: it collapses. That leaves only the one on Erasmuz. Naomi steps in and inflicts a recall agony on the beast. It springs away, perhaps realizing that the tide has turned, and flees down a tunnel with extraordinary speed.

Our heroes draw together. Any thought of pursuit is destroyed by the monsters’ fleetness. They begin to discuss their situation.

“The last thing I remember is the false Promised Land, and that’s foggy,” Naomi says.

“Your beard is different,” Nara tells Martini. The party looks it over (he himself uses a mirror, naturally). Indeed, his beard is a different style than it used to be.

“My arrows are different, too,” he notes after an inspection.

Everyone else begins examining him- or herself as well. They all find an interesting array of subtle changes, such as Martini’s beard and arrows, new scars and the like. When Naomi looks for new tattoos on her body, she is shocked and appalled.

“This is disgusting,” she complains.

Her left forearm now sports a unicorn.

“Do I have any new tattoos?” wonders Martini. He pulls off his tunic- and he, too, finds a tattoo of a unicorn on his left forearm.

“It looks like my work,” Naomi mutters, unable to believe her eyes. Why the hell would I get a unicorn tattooed on me? she asks herself. What the hell happened to me- to us?

“Where are the others?” asks Nara. Nobody has an answer. “Where are we?” she expands, but nobody knows that either.

“Let’s explore,” suggests Martini. “I don’t want to just stay here in case those things come back.”

The party agrees with his reasoning, and so they head out. Before long they come into a chamber with a huge corpse in it- some kind of subterranean giant, perhaps? A carrion crawler is hanging out on it, no doubt grazing. Our heroes quickly put an end to that. Continuing along, they spill out into a large chamber with-

Horror.

A huge cage, full of docile-looking halflings, dominates the chamber. But off to one side are a pair of stocks, and in those stocks are two more shaven-headed halflings. Standing before them are a pair of mauve-skinned, tentacle faced humanoid creatures: the dreaded mind flayers. Running about the chamber like great cats are the two creatures that fled from the party’s first encounter with them. Our heroes’ blood runs cold, but not merely because of the illithids before them.

One of the figures in the stocks- is clearly a shaven-headed Jawbreaker.

Mind blasts burst out the party.

Next Time: Mind flayers and halflings and mind blasts, oh my!

 

[the Jester]

Mauve tentacles writhe before our heroes, and their blood runs cold. Mind flayers. Jawbreaker is about to become lunch for a mind flayer. Suddenly their memory problems take on a more sinister aspect. So does the absence of most of their friends- only Martini, Erasmuz, Naomi and Nara are free. Where is Airhead Ed? Federico?

Well, at least we found Jawbreaker, thinks Naomi as the slimy-skinned mind flayers let loose with their deadly mind blasts. Her mind goes completely blank with shock as mental force overwhelms her. She can’t think, can’t move... but is all too aware of the imminent danger. The wriggling tentacles seem to emanate hunger for her brain, and she can’t do anything about it.

But the others manage to stave off the terrific mental force of the illithids. Martini grits his teeth against a sudden migraine and fires his bow into one of the monsters, shooting it multiple times, including a critical hit to the face. It flops back, dead in the space of a few seconds, never able to assault his mind again.

Erasmuz gasps in fear as the other two strange cat-like predators bound towards him. He fires a crossbow bolt that shoots wildly off-target, and then one of the creatures is on him, tearing at his small form with claws and tentacles.

The other mind flayer vanishes.

Nara breathes a sigh of relief and casts a sound burst that catches both of the cat-like monsters in its area. Both of them are already wounded; one of them falls to her spell. Then Martini’s arrows shoot over and over into the remaining predator, and it staggers back, collapses and dies.

The battle over, our heroes spring immediately to release the two halflings in the stocks. One of them is indeed a shaven Jawbreaker, his head oiled and spiced. He is not responsive to the party’s words. Martini shudders. “Keep your eyes peeled for more of them,” he warns, thinking of the illithids. “One of them got away- he might be going for reinforcements or something.”

The party turns its attention to the cage full of halflings. Our heroes note the unsettling fact that the halflings have made not a peep during the battle. Neither, come to think of it, has Jawbreaker.

“Chief Jawbreaker?” says Erasmuz, shaking him by the shoulder. There is no response. He exchanges worried a glance with Nara. The party gathers around, and they all call to him to no avail.

Then Nara punches him in the face as hard as she can. A slightly puzzled cast comes to his featuers. His brow begins to crinkle, and then Jawbreaker roars, shakes his head and staggers down onto one knee for a moment. Bewildered, he looks around wildly. Seeing his friends, he roars again, then- after a few moments- calms down, panting.

“Where Jawbreaker?” he asks, after a moment.

That, the party agrees, is a very good question. Nobody knows the answer.

What has happened to us? wonders Erasmuz.

They turn their attention to the other person who had been in the stocks: another halfling male, who is unresponsive until they break his mental trance by punching him in the nose. When he shudders and comes out of his trance, however, he immediately mutters, “Anybody got some crahk?”*

“What’s that?” asks Naomi.

“Dwarven stuff. Rocks that you can smoke,” the fellow describes. “Nobody gots any?” After a moment of silence, the victim of the illithids says, “My name’s Tron.” This triggers a round of introductions, which is quickly followed up by a combination of looting of the dead mind flayer and examining the cage of halflings.

The mind flayer has nothing but a loincloth on, but Tron takes it enthusiastically. “I bet I could get some money for this,” he declares, to the dubious looks everyone else gives him.

Meanwhile, some of the halflings have drifted over to watch our heroes. Jawbreaker smashes through their cage door, and the party escorts them out. They are in various states of psychic shock, but are all too aware of what their eventual fate would be, were it not for our heroes. A few of the halflings are able to talk, but most are semi-comatose and barely responsive.

“This place sucks,” announces Nara miserably.

“What are we going to do with them?” asks Erasmuz.

“We can’t just leave them here.” Even the evil Naomi is unwilling to do that.

“They follow us,” Jawbreaker declares.

Indeed, with a little coaxing, they do. The mind-shocked halflings follow the party as it moves along. Tron chatters incessantly. “You should stay in the back,” Jawbreaker says. “You not have weapon.” Jawbreaker himself has a shortsword loaned to him by Naomi. He is hoping against hope that he will find his equipment somewhere, but...

“I don’t need a weapon,” Tron states with a stain-toothed grin. He raises up his hand, and suddenly a blazing blade of psionic energy erupts into existence. Our heroes gasp; they have never seen anything like it. With a grin, he announces, “I’m a soulknife!”

Our heroes can’t really argue with his mindblade’s usefulness, having no idea whatsoever as to what he can do, so he remains in the front of the procession with our heroes rather than with the numb crowd.

The halflings move along through the caves surrounding them for about ten minutes before stumbling into another wider cavern. Jawbreaker, leading the way, gapes at the sight before him.

Pinkish-gray brains... on legs. Three of them. Standing in an attitude of alertness, like guard dogs. Nara gives an incoherent cry as they scuttle forward with frightful urgency. The brain-dog in the lead leaps for Jawbreaker, all four of its strong legs raking at him, while the others hang back and use psychic powers against our heroes. The battle is furious. The party finds their weapons barely effective; the walking brains, meanwhile, prove both physically and mentally formidable. They manage to confuse Naomi with id insinuation, causing her to behave dangerously erratically; Jawbreaker has to hold her down in order to immobilize her and keep her from causing harm. The monstrous brains are resistant to halfling magic, too; and they can even heal their wounds. But our heroes are mighty, and not to be denied; they destroy two of the three brains, and though Nara tries to catch the last one, it escapes into the dark twists and turns of the tunnels the halflings are wandering lost within. She returns to the others, shaking her head. “It got away,” she tells them with regret.

What happened to them? How long has passed that they don’t remember? Nara grits her teeth angrily. And where are her other friends?

The thought of Jawbreaker in the stocks frightens her. What if they already ate Federico’s brain? she thinks, chilled. What about Ari? Ed?

A glad cry echoes up ahead. She hurries to see what Jawbreaker has found: his equipment!

“With this, we have chance!” he gurgles happily, hefting his longspear.

Our heroes continue to forge ahead, looking for- what? Escape, perhaps? Clues as to the cause of their strange fugue state?

An exit presents itself to them. A natural series of stone shelves begins to ascend. Soon, with a glad cry, Naomi spots the distant glow of sunlight coming in from above. She scuttles to keep up with the others, hauling her considerable bulk with pride. Up, up the stone shelves our heroes go. Ever ascending, they hurry along until- they emerge onto the surface! Their hearts burst with joy. Escape!

Except-

Their “escape” has left them in a ravine, deep and jagged, with sheer walls on all sides. A hidden place, away from prying eyes. And for escape? Escape needs climbing, several hundred feet of climbing.

For a shuddering moment, Martini thinks of old friends: of Coco, and Brother He.... deads friends.

Friends who died from climbing. These halflings are not known for their luck with climbing.

All around them, the sheer rock walls mock them, and the sun drops low enough that the entire ravine is cast in sudden shadow. It won’t be long until the sun is down completely. And then the mind flayers will come out looking for us. Erasmuz shudders at the thought.

Next Time: Will our heroes escape the ravine? What strange allies will they find? And what happened to them??

*Crahk has appeared in my game before, in 2ed, when Horbin’s player played a short lived dwarven sociopath crahk dealer (iirc the whole thing- he may have simply been a crahkhead). In this case, however, Tron’s player was rolling up his character and he got a 3. He was playing a tallfellow halfling, which in Cydra has additional ability adjustments including a -2 wis, so he has a wisdom score of 1. His player explained: “I figured there has to be a reason he has a 1 wisdom, and crack is it.” Er, crahk.

 

[the Jester]

The shadows in the ravine are growing deeper. The brain-shocked halflings mill about. Our heroes (and Tron) seem to be nearly the only ones with any sense of self-preservation or motivation.

“We have to climb,” Martini states grimly.

Naomi looks fearfully up the face of the cliff. There are some handholds, but...

“Maybe we can send one person ahead and tie a rope,” suggests Erasmuz.

“Do we have a rope?” asks Martini grimly. “Remember how different our supplies are... my arrows all have different fletching.”

“Food stores different,” Jawbreaker grunts after a quick glance into his magic bag. He frowns. The very thought that someone has tampered with his food leaves him angry. He growls softly to himself, clenching and unclenching his fists.

The party checks for rope, Tron jabbering in the background about selling the stained loincloths that the illithid the party killed had been wearing. “I bet I can get some money for these,” he says dreamily.

The others find that they have, between them, about 150’ of rope. Gazing up the ragged climb, Nara groans, “I don’t think it’s enough.”

“Two hundred feet,” nods Jawbreaker seriously. He considers the climb thoughtfully.

“Hey Chief Jawbreaker, I bet that you could climb it,” says Erasmuz cunningly.*

“Maybe- but long fall if wrong.”

“I could stop your fall with my powers, if you were in any real danger,” Erasmuz offers. “If you were to fall, that is. I bet you could make it.”

“You can stop fall?”

Erasmuz nods.

“If you can drop a rope down most of the way... maybe we can even get these other guys out of here,” Nara suggests.

“Hey!” barks Naomi at the herd of halflings behind them. Spittle flies from her fat mouth. “We’re going to get you out of here, but you’re going to have to climb.” All of us are, she didn’t add, wondering if she could haul her ponderous bulk up to the rope. If Jawbreaker can even get it up there, she thinks.

“We can’t climb that,” moans one of the halflings.

The corpulent psion replies, “You’ll have to. After all, the mind flayers will be coming once it gets dark.”

A low moan comes from the halfling crowd. They shrink back. Several clutch themselves.

“Besides, Erasmuz stops fall.” Jawbreaker grins, taking all the rope, and he begins to climb.

“Go, Chief Jawbreaker!” cries Nara.

The halflings watch, spellbound, as Jawbreaker begins to pull himself, hand over hand, up the wall of the ravine. There are many small hand- and toeholds, but the wall itself is nearly vertical. When Jawbreaker is about 40’ up, his foot slips. Everyone gasps. Jawbreaker hangs in space for a moment- then he is falling back and away from the wall, a strangled cry issuing from his mouth.

Erasmuz does nothing, his face remaining impartial as the chief slams into the ground. “I thought you said your magic could save him!” cries Nara, and the mind-shocked halflings cringe and cower back, more fearful than ever.

“He was in no danger,” Erasmuz answers. “I have to save my powers until we need them. I can only do it so many times a day.”

Jawbreaker scowls as he stands up, but Nara quickly heals him of his injuries. He begins the torturous climb again, and this time he paces himself better, taking his time and choosing his route carefully. Slowly he crawls up the side of the mountain. Finally he reaches the top, from which he casts the rope down to the others. The entire time, the others are trying to persuade the mind-shocked halflings to accompany them, but they are frightened of the attempt. Even the oncoming night doesn’t motivate them. For some of them, it’s as if they want to be recaptured by the mind flayers.

Our heroes cannot force the climb upon them. “We can’t just leave them here,” objects Nara. “They’re halflings!”

“We can’t do anything from here,” Martini reminds her. “We have to get out and see if we can get help.”

The group slowly ascends, one at a time, to the base of the climb. From there they continue up, having a much easier time of it. There are a few falls during the initial setion, but once they reach the rope everyone seems to do fine.

From the top they can see the sinking sun. Only another hour of light...

“What’s that?” Naomi points into the sky. Some kind of winged forms are in the air, and in the distance- upslope- there is some kind of large nest.

“Eggs!” they all say together at once.

Next Time: Bird-men! A monestary! Another party member! And the mystery of the fugue starts to unravel!


*I don’t know if I’ve described him this way in this thread, but Erasmuz is like a little halfling Anton Levay- bald with a goatee. And of course, he is an ur-priest.

 

[the Jester]

With the possibility of eggs and/or fowl on the horizon, it is only natural that mistakes should be made. The bird-men, potential allies, instead become prey to our hungry heroes. Sadly, there are no eggs, and the bird-men prove they are intelligent by turning out to carry javelins. Once the battle starts, there is no stopping it until it is over, and then the humanoid birds have been felled by our heroes.

“Chicken!” gurgles Naomi.

“They were intelligent,” points out Martini.

“We don’t know that,” the fat psion/elementalist replies.

He holds up one of their javelins meaningfully.

“Circumstantial evidence,” she snorts.

He just shakes his head.

“We have plenty food anyway,” Jawbreaker states, shaking his magical bag.

“Well, then, we should throw the bodies down to the halflings below,” suggests Naomi.

“Will they even eat them?” Nara asks dubiously. It seems to her that the intelligence is obvious on the bird creatures’ faces.

“They will if they don’t want to be hungry,” Erasmuz chuckles.

Martini shakes his head, but the party kicks the corpses over the edge anyway. Erasmuz has a point: without food, the halflings in the gorge below won’t be able to even defend themselves if the mind flayers come for them. We have to find a way to rescue them, the archer thinks grimly.

“Look up there,” points Nara.

Silhouetted against the darkening sky is a cliff-top building of some sort. “It looks like a monastery,” Martini muses, and Erasmuz looks uncomfortable. He has long since abandoned the precepts of his monkish training, as he has abandoned all belief in gods as anything but tools to be exploited by his powerful will.

“Maybe they can help us rescue the other halflings,” Nara says eagerly.

“Maybe they have some crahk,” Tron adds, his voice yearning. The others scowl.

***

“I saw something,” murmurs Martini abruptly. The party is panting, having climbed most of the way to the building. “I think there is a lookout.” He points.

“Do you think they’ve seen us, buddy?” Erasmuz asks nervously.

“I guess we’ll see,” the archer replies.

Soon after, as our heroes continue their ascent, they begin to hear bits of movement. Pebbles, dislodged from one location or another, bounce down from above. Shuffling sounds approach the group.

Our heroes find a ledge to await what they hope is help. A few dozen minutes pass, and then a figure arrives, small of stature and-

“It’s a kobold!” yells Martini, amazed.

But before our heroes can marshal an attack on the grubby little humanoid, it speaks to them.

“My friends!” it pipes. “How did it go?”

“Uh- what?” Nara is nonplussed.

“Oh, no,” the kobold groans.

“Have we met?” Martini asks.

“What is the last thing you remember?” the kobold inquires.

The party hesitates. Could this kobold have some of the answers to the questions that are dogging them? Erasmuz answers it after a long moment. “There was the false promised land,” he grumbles, “and a book of halfling lore...”

“Yip!” The kobold seems distressed. “The revolution? Do you remember the battle against Stackler?” Seeing our heroes’ face, the kobold sighs heavily. “You had better come with me,” it tells them. “I am sure you have many questions, my friends.

“Equally, I am sure that Father Yip is better equipped to answer them.”

Next Time: Answers at the Yip Monastery!

 

[the Jester]

The robed kobolds are all seemingly identical. It is... unnerving. They all appear to recognize the halfling heroes, but the party recognizes them not at all. All of the kobolds they meet, at first, seem to be called Brother Yip*; but then, they are shown to the one who will, apparently, answer their questions: Master Yip.

Master Yip looks much like the other kobolds, though a little older and more worn. He regards our heroes with an expression of great sadness as they approach. “You remember nothing, eh?” he asks without preamble.

“No, we don’t,” Naomi grumbles. “Who are you? What happened to us?”

“One of the other kobolds mentioned something about a revolution,” Nara adds.

“Where are we, anyway, buddy?” Erasmuz inquires.

Tron’s eyes dart around shiftily, as if looking for anything of value that is not nailed down. Unfortunately, the chamber is so sparse as to be Spartan in its furnishings.

“Jawbreaker hungry,” grumbles the chief. Though he has the bag of food, he is hoping that the kobolds will have something different and exciting to try out.

“And can you do anything to help the other halflings we had to leave behind?” Martini asks.

Master Yip raises a hand. “Please,” the kobold begs, “one thing at a time. I have much to tell you. But first... what is the last thing you remember?”

Erasmuz frowns. “I remember the false promised land, and there was this book...”

Master Yip nods knowingly at the mention of the false promised land.

Naomi adds, “Yeah, the next thing we knew we were underground, in some kind of mind flayer place...”

“But,” Master Yip asks pensively, “nothing between then and now.”

“No,” admits Erasmuz.

“Look,” Naomi snaps, “I think it’s about time you told us what’s going on!” She glowers at the Yip.

“Peace, my friends,” sighs Master Yip. “I will try to answer your questions.” He looks thoughtfully at Chief Jawbreaker. “I will have some food sent in.” The Chief grins hugely. The party gathers around, trying to make themselves comfortable, and the kobold mulls his words.

“You came here seeking our help some months ago,” Master Yip begins.

“We came here?” Nara interrupts. “Seeking your help with what?”

“The revolution,” Master Yip declares solemnly. “You had begun a fairly successful insurrection against Governor Stackler, and things were heating up. You had carried several battles against him and rallied a fair amount of support against his regime. But- and I must emphasize, we only know this because you told us about it- he was a puppet, being manipulated from behind the scenes.”

“Manipulated!” exclaims Erasmuz. “By whom?”

“By a combination of things,” the Yip replies. “By a faction of mind flayers- and by their ally.” His eyes bore into our heroes’. “By Lord Obliviax.”

“Lord Obliviax? Who- or what- is that?” demands Naomi.

It is at this point that a pair of kobold monks enter the chamber, bearing a steaming pot of plain white race. Jawbreaker’s face fills with dismay at the sight: this is neither exotic, nor flavorful, nor even particularly appealing! Surely the monks cannot actually live on such fare?? The ricebearers depart without delay, and the Chief looks like he is about to cry.

“Lord Obliviax is...” Master Yip trails off thoughtfully. “Do you know of obliviax?” he asks. The halflings shake their heads. “Obliviax, also called memory moss, is a magical form of plant life. It is known for stealing the last day’s memories from a person. It can even steal a person’s spells. Normally, it is mindless, but when it steals the memories from a person it might retain a brief semblance of intelligence.”

“Lots of things can take your memory away,” Tron pipes up suddenly. “Hey, you want to buy some mind flayer underwear?”

Before Master Yip can reply, Naomi interrupts, “So Lord Obliviax is a moss?”

“Not exactly,” Master Yip replies. “He appears to be a communal mind that has animated several colonies and joined them into one mobile form. Normally, you see, obliviax is immobile.”

“But why are they allied with mind flayers?” wonders Nara.

“It makes sense,” Erasmuz points out. “Lord Obliviax eats their memories, and then the mind flayers eat their brains.”

“What about our other friends?” asks Naomi. “Were any of them with us when we came to you? What happened to them?”

“Ahh, of course, you don’t remember,” the kobold answers. “Federico is here- but sorely wounded.” He rises gravely. “Now that you have returned, perhaps you can help him. Come, I will lead you to him.”

Our heroes follow Master Yip out of the chamber.

Next Time: Well, there’s Federico! Where’s everyone else? Our heroes find at least one more of their friends- at the mercy of the obliviax!!

*The basic concept of the Yips is blatantly stolen from another story hour (or two) around here.

 

[the Jester]

I'd say it's about that time again... time for a party roster!

Nara - female halfling cleric 5/prophet 4, LN. Nara follows the goddess Coila, goddess of time and relentlessness.
Erasmuz - male halfling wizard 1/psion 1/ranger 1/ex-monk 2/ur-priest 3, NE. Erasmuz looks like a halfling Anton La Vey.
Federico - male kobold bard 6/sorcerer 2/jester 1, CG. The clan dog.
Naomi - female halfling psion 5/elementalist 4, LE. Fat, ugly and mean; oh, and a cannibal.
Tron - male halfling soulknife 7, N. A crackhead with a wisdom of 1.
Ari - male halfling druid 8; N. Kind of a halfling hippy.
Jawbreaker - male halfling barbarian 7/bear warrior 2; CG. The 'Chief' of the clan.