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Message: <blockquote data-quote="the Jester" data-source="post: 1533891" data-attributes="member: 1210">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!!</blockquote>

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