"Out of the Frying Pan" - Book II: Catching the Spark (Part Two) - {complete}
- Thread starter el-remmen
- Start date
el-remmen
Moderator Emeritus
Hey! Stop hi-jacking my story hour to talk about Wulf's!!! Whassamatta with you you guys? 
Oh, and Halma - chances are you will catch up before I do as I am, what? 7 or 8 sessions behind. . .
Oh, and I also wanted to welcome Jon Potter and Kal Torak - and I look forward to your comments and questions. . .
Oh, and Halma - chances are you will catch up before I do as I am, what? 7 or 8 sessions behind. . .
Oh, and I also wanted to welcome Jon Potter and Kal Torak - and I look forward to your comments and questions. . .
nemmerle said:Hey! Stop hi-jacking my story hour to talk about Wulf's!!! Whassamatta with you you guys?
Oh, it's only my nefarious plan to force you to write an update ;
So now, pay the ransom, Nemm, I want an helicopter to flee, and an update in small paragraphs. Or I will convert your story in a Wulf's praise.
Metus said:
Being chief bumper of the forum, I can do s small shameless bump, can I? My story hour isn't wonderful, but it's being updated dialy. Link at my signature
And let's bump again Nemm's wonderful story. Nemm, compadre, when will you update? I want to know how the seed affair finishes...
el-remmen
Moderator Emeritus
Session #32 (part iii)
It was over three hours after he was led away that Ratchis was brought back to the camp, escorted by Drenthris and Mardak the Elder.
“Ratchis, I am glad to see you are safe,” Kazrack said, stepping forward. “Though you look as if you had a rough night.”
“I am fine,” Ratchis replied softly.
“Where is the scroll?” Mardak asked, not wasting time with greetings or false pleasantries.
The scroll was fetched for the imposing gnoll druid and he rolled it out, his long gnarled and clawed fingers holding it gingerly, as if something about it disgusted him.
Mardak the Elder intoned the words from the scroll and reached out and touched Kazrack gently on the arm.
The dwarf was seized with a sudden pain. Kazrack felt as if his arm were on fire, as he felt the bones beneath his flesh twist and turn and re-join and re-knit. He gritted his teeth and did not let one word of complain pass his lips and in less than a moment the pain receded. He flexed his arm back and forth. It felt as good as new.
“I thank you,” Kazrack said to the gnoll.
“It is your half-orc friend you should thank,” Mardak replied. He made no attempt to hide his disgust for the entire group.
“I fully intend to,” Kazrack said.
Mardak turned away, and walked from the camp,
“I hope you are now able to complete your task with no further complications, except of course those that may occur on the night of the full moon itself in the Glade of Hennaire,” Drenthis said.
“And what would those be?” Martin asked.
“That remains to be seen,” the drow elf druid replied, and walked out of the camp.
------------
The next day was the Day of Deathlessness (144). Beorth observed the day in silence, and did not aid Kazrack in his task. Kazrack began his actual forging, asking the paladin’s forgiveness if he did not observe the holidays of the human god. Ratchis helped Kazrack some, but in general everyone was very somber.
-----------
And so, the days passed with Kazrack working diligently, and the others helped how they could. On several occasions, the others were led to where they could collect more wood, but mostly there was little to do. Jeremy was the most bored. He spent a lot of his time practicing headstands and cartwheels and running and jumping as much as possible. At time, Martin would create illusions and Jeremy would try to instruct him on how to make their combat actions look more believable. Martin also built a ladder by lashing wood together, and he and Ratchis built a barricade atop the smaller forge, basically creating a defensive position above the area from which a better view and aim could be gained against any that might attack the forge on the night of the full moon.
During this time, the trees about the glade continued to encroach upon the small area the forge was in. In addition, it seemed that more trees were ‘arriving’, and the wood itself was thicker. The progression was a few feet a day and always seemed to happen at night, noticed when the party would arrive at the Glade for another day’s work.
On several occasions the trenches were partially collapsed again, and once they were partially flooded. And while the weather was generally warmer during this, the last month of the year, on one occasion a cold slushy rain fell out the sky in bucketfuls, making for a miserable day for the party, huddled by the bonfire or the forges, trying to stay warm and as dry as possible.
Kazrack completed all but the final touches on the sickle on the fifteenth of Onk, which was good thing because the next night was the first night of the full moon. The sickle was of excellent quality and had silver inlaid on part of the blade in blockish designs that suggested dwarven runic art.
Isilem, 16th of Onk – 564 H.E.
It was not long after Ra’s Glory had set that the moon rose, bright and full, but a fuzzy gray as is always the case with Mind’s Eie. (145)
Kazrack pulled the sickle from where he had kept it safe, and placed it on the large anvil that was provided for him.
“Once I start working on this I am unsure how long I can stop doing it without violating the terms of my task,” Kazrack said, as Martin and Jana took up positions atop the forge, and behind the make-shift battlement. “So, I will only stop to help if I see someone dying.”
“The trees are moving!” Martin hissed, and they all looked to see the line of trees advancing all around them, as if their upper branches were arms that pulled skirt-hem roots up out of the ground and creep forward daintily like old crones dressed as young girls at a cotillion.
Kazrack began to work. He hammered at the blade rhythmically, and there was an answer call as the trees took their place less than twenty feet around the forge area. It was the sound of a wood flute, light and playful on the breeze. The notes it played moved up and down and around the rhythm of the dwarf’s hammer. A second theme joined it from the other side of the now very small clearing, and then a third. They wove around each other, emphasizing certain portions of the main melody as they came together for a measure and then flew apart again, like feathers dancing on the wind.
“I’m sorry I got you guys into this,” Jeremy said. “But I’ll do my best to get you all out of it.”
“That is all we can ask,” Martin said from atop the now cold forge.
A figure stepped out of the trees. It was a beautiful brown-skinned woman dressed in a green gossamer gown and barefoot in the grass. She had long flowing brown hair that seemed to have green highlights in the glare of the raging bonfire, and complimented her emerald eyes. She looked right at the party, smiling and curtsied and then began to dance.
“Is she the danger?” Martin wondered aloud.
Around and around the forge area she danced and now other instruments joined the wood flutes. There were higher pitched chimes and lower-pitched wood-winds winding together in such a way that it always felt held together by Kazrack’s hammer blows. Suddenly, another woman joined the first, and she too was dancing her movements perfectly matching those of the first, and before the two of them had made a quarter rotation about clearing, another woman joined them, and then another and then another. And soon, seven beautiful women danced about the clearing, each in a nearly sheer dress of a different color. The first had worn green, but there was soft sky blue, and flaming orange-red, and daisy-yellow and oaken brown, royal purple and lilly-white.
“Nephthys, grant me the strength of the bull, like that of the slaves of yore that broke the yoke of tyranny that held them against their will,” Ratchis said, invoking his goddess’ power to increase his already great strength.
As the six new women continued to dance, the first stepped out of the circle towards where Jana sat upon the forge next to Martin.
The woman’s smile broadened and she motioned for the young witch to come towards her. She then feigned the main dance step in time with her companions as they really did it.
“I don’t think we should do this,” Martin said.
“It only seems to be me she wants,” Jana said.
“I think she is your friend. The one you’ve been waiting for,” Beorth said. “The one the druids mentioned.” (146)
“Do you think so?” Jana asked, looking back to face Beorth. “I don’t know. This is kind of weird.”
“Don’t do it,” Ratchis said.
But Jana shrugged her shoulders and climbed down the ladder and made her way out to the circle of dancing women. Jana was overcome with the scent of flowers in full bloom as she stepped up to the green-clad woman, and took her hand.
“Just follow what we do,” the woman said. Her voice lilted perfectly as if she were singing with the music that had still had not stopped.
Jana tried to mimic their dance, but several portions of it were difficult for her untrained feet. It also seemed to suddenly change at times, and though the seven women seemed to be reacting to some unknown cue, Jana would stumble and one or more of the women would gracefully step up to her nad keep her on her feet.
Round and round they all went, most often evenly spaced in the circle.
The first dancer stopped again, and this time she beckoned to Jeremy. Unable to stop himself, Jeremy moved to run out to the circle of dancing women.
“What are you doing?” Ratchis cried, grabbing the Neergaardian by the shoulder.
“She wants me. Didn’t you see?” Jeremy replied, his eyes jerking back towards the beautiful woman as he shrugged Ratchis’ hand off.
“What if they are evil?” Ratchis asked.
“They are not evil. They just want to dance!”
“It’s you’re choice,” Ratchis sighed.
“Yeah, so let go!” Jeremy skipped towards the woman, leaping over the trenches around the area. She swayed her hips provocatively to the music.
“My name’s Jeremy, what’s yours?” he asked, reaching a hand out as he approached her.
Suddenly, the trees began to move again, but this time only one tree for each dancing woman, moving forward five feet to mark the dancing circle.
Kazrack’s rhythm continued, as did the music about it. Jana continued to dance with the other women.
Martin loaded his crossbow.
Jeremy reached out to touch the woman, but she gracefully danced away and seemed to step right into the tree that had stepped out nearest her. Out from the other side of the tree appeared another of the women. Jana stopped dancing in shock. It suddenly became clear what happened, the women had each moved one place around the circle by entering the tree nearest them and exiting the next tree to the their right.
While beautiful, Jeremy did not feel the same way about the woman closest to him as he had the first. There was something just so charming about her. He had to talk to her. He jogged over towards where she danced now, moving continually wither shins, and towards the next tree.
There was a suddenly change in the music, and the woody sounds of pan-flutes became a sudden frenzy of chimes, whistles and plucked strings. It seemed to fit perfectly with softer and faster sound of Kazrack working the blade’s curve.
From among the trees came flying a dozens of swirling colors balls of light that seemed to orbit a center part in groups of three and then dance around in place in seven places about the circle, one cluster above each of the trees. In the light of the bonfire the party could see that the dancing lights actually orbited tiny little green-skinned men in green clothing and feathered caps. They each had a set of four mosquito-like wings sized for their foot tall forms. As the watched in amazement the little faeries gestured as if working a marionette, and beneath each, rose a pile of sticks that took the shape of man and danced to frenzied music manipulated by the invisible pixie strings. They little men giggled uncontrollably, shaking their rear-ends happily in the air as they made their stick men dance.
Beorth moved over to the bonfire and picked up a log that burned at one end. It was one of several the party had purposefully left at the edge of the fire to allow for easy access.
One of the stick marionettes crumbled as one of the pixies swooped down towards where Martin took everything in jaw agape, crossbow in hand and simply touched him on the top of the head. Martin was taken a back for a second and then a look of great anger filled his face as he flushed and he swung the crossbow in his hand at the little man as it swooped out of the way.
“Come back you little thief!” Martin cried.
“What did he take from you?” Ratchis called up.
“He stole my bag,” Martin cried, standing. His satchel hung at his hip as usual.
As Jeremy nearly reached the object of his very recent affections, each of the women stepped into a tree again and switched positions.
“Come back, I just want to talk to you,” Jeremy whined.
“Lady of the Raised Shield protect me from those who might cause me harm,” Kazrack intoned, pausing his work to cast a spell upon himself.
As suddenly as the anger had come over him, Martin stopped and looked into the colored light hovering above them all. “Pretty,” he said, a bit of drool slipping from the corner of his mouth.
Beorth dropped the small burning log into one of the spiked trenches that the party had soaked with oil and set it alight.
Ratchis’ head turned to the left and right, trying to keep himself abreast of everything going on. Jeremy continued to run after the woman that had beckoned him out of the defense of the forge area, while Martin continued to drool.
Another of the little men swooped down, and this time he touched Beorth on the cheek, and he too was overcome with a great anger and pulling his long sword cut deep into the little man.
“Auughh!” the pixie cried out and fell into one of the trenches, impaling himself.
Suddenly, all the stick man marionettes collapsed and all the pixies buzzed angrily.
“Ooh! Ooh! That’s not funny!” they all chittered in their impossibly high-pitched voices.
Ratchis reacted quickly and reached into the trench and placed a hand on the dying pixie and the other on his holy symbol about his waist.
“Nephthys! Grant me your blessing for this strange creature so that this night might continue peacefully,” he called to his goddess. The creature stirred and immediately began a giggle that was interrupted by a cry of pain. He then laughed some more.
“You should be more careful,” Ratchis said to the faerie as it flew back up to join its companions.
“Beorth, why did you attack it?” Ratchis asked, as he saw Martin leap off the top of the forge and make his way to the large stone table that served as part of the work area in the glade. He swung his staff about him wildly.
“He hit me,” Beorth explained to Ratchis, a vacant look in his eyes.
“We should try to restrain ourselves unless they really hurt us,” Ratchis suggested wisely.
“Ratchis! Martin is acting weird!” Kazrack said, continuing with his hammering even as he looked up.
“I’m flying!” Martin cried, flapping the ends of his staff up and down as if they were wings. Martin’s long brown hair waggled in the humid air.
“Something is wrong with Beorth as well,” Ratchis cried. “Jeremy get back in here!” The half-orc grabbed Martin by the ankle easily, as the watch-mage was nearly four feet in the air atop the stone table. Martin responded by smacking Ratchis in the chin with the butt of his staff, drawing blood. Suddenly, Beorth thrust his sword at the half-orc as well. Ratchis turned awkwardly so his armor took the majority of the blow, but he winced with pain.
“I don’t want to go to bed yet, Mommy!” Martin cried.
The music changed again. The deep sound of Kazrack knocking the blade into the wooden handle with a mallet was echoed by deep drums in the woods.
Faintly, they could now here the sound of galloping coming from the east.
“Woo-hoo! They’re coming! They’re coming!” the pixies began to screech.
The seven dancing women screeched and disappeared into the trees and did not re-emerge.
“I don’t like this,” Jana said, and began to move back into the forge area.
Ratchis had never let go of Martin’s ankle despite the wounds he suffered and he yanked the Watch-mage onto his face.
“Stay down and calm down!” Ratchis commanded.
“Where’d you go?” Jeremy cried to the trees that had swallowed the woman. However, unnerved by the drums and galloping he sprinted towards the tall forge and leapt up into the air, vaulting over it. He landed beside Kazrack.
“I didn’t want to leave her out there,” Jeremy said.
“Jana?” Kazrack asked.
“No, not Jana,’ Jeremy said. “The girl. She’s beautiful.”
Beorth wandered away from Ratchis and out of the forge area. Jana spotted him and hustled over towards the paladin to keep him from wandering too far.
Ratchis yanked Martin’s leg to pull him off the table, but the feeble watch-mage managed to keep his grasp to the table edge and hold on for dear life, crying to his mommy the whole time. Jeremy hurried over and grabbed the other ankle and yanked Martin off onto the ground. However, at that same moment one of the pixies cried, “More people dancing!” and pointed at Jeremy and the Neergaardian began a jig.
“I can’t stop dancing!” Jeremy cried, his arms flailing widly.
The galloping grew louder and louder and suddenly from the trees emerged seven pairs of men. But they were not normal men. They had thick hair legs like a goat’s that ended in cloven hooves. They had hairy barrel-chests and curly brown lock on their heads that could not hide two small horns. They wielded thick cudgels and had wild looks in their eyes, hooting to the rhythm of the drums. They danced as well, slamming their clubs against each others as if fighting, but never connecting. They created their own dancing ring, and at time one would swing low and the other would leap over the blow and then return a high blow the other would duck.
Beorth stumbled past two of them, who swung as if part of the dance, but tried to knock the paladin down. Fortunately for him his confused stumbling led him out of the ways of the blows and the goat-men continued to dance. Jana reached Beorth and grabbed him to pull him back into the defensive circle, but the paladin pulled away. Ratchis hustled to aid his two companions, and was shocked to watch Beorth turn and cut deep into Jana’s side.
She cried out in pain.
End of Session #32
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Notes:
(144) The Day of Deathlessness is said to be the one time of the year when the gates to Anubis’
Realm are closed. It is somber day and people tend to speak in quiet tones, if at all (Monks of Anubis take a vow of silence) and many people refrain from work or any dangerous activity. It is said that those that die this are doomed to walk the world and never find rest.
(145) Aquerra’s moon is called Mind’s Eie by humans. It has a fuzzy nearly grayish light.
(146) See Session #32 (part I).
It was over three hours after he was led away that Ratchis was brought back to the camp, escorted by Drenthris and Mardak the Elder.
“Ratchis, I am glad to see you are safe,” Kazrack said, stepping forward. “Though you look as if you had a rough night.”
“I am fine,” Ratchis replied softly.
“Where is the scroll?” Mardak asked, not wasting time with greetings or false pleasantries.
The scroll was fetched for the imposing gnoll druid and he rolled it out, his long gnarled and clawed fingers holding it gingerly, as if something about it disgusted him.
Mardak the Elder intoned the words from the scroll and reached out and touched Kazrack gently on the arm.
The dwarf was seized with a sudden pain. Kazrack felt as if his arm were on fire, as he felt the bones beneath his flesh twist and turn and re-join and re-knit. He gritted his teeth and did not let one word of complain pass his lips and in less than a moment the pain receded. He flexed his arm back and forth. It felt as good as new.
“I thank you,” Kazrack said to the gnoll.
“It is your half-orc friend you should thank,” Mardak replied. He made no attempt to hide his disgust for the entire group.
“I fully intend to,” Kazrack said.
Mardak turned away, and walked from the camp,
“I hope you are now able to complete your task with no further complications, except of course those that may occur on the night of the full moon itself in the Glade of Hennaire,” Drenthis said.
“And what would those be?” Martin asked.
“That remains to be seen,” the drow elf druid replied, and walked out of the camp.
------------
The next day was the Day of Deathlessness (144). Beorth observed the day in silence, and did not aid Kazrack in his task. Kazrack began his actual forging, asking the paladin’s forgiveness if he did not observe the holidays of the human god. Ratchis helped Kazrack some, but in general everyone was very somber.
-----------
And so, the days passed with Kazrack working diligently, and the others helped how they could. On several occasions, the others were led to where they could collect more wood, but mostly there was little to do. Jeremy was the most bored. He spent a lot of his time practicing headstands and cartwheels and running and jumping as much as possible. At time, Martin would create illusions and Jeremy would try to instruct him on how to make their combat actions look more believable. Martin also built a ladder by lashing wood together, and he and Ratchis built a barricade atop the smaller forge, basically creating a defensive position above the area from which a better view and aim could be gained against any that might attack the forge on the night of the full moon.
During this time, the trees about the glade continued to encroach upon the small area the forge was in. In addition, it seemed that more trees were ‘arriving’, and the wood itself was thicker. The progression was a few feet a day and always seemed to happen at night, noticed when the party would arrive at the Glade for another day’s work.
On several occasions the trenches were partially collapsed again, and once they were partially flooded. And while the weather was generally warmer during this, the last month of the year, on one occasion a cold slushy rain fell out the sky in bucketfuls, making for a miserable day for the party, huddled by the bonfire or the forges, trying to stay warm and as dry as possible.
Kazrack completed all but the final touches on the sickle on the fifteenth of Onk, which was good thing because the next night was the first night of the full moon. The sickle was of excellent quality and had silver inlaid on part of the blade in blockish designs that suggested dwarven runic art.
Isilem, 16th of Onk – 564 H.E.
It was not long after Ra’s Glory had set that the moon rose, bright and full, but a fuzzy gray as is always the case with Mind’s Eie. (145)
Kazrack pulled the sickle from where he had kept it safe, and placed it on the large anvil that was provided for him.
“Once I start working on this I am unsure how long I can stop doing it without violating the terms of my task,” Kazrack said, as Martin and Jana took up positions atop the forge, and behind the make-shift battlement. “So, I will only stop to help if I see someone dying.”
“The trees are moving!” Martin hissed, and they all looked to see the line of trees advancing all around them, as if their upper branches were arms that pulled skirt-hem roots up out of the ground and creep forward daintily like old crones dressed as young girls at a cotillion.
Kazrack began to work. He hammered at the blade rhythmically, and there was an answer call as the trees took their place less than twenty feet around the forge area. It was the sound of a wood flute, light and playful on the breeze. The notes it played moved up and down and around the rhythm of the dwarf’s hammer. A second theme joined it from the other side of the now very small clearing, and then a third. They wove around each other, emphasizing certain portions of the main melody as they came together for a measure and then flew apart again, like feathers dancing on the wind.
“I’m sorry I got you guys into this,” Jeremy said. “But I’ll do my best to get you all out of it.”
“That is all we can ask,” Martin said from atop the now cold forge.
A figure stepped out of the trees. It was a beautiful brown-skinned woman dressed in a green gossamer gown and barefoot in the grass. She had long flowing brown hair that seemed to have green highlights in the glare of the raging bonfire, and complimented her emerald eyes. She looked right at the party, smiling and curtsied and then began to dance.
“Is she the danger?” Martin wondered aloud.
Around and around the forge area she danced and now other instruments joined the wood flutes. There were higher pitched chimes and lower-pitched wood-winds winding together in such a way that it always felt held together by Kazrack’s hammer blows. Suddenly, another woman joined the first, and she too was dancing her movements perfectly matching those of the first, and before the two of them had made a quarter rotation about clearing, another woman joined them, and then another and then another. And soon, seven beautiful women danced about the clearing, each in a nearly sheer dress of a different color. The first had worn green, but there was soft sky blue, and flaming orange-red, and daisy-yellow and oaken brown, royal purple and lilly-white.
“Nephthys, grant me the strength of the bull, like that of the slaves of yore that broke the yoke of tyranny that held them against their will,” Ratchis said, invoking his goddess’ power to increase his already great strength.
As the six new women continued to dance, the first stepped out of the circle towards where Jana sat upon the forge next to Martin.
The woman’s smile broadened and she motioned for the young witch to come towards her. She then feigned the main dance step in time with her companions as they really did it.
“I don’t think we should do this,” Martin said.
“It only seems to be me she wants,” Jana said.
“I think she is your friend. The one you’ve been waiting for,” Beorth said. “The one the druids mentioned.” (146)
“Do you think so?” Jana asked, looking back to face Beorth. “I don’t know. This is kind of weird.”
“Don’t do it,” Ratchis said.
But Jana shrugged her shoulders and climbed down the ladder and made her way out to the circle of dancing women. Jana was overcome with the scent of flowers in full bloom as she stepped up to the green-clad woman, and took her hand.
“Just follow what we do,” the woman said. Her voice lilted perfectly as if she were singing with the music that had still had not stopped.
Jana tried to mimic their dance, but several portions of it were difficult for her untrained feet. It also seemed to suddenly change at times, and though the seven women seemed to be reacting to some unknown cue, Jana would stumble and one or more of the women would gracefully step up to her nad keep her on her feet.
Round and round they all went, most often evenly spaced in the circle.
The first dancer stopped again, and this time she beckoned to Jeremy. Unable to stop himself, Jeremy moved to run out to the circle of dancing women.
“What are you doing?” Ratchis cried, grabbing the Neergaardian by the shoulder.
“She wants me. Didn’t you see?” Jeremy replied, his eyes jerking back towards the beautiful woman as he shrugged Ratchis’ hand off.
“What if they are evil?” Ratchis asked.
“They are not evil. They just want to dance!”
“It’s you’re choice,” Ratchis sighed.
“Yeah, so let go!” Jeremy skipped towards the woman, leaping over the trenches around the area. She swayed her hips provocatively to the music.
“My name’s Jeremy, what’s yours?” he asked, reaching a hand out as he approached her.
Suddenly, the trees began to move again, but this time only one tree for each dancing woman, moving forward five feet to mark the dancing circle.
Kazrack’s rhythm continued, as did the music about it. Jana continued to dance with the other women.
Martin loaded his crossbow.
Jeremy reached out to touch the woman, but she gracefully danced away and seemed to step right into the tree that had stepped out nearest her. Out from the other side of the tree appeared another of the women. Jana stopped dancing in shock. It suddenly became clear what happened, the women had each moved one place around the circle by entering the tree nearest them and exiting the next tree to the their right.
While beautiful, Jeremy did not feel the same way about the woman closest to him as he had the first. There was something just so charming about her. He had to talk to her. He jogged over towards where she danced now, moving continually wither shins, and towards the next tree.
There was a suddenly change in the music, and the woody sounds of pan-flutes became a sudden frenzy of chimes, whistles and plucked strings. It seemed to fit perfectly with softer and faster sound of Kazrack working the blade’s curve.
From among the trees came flying a dozens of swirling colors balls of light that seemed to orbit a center part in groups of three and then dance around in place in seven places about the circle, one cluster above each of the trees. In the light of the bonfire the party could see that the dancing lights actually orbited tiny little green-skinned men in green clothing and feathered caps. They each had a set of four mosquito-like wings sized for their foot tall forms. As the watched in amazement the little faeries gestured as if working a marionette, and beneath each, rose a pile of sticks that took the shape of man and danced to frenzied music manipulated by the invisible pixie strings. They little men giggled uncontrollably, shaking their rear-ends happily in the air as they made their stick men dance.
Beorth moved over to the bonfire and picked up a log that burned at one end. It was one of several the party had purposefully left at the edge of the fire to allow for easy access.
One of the stick marionettes crumbled as one of the pixies swooped down towards where Martin took everything in jaw agape, crossbow in hand and simply touched him on the top of the head. Martin was taken a back for a second and then a look of great anger filled his face as he flushed and he swung the crossbow in his hand at the little man as it swooped out of the way.
“Come back you little thief!” Martin cried.
“What did he take from you?” Ratchis called up.
“He stole my bag,” Martin cried, standing. His satchel hung at his hip as usual.
As Jeremy nearly reached the object of his very recent affections, each of the women stepped into a tree again and switched positions.
“Come back, I just want to talk to you,” Jeremy whined.
“Lady of the Raised Shield protect me from those who might cause me harm,” Kazrack intoned, pausing his work to cast a spell upon himself.
As suddenly as the anger had come over him, Martin stopped and looked into the colored light hovering above them all. “Pretty,” he said, a bit of drool slipping from the corner of his mouth.
Beorth dropped the small burning log into one of the spiked trenches that the party had soaked with oil and set it alight.
Ratchis’ head turned to the left and right, trying to keep himself abreast of everything going on. Jeremy continued to run after the woman that had beckoned him out of the defense of the forge area, while Martin continued to drool.
Another of the little men swooped down, and this time he touched Beorth on the cheek, and he too was overcome with a great anger and pulling his long sword cut deep into the little man.
“Auughh!” the pixie cried out and fell into one of the trenches, impaling himself.
Suddenly, all the stick man marionettes collapsed and all the pixies buzzed angrily.
“Ooh! Ooh! That’s not funny!” they all chittered in their impossibly high-pitched voices.
Ratchis reacted quickly and reached into the trench and placed a hand on the dying pixie and the other on his holy symbol about his waist.
“Nephthys! Grant me your blessing for this strange creature so that this night might continue peacefully,” he called to his goddess. The creature stirred and immediately began a giggle that was interrupted by a cry of pain. He then laughed some more.
“You should be more careful,” Ratchis said to the faerie as it flew back up to join its companions.
“Beorth, why did you attack it?” Ratchis asked, as he saw Martin leap off the top of the forge and make his way to the large stone table that served as part of the work area in the glade. He swung his staff about him wildly.
“He hit me,” Beorth explained to Ratchis, a vacant look in his eyes.
“We should try to restrain ourselves unless they really hurt us,” Ratchis suggested wisely.
“Ratchis! Martin is acting weird!” Kazrack said, continuing with his hammering even as he looked up.
“I’m flying!” Martin cried, flapping the ends of his staff up and down as if they were wings. Martin’s long brown hair waggled in the humid air.
“Something is wrong with Beorth as well,” Ratchis cried. “Jeremy get back in here!” The half-orc grabbed Martin by the ankle easily, as the watch-mage was nearly four feet in the air atop the stone table. Martin responded by smacking Ratchis in the chin with the butt of his staff, drawing blood. Suddenly, Beorth thrust his sword at the half-orc as well. Ratchis turned awkwardly so his armor took the majority of the blow, but he winced with pain.
“I don’t want to go to bed yet, Mommy!” Martin cried.
The music changed again. The deep sound of Kazrack knocking the blade into the wooden handle with a mallet was echoed by deep drums in the woods.
Faintly, they could now here the sound of galloping coming from the east.
“Woo-hoo! They’re coming! They’re coming!” the pixies began to screech.
The seven dancing women screeched and disappeared into the trees and did not re-emerge.
“I don’t like this,” Jana said, and began to move back into the forge area.
Ratchis had never let go of Martin’s ankle despite the wounds he suffered and he yanked the Watch-mage onto his face.
“Stay down and calm down!” Ratchis commanded.
“Where’d you go?” Jeremy cried to the trees that had swallowed the woman. However, unnerved by the drums and galloping he sprinted towards the tall forge and leapt up into the air, vaulting over it. He landed beside Kazrack.
“I didn’t want to leave her out there,” Jeremy said.
“Jana?” Kazrack asked.
“No, not Jana,’ Jeremy said. “The girl. She’s beautiful.”
Beorth wandered away from Ratchis and out of the forge area. Jana spotted him and hustled over towards the paladin to keep him from wandering too far.
Ratchis yanked Martin’s leg to pull him off the table, but the feeble watch-mage managed to keep his grasp to the table edge and hold on for dear life, crying to his mommy the whole time. Jeremy hurried over and grabbed the other ankle and yanked Martin off onto the ground. However, at that same moment one of the pixies cried, “More people dancing!” and pointed at Jeremy and the Neergaardian began a jig.
“I can’t stop dancing!” Jeremy cried, his arms flailing widly.
The galloping grew louder and louder and suddenly from the trees emerged seven pairs of men. But they were not normal men. They had thick hair legs like a goat’s that ended in cloven hooves. They had hairy barrel-chests and curly brown lock on their heads that could not hide two small horns. They wielded thick cudgels and had wild looks in their eyes, hooting to the rhythm of the drums. They danced as well, slamming their clubs against each others as if fighting, but never connecting. They created their own dancing ring, and at time one would swing low and the other would leap over the blow and then return a high blow the other would duck.
Beorth stumbled past two of them, who swung as if part of the dance, but tried to knock the paladin down. Fortunately for him his confused stumbling led him out of the ways of the blows and the goat-men continued to dance. Jana reached Beorth and grabbed him to pull him back into the defensive circle, but the paladin pulled away. Ratchis hustled to aid his two companions, and was shocked to watch Beorth turn and cut deep into Jana’s side.
She cried out in pain.
End of Session #32
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Notes:
(144) The Day of Deathlessness is said to be the one time of the year when the gates to Anubis’
Realm are closed. It is somber day and people tend to speak in quiet tones, if at all (Monks of Anubis take a vow of silence) and many people refrain from work or any dangerous activity. It is said that those that die this are doomed to walk the world and never find rest.
(145) Aquerra’s moon is called Mind’s Eie by humans. It has a fuzzy nearly grayish light.
(146) See Session #32 (part I).
Last edited:
Similar Threads
