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Sagiro's Story Hour Returns (new thread started on 5/18/08)
- Thread starter Sagiro
- Start date
Graywolf-ELM
Explorer
KidCthulhu said:
The last piece in the toaster oven. yes, that is it.
GW
Sagiro
Rodent of Uncertain Parentage
I apologize for any typos -- it's late, and I need to sleep, and don't have time for a thorough proof-read.
Sagiro’s Story Hour, Part 265
The Legend of Crunchy
“This dragon sucked! It wouldn’t eat me! What’s up with that?”
Dranko complains even as pulls hard on a tooth, freeing it from the dragon’s huge maw. You can never have too many souvenirs.
“We should warn the halflings,” says Morningstar.
“Let’s hope they ignore the halflings and keep coming after us,” says Grey Wolf.
Dranko pries off a large yellow scale. “Kibi, that was the best use of a spell I’ve ever seen.”
Kibi puffs up with pride. “I am glad it turned out well,” he says, grinning. Dranko jumps off the dragon’s back and lands gracefully next to the dwarf.
“And for another thing,” says Dranko. “We’ve killed two of these dragons now, and I’ve got zero lairs. Zero! That’s where all the loot is. We should go find this one’s lair.”
The others quickly point out that that would likely take them closer to the Emperor, while doing nothing about getting back to their own time. Dranko sighs.
* *
According to Morningstar’s commune, the answer to returning home is on the island of Nahalm. And the best lead there is to find the dwarven wizard, Cranchus. It’s possible that he’s still alive, given the strange longevity of archmages, and the natural longer lifespan of dwarves. Cranchus is/was an Earth Mage, and as such might be able to do something to fix the Eyes of Moirel. That makes their logical next stop the Kalkas Peaks, and the dwarven city of Hae Kalkas.
It’s a long shot, but it’s all they have.
Worried about the Emperor’s ability to track them, they Company first wind walks an hour toward the (randomly chosen) town of West Nydem, after Dranko has stated out loud (for the sake of any nearby scrying sensors) that they’re headed to that location. Even so, Morningstar casts nondetection on Aravis, while Kibi does the same for Ernie. They skim low across the ground.
There’s no sign of pursuit during the trip, only the gentle waving of tall moonlit grass a few feet below them. Of course, there’s no town of West Nydem this far back in the past, and they see no other settlements en route, so they land at the edge of a small wood and camp under the trees, protected by a Mordenkainen’s private sanctum and an alarm spell.
Nothing accosts them overnight, and the next morning they spend an hour dining on a sumptuous heroes’ feast provided by Ernie. (In fact, this is now Standard Breakfasting Procedure whenever logistically possible.) They discuss ways of protecting themselves from detection, but Aravis is extremely pessimistic on that count. He feels the dragon-rider can find them no matter what they do, and while he might be slowed down by his lack of dragon, Aravis points out that he can clearly teleport or something like it. The dragon couldn’t have followed them so closely while they were wind walking across the water, after all.
Dranko casts an augury: Will casting nondetection on the whole party bring us weal or woe?
The answer: Better than nothing
“Delioch approves,” says Dranko. “He thinks it’s a great idea.”
Between casters and magic items, everyone is placed under nondetection, and they fly off toward where Hae Kalkas used to be. (Ernie tries find the path to “Cranchus’s bedroom,” but this produces no result. That could mean that a) the spell was foiled, or b) Cranchus doesn’t exist in this time, or c) that Cranchus exists but doesn’t have a bedoom.)
“Can you sense Wild Magic?” Morningstar asks Kibi. “That could tell us where Cranchus is, or at least his direction.”
“Well, yes, I can feel it around me,” says Kibi. “But I couldn’t sense Cranchus from this far away.”
“We should just go to Hae Kalkas and start asking around,” says Dranko.
“Won’t we get in trouble?” asks Morningstar. “Remember what happened last time we just showed up in town and started asking questions about an Archmage?” (She refers to their attempt to find Alykeen in Minok, way back in the early days of their adventuring careers.)
“He might not be an Archmage this far back in time,” says Dranko. Then something occurs to him, and he brightens. “Hey, and you know what? I know exactly how far in the past we are! How cool is that?”
“How do you know?” asks Flicker.
“I cast know age on the Wilburforce Statue, back in our own time. It’s 2661 years old.”
“Yikes,” says Flicker. “Doesn’t that mean Cranchus might not have even been born yet?”
* *
They reach the eastern end of the Kalkas Peaks, and below them they spot a dwarven town in about the place Hae Kalkas used to be. It’s much smaller than the city they know, and to Dranko’s disappointment there are no archmage-y looking towers poking up anywhere in sight. They land outside of town, where Morningstar tries casting find the path toward the biggest source of wild magic. She gets nothing.
“Let’s go talk to people!” exclaims Dranko.
“Grey Wolf,” says Bostock. “You should go. It will be an excellent opportunity to work on your diplomatic skills!”
Grey Wolf nods and volunteers. They can’t all go in while maintaining disguises, so a small group is sent. Yoba, Ernie and Kibi will go as they are, while Grey Wolf uses Dranko’s robe of blending to appear as a (still taller than average) dwarf. They are linked to the rest of the party with the usual telepathic bond, and the reconnoitering group heads on foot down the road. They pass a fork which heads up into the mountains, toward where Kibi’s home town of Eggemoggin used to be. (When Morningstar asks, Kibi explains that while his family has been in Eggemoggin for as far back as anyone can remember, there’s no way he’ll know anyone there now.)
They meet no one on the road, and soon approach the wall of what they’re still calling “Hae Kalkas.” The wall is more of a token boundary than a real fortification – 10’ high stone and barely wide enough for sentries. There are a couple of dwarves manning the northern gate and the walls above it, and also a pair of bored-looking humans. As they get closer, they see that the uniforms on the human soldiers are the same as that of the dragon-rider – the Sable Guard.
“The Emperor has a presence here,” comments Grey Wolf. “Damn.”
“Better to keep walking,” mutters Ernie nervously.
The humans guards have taken notice of them now, and are watching them closely. As the recon group reaches the gate, the dwarven guards snap to attention while the humans barely stir.
“Halt!” exclaims one of the human guards, getting slowly to his feet. “Names?”
“Ernest Roundhill.”
“Yoba Stoutheart.”
“Kibilhathur Bimson.”
“Axebreaker,” says Grey Wolf. “Nord Axebreaker.”
“Business?” asks the guard.
“We want to sell metals from my home village,” says Kibi.
“Here to sell goods,” says the human half to himself, writing in a small book. “Do you have any contracts with local guilds?”
“No,” says Kibi. “That’s why we’re here. We want to acquire contracts so we can do business here. We’re at the preliminary stages. We’ll need money to finance our mining operations.”
The soldier of the Sable Guard turns to his human fellow and they both chuckle, while the dwarves glower but say nothing.
“Do you expect to do a good business?” asks the human.
“I hope so, though it’s always dicey with an untapped vein,” says Kibi.
“Gems?”
“Actually, it’s a bit of silver.”
“If you’re going to do business in Stonehold, there a standard gate tax. 30 gold pieces will cover the lot of you.”
Oh. That’s a problem. No one bothered to pick up local currency in Greenshire, and it won’t do to present coins that won’t be minted for another couple of millennia. Kibi fishes in his pouch and hands over a ruby worth about 50 gold. The human looks skeptical, but passes it around to the dwarves for inspection. When the dwarves seem impressed with its value, the human pockets the gem.
“Ok, good enough. Move along then.”
Once through the gate, Yoba comments, “They didn’t ask for papers. That’s a good sign, right?”
As a first order of business, Kibi flags down a dwarf on the street.
“Excuse me. I don’t mean to bother you, but I’m looking for a place to sell some gems, to get a good value. Can you recommend me a place?”
“Sure!” says the dwarf. “It’s on the other side of town, but he’s good. Kendo’s his name.” The dwarf gives Kibi directions to a street of moneylenders and gem traders. As they walk through the streets of Stonehold on a quest for current currency, they see that the main town guard is all human, dressed in the same sable uniforms. Dwarves and humans alike look askance at the halflings, and also at Grey Wolf, whose height makes him the equivalent of a 6’10” human. It’s clear soon enough that the local dwarves try not to have anything to do with the humans if they can help it.
Speaking of which: a human guard steps abruptly out from a shop doorway and stands before Ernie. Another pair of guards stands back in the shop, laughing.
“Huh. You’re a long way from home, little fellah,” says the guard, smiling.
“Yes. Yes I am,” says Ernie, putting on an extremely meek and compliant aspect.
“Hm. Where you visiting from?”
“Greenshire,” says Ernie.
“Never heard of it,” says the guard. “I assume you people have visiting papers, then.” (At this, the other guards chuckle conspicuously.)
“Of course!” says Ernie.
“Let’s see ‘em, then.”
Ernie starts making a show of rifling through his belongings. “Now, which sack did I put that in...?”
After about 30 seconds of this, Ernie looks up at the guard. “I can’t seem to find my papers, but I did find something shiny that seems to have fallen into my pack. Could it be yours?” (He pulls out a twenty-gold-piece piece of jade.) “Could you have dropped it?”
“Oh, yeah, that,” says the guard, smiling broadly. “Yeah, I did lose that. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome!” says Ernie cheerfully. “Always happy to help!”
“That’s all right,” says the guard. “I’m sure you’ll find your papers once you have time to look.”
“Yeah, I’m such a muddle-head,” says Ernie. “I can never remember where I put things.”
“Well, that’s probably typical for someone your size. Now, move along. Move along.”
Once they’re out of earshot, Ernie turns angrily to Yoba.
“Can I come back later and kick them in the shins? Please?”
“Only if I get to hold him while you do it,” says Yoba.
“Someone of my size? Humph!”
* *
Kendo is a jovial dwarf with a long white beard braided in a criss-cross pattern. He’s happy to exchange some “modern” currency for a handful of gems. Ernie takes the small sacks of coins and pulls a few of them out. They remind him of the strange old square coins the Company found beneath Gohgan’s basement, on their very first assignment for Abernathy.
“You know, I haven’t seen you before,” says Kendo to Kibi, as they watche Ernie peer at the coins. “You new in town?”
“Yeah, I am,” answers Kibi.
“Where you from?”
“Oh, up in the mountains aways. We’ve been looking for new veins of silver. But, hey, while I’m here, I was wondering: if I wanted to find someone, someone who lives around here, but I don’t know where he is, and I want to get in touch with them, who would I ask?”
“Not sure,” says Kendo. “Depends on who it was, I guess.”
“Do you know a dwarf named Cranchus?”
“No, not ringing a bell. What’s he do?”
Ernie pipes up at this point. “Excuse me, sir. Is it true that there are no dwarven wizards?”
“Dwarven wizards?” Kendo snorts. “Far as I know, there ain’t no dwarven wizard. And all that talk about the Mad Wizard’s just a lot of bunk.”
Ding!
“Mad Wizard?” asks Ernie.
“Oh, you know, the story about the crazy wizard. But I don’t remember how it goes.”
Kibi turns to Yoba and says, “My friend Yoba here loves stories!”
Yoba nods, taken by surprise. “Yes! Yes I do!”
“Well, if I knew any, I’d tell you, but I don’t. It’s just that you brought to mind a kid’s tale I heard when I was younger. But there isn’t actually a mad wizard.”
“That’s okay,” says Kibi. “It’s just that she’s a collector of stories, so we’d love to hear it.”
“Say, you looking for a place to stay?” asks Kendo. When Kibi nods, he continues. “Try the Silver Pick. Best place in town, and if you tell ‘em I sent you, they’ll kick me back some coin.”
* *
More human guards eye them suspiciously as they head back across town to the Silver Pick, but no one accosts them this time. The Pick is a spacious and clean place, filled with dwarves talking, eating, drinking, arm-wrestling and playing at dice. A dwarf in an apron, standing near the back, waves them to an empty table.
“Be right with you!”
Soon the four of them are drinking mugs of foamy dwarven ale, spiced differently than Kibi is used to but satisfying all the same. The innkeep finally makes it to their table, and the first thing he does is bow before the halflings.
“Always a pleasure,” he says. “Don’t see many halflings around here, but you’re welcome in the Pick. I’m Hamstock Derring, at your disposal.”
After another round of introductions, and some small talk about Kibi’s accent and business aspirations (“Oh, you live up in Moggin?”), they get down to business.
“My friends here, Yoba in particular, like to collect local stories.”
“Especially children’s stories,” adds Yoba.
“Do you know anyone who can tell us some good tales?” asks Kibi.
A big grin spreads across the face of Hamstock Derring.
“You’re talking to him!” he exclaims. “Hey, Segwick!”
“Yeah boss?” answers a dwarf behind the bar.
“Take over! I’ll be busy for a few minutes.”
Hamstock pulls up a chair at the table. Kibi takes a swig of ale.
“Kendo, the guy who sent us over here, said there was a story about a mad wizard in the mountains. Do you know that one?”
Hamstock laughs. “Kendo told you that story?”
“No, no, he didn’t know it,” says Kibi. “But I was wondering if you know how it goes?”
Hamstock makes a show of cracking the knuckles on his stubby fingers, smiles, and starts talking.
“Well, the story is – and there’s no truth to it, I’ll tell you that right off – is that there was a dwarf who fell into a pool of lava. ‘Course, everyone thought he was dead, until a week later he flew out of the pool, with magical power.”
“Wouldn’t he have died instantly when he fell in?” asks Kibi.
“I told you it wasn’t true. I’m just telling you how it goes. Anyhow, he comes out of the lava and can do all sorts of magic. He calls a town meeting, and says to the people, ‘Everyone, I’m going into the mountains, to find the source of the lava. I’m going to turn it into gold and send it back, now that I know the secret.’”
“So off he went, into the mountains, from right here in Stonehold. ‘I’ll be back in a year in a day, and I’ll have piles of gold,’ he said.”
“A year and a day passes, and they all look up, and there’s the biggest volcano you ever seen, and lava comes pouring down the mountain, and everyone’s thinkin’, looks like lava to us, and not gold. But right before it reached Stonehold, the river of lava parted, and spared the town. Didn’t burn a thing. But it hardened overnight, and the next day miners went out and chipped away at the solid lava, and underneath the outer layer of rock? Gold! Pure gold. And that, they say, is why we had so much gold here before...”
And here Hamstock looks around to make sure no one’s listening too closely.
“...before we had the sh*t taxed out of us. Anyway, no one ever saw the mad wizard again. They say he died in the volcano. But like I said, it’s a made-up story. For one thing, there’s no gold in these parts. And the reasons we had so much wealth from our mines were clever surveying and a lot of hard work, not some crazy wizard.”
“That’s a great story!” says Kibi. “Was there a specific mountain involved?”
“Naw,” says Hamstock, taking a swig from his own mug. “It’s not like there’s ever been an actual volcano that blew around here.”
“Did the wizard have a name?” asks Grey Wolf.
“Yeah,” says Hamstock, grinning. “My kid likes that story. The wizard’s name was ‘Crunchy.’
DING DING DING!
“Crunchy the Mad Wizard!” exclaims Kibi. “That’s great! Yoba, isn’t that great!”
“Yes, great,” Yoba agrees.
* *
It’s agreed then that the next stop is the mining town of Moggin, since there might be more detailed stories there of “Crunchy the Mad Wizard.” Kibi explains that there are some long-dormant volcanoes in this part of the mountains, but that none had erupted in living memory back in their own time.
After a good meal the recon group says farewell to Hamstock and the Silver Pick. Hamstock wishes them luck, along with some grumbling about the taxes he pays just to run the place.
“But what are we gonna do?” he asks, throwing up his hands. The ale has made him more bold in his complaints. “End up like the dwarves in Karth? Or the Tarathi? Wiped off the map? I don’t think so.”
“Tarathi?” asks Grey Wolf, intrigued.
“A bunch of elves. Not surprising things didn’t work out for them. But Karth... it’s a lesson everyone learns sooner or later. Defy the Emperor or his agents, and you’re not long for this world. But you didn’t hear that from me. Oh, and hey, tell the Mad Wizard I said hi. Heh heh heh. Hey Segwick, take 10!”
The group departs through the west gate (having come in from the north), so as not to arouse suspicion. As they walk out the gate, one human guard puts out a spear and tries to trip up Ernie. He fails, though Ernie doesn’t take the bait. Under his breath he mutters, “Man, the Spire is so going to kick your asses.”
Over the mind-link, Dranko chides him. “You do not know how to start a fight.”
“And you do,” sighs Ernie. “I know. Which is why we didn’t bring you. Look, they’re bullies, and you know how I feel about bullies., but this is not the time!”
The meet up with the rest of the Company outside of town. They try a sending to Cranchus, but get no answer. Still, they’re excited about having a lead to follow.
They wind walk up into the mountains, staying about a hundred feet off the ground and looking for signs of volcanic activity, as well as the town of Moggin. It only takes them half and hour at such fast speed, during which time they see not a single soul on the narrow rocky trail below. They do eventually spot a small mining outpost, not far from where the town of Eggemoggin will someday sit.
“Let’s land there,” says Dranko, starting to descend.
“Looking like we do?” asks Kibi.
“Sure. Screw it!” says Dranko.
“But you look like an orc!” Kibi points out.
“Ok, fine.”
Dranko changes into a human, and Snokas agrees to fly up high and wait for a hand signal when it’s time to leave.
The Company lands a mile down the road from the outpost and march on in. It’s a tiny place, consisting of six or seven tents and two permanent structures: an open-sided dining hall, and a tiny rickety general store called Lug’s Provisioners. The dining hall is empty, so they walk into the store en masse.
It’s a musty place with a creaky door. Mining equipment ranging from fairly new to old and battered sits on dusty shelves. A couple of old dwarves sit at a table in the rear of the store, looking suspiciously at Dranko and the human-looking members of the party.
“Aren’t you a traveling circus!” guffaws one of the dwarves.
One of the dwarves, a black-haired fellow with a triple-forked beard, sets down a dented metal tankard. .
“We are,” agrees Kibi with a smile and a wave.
“More than you know,” adds Aravis.
“We’ve paid taxes this month!” declares the dwarf.
“Oh, no. We’re not... we’re not here for that,” Kibi assures him.
“Good. Cause they’ve already got all my profit, and then some.”
“That’s awful!” says Aravis.
“They’d tax our beards if they could,” says the dwarf bitterly.
“We’ve got no love for tax men, believe me,” says Dranko.
“So, what can we do for you then?” asks the dwarf.
“Do have problems with orcs around here?” asks Kibi.
“Orcs? No,” says the dwarf. (Lug, they guess.)
“How come?” asks Dranko. “Don’t they live in the mountains around here?”
Lug snorts. “If they did, they probably fled ‘cause of all the monsters.”
“What monsters?” asks Dranko, intrigued.
“Oh, you know. You hear lots of stories about monsters livin’ in the mountains round here.”
“We’ve heard some great stories about what lives in the mountains!” says Ernie. “Some crazy wiz...”
“I met the monsters!” exclaims the oldest of the three dwarves. The other two roll their eyes.
“Really!” says Dranko. “What did they look like?”
“Oh, terrible they were. Big. Fat. Ugly. Mmmm, yes, ugly.”
“So far you’re describing bears,” says Dranko.
“No, no!” says the old dwarf. “Big, big people. Giant people!”
“With tusks?” asks Dranko.
“No. No tusks. I only got a fleetin’ glimpse and I ran. Think I’m crazy enough to stick around? I’m here talkin’ to you, ain’t I?”
Ernie describes ogres, and Dranko describes trolls, but the old dwarf shakes his head.
“The ones I saw had big clubs, but that was years ago.”
“Do they bother the miners?” asks Kibi.
“No. We don’t go that deep anymore, or in that direction. I got lost you see, and wandered into the wrong parts of the tunnels.”
“We heard a story about a crazy wizard who lives in the mountains,” says Kibi. “Do you think he had anything to do with the monsters?”
“Ah, the mad wizard!” The old dwarf cackles. “There’s no mad wizard. But, if you ask me, if there is a mad wizard, it’s probably his fault that there’s all them monsters!”
“Have the monsters always been there?” asks Kibi.
“Who knows? But I’ll tell you this. There used to be another outpost down the path aways, and they broke through into some underground cavern, and monsters came a ‘pourin’ out, and wiped out the whole place!”
“Just monsters? No lava or gold?” asks Dranko.
The old dwarf looks puzzled for a minute. “Lava or Gold? Lava or... oh, that. Ha!”
“I like that story!” says Ernie.
“It’s s stupid story,” says the old dwarf. “You ever seen any lava? Heck, you even seen any gold around here? Silver, iron, little bits of mithril if you get lucky. No gold around here, though.”
“So you’ve never heard of anyone with the mad wizard’s name? Crunchy?” prompts Dranko.
The dwarf laughs. “Yeah, I’ve heard it. You guys didn’t come all the way here for that piece of crap, did you?”
“No, we came here for other pieces of crap, too,” says Dranko.
“Well, I got a whole shop here full a crap, and most of it’s on sale. You buyin’? We got picks a plenty, hammers, hand-carts, boots, shovels... you name it, we got it.”
“Spikes,” says Dranko. “I need more spikes.”
“We got spikes.”
“If you tell us where the monsters are, we could go investigate and maybe get rid of them for you,” says Kibi.
“Well, sure, I’ll tell you what I remember,” says the old dwarf. “But I tell you, those big guys have a regular civilization down there. I saw some of the walls. The actually built stuff. Probably built the walls to keep out all the other even crazier monsters that’re down there. Craaaazy monsters, I tell ya!”
“Like what? Crazier than giants?” asks Kibi.
“Have you ever heard of any with gems for eyes?” adds Morningstar.
“No, I don’t think so, no gems. But I heard there are giant one-eyed bats down there. And I heard rumors... of Eeeeeeeevil air spirits...” Here he makes an exaggerated whooshing sound. “...like the ones that did what for Karth!”
“Air spirits? Here?” asks Kibi, feigning alarm.
“They’re everywhere!” exclaims the dwarf. Then, in a hushed voice: “I hear they’re on a mission to hunt down and kill every last dwarf in the country. So it stands to reason that they’re down there, right? And I heard that there’re things with tentacles, and things with claws...”
Lug spits on the dirt floor. “Hagglehock, shut up! You’re senile, your memory’s shot, and you ain’t seen no monsters. Why don’t you let my customers shop in peace?”
“I can heal that, you know,” says Dranko. “I’m a healer.”
“You keep back a me,” says Hagglehock. “I ain’t senile. I’m telling you, I’ve heard stories, and there ain’t no reason to doubt ‘em. Maybe the giants keep ‘em as pets. Or maybe your mad wizard has a whole menagerie of monsters down there, and he sends ‘em out to do his eeeeeevil bidding.”
Dranko buys ten spikes and a small hammer for a handful of silvers.
“Anything you need?” asks Dranko to Lug.
“Nothing I would say out loud,” says the dwarf.
“Yeah,” agrees Aravis. “We need that too.”
Dranko slaps Lug on the shoulder, and slips 10 gold pieces into his pocket. At their request Hagglehock draws them a map to where he remembers the monsters. Next to a crudely-drawn fissure he writes ‘I fell in here.’ He draws lines for tunnels. Aravis lends Hagglehock his headband of intellect while the dwarf draws, which adds clarity to the map and thus makes it almost usable. The only trouble is, there’s no indication of where the map actually starts, and Hagglehock cannot remember exactly where the landmarks are.
Kibi tries once more to sense any local Wild Magic, but there’s nothing. Has the Company finally reached a dead end in their search?
Not quite. They take a final wind walk jaunt down the road on which Hagglehock had said there used to be another outpost. And a few minutes later they see it, a small ruin on the spot where, in the future, the town of Marhold will be built. Dranko is the first to turn solid.
“Tasty half orc! Any monsters, come out and eat me!”
Morningstar casts detect thoughts but gets nothing, and Kibi still cannot detect even a whiff of Wild Magic. With nothing left to try, Aravis casts vision, naming the dwarf Cranchus as his subject.
All goes white. For a moment Aravis sees nothing but a featureless bright square, but then he sees lines and pictures appear as if drawn with an invisible quill. These images resolve into a copy of the map that Hagglehock had just drawn for them, but then they expand. Hagglehock hadn’t drawn it, but a road appears on the map, winding its way back down the mountains toward Stonehold.
The map fills his entire vision now, and in Stonehold a blue glowing spot appears. A gold ribbon then snakes away from the dot, retracing the road, rejoining the original map, and then going further into the mountains. Is the spell showing him the route Cranchus took, leaving Stonehold and journeying into the Kalkas Peaks?
The map tilts and stretches into a three-dimensional line-drawing, and Aravis watches as the golden ribbon flows into caverns and tunnels, turning this way and that in a meandering line. Then, abruptly, the ribbon is fragmented, splitting into dozens of pathways going in multiple directions. His head throbs as if something has reached out and put a sudden halt to his vision. The map fades slowly from his sight.
Aravis explains his vision to the others. Kibi’s heart races; Cranchus, the legendary Earth Mage, whom he is more sure than ever is his own grandfather, has trod the very stones beneath his feet. And now they follow his footsteps, to see where they lead.
“Ok!” shouts Dranko, patting Kibi on the back. “Let’s go dirt-diving!”
...to be continued...
Sagiro’s Story Hour, Part 265
The Legend of Crunchy
“This dragon sucked! It wouldn’t eat me! What’s up with that?”
Dranko complains even as pulls hard on a tooth, freeing it from the dragon’s huge maw. You can never have too many souvenirs.
“We should warn the halflings,” says Morningstar.
“Let’s hope they ignore the halflings and keep coming after us,” says Grey Wolf.
Dranko pries off a large yellow scale. “Kibi, that was the best use of a spell I’ve ever seen.”
Kibi puffs up with pride. “I am glad it turned out well,” he says, grinning. Dranko jumps off the dragon’s back and lands gracefully next to the dwarf.
“And for another thing,” says Dranko. “We’ve killed two of these dragons now, and I’ve got zero lairs. Zero! That’s where all the loot is. We should go find this one’s lair.”
The others quickly point out that that would likely take them closer to the Emperor, while doing nothing about getting back to their own time. Dranko sighs.
* *
According to Morningstar’s commune, the answer to returning home is on the island of Nahalm. And the best lead there is to find the dwarven wizard, Cranchus. It’s possible that he’s still alive, given the strange longevity of archmages, and the natural longer lifespan of dwarves. Cranchus is/was an Earth Mage, and as such might be able to do something to fix the Eyes of Moirel. That makes their logical next stop the Kalkas Peaks, and the dwarven city of Hae Kalkas.
It’s a long shot, but it’s all they have.
Worried about the Emperor’s ability to track them, they Company first wind walks an hour toward the (randomly chosen) town of West Nydem, after Dranko has stated out loud (for the sake of any nearby scrying sensors) that they’re headed to that location. Even so, Morningstar casts nondetection on Aravis, while Kibi does the same for Ernie. They skim low across the ground.
There’s no sign of pursuit during the trip, only the gentle waving of tall moonlit grass a few feet below them. Of course, there’s no town of West Nydem this far back in the past, and they see no other settlements en route, so they land at the edge of a small wood and camp under the trees, protected by a Mordenkainen’s private sanctum and an alarm spell.
Nothing accosts them overnight, and the next morning they spend an hour dining on a sumptuous heroes’ feast provided by Ernie. (In fact, this is now Standard Breakfasting Procedure whenever logistically possible.) They discuss ways of protecting themselves from detection, but Aravis is extremely pessimistic on that count. He feels the dragon-rider can find them no matter what they do, and while he might be slowed down by his lack of dragon, Aravis points out that he can clearly teleport or something like it. The dragon couldn’t have followed them so closely while they were wind walking across the water, after all.
Dranko casts an augury: Will casting nondetection on the whole party bring us weal or woe?
The answer: Better than nothing
“Delioch approves,” says Dranko. “He thinks it’s a great idea.”
Between casters and magic items, everyone is placed under nondetection, and they fly off toward where Hae Kalkas used to be. (Ernie tries find the path to “Cranchus’s bedroom,” but this produces no result. That could mean that a) the spell was foiled, or b) Cranchus doesn’t exist in this time, or c) that Cranchus exists but doesn’t have a bedoom.)
“Can you sense Wild Magic?” Morningstar asks Kibi. “That could tell us where Cranchus is, or at least his direction.”
“Well, yes, I can feel it around me,” says Kibi. “But I couldn’t sense Cranchus from this far away.”
“We should just go to Hae Kalkas and start asking around,” says Dranko.
“Won’t we get in trouble?” asks Morningstar. “Remember what happened last time we just showed up in town and started asking questions about an Archmage?” (She refers to their attempt to find Alykeen in Minok, way back in the early days of their adventuring careers.)
“He might not be an Archmage this far back in time,” says Dranko. Then something occurs to him, and he brightens. “Hey, and you know what? I know exactly how far in the past we are! How cool is that?”
“How do you know?” asks Flicker.
“I cast know age on the Wilburforce Statue, back in our own time. It’s 2661 years old.”
“Yikes,” says Flicker. “Doesn’t that mean Cranchus might not have even been born yet?”
* *
They reach the eastern end of the Kalkas Peaks, and below them they spot a dwarven town in about the place Hae Kalkas used to be. It’s much smaller than the city they know, and to Dranko’s disappointment there are no archmage-y looking towers poking up anywhere in sight. They land outside of town, where Morningstar tries casting find the path toward the biggest source of wild magic. She gets nothing.
“Let’s go talk to people!” exclaims Dranko.
“Grey Wolf,” says Bostock. “You should go. It will be an excellent opportunity to work on your diplomatic skills!”
Grey Wolf nods and volunteers. They can’t all go in while maintaining disguises, so a small group is sent. Yoba, Ernie and Kibi will go as they are, while Grey Wolf uses Dranko’s robe of blending to appear as a (still taller than average) dwarf. They are linked to the rest of the party with the usual telepathic bond, and the reconnoitering group heads on foot down the road. They pass a fork which heads up into the mountains, toward where Kibi’s home town of Eggemoggin used to be. (When Morningstar asks, Kibi explains that while his family has been in Eggemoggin for as far back as anyone can remember, there’s no way he’ll know anyone there now.)
They meet no one on the road, and soon approach the wall of what they’re still calling “Hae Kalkas.” The wall is more of a token boundary than a real fortification – 10’ high stone and barely wide enough for sentries. There are a couple of dwarves manning the northern gate and the walls above it, and also a pair of bored-looking humans. As they get closer, they see that the uniforms on the human soldiers are the same as that of the dragon-rider – the Sable Guard.
“The Emperor has a presence here,” comments Grey Wolf. “Damn.”
“Better to keep walking,” mutters Ernie nervously.
The humans guards have taken notice of them now, and are watching them closely. As the recon group reaches the gate, the dwarven guards snap to attention while the humans barely stir.
“Halt!” exclaims one of the human guards, getting slowly to his feet. “Names?”
“Ernest Roundhill.”
“Yoba Stoutheart.”
“Kibilhathur Bimson.”
“Axebreaker,” says Grey Wolf. “Nord Axebreaker.”
“Business?” asks the guard.
“We want to sell metals from my home village,” says Kibi.
“Here to sell goods,” says the human half to himself, writing in a small book. “Do you have any contracts with local guilds?”
“No,” says Kibi. “That’s why we’re here. We want to acquire contracts so we can do business here. We’re at the preliminary stages. We’ll need money to finance our mining operations.”
The soldier of the Sable Guard turns to his human fellow and they both chuckle, while the dwarves glower but say nothing.
“Do you expect to do a good business?” asks the human.
“I hope so, though it’s always dicey with an untapped vein,” says Kibi.
“Gems?”
“Actually, it’s a bit of silver.”
“If you’re going to do business in Stonehold, there a standard gate tax. 30 gold pieces will cover the lot of you.”
Oh. That’s a problem. No one bothered to pick up local currency in Greenshire, and it won’t do to present coins that won’t be minted for another couple of millennia. Kibi fishes in his pouch and hands over a ruby worth about 50 gold. The human looks skeptical, but passes it around to the dwarves for inspection. When the dwarves seem impressed with its value, the human pockets the gem.
“Ok, good enough. Move along then.”
Once through the gate, Yoba comments, “They didn’t ask for papers. That’s a good sign, right?”
As a first order of business, Kibi flags down a dwarf on the street.
“Excuse me. I don’t mean to bother you, but I’m looking for a place to sell some gems, to get a good value. Can you recommend me a place?”
“Sure!” says the dwarf. “It’s on the other side of town, but he’s good. Kendo’s his name.” The dwarf gives Kibi directions to a street of moneylenders and gem traders. As they walk through the streets of Stonehold on a quest for current currency, they see that the main town guard is all human, dressed in the same sable uniforms. Dwarves and humans alike look askance at the halflings, and also at Grey Wolf, whose height makes him the equivalent of a 6’10” human. It’s clear soon enough that the local dwarves try not to have anything to do with the humans if they can help it.
Speaking of which: a human guard steps abruptly out from a shop doorway and stands before Ernie. Another pair of guards stands back in the shop, laughing.
“Huh. You’re a long way from home, little fellah,” says the guard, smiling.
“Yes. Yes I am,” says Ernie, putting on an extremely meek and compliant aspect.
“Hm. Where you visiting from?”
“Greenshire,” says Ernie.
“Never heard of it,” says the guard. “I assume you people have visiting papers, then.” (At this, the other guards chuckle conspicuously.)
“Of course!” says Ernie.
“Let’s see ‘em, then.”
Ernie starts making a show of rifling through his belongings. “Now, which sack did I put that in...?”
After about 30 seconds of this, Ernie looks up at the guard. “I can’t seem to find my papers, but I did find something shiny that seems to have fallen into my pack. Could it be yours?” (He pulls out a twenty-gold-piece piece of jade.) “Could you have dropped it?”
“Oh, yeah, that,” says the guard, smiling broadly. “Yeah, I did lose that. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome!” says Ernie cheerfully. “Always happy to help!”
“That’s all right,” says the guard. “I’m sure you’ll find your papers once you have time to look.”
“Yeah, I’m such a muddle-head,” says Ernie. “I can never remember where I put things.”
“Well, that’s probably typical for someone your size. Now, move along. Move along.”
Once they’re out of earshot, Ernie turns angrily to Yoba.
“Can I come back later and kick them in the shins? Please?”
“Only if I get to hold him while you do it,” says Yoba.
“Someone of my size? Humph!”
* *
Kendo is a jovial dwarf with a long white beard braided in a criss-cross pattern. He’s happy to exchange some “modern” currency for a handful of gems. Ernie takes the small sacks of coins and pulls a few of them out. They remind him of the strange old square coins the Company found beneath Gohgan’s basement, on their very first assignment for Abernathy.
“You know, I haven’t seen you before,” says Kendo to Kibi, as they watche Ernie peer at the coins. “You new in town?”
“Yeah, I am,” answers Kibi.
“Where you from?”
“Oh, up in the mountains aways. We’ve been looking for new veins of silver. But, hey, while I’m here, I was wondering: if I wanted to find someone, someone who lives around here, but I don’t know where he is, and I want to get in touch with them, who would I ask?”
“Not sure,” says Kendo. “Depends on who it was, I guess.”
“Do you know a dwarf named Cranchus?”
“No, not ringing a bell. What’s he do?”
Ernie pipes up at this point. “Excuse me, sir. Is it true that there are no dwarven wizards?”
“Dwarven wizards?” Kendo snorts. “Far as I know, there ain’t no dwarven wizard. And all that talk about the Mad Wizard’s just a lot of bunk.”
Ding!
“Mad Wizard?” asks Ernie.
“Oh, you know, the story about the crazy wizard. But I don’t remember how it goes.”
Kibi turns to Yoba and says, “My friend Yoba here loves stories!”
Yoba nods, taken by surprise. “Yes! Yes I do!”
“Well, if I knew any, I’d tell you, but I don’t. It’s just that you brought to mind a kid’s tale I heard when I was younger. But there isn’t actually a mad wizard.”
“That’s okay,” says Kibi. “It’s just that she’s a collector of stories, so we’d love to hear it.”
“Say, you looking for a place to stay?” asks Kendo. When Kibi nods, he continues. “Try the Silver Pick. Best place in town, and if you tell ‘em I sent you, they’ll kick me back some coin.”
* *
More human guards eye them suspiciously as they head back across town to the Silver Pick, but no one accosts them this time. The Pick is a spacious and clean place, filled with dwarves talking, eating, drinking, arm-wrestling and playing at dice. A dwarf in an apron, standing near the back, waves them to an empty table.
“Be right with you!”
Soon the four of them are drinking mugs of foamy dwarven ale, spiced differently than Kibi is used to but satisfying all the same. The innkeep finally makes it to their table, and the first thing he does is bow before the halflings.
“Always a pleasure,” he says. “Don’t see many halflings around here, but you’re welcome in the Pick. I’m Hamstock Derring, at your disposal.”
After another round of introductions, and some small talk about Kibi’s accent and business aspirations (“Oh, you live up in Moggin?”), they get down to business.
“My friends here, Yoba in particular, like to collect local stories.”
“Especially children’s stories,” adds Yoba.
“Do you know anyone who can tell us some good tales?” asks Kibi.
A big grin spreads across the face of Hamstock Derring.
“You’re talking to him!” he exclaims. “Hey, Segwick!”
“Yeah boss?” answers a dwarf behind the bar.
“Take over! I’ll be busy for a few minutes.”
Hamstock pulls up a chair at the table. Kibi takes a swig of ale.
“Kendo, the guy who sent us over here, said there was a story about a mad wizard in the mountains. Do you know that one?”
Hamstock laughs. “Kendo told you that story?”
“No, no, he didn’t know it,” says Kibi. “But I was wondering if you know how it goes?”
Hamstock makes a show of cracking the knuckles on his stubby fingers, smiles, and starts talking.
“Well, the story is – and there’s no truth to it, I’ll tell you that right off – is that there was a dwarf who fell into a pool of lava. ‘Course, everyone thought he was dead, until a week later he flew out of the pool, with magical power.”
“Wouldn’t he have died instantly when he fell in?” asks Kibi.
“I told you it wasn’t true. I’m just telling you how it goes. Anyhow, he comes out of the lava and can do all sorts of magic. He calls a town meeting, and says to the people, ‘Everyone, I’m going into the mountains, to find the source of the lava. I’m going to turn it into gold and send it back, now that I know the secret.’”
“So off he went, into the mountains, from right here in Stonehold. ‘I’ll be back in a year in a day, and I’ll have piles of gold,’ he said.”
“A year and a day passes, and they all look up, and there’s the biggest volcano you ever seen, and lava comes pouring down the mountain, and everyone’s thinkin’, looks like lava to us, and not gold. But right before it reached Stonehold, the river of lava parted, and spared the town. Didn’t burn a thing. But it hardened overnight, and the next day miners went out and chipped away at the solid lava, and underneath the outer layer of rock? Gold! Pure gold. And that, they say, is why we had so much gold here before...”
And here Hamstock looks around to make sure no one’s listening too closely.
“...before we had the sh*t taxed out of us. Anyway, no one ever saw the mad wizard again. They say he died in the volcano. But like I said, it’s a made-up story. For one thing, there’s no gold in these parts. And the reasons we had so much wealth from our mines were clever surveying and a lot of hard work, not some crazy wizard.”
“That’s a great story!” says Kibi. “Was there a specific mountain involved?”
“Naw,” says Hamstock, taking a swig from his own mug. “It’s not like there’s ever been an actual volcano that blew around here.”
“Did the wizard have a name?” asks Grey Wolf.
“Yeah,” says Hamstock, grinning. “My kid likes that story. The wizard’s name was ‘Crunchy.’
DING DING DING!
“Crunchy the Mad Wizard!” exclaims Kibi. “That’s great! Yoba, isn’t that great!”
“Yes, great,” Yoba agrees.
* *
It’s agreed then that the next stop is the mining town of Moggin, since there might be more detailed stories there of “Crunchy the Mad Wizard.” Kibi explains that there are some long-dormant volcanoes in this part of the mountains, but that none had erupted in living memory back in their own time.
After a good meal the recon group says farewell to Hamstock and the Silver Pick. Hamstock wishes them luck, along with some grumbling about the taxes he pays just to run the place.
“But what are we gonna do?” he asks, throwing up his hands. The ale has made him more bold in his complaints. “End up like the dwarves in Karth? Or the Tarathi? Wiped off the map? I don’t think so.”
“Tarathi?” asks Grey Wolf, intrigued.
“A bunch of elves. Not surprising things didn’t work out for them. But Karth... it’s a lesson everyone learns sooner or later. Defy the Emperor or his agents, and you’re not long for this world. But you didn’t hear that from me. Oh, and hey, tell the Mad Wizard I said hi. Heh heh heh. Hey Segwick, take 10!”
The group departs through the west gate (having come in from the north), so as not to arouse suspicion. As they walk out the gate, one human guard puts out a spear and tries to trip up Ernie. He fails, though Ernie doesn’t take the bait. Under his breath he mutters, “Man, the Spire is so going to kick your asses.”
Over the mind-link, Dranko chides him. “You do not know how to start a fight.”
“And you do,” sighs Ernie. “I know. Which is why we didn’t bring you. Look, they’re bullies, and you know how I feel about bullies., but this is not the time!”
The meet up with the rest of the Company outside of town. They try a sending to Cranchus, but get no answer. Still, they’re excited about having a lead to follow.
They wind walk up into the mountains, staying about a hundred feet off the ground and looking for signs of volcanic activity, as well as the town of Moggin. It only takes them half and hour at such fast speed, during which time they see not a single soul on the narrow rocky trail below. They do eventually spot a small mining outpost, not far from where the town of Eggemoggin will someday sit.
“Let’s land there,” says Dranko, starting to descend.
“Looking like we do?” asks Kibi.
“Sure. Screw it!” says Dranko.
“But you look like an orc!” Kibi points out.
“Ok, fine.”
Dranko changes into a human, and Snokas agrees to fly up high and wait for a hand signal when it’s time to leave.
The Company lands a mile down the road from the outpost and march on in. It’s a tiny place, consisting of six or seven tents and two permanent structures: an open-sided dining hall, and a tiny rickety general store called Lug’s Provisioners. The dining hall is empty, so they walk into the store en masse.
It’s a musty place with a creaky door. Mining equipment ranging from fairly new to old and battered sits on dusty shelves. A couple of old dwarves sit at a table in the rear of the store, looking suspiciously at Dranko and the human-looking members of the party.
“Aren’t you a traveling circus!” guffaws one of the dwarves.
One of the dwarves, a black-haired fellow with a triple-forked beard, sets down a dented metal tankard. .
“We are,” agrees Kibi with a smile and a wave.
“More than you know,” adds Aravis.
“We’ve paid taxes this month!” declares the dwarf.
“Oh, no. We’re not... we’re not here for that,” Kibi assures him.
“Good. Cause they’ve already got all my profit, and then some.”
“That’s awful!” says Aravis.
“They’d tax our beards if they could,” says the dwarf bitterly.
“We’ve got no love for tax men, believe me,” says Dranko.
“So, what can we do for you then?” asks the dwarf.
“Do have problems with orcs around here?” asks Kibi.
“Orcs? No,” says the dwarf. (Lug, they guess.)
“How come?” asks Dranko. “Don’t they live in the mountains around here?”
Lug snorts. “If they did, they probably fled ‘cause of all the monsters.”
“What monsters?” asks Dranko, intrigued.
“Oh, you know. You hear lots of stories about monsters livin’ in the mountains round here.”
“We’ve heard some great stories about what lives in the mountains!” says Ernie. “Some crazy wiz...”
“I met the monsters!” exclaims the oldest of the three dwarves. The other two roll their eyes.
“Really!” says Dranko. “What did they look like?”
“Oh, terrible they were. Big. Fat. Ugly. Mmmm, yes, ugly.”
“So far you’re describing bears,” says Dranko.
“No, no!” says the old dwarf. “Big, big people. Giant people!”
“With tusks?” asks Dranko.
“No. No tusks. I only got a fleetin’ glimpse and I ran. Think I’m crazy enough to stick around? I’m here talkin’ to you, ain’t I?”
Ernie describes ogres, and Dranko describes trolls, but the old dwarf shakes his head.
“The ones I saw had big clubs, but that was years ago.”
“Do they bother the miners?” asks Kibi.
“No. We don’t go that deep anymore, or in that direction. I got lost you see, and wandered into the wrong parts of the tunnels.”
“We heard a story about a crazy wizard who lives in the mountains,” says Kibi. “Do you think he had anything to do with the monsters?”
“Ah, the mad wizard!” The old dwarf cackles. “There’s no mad wizard. But, if you ask me, if there is a mad wizard, it’s probably his fault that there’s all them monsters!”
“Have the monsters always been there?” asks Kibi.
“Who knows? But I’ll tell you this. There used to be another outpost down the path aways, and they broke through into some underground cavern, and monsters came a ‘pourin’ out, and wiped out the whole place!”
“Just monsters? No lava or gold?” asks Dranko.
The old dwarf looks puzzled for a minute. “Lava or Gold? Lava or... oh, that. Ha!”
“I like that story!” says Ernie.
“It’s s stupid story,” says the old dwarf. “You ever seen any lava? Heck, you even seen any gold around here? Silver, iron, little bits of mithril if you get lucky. No gold around here, though.”
“So you’ve never heard of anyone with the mad wizard’s name? Crunchy?” prompts Dranko.
The dwarf laughs. “Yeah, I’ve heard it. You guys didn’t come all the way here for that piece of crap, did you?”
“No, we came here for other pieces of crap, too,” says Dranko.
“Well, I got a whole shop here full a crap, and most of it’s on sale. You buyin’? We got picks a plenty, hammers, hand-carts, boots, shovels... you name it, we got it.”
“Spikes,” says Dranko. “I need more spikes.”
“We got spikes.”
“If you tell us where the monsters are, we could go investigate and maybe get rid of them for you,” says Kibi.
“Well, sure, I’ll tell you what I remember,” says the old dwarf. “But I tell you, those big guys have a regular civilization down there. I saw some of the walls. The actually built stuff. Probably built the walls to keep out all the other even crazier monsters that’re down there. Craaaazy monsters, I tell ya!”
“Like what? Crazier than giants?” asks Kibi.
“Have you ever heard of any with gems for eyes?” adds Morningstar.
“No, I don’t think so, no gems. But I heard there are giant one-eyed bats down there. And I heard rumors... of Eeeeeeeevil air spirits...” Here he makes an exaggerated whooshing sound. “...like the ones that did what for Karth!”
“Air spirits? Here?” asks Kibi, feigning alarm.
“They’re everywhere!” exclaims the dwarf. Then, in a hushed voice: “I hear they’re on a mission to hunt down and kill every last dwarf in the country. So it stands to reason that they’re down there, right? And I heard that there’re things with tentacles, and things with claws...”
Lug spits on the dirt floor. “Hagglehock, shut up! You’re senile, your memory’s shot, and you ain’t seen no monsters. Why don’t you let my customers shop in peace?”
“I can heal that, you know,” says Dranko. “I’m a healer.”
“You keep back a me,” says Hagglehock. “I ain’t senile. I’m telling you, I’ve heard stories, and there ain’t no reason to doubt ‘em. Maybe the giants keep ‘em as pets. Or maybe your mad wizard has a whole menagerie of monsters down there, and he sends ‘em out to do his eeeeeevil bidding.”
Dranko buys ten spikes and a small hammer for a handful of silvers.
“Anything you need?” asks Dranko to Lug.
“Nothing I would say out loud,” says the dwarf.
“Yeah,” agrees Aravis. “We need that too.”
Dranko slaps Lug on the shoulder, and slips 10 gold pieces into his pocket. At their request Hagglehock draws them a map to where he remembers the monsters. Next to a crudely-drawn fissure he writes ‘I fell in here.’ He draws lines for tunnels. Aravis lends Hagglehock his headband of intellect while the dwarf draws, which adds clarity to the map and thus makes it almost usable. The only trouble is, there’s no indication of where the map actually starts, and Hagglehock cannot remember exactly where the landmarks are.
Kibi tries once more to sense any local Wild Magic, but there’s nothing. Has the Company finally reached a dead end in their search?
Not quite. They take a final wind walk jaunt down the road on which Hagglehock had said there used to be another outpost. And a few minutes later they see it, a small ruin on the spot where, in the future, the town of Marhold will be built. Dranko is the first to turn solid.
“Tasty half orc! Any monsters, come out and eat me!”
Morningstar casts detect thoughts but gets nothing, and Kibi still cannot detect even a whiff of Wild Magic. With nothing left to try, Aravis casts vision, naming the dwarf Cranchus as his subject.
All goes white. For a moment Aravis sees nothing but a featureless bright square, but then he sees lines and pictures appear as if drawn with an invisible quill. These images resolve into a copy of the map that Hagglehock had just drawn for them, but then they expand. Hagglehock hadn’t drawn it, but a road appears on the map, winding its way back down the mountains toward Stonehold.
The map fills his entire vision now, and in Stonehold a blue glowing spot appears. A gold ribbon then snakes away from the dot, retracing the road, rejoining the original map, and then going further into the mountains. Is the spell showing him the route Cranchus took, leaving Stonehold and journeying into the Kalkas Peaks?
The map tilts and stretches into a three-dimensional line-drawing, and Aravis watches as the golden ribbon flows into caverns and tunnels, turning this way and that in a meandering line. Then, abruptly, the ribbon is fragmented, splitting into dozens of pathways going in multiple directions. His head throbs as if something has reached out and put a sudden halt to his vision. The map fades slowly from his sight.
Aravis explains his vision to the others. Kibi’s heart races; Cranchus, the legendary Earth Mage, whom he is more sure than ever is his own grandfather, has trod the very stones beneath his feet. And now they follow his footsteps, to see where they lead.
“Ok!” shouts Dranko, patting Kibi on the back. “Let’s go dirt-diving!”
...to be continued...
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Solarious
Explorer
I recall differently: after they had problems with them being too far away from the Blue eye, they used a Wish from the Luck Blade they had to expell all the black goo from them. Which is good, since the Eyes are all broken right now. 
And this update proves once more: Bribery for the win!![:]](http://www.enworld.org/forum/images/smilies/devious.png "Devious :]")
And this update proves once more: Bribery for the win!
Solarious said:I recall differently: after they had problems with them being too far away from the Blue eye, they used a Wish from the Luck Blade they had to expell all the black goo from them. Which is good, since the Eyes are all broken right now.
Yeah, that's correct. Not sure what I was thinking of...
Sagiro
Rodent of Uncertain Parentage
Regadring the Evil Black Liquid:
It is true that, by use of a wish, black goo was physically expelled from Ernie and Aravis. It is also true that since then, the two of them have not been evil, have not felt any desire to do evil, and furthermore have maintined that state of non-evilness without any outside help (like they were getting from the Blue Eye there for a while).
On the other hand, even after the wish, the Emperor and/or his lackey was still able to locate Ernie and Aravis by "smell." So, make of that what you will.
Regarding character level:
At the time of this last update, I think the highest level characters were 15th level, and the range was 13th to 15th. Right now, 17 runs and 14 months ahead of the story hour, the highest-level characters have recently hit 17th level, and thus have 9th level spells.
Speaking of which, Morningstar is likely to try one of them out next game. The bad news is: after the horrific events of last game, said spell is true resurrection.
-Sagiro
It is true that, by use of a wish, black goo was physically expelled from Ernie and Aravis. It is also true that since then, the two of them have not been evil, have not felt any desire to do evil, and furthermore have maintined that state of non-evilness without any outside help (like they were getting from the Blue Eye there for a while).
On the other hand, even after the wish, the Emperor and/or his lackey was still able to locate Ernie and Aravis by "smell." So, make of that what you will.
Regarding character level:
At the time of this last update, I think the highest level characters were 15th level, and the range was 13th to 15th. Right now, 17 runs and 14 months ahead of the story hour, the highest-level characters have recently hit 17th level, and thus have 9th level spells.
Speaking of which, Morningstar is likely to try one of them out next game. The bad news is: after the horrific events of last game, said spell is true resurrection.
-Sagiro
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