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Sagiro's Story Hour Returns (new thread started on 5/18/08)
- Thread starter Sagiro
- Start date
thatdarncat
Overlord of Chat
Wow.
Thank you
Something to distract me from my interview in the morning. Awesome.
Thank you
Something to distract me from my interview in the morning. Awesome.
Sagiro
Rodent of Uncertain Parentage
Sagiro’s Story Hour, Part 275
Of Historical Significance
Snow is starting to soak into their clothes, and none of them care. The air is fresh and clean, the sky is a blinding blue, and the sun shines down upon a world restored.
Ernie makes a snow angel.
The Eyes of Moirel have shattered during their final journey, their powdery remains mixed irretrievably with the fluffy snow. Ernie’s belt of stability has turned a brittle gray, its power and magic consumed.
All in the Company are eager to return home, but after so many magical journeys made under the weight of so much responsibility, they decide to walk back to Tal Hae. It’s maybe eighty miles from the Mirrors of Semek to Tal Hae, and they can stop off at Dingman’s Ferry on the way. Ernie is eager to introduce Yoba to his parents.
Morningstar issues an apprehensive sending to Eddings before they set out; is he alive? Does he exist? What does he remember?
Eddings, it’s Morningstar. We’re back... we think! Are you okay?”
The answer comes back almost immediately:
You’re alive! You exist! I’m so pleased to hear from you! We thought that one of your many enemies had finally found a way to...
Aravis frowns. “Wasn’t he in the house with us when the world changed?”
“Yeah,” says Dranko. “So maybe our Eddings is caught in a temporal loop, and this is a different Eddings. I wonder if he remembers being in another world., and how long we’ve been gone. It was October when the world changed.”
As they tromp across the snow-laden countryside, the party talks about what may have happened during their absence. Dranko worries that Turlus may have found a way to take over the Greenhouse. Of greater concern (to him) is that there will be no heroes’ welcome for the party, since no one will realize there had been any danger. He comforts himself by looking forward to a reckoning with King Farazil.
“When we see him, I’m all for threatening him with banishment after which we’ll follow him to the plane of shadow to kill him once and for all.”
“I don’t understand why we’d give him any warning,” says Grey Wolf.
They sleep that night in a secure shelter. Morningstar sends to Eddings again.
We are okay. Long story. Sharshun plot. How long were we gone? How are Sagiro and Carp? We will be home in a few days.
Eddings replies: You’ve been gone for seven weeks. Spire had determined you didn’t exist. Haven’t seen Sagiro recently. Who’s Carp?
“I think that means the Greenhouse didn’t come back from the past,” says Dranko. “It just reintegrated into the current time line.”
At Ernie’s urging, Morningstar casts one more sending, this one to Sagiro. There is no reply.
* *
In the morning Morningstar casts commune. Though her questions are few, there is only one that she needs answered.
“Is Ell okay?”
YES. THANK YOU.
“Do you know where we’ve been?”
YES.
That’s really all she wants to know, but she asks one more question for Ernie’s sake.
“If Yoba stays here, will it have an adverse effect on her and her people?”
YES
“Thank you so much.”
YOU’VE HAD A LONG JOURNEY. WELCOME BACK.
She shares the news with Ernie. “I’m sorry, Ernest.”
But Yoba and Ernie aren’t surprised. In her own land Yoba is a key military strategist in an ongoing campaign – it’s inevitable that her own folk will be better off when she returns.
“I ought to find someone to plane shift me back,” she says.
“I’ll do it,” says Ernie.
Yoba’s face brightens. “Then you’ll be coming with me, at least for a little while. I can show you Evergreen!”
“I’d like that very much!” says Ernie.
Dranko clears his throat. “If the two of you don’t get married, I’m going to beat the snot out of you both.”
Yoba starts to protest, but Dranko cuts her off.
“I am well aware that you have a cause, and that Ernest has one here as well, but if you let a small matter of inter-planar borders hold the two of you apart, I’m going to be really disappointed.
“But...” says Ernie.
”And that’s my piece!” roars Dranko, who immediately turns and walks away.
“He cares a lot about you, doesn’t he?” says Yoba, smiling. “Ernie, I have to go back, but he’s essentially right. We can see each other from time to time – and talk via sendings -- until one of our situations changes.”
There are many ways to say ‘I love you’ in twenty-five words or less.
* *
It’s a warmer day than yesterday, making the snow slick and exposing swathes of mud. Grey Wolf summons up horses for all the Company to ride. They make sparse and idle conversation throughout the day, preferring to quietly enjoy the return to normalcy. But as the sun starts to set, Ernie beings to recognize landmarks at the outskirts of Dingman’s Ferry. He starts to babble excitedly to Yoba.
“That’s the fence we would follow when the snows were heavy... we could follow it from the farthest orchard into the center of town following the bits of the posts sticking up. And there’s the Longfield’s farm, where we used to play tag in his cornfields until he’d come out waving his pitchfork.”
Dranko laughs. “And that’s the tree I fell asleep under listening to Ernie’s boring lectures about his homeland.”
Soon they arrive at the doorstep of Ernie’s childhood home. His mother, Rowan Roundhill, opens the door.
“Ernest!” she exclaims happily.
“Hi Mom! I was in the neighborhood, so I thought I’d stop by.”
“You know you’re always welcome, you and your friends. I know everyone here I think...”
She looks up at the faces of the assembled heroes, but stops when her eyes settle on Yoba.
“I’d like you to meet Yoba Stoutheart,” says Ernie, unable to mitigate his grin in the slightest. “She’s a paladin. We met her on our recent travels.”
Behind Ernie’s mom, his dad Hob is looking back and forth between Yoba and Ernie, a look of incredulous approval on his face. It’s clear what he’s thinking: Ernie’s ship has finally come in.
“Come in everyone!” says Rowan, getting hold of herself. “You must be hungry!”
The non-halflings have to duck to get through the door, and crouch a bit inside, but soon all are seated and enjoying an incredible feast. It seems that ever since Rowan learned that her son was part of an itinerant adventuring group, she made sure to always keep an extra store of food in the cupboards and pantries for just this sort of occasion.
They talk some about their adventure, but Ernie is highly reluctant to explain the details, believing that his parents won’t understand the ins and outs of time travel and alternate histories. He nudges the conversation toward lighter topics, like Dranko and Morningstar having gotten married while they were on the road. Rowan and Hob, on more familiar ground, press for details.
“We’ve both changed our last name to “Brightshield,” says Dranko, beaming at his wife. “Which reminds me: we should change the name of Castle Blackhope to Castle Brightshield.”
“You mean Longtooth Keep?” asks Flicker.
“Yeah. Castle Blackhope. That’s the one,” answers Dranko. “And if someone has taken it over, we can wait for them to fix it up and then take it back. By force, if necessary. It’ll be cheaper than fixing it up ourselves.”
“Isn’t siege warfare expensive?” asks Flicker.
“Not the way these two do it!” says Dranko, gesturing to Aravis and Grey Wolf.
“But they way they do it,” says Flicker, “you’ll just have to fix it all over again!”
* *
As they finish up dessert – home-baked pies cooked by Rowan – Dranko asks idly about the Wilburforce Statue.
“They finished excavating it,” says Rowan. “They want to start a museum, since it’s clearly of historic import. But the problem is, they can’t find anything else to put in it.”
She chuckles before continuing. “Don’t tell anyone I said this, but I won’t be sad to see the museum fail. You remember Murgy Thorn? Technically the statue was on his property, so he owns it, and the museum is his idea. He’s not as unpleasant as he used to be, but he’s still a schemer. I don’t like that he owns a statue that’s clearly of someone from our family.”
Dranko rubs his hands together. “Come on, gang. Let’s take a little trip over to Murgy’s tavern.” Only Yoba and Ernie stay behind, happy to stay and chat with the parents.
It’s not a long walk. Most of the Company sit at a long table and start drinking, but Dranko, having used his robe of blending to make himself look somewhat impoverished, stands at the door. Grey Wolf and Aravis stand behind him, as intimidating a pair of bodyguards as one could ever fear to meet.
Eventually an officious halfling comes bustling over.
“I am looking for Murgy Thorn,” says Dranko.
“Who, may I ask, is calling for him?” asks the halfling.
“I am Sir Dranko.”
“Does he know you?”
“Indeed he does.”
The halfling disappears into a back room, then returns a minute later.
“Mr. Thorn is indisposed. Can you come back tomorrow?”
“No,” says Dranko.
“We have to speak with him now!” barks Aravis.
The halfling looks up into human eyes reflecting endless stars.
“Oh. That’s different. One moment!” The halfling again dashes off.
Dranko chuckles as he listens to the raised voices coming from the back room. Soon enough Murgy Thorn emerges, the same cantankerous, middle-aged halfling they remember.
“Been a long time, Murgy,” says Dranko.
“Yes, yes it has,” says Murgy, casting a nervous glance at Grey Wolf and Aravis.
“I think you’ll want to have this conversation in private,” Dranko suggests.
“Er... I think it’s better out here,” says Murgy. “You know... lots of people, no one would try anything...”
“If you don’t mind everyone hearing your business, sure!” says Dranko.
“These people know my business,” says Murgy, gaining some confidence. “I’m a respectable man of the town, and I have nothing to hide.”
“Fine,” says Dranko. “I understand you plan to start a museum, based around the statue that you have in your basement.”
“Have you come to make any donations or investments?” asks Murgy.
“In a sense. The way I see it, you seem like a fellow more interested in a good profit and comfortable living, than necessarily in showcasing the culture of your people. Is that a fair statement?”
Murgy thinks for a moment.
“No. I want to do both.”
“I have learned a little bit about museums in my travels,” continues Dranko. “They almost never make any money, and they take great time and expense to build. I wish to offer you an alternative. Instead of you going into debt, I wish to give you a flat amount of money right now, for the statue. Instead of a centerpiece for your museum, you will have a large amount of cash.”
Murgy blinks. “You’re right,” he says. “We should be having this conversation in private. Let’s discuss terms.”
Once they’re seated in the back room, Dranko keeps on with his pitch.
“You will notice that, despite the fact that we are Knights of the Realm, and own a keep and several mansions given us by the king, we have no intention of simply seizing the statue.”
“Oh, I know you wouldn’t do that,” says Murgy. “You’re friends of Ernest Roundhill. He wouldn’t have made friends with those who would steal.”
To their great credit, neither Grey Wolf nor Aravis actually laugh out loud at this.
“What do you think is a fair price for the statue?” asks Dranko.
“Well,” says Murgy, “you understand its age has been estimated at hundreds of years old. It is an exquisite piece of stonework, the likes of which cannot be found for miles around. It bears an uncanny resemblance to the greatest hero of our city, the aforementioned Ernest Roundhill. I would say it’s extraordinarily valuable.”
He thinks for a moment, and what he’s clearly thinking is: how high can I go without being preposterous?
“I would think... I would think a thousand pieces of gold. If I were to commission it today, it would cost nearly that much, even not regarding its historical value.”
Dranko smiles indulgently. “I was thinking of more like that number with a zero removed.”
“A hundred gold!” exclaims Murgy. “Surely you must be joking. For a hundred gold pieces I couldn’t even attain a cheap version of the statue....”
The haggling begins, and ends a few minutes later with Murgy accepting an offer of 500 gold pieces, and an agreement that his own name will appear on a plaque to be set on its base. It’s a princely sum for Murgy, and he’s obviously pleased with himself. Dranko pulls out a sack of coins and counts out the gold and platinum right there on Murgy’s desk. The halfling’s jaw drops at the thought of anyone carrying that much cash around with them. He hands over a signed deed of ownership.
* *
The following morning brings the discovery that the restoration of the proper timeline has come with one poor side-effect. The itchy rash that had been intermittently plaguing most of the Company has returned for Morningstar and Aravis. Yoba uses her powers to eradicate the symptoms, but from experience they expect it will return tomorrow.
“I guess we still have rabid crazy dragon-itis,” Morningstar sighs.
“Hey Ernie,” says Dranko. “I think there’s something you should see in the town square.”
Ernie looks apprehensive, but Dranko reveals nothing more. They walk through town until they reach the center of Dingman’s Ferry.
The Wilburforce Statue, at Dranko’s request, is already being set onto a base. Eight industrious halflings are working on the construction and even laying a small garden around it.
“What did you do?" shouts Ernie. “And when will Murgy be able to walk again?”
Dranko just smiles.
“The benches were my idea,” says Morningstar, grinning at Ernie’s slack-jawed stare.
Yoba leans in to whisper in Ernie’s ear. “Are you going to tell anyone it’s not actually you?”
When Ernie doesn’t answer, Yoba adds: “I won’t tell until you do.”
“Hey Kibi,” says Dranko. “Remember how you carved something on the bottom of the foot of the statue back in the past? You should see if it’s still there!”
Kibi xorn moves into the ground, and pops up a moment later.
“The inscription is still there, just like I wrote it!” he says happily.
“That’s so neat! exclaims Dranko.
Kibi smirks. “You don’t know what I wrote.”
Dranko pales. “Kibi, I trust that you would never do anything to cast one of your friends in an unfavorable light.”
“Just like Ernie would never have a friend who steals?” asks Kibi, eyebrows raised.
“Ah, crap,” says Dranko.
...to be continued...
Of Historical Significance
Snow is starting to soak into their clothes, and none of them care. The air is fresh and clean, the sky is a blinding blue, and the sun shines down upon a world restored.
Ernie makes a snow angel.
The Eyes of Moirel have shattered during their final journey, their powdery remains mixed irretrievably with the fluffy snow. Ernie’s belt of stability has turned a brittle gray, its power and magic consumed.
All in the Company are eager to return home, but after so many magical journeys made under the weight of so much responsibility, they decide to walk back to Tal Hae. It’s maybe eighty miles from the Mirrors of Semek to Tal Hae, and they can stop off at Dingman’s Ferry on the way. Ernie is eager to introduce Yoba to his parents.
Morningstar issues an apprehensive sending to Eddings before they set out; is he alive? Does he exist? What does he remember?
Eddings, it’s Morningstar. We’re back... we think! Are you okay?”
The answer comes back almost immediately:
You’re alive! You exist! I’m so pleased to hear from you! We thought that one of your many enemies had finally found a way to...
Aravis frowns. “Wasn’t he in the house with us when the world changed?”
“Yeah,” says Dranko. “So maybe our Eddings is caught in a temporal loop, and this is a different Eddings. I wonder if he remembers being in another world., and how long we’ve been gone. It was October when the world changed.”
As they tromp across the snow-laden countryside, the party talks about what may have happened during their absence. Dranko worries that Turlus may have found a way to take over the Greenhouse. Of greater concern (to him) is that there will be no heroes’ welcome for the party, since no one will realize there had been any danger. He comforts himself by looking forward to a reckoning with King Farazil.
“When we see him, I’m all for threatening him with banishment after which we’ll follow him to the plane of shadow to kill him once and for all.”
“I don’t understand why we’d give him any warning,” says Grey Wolf.
They sleep that night in a secure shelter. Morningstar sends to Eddings again.
We are okay. Long story. Sharshun plot. How long were we gone? How are Sagiro and Carp? We will be home in a few days.
Eddings replies: You’ve been gone for seven weeks. Spire had determined you didn’t exist. Haven’t seen Sagiro recently. Who’s Carp?
“I think that means the Greenhouse didn’t come back from the past,” says Dranko. “It just reintegrated into the current time line.”
At Ernie’s urging, Morningstar casts one more sending, this one to Sagiro. There is no reply.
* *
In the morning Morningstar casts commune. Though her questions are few, there is only one that she needs answered.
“Is Ell okay?”
YES. THANK YOU.
“Do you know where we’ve been?”
YES.
That’s really all she wants to know, but she asks one more question for Ernie’s sake.
“If Yoba stays here, will it have an adverse effect on her and her people?”
YES
“Thank you so much.”
YOU’VE HAD A LONG JOURNEY. WELCOME BACK.
She shares the news with Ernie. “I’m sorry, Ernest.”
But Yoba and Ernie aren’t surprised. In her own land Yoba is a key military strategist in an ongoing campaign – it’s inevitable that her own folk will be better off when she returns.
“I ought to find someone to plane shift me back,” she says.
“I’ll do it,” says Ernie.
Yoba’s face brightens. “Then you’ll be coming with me, at least for a little while. I can show you Evergreen!”
“I’d like that very much!” says Ernie.
Dranko clears his throat. “If the two of you don’t get married, I’m going to beat the snot out of you both.”
Yoba starts to protest, but Dranko cuts her off.
“I am well aware that you have a cause, and that Ernest has one here as well, but if you let a small matter of inter-planar borders hold the two of you apart, I’m going to be really disappointed.
“But...” says Ernie.
”And that’s my piece!” roars Dranko, who immediately turns and walks away.
“He cares a lot about you, doesn’t he?” says Yoba, smiling. “Ernie, I have to go back, but he’s essentially right. We can see each other from time to time – and talk via sendings -- until one of our situations changes.”
There are many ways to say ‘I love you’ in twenty-five words or less.
* *
It’s a warmer day than yesterday, making the snow slick and exposing swathes of mud. Grey Wolf summons up horses for all the Company to ride. They make sparse and idle conversation throughout the day, preferring to quietly enjoy the return to normalcy. But as the sun starts to set, Ernie beings to recognize landmarks at the outskirts of Dingman’s Ferry. He starts to babble excitedly to Yoba.
“That’s the fence we would follow when the snows were heavy... we could follow it from the farthest orchard into the center of town following the bits of the posts sticking up. And there’s the Longfield’s farm, where we used to play tag in his cornfields until he’d come out waving his pitchfork.”
Dranko laughs. “And that’s the tree I fell asleep under listening to Ernie’s boring lectures about his homeland.”
Soon they arrive at the doorstep of Ernie’s childhood home. His mother, Rowan Roundhill, opens the door.
“Ernest!” she exclaims happily.
“Hi Mom! I was in the neighborhood, so I thought I’d stop by.”
“You know you’re always welcome, you and your friends. I know everyone here I think...”
She looks up at the faces of the assembled heroes, but stops when her eyes settle on Yoba.
“I’d like you to meet Yoba Stoutheart,” says Ernie, unable to mitigate his grin in the slightest. “She’s a paladin. We met her on our recent travels.”
Behind Ernie’s mom, his dad Hob is looking back and forth between Yoba and Ernie, a look of incredulous approval on his face. It’s clear what he’s thinking: Ernie’s ship has finally come in.
“Come in everyone!” says Rowan, getting hold of herself. “You must be hungry!”
The non-halflings have to duck to get through the door, and crouch a bit inside, but soon all are seated and enjoying an incredible feast. It seems that ever since Rowan learned that her son was part of an itinerant adventuring group, she made sure to always keep an extra store of food in the cupboards and pantries for just this sort of occasion.
They talk some about their adventure, but Ernie is highly reluctant to explain the details, believing that his parents won’t understand the ins and outs of time travel and alternate histories. He nudges the conversation toward lighter topics, like Dranko and Morningstar having gotten married while they were on the road. Rowan and Hob, on more familiar ground, press for details.
“We’ve both changed our last name to “Brightshield,” says Dranko, beaming at his wife. “Which reminds me: we should change the name of Castle Blackhope to Castle Brightshield.”
“You mean Longtooth Keep?” asks Flicker.
“Yeah. Castle Blackhope. That’s the one,” answers Dranko. “And if someone has taken it over, we can wait for them to fix it up and then take it back. By force, if necessary. It’ll be cheaper than fixing it up ourselves.”
“Isn’t siege warfare expensive?” asks Flicker.
“Not the way these two do it!” says Dranko, gesturing to Aravis and Grey Wolf.
“But they way they do it,” says Flicker, “you’ll just have to fix it all over again!”
* *
As they finish up dessert – home-baked pies cooked by Rowan – Dranko asks idly about the Wilburforce Statue.
“They finished excavating it,” says Rowan. “They want to start a museum, since it’s clearly of historic import. But the problem is, they can’t find anything else to put in it.”
She chuckles before continuing. “Don’t tell anyone I said this, but I won’t be sad to see the museum fail. You remember Murgy Thorn? Technically the statue was on his property, so he owns it, and the museum is his idea. He’s not as unpleasant as he used to be, but he’s still a schemer. I don’t like that he owns a statue that’s clearly of someone from our family.”
Dranko rubs his hands together. “Come on, gang. Let’s take a little trip over to Murgy’s tavern.” Only Yoba and Ernie stay behind, happy to stay and chat with the parents.
It’s not a long walk. Most of the Company sit at a long table and start drinking, but Dranko, having used his robe of blending to make himself look somewhat impoverished, stands at the door. Grey Wolf and Aravis stand behind him, as intimidating a pair of bodyguards as one could ever fear to meet.
Eventually an officious halfling comes bustling over.
“I am looking for Murgy Thorn,” says Dranko.
“Who, may I ask, is calling for him?” asks the halfling.
“I am Sir Dranko.”
“Does he know you?”
“Indeed he does.”
The halfling disappears into a back room, then returns a minute later.
“Mr. Thorn is indisposed. Can you come back tomorrow?”
“No,” says Dranko.
“We have to speak with him now!” barks Aravis.
The halfling looks up into human eyes reflecting endless stars.
“Oh. That’s different. One moment!” The halfling again dashes off.
Dranko chuckles as he listens to the raised voices coming from the back room. Soon enough Murgy Thorn emerges, the same cantankerous, middle-aged halfling they remember.
“Been a long time, Murgy,” says Dranko.
“Yes, yes it has,” says Murgy, casting a nervous glance at Grey Wolf and Aravis.
“I think you’ll want to have this conversation in private,” Dranko suggests.
“Er... I think it’s better out here,” says Murgy. “You know... lots of people, no one would try anything...”
“If you don’t mind everyone hearing your business, sure!” says Dranko.
“These people know my business,” says Murgy, gaining some confidence. “I’m a respectable man of the town, and I have nothing to hide.”
“Fine,” says Dranko. “I understand you plan to start a museum, based around the statue that you have in your basement.”
“Have you come to make any donations or investments?” asks Murgy.
“In a sense. The way I see it, you seem like a fellow more interested in a good profit and comfortable living, than necessarily in showcasing the culture of your people. Is that a fair statement?”
Murgy thinks for a moment.
“No. I want to do both.”
“I have learned a little bit about museums in my travels,” continues Dranko. “They almost never make any money, and they take great time and expense to build. I wish to offer you an alternative. Instead of you going into debt, I wish to give you a flat amount of money right now, for the statue. Instead of a centerpiece for your museum, you will have a large amount of cash.”
Murgy blinks. “You’re right,” he says. “We should be having this conversation in private. Let’s discuss terms.”
Once they’re seated in the back room, Dranko keeps on with his pitch.
“You will notice that, despite the fact that we are Knights of the Realm, and own a keep and several mansions given us by the king, we have no intention of simply seizing the statue.”
“Oh, I know you wouldn’t do that,” says Murgy. “You’re friends of Ernest Roundhill. He wouldn’t have made friends with those who would steal.”
To their great credit, neither Grey Wolf nor Aravis actually laugh out loud at this.
“What do you think is a fair price for the statue?” asks Dranko.
“Well,” says Murgy, “you understand its age has been estimated at hundreds of years old. It is an exquisite piece of stonework, the likes of which cannot be found for miles around. It bears an uncanny resemblance to the greatest hero of our city, the aforementioned Ernest Roundhill. I would say it’s extraordinarily valuable.”
He thinks for a moment, and what he’s clearly thinking is: how high can I go without being preposterous?
“I would think... I would think a thousand pieces of gold. If I were to commission it today, it would cost nearly that much, even not regarding its historical value.”
Dranko smiles indulgently. “I was thinking of more like that number with a zero removed.”
“A hundred gold!” exclaims Murgy. “Surely you must be joking. For a hundred gold pieces I couldn’t even attain a cheap version of the statue....”
The haggling begins, and ends a few minutes later with Murgy accepting an offer of 500 gold pieces, and an agreement that his own name will appear on a plaque to be set on its base. It’s a princely sum for Murgy, and he’s obviously pleased with himself. Dranko pulls out a sack of coins and counts out the gold and platinum right there on Murgy’s desk. The halfling’s jaw drops at the thought of anyone carrying that much cash around with them. He hands over a signed deed of ownership.
* *
The following morning brings the discovery that the restoration of the proper timeline has come with one poor side-effect. The itchy rash that had been intermittently plaguing most of the Company has returned for Morningstar and Aravis. Yoba uses her powers to eradicate the symptoms, but from experience they expect it will return tomorrow.
“I guess we still have rabid crazy dragon-itis,” Morningstar sighs.
“Hey Ernie,” says Dranko. “I think there’s something you should see in the town square.”
Ernie looks apprehensive, but Dranko reveals nothing more. They walk through town until they reach the center of Dingman’s Ferry.
The Wilburforce Statue, at Dranko’s request, is already being set onto a base. Eight industrious halflings are working on the construction and even laying a small garden around it.
“What did you do?" shouts Ernie. “And when will Murgy be able to walk again?”
Dranko just smiles.
“The benches were my idea,” says Morningstar, grinning at Ernie’s slack-jawed stare.
Yoba leans in to whisper in Ernie’s ear. “Are you going to tell anyone it’s not actually you?”
When Ernie doesn’t answer, Yoba adds: “I won’t tell until you do.”
“Hey Kibi,” says Dranko. “Remember how you carved something on the bottom of the foot of the statue back in the past? You should see if it’s still there!”
Kibi xorn moves into the ground, and pops up a moment later.
“The inscription is still there, just like I wrote it!” he says happily.
“That’s so neat! exclaims Dranko.
Kibi smirks. “You don’t know what I wrote.”
Dranko pales. “Kibi, I trust that you would never do anything to cast one of your friends in an unfavorable light.”
“Just like Ernie would never have a friend who steals?” asks Kibi, eyebrows raised.
“Ah, crap,” says Dranko.
...to be continued...
Last edited:
Piratecat
Sesquipedalian
Wow, I had totally forgotten about this. That's great.
We just played Sagiro's game this evening -- AND last Monday as well. We're 17th level. There have been deaths and betrayals and surprises. And the game remains an utter delight.
But man, we still have some really embarrassing combats. It was nice to read the fight at the plinths, back when we had our tactics nicely polished for a change.
We just played Sagiro's game this evening -- AND last Monday as well. We're 17th level. There have been deaths and betrayals and surprises. And the game remains an utter delight.
But man, we still have some really embarrassing combats. It was nice to read the fight at the plinths, back when we had our tactics nicely polished for a change.
blargney the second
blargney the minute's son
Updates to this story hour make me do a happy dance like the carol-loving kids from Love Actually.
-blarg
-blarg
LightPhoenix
First Post
Piratecat said:Wow, I had totally forgotten about this. That's great.
We just played Sagiro's game this evening -- AND last Monday as well. We're 17th level. There have been deaths and betrayals and surprises. And the game remains an utter delight.
But man, we still have some really embarrassing combats. It was nice to read the fight at the plinths, back when we had our tactics nicely polished for a change.
That's what happens when you take a break...
I didn't even realize there were posts, and had three posts to read.
Glad to hear things are going well Sagiro!
Joshua Randall
Legend
Dang, about six months ago I had this elaborate theory worked out regarding the itchy rash, but I never posted it, and now I've forgotten all my brilliant insights.
= = =
In other news, I suspect the party hasn't seen the last of Naloric and the Sharshun. Villains that good aren't so easily circumvented.
= = =
In other news, I suspect the party hasn't seen the last of Naloric and the Sharshun. Villains that good aren't so easily circumvented.
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