Small Beginnings - Final Update 6/18/04, ITEOTWAWKI, AIFF!
Bubbalicious
First Post
Boo!
Black Bard
First Post
Too late...
I've dropped just to say there I'm alive...but not quite happy, I've missed the contest deadline...Really a shame...
I'm still lagged behind in our heroes exploits, but, with the Gods' help, I'll catch up with you guys...
See ya...
P.S.: Is Livewire alive too?
I've dropped just to say there I'm alive...but not quite happy, I've missed the contest deadline...Really a shame...
I'm still lagged behind in our heroes exploits, but, with the Gods' help, I'll catch up with you guys...
See ya...
P.S.: Is Livewire alive too?
Hello All,
Just wanted to pop in and say, "I'm really sorry for the long delay we have had in posting."
I apologize. I have been spending most of my free time trying to find a job since my current employement ends soon. (I have been given an extension again so I am not fully up the creek yet). Enk and I have begun work on the next installemnt and it should be up soon.
Once again, I'm sorry. Thank you for your patience and please see Enk for any refunds, returns or exchanges....
on a seperate note: I am working on a revised document for Fett to post on the gods for my world. So keep your eyes peeled....
Just wanted to pop in and say, "I'm really sorry for the long delay we have had in posting."
I apologize. I have been spending most of my free time trying to find a job since my current employement ends soon. (I have been given an extension again so I am not fully up the creek yet). Enk and I have begun work on the next installemnt and it should be up soon.
Once again, I'm sorry. Thank you for your patience and please see Enk for any refunds, returns or exchanges....
on a seperate note: I am working on a revised document for Fett to post on the gods for my world. So keep your eyes peeled....
LuYangShih
First Post
That's one way to try and kill a guy. Rather ineffecient, though, Wishbone should've just Disintegrated him instead.
Enk&D'Shai
First Post
"There Goes our Surprise Round," or "Who Invited Trogdor the Burninator?"
Ahem. A Poem.
There once was a Knight named Hanover
Who was not at all lucky; moreover,
He was somewhat dimwitted,
But also committed,
And as such was known as a rover.
This rover was always on quest,
And Oh! did his belly protest!
Fine meals did it miss,
And banquets - what bliss!
But ne’er did the knight ever rest
‘Til one fateful trip through a bog,
This knight he did hear of a hog.
A magic gold pig,
It conjured feasts big:
Fine mutton, nice cheese, and some grog.
“What a boon for a traveling man!
I’ll get it and quick if I can!”
“But a dragon doth guard
This pig,” said a bard,
“So you’d best come up quick with a plan.”
“My plan it consists of this sword,
Slay dragon, and pick through his hoard!
The pig I shall find -
Our fates are entwined.
Its magic shall be my reward.”
And Oh! what a glorious fight,
A tale in which you’d delight.
But skip it we must,
In this you must trust,
For the bard he still owns copyright.
To sum up instead we will say
That then by the end of the fray:
Hanover scored one,
The Dragon scored none,
The knight was the winner. Okay?
“No longer trail rations I’ll eat,
Instead I’ll have wine and fine meat!”
His belly grew large,
As big as a barge,
And his life, it now was complete.
‘Til one day there came a sly thief
Who snuck in as was his motif.
The knave danced a quick jig
And then stole the pig,
And left the Knight stricken with grief.
Now the Knight he still looks for his swine,
And all over he looks for its sign.
Still looks, the bards say,
To this very day.
And this tale, well, now it is thine.
The End.
Some quick things: Rel and Badger - please let us know when you receive your packages. They were (finally!) sent last week, and you should have them any day now. Sorry about the delay.
Right now I'm working on creating a new contest idea - I'll post it as soon as I get all the kinks worked out.
You mean as soon as you find something else of mine to give away.
Exactly!
By the way, Mrs. Enk is coming along well - only about another month or so before the new gamer arrives! Pictures will be posted as soon as they get developed.
I hope the baby doesn't look like you.
Heck, Ihope the baby doesn't look like me. Tip of the day?
Tip O' the Day: Looking for a job really sucks.
And with that, let's get back on track.
*****
"There Goes our Surprise Round," or "Who Invited Trogdor the Burninator?"
Theo didn’t know which was worse: the glowing colors that now bathed him or the magical mouth bellowing out accusations over his head. The cleric recognized the name, Lizon had spoken of this Mistslayer as an old adventuring companion, but he didn’t have time to dwell on the story behind this magic: the three, armed opponents who turned towards him made sure of that. That’s the way the storm cloud rumbles.
Hefting his flail and shield, the cleric braced to meet the rush of his adversaries. The dark-skinned swordsman moved in first, his sword whistling toward the priest’s own weapon. Just before contact, Ander lunged forward from behind the stacked barrels and caught the blow on his staff.
“Shatterspike!” the dark warrior yelled as his weapon made contact with the woodsman’s parry. Theo watched as the swordsman’s blade bit deep into the wooden staff. To his horror, the sword flashed and splintered the ironwood weapon into two useless sticks. Both priest and ranger stood in shock as the pieces of Ander’s prized weapon fell from his fingertips.
The warrior smiled, reminding the cleric of a knotted tree stump carved for Festival, as his sword continued to gleam. Theo felt his stomach tighten: he and his friends were up against unknown magic.
Behind the swordsman, Theo saw that Aurora and Ashrem had jumped out from their own hiding spots to strike the remaining pair of enemies before they could surround Ander and himself. The sorceress’ missiles burned into the dark goblin, while the feloine buried his blade deep into the unsuspecting portly man’s back.
Meanwhile, knowing that Ander was defenseless, the warrior priest knocked the woodsman aside with his shield and sent a vicious overhand blow directly at the dark warrior. The off-balance swing flew wide, but still managed to clip the swordsman’s mailed shoulder. To Theo’s surprise the warrior’s chain mail didn’t absorb the blow as it should have, but instead bounced the shot as if the armor covered a log rather than flesh. The confused cleric struggled to block the warrior’s return swing as he realized that the dark tone on the swordsman’s skin was not natural, but rather the result of druidic sorcery.
“Shatterspike!” the dark warrior yelled, once again invoking the power of his blade, but this time Theo’s weapon was his target. The sword met the flail in mid-swing shattering the head as if it were made of glass. The impact showered the priest with shards of metal and wood, driving him back away from his foe. His adversary continued to drive forward, but Ander once again moved to intercept him.
The woodsman stood armed only with his long knife. Theo could see at a glance that his young friend’s choice of weaponry was outmatched by the dark-skinned warrior’s blade: not only by the superior length of the sword, but also by its magical enchantments. The priest turned to call for help as the ranger dodged the dark warrior’s blows, but to his dismay Theo found his friends were no better off than Ander and himself.
The cleric watched as Aurora’s dragon missiles flew toward the female goblin only to be turned aside by some unseen force. Then the thorn bushes spilling in through the open archway rose up and entangled Ashrem as Theo watched helplessly. When the priest turned his eyes toward Pack, he saw that Meepo and the halfling danced wildly to avoid the silver sickle wielded by the rotund man, who laughed at his small assailants as he swung. “Your ashes will make a fine fertilizer to strengthen my blighted army.”
Theo knew that he needed to do something. Forgive me Zuras. I swore to never use your might on a living person, that they may one day be swayed to your calling, but… “By Zuras, I strike thee down!”
The warrior priest felt the customary tingling along his arm as his shield gathered and dispersed the Lightning Lord’s gift. The arching blue bolt erupted from his holy totem and struck the dark swordsman across the chest, lifting him from his feet and hurling him across the flagstone floor. Acrid smoke rose from Theo’s shield and the priest dropped to one knee, exhausted - never before had he channeled such a powerful force. Zuras smiles on us!
***
Balsag could smell the winds change, and it didn’t take his sensitive nose to do it. From his many hiding places within the citadel he had watched them as they trekked through his hunting grounds. At first, the bugbear had dismissed them as nothing more than a nuisance that the goblins would quickly dispatch; but battle after battle they showed both strength and resourcefulness. No doubt about it, they were dangerous. Even though the demon-tree’s supplicants had the upper hand, the surface dwellers would not lose, especially if the Hunter did not add his blade to the fray.
The decision not to join the fight had snuck up on him – it almost made the bugbear laugh that it took the Hunter to sneak up on the Hunter – but when he thought about it, it made sense. The druid’s coffers grew smaller each day that his master remained trapped within his woody prison; it was apparent that Belak would soon no longer be able to meet Balsag’s price. These surface dwellers looked like his next Hanover’s Pig.
The bugbear shifted his weight and leaned in to get a better look at the action just in time to witness the Zuran blasting a bolt of blue lightning into the chest of the supplicant knight Bradford. The stroke lifted the dark knight off his feet and sent him soaring back beyond Balsag’s view. Belak and his cronies were definitely in trouble, enough trouble that the Hunter half expected to see…
There they were. A half dozen twig blights ran into the room, two of the larger ones making for the priest and the younger warrior, while the smaller ones harried the rest. The bugbear found it hard to keep track of all the combatants until Belak began burning things.
Balsag never understood how someone so concerned about plants could be so infatuated with fire, but the druid Belak certainly loved it. The Hunter heard Belak shout over the roar of battle: “Fulmen!” Then the bugbear sat back to watch the surface dwellers reaction to what came next.
Belak’s sickle burst into flame on the downstroke as he tried to drive its tip into the halfling’s skull. The runt skipped aside, letting the sickle swing past but his sleeve caught fire, and then he lost several valuable seconds as he stepped out of Belak’s fiery reach and patted the flames down. Meanwhile, the kobold poked and prodded at the druid, keeping his attention away from the runt. Strange behavior for a kobold, yes, but expected from this one.
The snapping of twigs caught the Hunter’s attention, and he swung his eyes to the two shattered blights that had made for the sorceress. The girl was possibly the most dangerous of the bunch – if it came to a fight, she would have to be the first to go. A shout from out of his field of vision brought his gaze back to the pair of men fighting the two large twig blights; or more appropriately one twig blight, as the other had been beaten into a twitching pile of debris. The one the surfacers called Ander had slashed away bits and pieces from the blight still standing, but was really setting it up for a crushing blow by the priest behind it. Then Bradford barreled into the younger man, knocking him away from the rest of the fight. The priest faltered, and Balsag could almost feel his surprise as the gray haired man swung ineffectually at the remaining twig blight.
Then Belak screamed in fury. A quick look back at the druid showed that his fight against the two runts, while not exactly a losing battle, had become frustrating – he had managed to singe both of them, but had yet to set either one aflame. Balsag saw the veins on his neck rise, and narrowed his eyes as his employer, or rather former employer, shouted again.
“Fulmenictus!”
The jet of flame spat from Belak’s outstretched hand, and completely missed his target. The halfling had dodged nimbly aside as the druid yelled, and the tongue of flame caught one of the smaller twig blights instead. Its screams sounded like the hissing of green wood. Flailing its burning arms, it ran haphazardly all over the battlefield, distracting Belak’s witchdoctor long enough for the feloine to work its way behind her. With a quick thrust, he pushed his small sword through her neck and she collapsed in a heap.
The woodsman rushed past Balsag’s peephole brandishing Bradford’s sword: the bugbear smiled at the notion that the knight had gotten his grisly reward for his previous treacheries, and watched as the young surface dweller closed on Belak. Then it was Belak’s turn to feel the flame, as the surface sorceress conjured up a ball of fire that rolled up and over the druid.
Belak shrieked in pain and fell backward into the archway leading to the tree’s hearth, the ball following him as he fell. It rolled right over him, leaving a charred corpse in its wake, and slowly turned around to roll over him again. As it did, the dry thorn bushes on the edge of the opening smoked and smoldered, finally catching fire completely.
Balsag moved quietly away from his peephole. The flames would likely be put out by the tree’s remaining retainers before they got out of control, but for the next few hours the tree’s hearth would be smoky, hot, and inhospitable. It would be more than enough time to decide his next move.
*****
Next Time:
“Guess Who’s Coming for Dinner,” or “It’s Just Not a Picnic if the Forest Isn’t on Fire”
Ahem. A Poem.
There once was a Knight named Hanover
Who was not at all lucky; moreover,
He was somewhat dimwitted,
But also committed,
And as such was known as a rover.
This rover was always on quest,
And Oh! did his belly protest!
Fine meals did it miss,
And banquets - what bliss!
But ne’er did the knight ever rest
‘Til one fateful trip through a bog,
This knight he did hear of a hog.
A magic gold pig,
It conjured feasts big:
Fine mutton, nice cheese, and some grog.
“What a boon for a traveling man!
I’ll get it and quick if I can!”
“But a dragon doth guard
This pig,” said a bard,
“So you’d best come up quick with a plan.”
“My plan it consists of this sword,
Slay dragon, and pick through his hoard!
The pig I shall find -
Our fates are entwined.
Its magic shall be my reward.”
And Oh! what a glorious fight,
A tale in which you’d delight.
But skip it we must,
In this you must trust,
For the bard he still owns copyright.
To sum up instead we will say
That then by the end of the fray:
Hanover scored one,
The Dragon scored none,
The knight was the winner. Okay?
“No longer trail rations I’ll eat,
Instead I’ll have wine and fine meat!”
His belly grew large,
As big as a barge,
And his life, it now was complete.
‘Til one day there came a sly thief
Who snuck in as was his motif.
The knave danced a quick jig
And then stole the pig,
And left the Knight stricken with grief.
Now the Knight he still looks for his swine,
And all over he looks for its sign.
Still looks, the bards say,
To this very day.
And this tale, well, now it is thine.
The End.
Some quick things: Rel and Badger - please let us know when you receive your packages. They were (finally!) sent last week, and you should have them any day now. Sorry about the delay.
Right now I'm working on creating a new contest idea - I'll post it as soon as I get all the kinks worked out.
You mean as soon as you find something else of mine to give away.
Exactly!
By the way, Mrs. Enk is coming along well - only about another month or so before the new gamer arrives! Pictures will be posted as soon as they get developed.
I hope the baby doesn't look like you.
Heck, Ihope the baby doesn't look like me. Tip of the day?
Tip O' the Day: Looking for a job really sucks.
And with that, let's get back on track.
*****
"There Goes our Surprise Round," or "Who Invited Trogdor the Burninator?"
Theo didn’t know which was worse: the glowing colors that now bathed him or the magical mouth bellowing out accusations over his head. The cleric recognized the name, Lizon had spoken of this Mistslayer as an old adventuring companion, but he didn’t have time to dwell on the story behind this magic: the three, armed opponents who turned towards him made sure of that. That’s the way the storm cloud rumbles.
Hefting his flail and shield, the cleric braced to meet the rush of his adversaries. The dark-skinned swordsman moved in first, his sword whistling toward the priest’s own weapon. Just before contact, Ander lunged forward from behind the stacked barrels and caught the blow on his staff.
“Shatterspike!” the dark warrior yelled as his weapon made contact with the woodsman’s parry. Theo watched as the swordsman’s blade bit deep into the wooden staff. To his horror, the sword flashed and splintered the ironwood weapon into two useless sticks. Both priest and ranger stood in shock as the pieces of Ander’s prized weapon fell from his fingertips.
The warrior smiled, reminding the cleric of a knotted tree stump carved for Festival, as his sword continued to gleam. Theo felt his stomach tighten: he and his friends were up against unknown magic.
Behind the swordsman, Theo saw that Aurora and Ashrem had jumped out from their own hiding spots to strike the remaining pair of enemies before they could surround Ander and himself. The sorceress’ missiles burned into the dark goblin, while the feloine buried his blade deep into the unsuspecting portly man’s back.
Meanwhile, knowing that Ander was defenseless, the warrior priest knocked the woodsman aside with his shield and sent a vicious overhand blow directly at the dark warrior. The off-balance swing flew wide, but still managed to clip the swordsman’s mailed shoulder. To Theo’s surprise the warrior’s chain mail didn’t absorb the blow as it should have, but instead bounced the shot as if the armor covered a log rather than flesh. The confused cleric struggled to block the warrior’s return swing as he realized that the dark tone on the swordsman’s skin was not natural, but rather the result of druidic sorcery.
“Shatterspike!” the dark warrior yelled, once again invoking the power of his blade, but this time Theo’s weapon was his target. The sword met the flail in mid-swing shattering the head as if it were made of glass. The impact showered the priest with shards of metal and wood, driving him back away from his foe. His adversary continued to drive forward, but Ander once again moved to intercept him.
The woodsman stood armed only with his long knife. Theo could see at a glance that his young friend’s choice of weaponry was outmatched by the dark-skinned warrior’s blade: not only by the superior length of the sword, but also by its magical enchantments. The priest turned to call for help as the ranger dodged the dark warrior’s blows, but to his dismay Theo found his friends were no better off than Ander and himself.
The cleric watched as Aurora’s dragon missiles flew toward the female goblin only to be turned aside by some unseen force. Then the thorn bushes spilling in through the open archway rose up and entangled Ashrem as Theo watched helplessly. When the priest turned his eyes toward Pack, he saw that Meepo and the halfling danced wildly to avoid the silver sickle wielded by the rotund man, who laughed at his small assailants as he swung. “Your ashes will make a fine fertilizer to strengthen my blighted army.”
Theo knew that he needed to do something. Forgive me Zuras. I swore to never use your might on a living person, that they may one day be swayed to your calling, but… “By Zuras, I strike thee down!”
The warrior priest felt the customary tingling along his arm as his shield gathered and dispersed the Lightning Lord’s gift. The arching blue bolt erupted from his holy totem and struck the dark swordsman across the chest, lifting him from his feet and hurling him across the flagstone floor. Acrid smoke rose from Theo’s shield and the priest dropped to one knee, exhausted - never before had he channeled such a powerful force. Zuras smiles on us!
***
Balsag could smell the winds change, and it didn’t take his sensitive nose to do it. From his many hiding places within the citadel he had watched them as they trekked through his hunting grounds. At first, the bugbear had dismissed them as nothing more than a nuisance that the goblins would quickly dispatch; but battle after battle they showed both strength and resourcefulness. No doubt about it, they were dangerous. Even though the demon-tree’s supplicants had the upper hand, the surface dwellers would not lose, especially if the Hunter did not add his blade to the fray.
The decision not to join the fight had snuck up on him – it almost made the bugbear laugh that it took the Hunter to sneak up on the Hunter – but when he thought about it, it made sense. The druid’s coffers grew smaller each day that his master remained trapped within his woody prison; it was apparent that Belak would soon no longer be able to meet Balsag’s price. These surface dwellers looked like his next Hanover’s Pig.
The bugbear shifted his weight and leaned in to get a better look at the action just in time to witness the Zuran blasting a bolt of blue lightning into the chest of the supplicant knight Bradford. The stroke lifted the dark knight off his feet and sent him soaring back beyond Balsag’s view. Belak and his cronies were definitely in trouble, enough trouble that the Hunter half expected to see…
There they were. A half dozen twig blights ran into the room, two of the larger ones making for the priest and the younger warrior, while the smaller ones harried the rest. The bugbear found it hard to keep track of all the combatants until Belak began burning things.
Balsag never understood how someone so concerned about plants could be so infatuated with fire, but the druid Belak certainly loved it. The Hunter heard Belak shout over the roar of battle: “Fulmen!” Then the bugbear sat back to watch the surface dwellers reaction to what came next.
Belak’s sickle burst into flame on the downstroke as he tried to drive its tip into the halfling’s skull. The runt skipped aside, letting the sickle swing past but his sleeve caught fire, and then he lost several valuable seconds as he stepped out of Belak’s fiery reach and patted the flames down. Meanwhile, the kobold poked and prodded at the druid, keeping his attention away from the runt. Strange behavior for a kobold, yes, but expected from this one.
The snapping of twigs caught the Hunter’s attention, and he swung his eyes to the two shattered blights that had made for the sorceress. The girl was possibly the most dangerous of the bunch – if it came to a fight, she would have to be the first to go. A shout from out of his field of vision brought his gaze back to the pair of men fighting the two large twig blights; or more appropriately one twig blight, as the other had been beaten into a twitching pile of debris. The one the surfacers called Ander had slashed away bits and pieces from the blight still standing, but was really setting it up for a crushing blow by the priest behind it. Then Bradford barreled into the younger man, knocking him away from the rest of the fight. The priest faltered, and Balsag could almost feel his surprise as the gray haired man swung ineffectually at the remaining twig blight.
Then Belak screamed in fury. A quick look back at the druid showed that his fight against the two runts, while not exactly a losing battle, had become frustrating – he had managed to singe both of them, but had yet to set either one aflame. Balsag saw the veins on his neck rise, and narrowed his eyes as his employer, or rather former employer, shouted again.
“Fulmenictus!”
The jet of flame spat from Belak’s outstretched hand, and completely missed his target. The halfling had dodged nimbly aside as the druid yelled, and the tongue of flame caught one of the smaller twig blights instead. Its screams sounded like the hissing of green wood. Flailing its burning arms, it ran haphazardly all over the battlefield, distracting Belak’s witchdoctor long enough for the feloine to work its way behind her. With a quick thrust, he pushed his small sword through her neck and she collapsed in a heap.
The woodsman rushed past Balsag’s peephole brandishing Bradford’s sword: the bugbear smiled at the notion that the knight had gotten his grisly reward for his previous treacheries, and watched as the young surface dweller closed on Belak. Then it was Belak’s turn to feel the flame, as the surface sorceress conjured up a ball of fire that rolled up and over the druid.
Belak shrieked in pain and fell backward into the archway leading to the tree’s hearth, the ball following him as he fell. It rolled right over him, leaving a charred corpse in its wake, and slowly turned around to roll over him again. As it did, the dry thorn bushes on the edge of the opening smoked and smoldered, finally catching fire completely.
Balsag moved quietly away from his peephole. The flames would likely be put out by the tree’s remaining retainers before they got out of control, but for the next few hours the tree’s hearth would be smoky, hot, and inhospitable. It would be more than enough time to decide his next move.
*****
Next Time:
“Guess Who’s Coming for Dinner,” or “It’s Just Not a Picnic if the Forest Isn’t on Fire”
Rel
Liquid Awesome
Great new update, guys! I loved how Aurora ran over Belak a second time with the Flaming Sphere.
Also, I got my dice in the mail today! Thanks so much for the prize. I gave them a few "practice rolls" (not that I believe in such things - mostly). The jury's still out on the d20's, which seem disinclined to roll anything higher than a 13. But the d6's are very nice indeed and I think that I shall pronounce them the Official Sneak Attack Dice of Fimbul Ferryford. He's the Halfling Rogue that I'm playing right now.
Thanks again and I look forward to more story.
Also, I got my dice in the mail today! Thanks so much for the prize. I gave them a few "practice rolls" (not that I believe in such things - mostly). The jury's still out on the d20's, which seem disinclined to roll anything higher than a 13. But the d6's are very nice indeed and I think that I shall pronounce them the Official Sneak Attack Dice of Fimbul Ferryford. He's the Halfling Rogue that I'm playing right now.
Thanks again and I look forward to more story.
LuYangShih
First Post
fett527 said:
Personally, I'd much rather have the effeciency and satisfaction of using Disintegration than the "style' and "imagination" of Wishbones chosen method. After all, if you walk into the evil villians convention, do you want everyone to cheer your name, or go silent in fear? All the style in the world doesn't mean much if your target doesn't die.
Nice update, by the way. It's easy to Sunder things, isn't it? At least you don't have any magic items yet.
