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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Enk&amp;D'Shai" data-source="post: 924484" data-attributes="member: 7569">"The More the Merrier," or "More Fuel for the Fire!": Part OneHi everybody! My Daddy and his friend are too busy to post this thing they spend their time writing while I sleep. So I decided to post it for them.Here is the Tip of the Day:Poopy diapers really stink.Well what did you expect! I'm only six weeks old!Here you go! Happy nursing! *****"The More the Merrier," or "More Fuel for the Fire!": Part One***I wish Worm was here...Pack dodged sap-covered claws as he ran around the trunk of the demon tree. For an instant, he half expected his muscular half brother to step out from around the blackened trunk and hew his pursuer in half with one fierce blow from the Shimmering Sword. Instead the bard nearly ran into the twigling’s waiting talons, spurring him to retreat backwards faster than he ever thought himself able. It seemed as if half his life had passed since he and his friends began their assault on the twisted tree: for most of that time, Pack had been on the run from one menace or another. Gods I hope I never get used to this!The moment the small band rushed the tree, a half-dozen twiglings had erupted from the thickets, isolating the companions in ones and twos and stalling their charge. Pack alone had managed to get all the way to the tree, where he found that his lucky dagger couldn’t pierce its armor-like bark. Ander had almost made it, but just as the woodsman had reached the base of the tree’s hillock, the giant frog from Balsag’s warning bowled into the ranger, knocking him away. Worse, Pack soon saw that the frog wasn’t just a frog, but a flame tongued fire toad. Now man and beast fought a springing, hopping battle that stopped the woodsman from giving battle orders: orders, Pack soon realized, on which he and his friends had come to rely.A stray root caught Pack’s heel and sent him tumbling to the ground. The fall knocked the wind out of the bard, and his head rang from contact with another root that he had not seen. With the ground spinning beneath him, Pack shook his head and tried to get his bearings, but the grunts and cries of combat swirled around him and he found it hard to concentrate. Almost too late, he remembered why he was running as the shadow of the twigling loomed.  Pack wriggled as the beast approached, claws extended. He opened his mouth to scream, but, for once, nothing came out. When it finally reached Pack, it let out a sound like a bundle of twigs being snapped and reached for the halfling. Its chest burst as two dragony missiles of pure magic plowed into its back. It fell in two pieces, one on either side of Pack.Pack raised a hand to wave to the young sorceress and hopped to his feet, taking in the battlefield and trying to decide where he might be needed. Theo and Ashrem fought back to back, surrounded by three more of the twigs: the priest seemed to be faring well with his chosen weapon, but the feloine’s sword looked useless against his woody foes. Aurora and Meepo, on the other side of the thicket covered forest, were doing much better - Meepo wrestled with one of the beasts as another, one with a spear shoved through its head, ran towards the sorceress only to be blasted by a barrage of her missiles. Ander, alone against the toad, looked the worst by far; singe marks covered the woodsman’s armor as he danced through the tree line trying his best to avoid its flame-coated tongue. Though Pack knew that Ander needed help the most, one look at their running battle told him that his short legs would not be able to keep up with the fight. With a frustrated huff, the halfling turned to help Ashrem and Theo so that they could in turn help Ander. And so the Mouse freed the Lion, that the Lion could save the Lamb… In a better time, Pack might have laughed at how well the old children’s tale fit, except that this mouse had no way to free his two lions. If Ash’s sword can’t hurt them my lucky dagger surely isn’t good enough! Pack looked about frantically for something, anything, that could help him, and in his desperation shrugged off his rucksack and dumped it on the ground. He dug through the pile, discarding bottles, jars, pouches and other brick-a-brack until he came upon the thick leather glove he had taken from Belak. Without hesitation the young bard scooped up the glove and raced to aid his friends, pulling the leather gauntlet over his hand as he did. I hope I can remember the right words!The glove firmly in place, Pack pointed his open hand at the nearest blight, just as Belak had pointed at Ashrem. “Fulmanudle.” Nothing happened. “Fulmunect!” The creature turned Pack’s direction and started toward him. “FULMENTICTUS!”***End of Part One*****Next time:"Part Two", or "Daddy changes diapers"See you soon!</blockquote>

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