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(Thanks to Wulf's book) Heroes of High Favor: A Dwarven Saga
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<blockquote data-quote="Rune" data-source="post: 394688" data-attributes="member: 67"><p><strong>Session 3, part 3</strong></p><p></p><p>The dwarves heave a collective sigh, ready their weapons, and go forth into the darkness to do battle with this new opponent.</p><p></p><p>They encounter...nothing.</p><p></p><p>"Where ye be, O Tree o' Power?"</p><p></p><p><em>"SEEK ME OUT, AND YOU MAY WELL SEEK YOUR DOOM."</em></p><p></p><p>The voice now seems to come from the dwarves' left flank. The dwarves alter their course to compensate.</p><p></p><p>"Yeah, yeah. Where ye be, O Tree o' Power?"</p><p></p><p><em>"POWERFUL AM I, WHOM YOU DISCOUNT."</em></p><p></p><p>The voice is now on their right.</p><p></p><p>"Why can't ye be more <em>treelike</em>, an' stay put while we're lookin' fer ye?"</p><p></p><p><em>"THEN STAND, I SHALL, IF YOU SEEK YOUR DEATH SO SOON!"</em></p><p></p><p>This last pronouncement is bellowed from just behind the dwarves.</p><p></p><p>But, when they turn around, they still see no tree.</p><p></p><p>Rather, Wroth sees something small skitter in the shadows at the edge of his vision.</p><p></p><p>"It's a frikkin' <em>gnome</em>," he says with a gritty chuckle. "Let's get 'im!"</p><p></p><p>The four dwarves have little trouble cornering the little trickster and pin him to the newly-widened stone wall, not terribly far away from the remains of the pasty human.</p><p></p><p>"Are ye daft?"</p><p></p><p>"'Course he's daft! He's a gnome!"</p><p></p><p>"Just what the hell do ye think ye're doin'?"</p><p></p><p>"Give us one reason why we shouldn' skin ye an' leave ye' to rot down here?"</p><p></p><p>"I bet he's a spy fer th' surface-dwellers."</p><p></p><p>"Don't look like he's got the intellimagence fer it."</p><p></p><p>"Well, what should we do wit' 'im?"</p><p></p><p>When the gnome is finally allowed a chance to speak, he starts to explain his predicament.</p><p></p><p>This is a condensed retelling of what the dwarves hear:</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>...From which, the dwarves gather that the gnome is, in fact, the missing member of the previously encountered party (figures they'd have a gnome, too), rather than the unfortunate human who now adorns the tunnel wall. For some reason or another, the gnome decided that he didn't really like his companions and now he'd rather hang around and pester the dwarves.</p><p></p><p>Like hell.</p><p></p><p>"Ye ain't commin' wit' us."</p><p></p><p>"Sure, I am. You'll learn to like me."</p><p></p><p>"Shave me beard an' call me an elf-wench if I let this li'l runt come wit' us, 'cause no dwarven lass is gonna be caught beside a squeaky li'l bugger like 'im."</p><p></p><p>"Aw, come on! I'm cute! I'm likeable!"</p><p></p><p>"Fine! Ye shut up and keep shut up, an' ye can follow us, but don' blame us if we get ye killed!"</p><p></p><p>As that order of business has finally been settled, the dwarves determine that it is time to move on. Brunta whispers to his badger in a very audible rasp, "Bagger, go down this tunnel an' stiff out tha regiment."</p><p></p><p>The badger looks scornfully upon its "friend."</p><p></p><p>"Go on, do it."</p><p></p><p>The badger looks balefully upon its "companion."</p><p></p><p>"I'll spay you."</p><p></p><p><em>Grrrrrrr.</em></p><p></p><p>Wroth interjects diplomatically, if somewhat violently, and moves down the tunnel, in the fore.</p><p></p><p>"Ye're a bad bagger," whispers Brunta.</p><p></p><p>The tunnel neither branches, nor turns for several miles and the dwarves eventually decide to make camp for the night near one wall of the massive tunnel. Looking around, they are surprised to see that the gnome has kept pace with them, so they place him on the first watch and drift into stony slumber, dreaming dwarven dreams.</p><p></p><p>The smell of roasting flesh greets them when they waken.</p><p></p><p>Gnome is cooking rats on spits. The dwarves fall into breakfast ravenously.</p><p></p><p>"We might have a use fer ye, yet, gnome. Long as ye don't say nothin'."</p><p></p><p>"Oh, before I forget to mention it, a very large group of orcs passed by while you were asleep. They were going that way."</p><p></p><p>Gnome points in the direction that the dwarves had been traveling the day before.</p><p></p><p>The dwarves are, understandably, livid. <em>"How many?"</em></p><p></p><p>"I'm not sure, maybe hundred or few."</p><p></p><p>"Ye mean to tell us that a <em>frikkin' ARMY of frikkin' ORCS</em> strolled past us, an' ye didn't think it was important enough to wake us up?"</p><p></p><p>"Well, er...I guess you could put it that way..."</p><p></p><p>Gnome leaps out of the way before he can be skewered by four rat-roasting spits.</p><p></p><p>"So, I guess we're going back the other way, huh?" he squeaks hopefully, but pathetically.</p><p></p><p>Thrallin grins. "Why, no. I reckon we're gonna hunt some orcs!"</p><p></p><p>Gnome's <em>gulp</em> echoes through the tunnel for miles.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Rune, post: 394688, member: 67"] [b]Session 3, part 3[/b] The dwarves heave a collective sigh, ready their weapons, and go forth into the darkness to do battle with this new opponent. They encounter...nothing. "Where ye be, O Tree o' Power?" [i]"SEEK ME OUT, AND YOU MAY WELL SEEK YOUR DOOM."[/i] The voice now seems to come from the dwarves' left flank. The dwarves alter their course to compensate. "Yeah, yeah. Where ye be, O Tree o' Power?" [i]"POWERFUL AM I, WHOM YOU DISCOUNT."[/i] The voice is now on their right. "Why can't ye be more [I]treelike[/I], an' stay put while we're lookin' fer ye?" [i]"THEN STAND, I SHALL, IF YOU SEEK YOUR DEATH SO SOON!"[/i] This last pronouncement is bellowed from just behind the dwarves. But, when they turn around, they still see no tree. Rather, Wroth sees something small skitter in the shadows at the edge of his vision. "It's a frikkin' [I]gnome[/I]," he says with a gritty chuckle. "Let's get 'im!" The four dwarves have little trouble cornering the little trickster and pin him to the newly-widened stone wall, not terribly far away from the remains of the pasty human. "Are ye daft?" "'Course he's daft! He's a gnome!" "Just what the hell do ye think ye're doin'?" "Give us one reason why we shouldn' skin ye an' leave ye' to rot down here?" "I bet he's a spy fer th' surface-dwellers." "Don't look like he's got the intellimagence fer it." "Well, what should we do wit' 'im?" When the gnome is finally allowed a chance to speak, he starts to explain his predicament. This is a condensed retelling of what the dwarves hear: ...From which, the dwarves gather that the gnome is, in fact, the missing member of the previously encountered party (figures they'd have a gnome, too), rather than the unfortunate human who now adorns the tunnel wall. For some reason or another, the gnome decided that he didn't really like his companions and now he'd rather hang around and pester the dwarves. Like hell. "Ye ain't commin' wit' us." "Sure, I am. You'll learn to like me." "Shave me beard an' call me an elf-wench if I let this li'l runt come wit' us, 'cause no dwarven lass is gonna be caught beside a squeaky li'l bugger like 'im." "Aw, come on! I'm cute! I'm likeable!" "Fine! Ye shut up and keep shut up, an' ye can follow us, but don' blame us if we get ye killed!" As that order of business has finally been settled, the dwarves determine that it is time to move on. Brunta whispers to his badger in a very audible rasp, "Bagger, go down this tunnel an' stiff out tha regiment." The badger looks scornfully upon its "friend." "Go on, do it." The badger looks balefully upon its "companion." "I'll spay you." [I]Grrrrrrr.[/I] Wroth interjects diplomatically, if somewhat violently, and moves down the tunnel, in the fore. "Ye're a bad bagger," whispers Brunta. The tunnel neither branches, nor turns for several miles and the dwarves eventually decide to make camp for the night near one wall of the massive tunnel. Looking around, they are surprised to see that the gnome has kept pace with them, so they place him on the first watch and drift into stony slumber, dreaming dwarven dreams. The smell of roasting flesh greets them when they waken. Gnome is cooking rats on spits. The dwarves fall into breakfast ravenously. "We might have a use fer ye, yet, gnome. Long as ye don't say nothin'." "Oh, before I forget to mention it, a very large group of orcs passed by while you were asleep. They were going that way." Gnome points in the direction that the dwarves had been traveling the day before. The dwarves are, understandably, livid. [I]"How many?"[/I] "I'm not sure, maybe hundred or few." "Ye mean to tell us that a [I]frikkin' ARMY of frikkin' ORCS[/I] strolled past us, an' ye didn't think it was important enough to wake us up?" "Well, er...I guess you could put it that way..." Gnome leaps out of the way before he can be skewered by four rat-roasting spits. "So, I guess we're going back the other way, huh?" he squeaks hopefully, but pathetically. Thrallin grins. "Why, no. I reckon we're gonna hunt some orcs!" Gnome's [I]gulp[/I] echoes through the tunnel for miles. [/QUOTE]
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