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Story Hour
The Goodman Gang in The Mysterious Tower
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<blockquote data-quote="Goonalan" data-source="post: 3838679" data-attributes="member: 16069"><p>Quote:</p><p></p><p>May I just chip in and add my voice to those who enjoy these Story Hours, Goonalon. I'm quite a fan of the DCC adventures and I own a few of the ones that you've run (Dragonfiend Pact, Legend of the Ripper, Mysterious Tower) so I'm interested in how your experiences turn out.</p><p></p><p>I'm liking the style, which makes a nice change from some of the more portentous and prose dense story hours out there (although the lightness of touch, especially in the Lost Boys, is disturbingly at odds with Brad Durif's baleful glare in your avatar).</p><p></p><p>Reply:</p><p></p><p>Brad Durif for me is the Doc of Deadwood, a kindly soul that dispenses homilies and medication in equal amounts, also I believe Wyrmtongue, or whatever his name was, is a misunderstood character that just needed a little more TLC than Saruman had to offer.</p><p></p><p>Quote:</p><p></p><p>Anyway, Dragonfiend Pact is a nice little adventure, especially for the price (One of our English Pounds). Like you I found that re-adjusting the stats upon shrinkage took a while (but that was before I started writing the Lazy GM books, I can probably quote size change effects off by heart now).</p><p></p><p>Looks to me like Blackspine has the potential for a recurring character - any plans?</p><p></p><p>Reply:</p><p></p><p>Maybe, I can't really say, that's how it is when the players sometimes come here (the SH) in search of clues, and also to ensure their characters got the odd half-decent line.</p><p></p><p>Thanks for the comments, always a pleasure.</p><p></p><p>And so...</p><p></p><p>Oh and I can't do those quote things, if some kind person would kindly tell me the secret, well... I'll write you in to the story.</p><p></p><p>Turn 37: Freddy and the…</p><p></p><p>Anya sits on Bec’s knee, he dandles her a while, she smiles and grins- the sound of her laughter is sweet soothing music.</p><p></p><p>Bec switches tack, a rougher ride on his lap, plays horsey- over the high hurdles- Anya jumps up and down on his lap- giggling furiously, gulping for air.</p><p></p><p>Bec shuts his eyes.</p><p></p><p>Then opens them again, and sitting on his lap is not Anya but the largest half-Man half-Rat type creature he has ever seen, actually he’s never seen one before and so the title is undisputed.</p><p></p><p>The creature stares hard at him.</p><p></p><p>Unblinking.</p><p></p><p>Bec ceases the horsey ride, a little embarrassed.</p><p></p><p>Then with lightning speed the creature lurches down and bites him in the face, and tugs- Bec screams. The creature comes away with a gobbet of flesh dangling from its blood-soaked mouth. Bec’s eye mid-section of the flopping piece of flesh- the creature gobbles the snack down.</p><p></p><p>Bec stares, in mono-vision.</p><p></p><p>But does nothing to prevent the second bite.</p><p></p><p>It goes dark.</p><p></p><p>And he’s awake.</p><p></p><p>And still in the Church of Pelor, over the way Jim tosses and turns, mumbles in his sleep.</p><p></p><p>Ala’s bed is empty.</p><p></p><p>Back in the Wheatsheaf Inn Cas and Ala enjoy their first night together. Ala’s fever broke three days ago but it was only today that she was allowed to leave the Church, declared fit for action.</p><p></p><p>Their silhouettes move together, caught in shadow on the thin curtains, outside a driver clicks his tongue and a coach and horses moves off from its position directly outside of the window.</p><p></p><p>Inside the dark coach Lady Arabella drums her fingers on an ornate lacquered rosewood armrest.</p><p></p><p>“Keep an eye on them.”</p><p></p><p>She whispers, to a previously unseen, and still, shadowy figure.</p><p></p><p>Back in the Church Bec wanders out of his prison for the last two weeks, goes in search of… well, a sandwich.</p><p></p><p>He finds the kitchen quickly and sets to- bread is introduced to butter, quite a lot of it actually, then to Jam- thick Apricot, then gets acquainted with Cheese, a smelly Dwarven Ched-Dar, which then makes friends with a layer of Gnomish Pickle, which in turn… and on it goes.</p><p></p><p>The construct is at least six inches high when complete.</p><p></p><p>Bec’s heavy hands scoop the creation up, expertly, he swivels the sandwich in his hands- looking for the best point of attack.</p><p></p><p>CHOMP</p><p></p><p>He chews.</p><p></p><p>And chews.</p><p></p><p>And chews.</p><p></p><p>And…</p><p></p><p>Chews.</p><p></p><p>And then straining hard swallows.</p><p></p><p>Then wipes his mouth leaving, momentarily, a sticky trail down the back of his hand and arm, he licks the residue off.</p><p></p><p>“Bloody lovely. I wonder what’s in the paper.”</p><p></p><p>He takes another huge bite, and then wanders off to see if he can hunt the Grimbo Graph, the local newspaper, down.</p><p></p><p>Whereas…</p><p></p><p>Jim is running through the woods, pell-mell, helter-skelter, trees and branches come and go- to be avoided, he whizzes past them, ducking, diving- clawing his way onwards- racing.</p><p></p><p>Not daring to look behind him.</p><p></p><p>He can hear his pursuer.</p><p></p><p>Gaining.</p><p></p><p>He wakes, stares around him for a moment, alone, he claws the air, goes to speak- but no sound comes out, his eyes blink rapidly and…</p><p></p><p>He runs on.</p><p></p><p>A wolf howls, far away, in the distance, not behind him though, not chasing him.</p><p></p><p>A fallen log, he spots it too late, leaps, catches his right foot, flies forward, out of control, lands hard and sprawls upon the cold damp earth.</p><p></p><p>And his pursuer is on him, knelt on his back, pushing him down, hands on the back of his head, pressing his face into the dirt, he can’t breath, can’t breath, can’t breath.</p><p></p><p>He throws all his strength into his turn, wrenches himself around, spins over to face his pursuer.</p><p></p><p>Mischa grins down at him.</p><p></p><p>Night turns into day in an instance, then to night again, and to day again, and on and on- time strobes by.</p><p></p><p>And leaves no trace on Mischa’s features, she’s as beautiful as ever.</p><p></p><p>Jim tries to rise, but is staggered by Mischa’s weight, he clamps his hands on the ground either side of him, levers to lift himself up, he heaves.</p><p></p><p>Then mid-lift he stops to look at the backs of his hands- gnarled and crooked, liver spots and scar tissue, he’s ancient- he collapses, gulps for breath.</p><p></p><p>And wakes again.</p><p></p><p>The door to his chamber opens.</p><p></p><p>A large lumbering shadowy figure lurches in, an Ogre by the look of the thing, licking its lips with glee.</p><p></p><p>Jim flings himself back, still breathing hard- ragged gasps, he tries to get away from the creature, pressed hard against the wall.</p><p></p><p>The thing bobs down to his level and moves closer, hands out towards Jim, petrified he cannot scream.</p><p></p><p>The remnants of a less than savoury looking sandwich hoves into view, then the rest of a grinning mustard, jam and pickle plastered Bec.</p><p></p><p>“Sandwich?”</p><p></p><p>Bec offers.</p><p></p><p>Gingerly Jim takes a nibble.</p><p></p><p>“Jam and cheese?” The Ranger pulls a face.</p><p></p><p>Bec nods, wise in the ways of sandwich making.</p><p></p><p>Two weeks later and everything is as normal, all of the Goodman Gang are staying in the Wheatsheaf Inn, things have been Identified, sold and bought, including mounts for all of them, even Newt, who is the proud owner of a somewhat cantankerous Mule called “Dobbin.”</p><p></p><p>Arabella sends several invitations to Cas, on the pretence of attending various Balls and Galas but the Paladin is not playing, most nights are early nights, it seems he and Ala are really good friends at last.</p><p></p><p>Newt is making friends; he’s now a regular on the Nunny, a minor personality, not dangerous, but not to be messed with, the latter mainly because of his sometime companion Bec. </p><p></p><p>The fool Barbarian goes as far as to foil a bag-snatcher on one occasion, much to the Gnome’s chagrin, fortunately it turns out the felon was unregistered and so no action is taken by The Nunny- he even receives a small reward. Newt leaves Bec at home when he can, sneaks out of the Inn if he has to.</p><p></p><p>Anya throws herself into her studies, there’s no such thing as spare time with Anya- she’s making a name for herself in the Department of Magics, at Grimbo College, Professor Nudge Toomes can clearly see her potential.</p><p></p><p>For the others- and particularly Bec and Jim, having spent the best part of three weeks lying on the backsides, time passes very slowly indeed- they’re bored.</p><p></p><p>And so it’s a blessed relief when Father Whiskin appears one morning at the Wheatsheaf, out of breath and with quite a story to tell.</p><p></p><p>Next Turn: Catch Up.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Goonalan, post: 3838679, member: 16069"] Quote: May I just chip in and add my voice to those who enjoy these Story Hours, Goonalon. I'm quite a fan of the DCC adventures and I own a few of the ones that you've run (Dragonfiend Pact, Legend of the Ripper, Mysterious Tower) so I'm interested in how your experiences turn out. I'm liking the style, which makes a nice change from some of the more portentous and prose dense story hours out there (although the lightness of touch, especially in the Lost Boys, is disturbingly at odds with Brad Durif's baleful glare in your avatar). Reply: Brad Durif for me is the Doc of Deadwood, a kindly soul that dispenses homilies and medication in equal amounts, also I believe Wyrmtongue, or whatever his name was, is a misunderstood character that just needed a little more TLC than Saruman had to offer. Quote: Anyway, Dragonfiend Pact is a nice little adventure, especially for the price (One of our English Pounds). Like you I found that re-adjusting the stats upon shrinkage took a while (but that was before I started writing the Lazy GM books, I can probably quote size change effects off by heart now). Looks to me like Blackspine has the potential for a recurring character - any plans? Reply: Maybe, I can't really say, that's how it is when the players sometimes come here (the SH) in search of clues, and also to ensure their characters got the odd half-decent line. Thanks for the comments, always a pleasure. And so... Oh and I can't do those quote things, if some kind person would kindly tell me the secret, well... I'll write you in to the story. Turn 37: Freddy and the… Anya sits on Bec’s knee, he dandles her a while, she smiles and grins- the sound of her laughter is sweet soothing music. Bec switches tack, a rougher ride on his lap, plays horsey- over the high hurdles- Anya jumps up and down on his lap- giggling furiously, gulping for air. Bec shuts his eyes. Then opens them again, and sitting on his lap is not Anya but the largest half-Man half-Rat type creature he has ever seen, actually he’s never seen one before and so the title is undisputed. The creature stares hard at him. Unblinking. Bec ceases the horsey ride, a little embarrassed. Then with lightning speed the creature lurches down and bites him in the face, and tugs- Bec screams. The creature comes away with a gobbet of flesh dangling from its blood-soaked mouth. Bec’s eye mid-section of the flopping piece of flesh- the creature gobbles the snack down. Bec stares, in mono-vision. But does nothing to prevent the second bite. It goes dark. And he’s awake. And still in the Church of Pelor, over the way Jim tosses and turns, mumbles in his sleep. Ala’s bed is empty. Back in the Wheatsheaf Inn Cas and Ala enjoy their first night together. Ala’s fever broke three days ago but it was only today that she was allowed to leave the Church, declared fit for action. Their silhouettes move together, caught in shadow on the thin curtains, outside a driver clicks his tongue and a coach and horses moves off from its position directly outside of the window. Inside the dark coach Lady Arabella drums her fingers on an ornate lacquered rosewood armrest. “Keep an eye on them.” She whispers, to a previously unseen, and still, shadowy figure. Back in the Church Bec wanders out of his prison for the last two weeks, goes in search of… well, a sandwich. He finds the kitchen quickly and sets to- bread is introduced to butter, quite a lot of it actually, then to Jam- thick Apricot, then gets acquainted with Cheese, a smelly Dwarven Ched-Dar, which then makes friends with a layer of Gnomish Pickle, which in turn… and on it goes. The construct is at least six inches high when complete. Bec’s heavy hands scoop the creation up, expertly, he swivels the sandwich in his hands- looking for the best point of attack. CHOMP He chews. And chews. And chews. And… Chews. And then straining hard swallows. Then wipes his mouth leaving, momentarily, a sticky trail down the back of his hand and arm, he licks the residue off. “Bloody lovely. I wonder what’s in the paper.” He takes another huge bite, and then wanders off to see if he can hunt the Grimbo Graph, the local newspaper, down. Whereas… Jim is running through the woods, pell-mell, helter-skelter, trees and branches come and go- to be avoided, he whizzes past them, ducking, diving- clawing his way onwards- racing. Not daring to look behind him. He can hear his pursuer. Gaining. He wakes, stares around him for a moment, alone, he claws the air, goes to speak- but no sound comes out, his eyes blink rapidly and… He runs on. A wolf howls, far away, in the distance, not behind him though, not chasing him. A fallen log, he spots it too late, leaps, catches his right foot, flies forward, out of control, lands hard and sprawls upon the cold damp earth. And his pursuer is on him, knelt on his back, pushing him down, hands on the back of his head, pressing his face into the dirt, he can’t breath, can’t breath, can’t breath. He throws all his strength into his turn, wrenches himself around, spins over to face his pursuer. Mischa grins down at him. Night turns into day in an instance, then to night again, and to day again, and on and on- time strobes by. And leaves no trace on Mischa’s features, she’s as beautiful as ever. Jim tries to rise, but is staggered by Mischa’s weight, he clamps his hands on the ground either side of him, levers to lift himself up, he heaves. Then mid-lift he stops to look at the backs of his hands- gnarled and crooked, liver spots and scar tissue, he’s ancient- he collapses, gulps for breath. And wakes again. The door to his chamber opens. A large lumbering shadowy figure lurches in, an Ogre by the look of the thing, licking its lips with glee. Jim flings himself back, still breathing hard- ragged gasps, he tries to get away from the creature, pressed hard against the wall. The thing bobs down to his level and moves closer, hands out towards Jim, petrified he cannot scream. The remnants of a less than savoury looking sandwich hoves into view, then the rest of a grinning mustard, jam and pickle plastered Bec. “Sandwich?” Bec offers. Gingerly Jim takes a nibble. “Jam and cheese?” The Ranger pulls a face. Bec nods, wise in the ways of sandwich making. Two weeks later and everything is as normal, all of the Goodman Gang are staying in the Wheatsheaf Inn, things have been Identified, sold and bought, including mounts for all of them, even Newt, who is the proud owner of a somewhat cantankerous Mule called “Dobbin.” Arabella sends several invitations to Cas, on the pretence of attending various Balls and Galas but the Paladin is not playing, most nights are early nights, it seems he and Ala are really good friends at last. Newt is making friends; he’s now a regular on the Nunny, a minor personality, not dangerous, but not to be messed with, the latter mainly because of his sometime companion Bec. The fool Barbarian goes as far as to foil a bag-snatcher on one occasion, much to the Gnome’s chagrin, fortunately it turns out the felon was unregistered and so no action is taken by The Nunny- he even receives a small reward. Newt leaves Bec at home when he can, sneaks out of the Inn if he has to. Anya throws herself into her studies, there’s no such thing as spare time with Anya- she’s making a name for herself in the Department of Magics, at Grimbo College, Professor Nudge Toomes can clearly see her potential. For the others- and particularly Bec and Jim, having spent the best part of three weeks lying on the backsides, time passes very slowly indeed- they’re bored. And so it’s a blessed relief when Father Whiskin appears one morning at the Wheatsheaf, out of breath and with quite a story to tell. Next Turn: Catch Up. [/QUOTE]
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