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Story Hour
The Goodman Gang in The Mysterious Tower
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<blockquote data-quote="Goonalan" data-source="post: 4112949" data-attributes="member: 16069"><p style="text-align: center">Dungeon Crawl Classic #3</p> <p style="text-align: center">The Mysterious Tower</p> <p style="text-align: center">Level 3-5</p><p></p><p>Turn 91: Scat Bad.</p><p></p><p>“Scat freewnd. Beekul all BURp gown.” Scat shuffles over to the Jim, strokes the Ranger with a stray tentacle.</p><p>“That’s very nice Scat. Arrugah all gone too, well apart from Moma and the kids, you’re free to go.” Jim states.</p><p></p><p>Scat looks astonished, although how anyone can tell- he hasn’t got the most expressive of faces, and besides he’s covered in bum dung.</p><p></p><p>“Blbbllebbblleelbbe.” Or something like that, the Otyugh is clearly beyond words, certainly excited.</p><p></p><p>Scat thrashes his tentacles wildly and rushes off through the eastern door.</p><p></p><p>The Goodman Gang break for supper, prior to checking out the southern passage, it’s been a long day so far but after a string of victories, and against what should have proved to be incredibly tough foes, the group settle down for a well earned rest.</p><p></p><p>“What have you got?” Newt mithers Jim.</p><p>“I think its fish paste.” Jim looks unhappy and unsure; the sandwiches from the Inn are not up to much.</p><p>“MMmmm.” Newt examines the contents of his sandwich, it looks like…</p><p>“What I wouldn’t give for some Magic Smash right now.” The Rogue states.</p><p>“Mmmm Magic Smash”, Anya confirms.</p><p></p><p>WHAM</p><p></p><p>The door explodes, Scat is back in the room, he smells of Bar-b-q, to be precise Bar-b-qed Owlbear.</p><p></p><p>“Jeerm tha door is openink. I’m three, three at lask, three at lask, thank Jeeerm I’m three at lask.”</p><p></p><p>Scat waddles over, towards the Ranger, he seems to be puckering up, set to kiss Jim.</p><p></p><p>“Ahem, Scat.” Jim leaps to his feet and backs away, “Scat, we have further need of your services, as payment for your freedom perhaps.”</p><p></p><p>Scat opens his eyes, shuffles to a halt.</p><p></p><p>“Ask I am yure fatfull freewnd.”</p><p>“We need you to guard our backs again, stay here- we’re heading south, down the other passage, we don’t want anything creeping up on us in the mean time. Can you do that?” Jim asks.</p><p>“It wood be may onor fweend Jerm.” Scatt flutters his eyelids, he has no eyelashes.</p><p></p><p>The Goodman Gang get ready for further exploration, check straps, belts, buckles- ready for the fight.</p><p></p><p>“Jerm.” Scat croons.</p><p>“What Scat?”</p><p>“Jerm, can I be Bad?”</p><p>The Ranger looks confused. “Bad?”</p><p>“Yes. Bad.”</p><p>He looks more confused. “Bad?”</p><p>“Yeeeees. Bad.”</p><p>“Bad?” Jim enquires.</p><p>Anya’s had enough.</p><p></p><p>“Scat what do you mean by Bad? We don’t understand.”</p><p>“Bad- like singy of songy’s.”</p><p>Jim looks, more confused- his usual self, there one and the same.</p><p>“Singy of songy’s?” Jim repeats.</p><p>“You mean a Bard?” Anya asks.</p><p>“Yeth. Yeth. Bad.”</p><p>“I suppose.” Jim shrugs.</p><p>“Is dat it- am I Bad now?” Scat wonders.</p><p>“You need to learn some songs, sorry songy’s, I guess, then you’re Bard, sorry a Bard, sorry a Bad… Bad, whatever.” Jim moves out of the chamber, the others follow after.</p><p>“Then I Bad?” Scat calls after him.</p><p>“Yep. Why not.” Jim calls back.</p><p></p><p>The southern passage splits again, continues south or diverts east, Jim leads them south and into a 30-by-30 room littered with broken weapons and overturned weapon racks. It clearly used to be an armoury. It’s been disturbed fairly recently, as evidenced by the clawed tracks on the dusty floor.</p><p></p><p>“Don’t worry, their Scat’s tracks, and an Owlbear, but that was some time ago.” Jim mooches about the chamber, the others likewise, with Cas at the door to keep an eye out for anything untoward.</p><p></p><p>The armoury is a dump, there’s not a serviceable item left in it, what isn’t bent or broken is rusted almost to dust.</p><p></p><p>“I need some treasure.” Newt states, a whisper loud enough for all the Gang to hear, which is exactly as he intended.</p><p>“We’re here to rescue the Wizard’s Ghost, in the hope that he will help us to fathom what’s going on.” Cas is vehement, “we’re not here for treasure.”</p><p>“What keeps you awake at night is none of my business tin man, that’s between you and your conscience, you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders because you put it there… You fool. I’m happy as I am, just show me the money.” Newt shrugs and wanders away from the Paladin.</p><p>“Why you…” Cas starts.</p><p>“Come on, let’s try the passage east.” Jim states.</p><p></p><p>The Gang move on, head east and then south, Jim and Newt in the front rank, Cas and Ala at the back, not that she’s particularly talking to him.</p><p></p><p>The 10-foot wide passageway is different to the last, the nature of the stonework changes. Whereas before it was well designed by someone who clearly knew their craft, it’s now rougher and much less precise. The stones are held together with a crumbling mortar that seems to barely stay together. In fact, it seems ancient. </p><p></p><p>Ahead is an archway, also designed in the ancient, more homely style of stonework. A crude symbol of a kneeling figure is carved into the stone above the arch, further down the hallway is another, similar, arch.</p><p></p><p>“Odd- it’s Meelkor, I think.” Cas explains.</p><p>“What is?” Ala asks.</p><p>“The old man, ancient saint, I think. There used to be a statue of him near the common refectory, the lacquer had completely gone from his backside.” Cas finshes.</p><p>“What?” Anya and Ala state in unison, and then share a look.</p><p>“Don’t know really, he was something to do with the common man, although they used to call him, ‘kiss my arse Meelkor.’”</p><p>“Why?” Jim gets in on the action.</p><p>“Why what?”</p><p>“Why did they call him ‘kiss my arse…’, whatever?” Jim enquires.</p><p>“Because that’s what they used to do- kiss his arse, the statue’s arse that is.” Cas simply states, but that proves to be still too little.</p><p>“Why? Why’d they kiss his arse?”</p><p>“Don’t know, I think it was supposed to be lucky. Not sure really. He was an ugly old bugger, face like a, well… a cow’s backside, stooped with a walking stick.”</p><p></p><p>Cas leads off, the others, a little perplexed, follow on.</p><p></p><p>More or less everybody spots that Cas has now retaken his old position, as leader of the Goodman Gang, everyone in fact except Jim, who mutters to himself- “kiss my arse Meelkor”, shrugs and trots to catch up.</p><p></p><p>Further down the hall Cas leads the Gang through the second archway, similar to the first. Thirty feet past it the crumbling old walls have collapsed in a cave-in that blocks the hallway. A huge pile of stone and dirt reaches almost to the ceiling, there’s a tiny space at the top just big enough for someone small to take a look.</p><p></p><p>“Newt, if you would be so kind?” Cas asks.</p><p>“Yours to command, master.” Newt quickly loops a length or rope around his waist, throws the tail-end to Bec, who grabs hold, and scuttles up the rocky incline, and in seconds is gone from sight.</p><p></p><p>Thirty seconds tick by.</p><p></p><p>“Are you…” Cas starts.</p><p>“Fine. No Ghouls to report, the passage carries on a while, I think there’s a larger chamber ahead, I didn’t bother scoping it out, I figured I shouldn’t get too far ahead of you.” Newt states and clambers back through the hole.</p><p></p><p>“I think we’re going to have to clear it, at least half of it, we don’t want to get stuck the other side.” Cas states.</p><p>Nobody looks pleased at the prospect, its going to be back-breaking work.</p><p>“Alright.” Bec adds, and begins to haul a rock away.</p><p>“Unless… hang on a moment.” Jim rushes back the way they came.</p><p></p><p>He’s gone for about two minutes, and when he returns he’s not alone.</p><p></p><p>Here comes Scat, eager to help out, he skips, sort of, down the passageway.</p><p></p><p>The Otyugh sets too, hauling rock, rubble and dirt out the way with its huge paddle-ended tentacles. Jim grins, it spreads- infectious, Cas settles for a half-hearted smile. The Goodman Gang join in; many hands (and tentacles) make light work.</p><p></p><p>“Jewm?” Scat whines a little.</p><p>“Yes Scat.”</p><p>“I’ve fort of a songy- can I singy it fur yew?”</p><p>“’Kay.” Jim nods.</p><p></p><p>Nothing happens for a while.</p><p></p><p>“Scat, are you going to singy for us?” Jim asks.</p><p>“Yes. Onlee I onlee got tha korus. It not goody. Not Bad enuff.”</p><p>“No matter, let’s hear it.” Jim encourages.</p><p></p><p>Nothing happens for a while longer.</p><p></p><p>“Scat. The song?”</p><p>“I’m embarrassed.”</p><p>“There’s no need…”</p><p>“It’s quite… loud.”</p><p>“That’s ok, we’re making a fair amount of noise as it is, whatever’s the other side has heard us already.” Jim shrugs.</p><p>“Oh. Ok. Jewm?”</p><p>“Yes Scat.” Jim straightens, stops work to stare at the Otyugh.</p><p>“It’s a bitty fast.”</p><p>Jim nods, “let’s hear it then.”</p><p>“’Kay.”</p><p></p><p>Nothing happens for a second, well except that Scat takes in huge lungfuls of air, like he’s filling up, and sure enough he seems to be getting bigger, inflating.</p><p></p><p>“Scat?” Jim worries.</p><p>“S’okay.” Scat quickly squeaks, trying not to let the air out.</p><p></p><p>Then, “S’reddy.” The Otyugh squeaks again, Jim nods, the other members of the Gang stop what they are doing, aware they are about to witness some sort of momentous occasion, fingers crossed- here’s hoping Scat doesn’t explode, he’s looking particularly taut.</p><p></p><p>Fart-FART-FART-Trump-Parp-FART.</p><p></p><p>The noise builds, and gets faster, and there is a tune in there, although it’s very deep, rumbling drums accompanied by a whole orchestra of throbbing, throbbing sounds.</p><p></p><p>It gets faster still, and louder.</p><p></p><p>Scat is able to keep up the noise, some sort of circular breathing method, it quickly becomes a wall of sound which echoes off the passage walls, small piles of loose debris topple, the sonic vibrations cause cascades of dirt to spill from the ceiling.</p><p></p><p>“I thought you were going to sin…” Jim starts.</p><p></p><p>“Cum krawlin fasta </p><p>obey yure Masta </p><p>yure lyfe berns fasta </p><p>obey yure Masta</p><p>MASTA.”</p><p></p><p>A farting drum roll and parp solo rocks the chamber.</p><p></p><p>“I…” Jim starts.</p><p> </p><p>”Masta of Poppets I'm pullin yure stings </p><p>twistin yure mynd an smushin yure dreeems </p><p>Bungee buy me, yew carnt seek a ding </p><p>Jus kall me naym, `cos isle hare yew scram </p><p>MASTA </p><p>MASTA</p><p></p><p>Jus kall me naym, `cos isle hare yew scram </p><p>MASTA </p><p>MASTA.”</p><p></p><p>The last ‘MASTA’, brings a lump of stone crashing down from the ceiling, it lands six inches to the side of Jim, who doesn’t move a muscle, it would have crushed him.</p><p></p><p>Silence.</p><p></p><p>Apart from the hiss as showers of dirt shower down, cover the shocked statues of the Goodman Gang.</p><p></p><p>“Jerm?” Scat asks.</p><p>“Very…” Jim starts.</p><p>“VERY…” Cas adds.</p><p>“Good.” Jim finishes.</p><p>“Or rather, Bad.” Anya corrects.</p><p></p><p>“What’s it called?” Bec asks.</p><p>The others turn to stare at the Barbarian, he’s grinning, his hairs gone all lank, he’s sweating profusely; he also looks a little googly-eyed.</p><p></p><p>“It’s called ‘Masta of Poppets.’, did you like it?” Scat replies, and smiles back, hopeful.</p><p>“Yeah- it was…” Bec goes on a long mental journey in search of the right word, spots the huge stone on the ground, “Rocking.” Ah, that’s it.</p><p></p><p>“What’s a Poppet?” Newt enquires.</p><p>“Yew ar my luvvely.” Scat snakes a friendly tentacle around the Gnome and gives him a squeeze, Newt doesn’t look so sure.</p><p></p><p>“Right then. Good. Let’s get on.” Cas gets them back on task.</p><p>“Shall I…” Scat starts.</p><p>“Save your energy. I mean- later.” Jim winks at Scat.</p><p></p><p>In less than ten minutes the blockage is clear enough for the gang to head on through without too much fuss.</p><p></p><p>“You’ve been a big help Scat.” Jim pats the Otyugh.</p><p>Scat blushes, “Owwww.” He’s embarrassed.</p><p>“Right then, you should head back; remember you’re on guard duty, no slacking.” Jim pats the creature some more.</p><p></p><p>The Gang begin to filter through, into the passage beyond, Scat waving them off with all three of his tentacles flapping.</p><p></p><p>Next Turn: Coffin fit.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Goonalan, post: 4112949, member: 16069"] [CENTER]Dungeon Crawl Classic #3 The Mysterious Tower Level 3-5[/CENTER] Turn 91: Scat Bad. “Scat freewnd. Beekul all BURp gown.” Scat shuffles over to the Jim, strokes the Ranger with a stray tentacle. “That’s very nice Scat. Arrugah all gone too, well apart from Moma and the kids, you’re free to go.” Jim states. Scat looks astonished, although how anyone can tell- he hasn’t got the most expressive of faces, and besides he’s covered in bum dung. “Blbbllebbblleelbbe.” Or something like that, the Otyugh is clearly beyond words, certainly excited. Scat thrashes his tentacles wildly and rushes off through the eastern door. The Goodman Gang break for supper, prior to checking out the southern passage, it’s been a long day so far but after a string of victories, and against what should have proved to be incredibly tough foes, the group settle down for a well earned rest. “What have you got?” Newt mithers Jim. “I think its fish paste.” Jim looks unhappy and unsure; the sandwiches from the Inn are not up to much. “MMmmm.” Newt examines the contents of his sandwich, it looks like… “What I wouldn’t give for some Magic Smash right now.” The Rogue states. “Mmmm Magic Smash”, Anya confirms. WHAM The door explodes, Scat is back in the room, he smells of Bar-b-q, to be precise Bar-b-qed Owlbear. “Jeerm tha door is openink. I’m three, three at lask, three at lask, thank Jeeerm I’m three at lask.” Scat waddles over, towards the Ranger, he seems to be puckering up, set to kiss Jim. “Ahem, Scat.” Jim leaps to his feet and backs away, “Scat, we have further need of your services, as payment for your freedom perhaps.” Scat opens his eyes, shuffles to a halt. “Ask I am yure fatfull freewnd.” “We need you to guard our backs again, stay here- we’re heading south, down the other passage, we don’t want anything creeping up on us in the mean time. Can you do that?” Jim asks. “It wood be may onor fweend Jerm.” Scatt flutters his eyelids, he has no eyelashes. The Goodman Gang get ready for further exploration, check straps, belts, buckles- ready for the fight. “Jerm.” Scat croons. “What Scat?” “Jerm, can I be Bad?” The Ranger looks confused. “Bad?” “Yes. Bad.” He looks more confused. “Bad?” “Yeeeees. Bad.” “Bad?” Jim enquires. Anya’s had enough. “Scat what do you mean by Bad? We don’t understand.” “Bad- like singy of songy’s.” Jim looks, more confused- his usual self, there one and the same. “Singy of songy’s?” Jim repeats. “You mean a Bard?” Anya asks. “Yeth. Yeth. Bad.” “I suppose.” Jim shrugs. “Is dat it- am I Bad now?” Scat wonders. “You need to learn some songs, sorry songy’s, I guess, then you’re Bard, sorry a Bard, sorry a Bad… Bad, whatever.” Jim moves out of the chamber, the others follow after. “Then I Bad?” Scat calls after him. “Yep. Why not.” Jim calls back. The southern passage splits again, continues south or diverts east, Jim leads them south and into a 30-by-30 room littered with broken weapons and overturned weapon racks. It clearly used to be an armoury. It’s been disturbed fairly recently, as evidenced by the clawed tracks on the dusty floor. “Don’t worry, their Scat’s tracks, and an Owlbear, but that was some time ago.” Jim mooches about the chamber, the others likewise, with Cas at the door to keep an eye out for anything untoward. The armoury is a dump, there’s not a serviceable item left in it, what isn’t bent or broken is rusted almost to dust. “I need some treasure.” Newt states, a whisper loud enough for all the Gang to hear, which is exactly as he intended. “We’re here to rescue the Wizard’s Ghost, in the hope that he will help us to fathom what’s going on.” Cas is vehement, “we’re not here for treasure.” “What keeps you awake at night is none of my business tin man, that’s between you and your conscience, you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders because you put it there… You fool. I’m happy as I am, just show me the money.” Newt shrugs and wanders away from the Paladin. “Why you…” Cas starts. “Come on, let’s try the passage east.” Jim states. The Gang move on, head east and then south, Jim and Newt in the front rank, Cas and Ala at the back, not that she’s particularly talking to him. The 10-foot wide passageway is different to the last, the nature of the stonework changes. Whereas before it was well designed by someone who clearly knew their craft, it’s now rougher and much less precise. The stones are held together with a crumbling mortar that seems to barely stay together. In fact, it seems ancient. Ahead is an archway, also designed in the ancient, more homely style of stonework. A crude symbol of a kneeling figure is carved into the stone above the arch, further down the hallway is another, similar, arch. “Odd- it’s Meelkor, I think.” Cas explains. “What is?” Ala asks. “The old man, ancient saint, I think. There used to be a statue of him near the common refectory, the lacquer had completely gone from his backside.” Cas finshes. “What?” Anya and Ala state in unison, and then share a look. “Don’t know really, he was something to do with the common man, although they used to call him, ‘kiss my arse Meelkor.’” “Why?” Jim gets in on the action. “Why what?” “Why did they call him ‘kiss my arse…’, whatever?” Jim enquires. “Because that’s what they used to do- kiss his arse, the statue’s arse that is.” Cas simply states, but that proves to be still too little. “Why? Why’d they kiss his arse?” “Don’t know, I think it was supposed to be lucky. Not sure really. He was an ugly old bugger, face like a, well… a cow’s backside, stooped with a walking stick.” Cas leads off, the others, a little perplexed, follow on. More or less everybody spots that Cas has now retaken his old position, as leader of the Goodman Gang, everyone in fact except Jim, who mutters to himself- “kiss my arse Meelkor”, shrugs and trots to catch up. Further down the hall Cas leads the Gang through the second archway, similar to the first. Thirty feet past it the crumbling old walls have collapsed in a cave-in that blocks the hallway. A huge pile of stone and dirt reaches almost to the ceiling, there’s a tiny space at the top just big enough for someone small to take a look. “Newt, if you would be so kind?” Cas asks. “Yours to command, master.” Newt quickly loops a length or rope around his waist, throws the tail-end to Bec, who grabs hold, and scuttles up the rocky incline, and in seconds is gone from sight. Thirty seconds tick by. “Are you…” Cas starts. “Fine. No Ghouls to report, the passage carries on a while, I think there’s a larger chamber ahead, I didn’t bother scoping it out, I figured I shouldn’t get too far ahead of you.” Newt states and clambers back through the hole. “I think we’re going to have to clear it, at least half of it, we don’t want to get stuck the other side.” Cas states. Nobody looks pleased at the prospect, its going to be back-breaking work. “Alright.” Bec adds, and begins to haul a rock away. “Unless… hang on a moment.” Jim rushes back the way they came. He’s gone for about two minutes, and when he returns he’s not alone. Here comes Scat, eager to help out, he skips, sort of, down the passageway. The Otyugh sets too, hauling rock, rubble and dirt out the way with its huge paddle-ended tentacles. Jim grins, it spreads- infectious, Cas settles for a half-hearted smile. The Goodman Gang join in; many hands (and tentacles) make light work. “Jewm?” Scat whines a little. “Yes Scat.” “I’ve fort of a songy- can I singy it fur yew?” “’Kay.” Jim nods. Nothing happens for a while. “Scat, are you going to singy for us?” Jim asks. “Yes. Onlee I onlee got tha korus. It not goody. Not Bad enuff.” “No matter, let’s hear it.” Jim encourages. Nothing happens for a while longer. “Scat. The song?” “I’m embarrassed.” “There’s no need…” “It’s quite… loud.” “That’s ok, we’re making a fair amount of noise as it is, whatever’s the other side has heard us already.” Jim shrugs. “Oh. Ok. Jewm?” “Yes Scat.” Jim straightens, stops work to stare at the Otyugh. “It’s a bitty fast.” Jim nods, “let’s hear it then.” “’Kay.” Nothing happens for a second, well except that Scat takes in huge lungfuls of air, like he’s filling up, and sure enough he seems to be getting bigger, inflating. “Scat?” Jim worries. “S’okay.” Scat quickly squeaks, trying not to let the air out. Then, “S’reddy.” The Otyugh squeaks again, Jim nods, the other members of the Gang stop what they are doing, aware they are about to witness some sort of momentous occasion, fingers crossed- here’s hoping Scat doesn’t explode, he’s looking particularly taut. Fart-FART-FART-Trump-Parp-FART. The noise builds, and gets faster, and there is a tune in there, although it’s very deep, rumbling drums accompanied by a whole orchestra of throbbing, throbbing sounds. It gets faster still, and louder. Scat is able to keep up the noise, some sort of circular breathing method, it quickly becomes a wall of sound which echoes off the passage walls, small piles of loose debris topple, the sonic vibrations cause cascades of dirt to spill from the ceiling. “I thought you were going to sin…” Jim starts. “Cum krawlin fasta obey yure Masta yure lyfe berns fasta obey yure Masta MASTA.” A farting drum roll and parp solo rocks the chamber. “I…” Jim starts. ”Masta of Poppets I'm pullin yure stings twistin yure mynd an smushin yure dreeems Bungee buy me, yew carnt seek a ding Jus kall me naym, `cos isle hare yew scram MASTA MASTA Jus kall me naym, `cos isle hare yew scram MASTA MASTA.” The last ‘MASTA’, brings a lump of stone crashing down from the ceiling, it lands six inches to the side of Jim, who doesn’t move a muscle, it would have crushed him. Silence. Apart from the hiss as showers of dirt shower down, cover the shocked statues of the Goodman Gang. “Jerm?” Scat asks. “Very…” Jim starts. “VERY…” Cas adds. “Good.” Jim finishes. “Or rather, Bad.” Anya corrects. “What’s it called?” Bec asks. The others turn to stare at the Barbarian, he’s grinning, his hairs gone all lank, he’s sweating profusely; he also looks a little googly-eyed. “It’s called ‘Masta of Poppets.’, did you like it?” Scat replies, and smiles back, hopeful. “Yeah- it was…” Bec goes on a long mental journey in search of the right word, spots the huge stone on the ground, “Rocking.” Ah, that’s it. “What’s a Poppet?” Newt enquires. “Yew ar my luvvely.” Scat snakes a friendly tentacle around the Gnome and gives him a squeeze, Newt doesn’t look so sure. “Right then. Good. Let’s get on.” Cas gets them back on task. “Shall I…” Scat starts. “Save your energy. I mean- later.” Jim winks at Scat. In less than ten minutes the blockage is clear enough for the gang to head on through without too much fuss. “You’ve been a big help Scat.” Jim pats the Otyugh. Scat blushes, “Owwww.” He’s embarrassed. “Right then, you should head back; remember you’re on guard duty, no slacking.” Jim pats the creature some more. The Gang begin to filter through, into the passage beyond, Scat waving them off with all three of his tentacles flapping. Next Turn: Coffin fit. [/QUOTE]
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