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the Jester's OLD story hour, UPDATED AT LAST!
- Thread starter the Jester
- Start date
Thanks for the updates!
the Jester
Legend
Beyond Anvar and Titus was a passageway, but the party was in no shape to face anything else after the fight, so they retreated. Horbin first cut out all the weird metal implants and then raised Anvar, who told them what had befallen him since the party last saw him: the clockwork steelship had sunk, and he and Titus had both been subdued by the horrors. They'd been implanted and made into clockwork servitors, subverted and controlled by the master that controlled all the clockwork insects.
"There's something there that it's worried about," Anvar told the party. "A powerful weapon against it. You must retrieve it before the master controller does!"
So the party set out, heading back to the cave. A few hours after leaving town they had found their way back to the area of the battle with Anvar and Titus, and past them- down the hall- was the tomb. It was unguarded; Titus and Anvar had almost gotten whatever it was their master had been after.
In the sarcophagus the party found treasure of great, great value- magic items of a sort virtually unknown to modern magic. There was a rod of quickening; there was a tome that taught Horbin the Improved Critical feat with his mace. A ring, too, and an orb...
The Orb of Green Fire.
This is the weapon. Krunkshank wins it when the party dices to divide up their loot. It measures some 5” in diameter and is made of electrum, chased with mithral runes and glyphs. Two large pentagonal emeralds are set into it. The orb constantly glows with eerie green faerie fire. It's pretty cool, and as he grasps it he learns its powers- including the ability to shoot a ray of green fire as an attack. He chooses not to reveal all its abilities, but it has several defensive powers as well.
"And then we came to meet you," says Horbin.
Next Time: Can the party convince Clambake not to return to the ship immediately? Can they help him, or is he doomed to become the Wraith-Captain?
"There's something there that it's worried about," Anvar told the party. "A powerful weapon against it. You must retrieve it before the master controller does!"
So the party set out, heading back to the cave. A few hours after leaving town they had found their way back to the area of the battle with Anvar and Titus, and past them- down the hall- was the tomb. It was unguarded; Titus and Anvar had almost gotten whatever it was their master had been after.
In the sarcophagus the party found treasure of great, great value- magic items of a sort virtually unknown to modern magic. There was a rod of quickening; there was a tome that taught Horbin the Improved Critical feat with his mace. A ring, too, and an orb...
The Orb of Green Fire.
This is the weapon. Krunkshank wins it when the party dices to divide up their loot. It measures some 5” in diameter and is made of electrum, chased with mithral runes and glyphs. Two large pentagonal emeralds are set into it. The orb constantly glows with eerie green faerie fire. It's pretty cool, and as he grasps it he learns its powers- including the ability to shoot a ray of green fire as an attack. He chooses not to reveal all its abilities, but it has several defensive powers as well.
"And then we came to meet you," says Horbin.
Next Time: Can the party convince Clambake not to return to the ship immediately? Can they help him, or is he doomed to become the Wraith-Captain?
Mathew_Freeman
First Post
Update please! Update! We want more stories of Captain Clambake!
the Jester
Legend
The Last King of Dorla went down fighting, his bloodline severed, the Orb his peoples' only hope, and he succeeded.
His last acts stopped the clockwork horrors- his, and the other Champions of Flesh Against Metal. One wielded a sword that will have many tales spun about it in later eons- Felix Optima Maxima, to be used by Lester the Elementalist at a future point. One wore the Organic Helm, destroyed in the end battle. And of course, the Orb of Green Fire that the King wielded in the final battle, that helped dissipate the terrible energies the horrors wielded, that helped the Fleshmage seal the gate to the far-off Isle of Horrors.
Even the Y-Chrechtor, later to be miscalled the lich E-Krektor by great heroes of an age to come, could not prevail against the forces that rallied to save sentient organic life from the brooding, malevolent entity called Master Control.
Then, as the last of his people laid his body in state in a hidden tomb, his Orb of Green Fire on his breast, the King of Dorla was at peace. He stirred when the horrors stirred, but he was dead; he could do nothing. Then the horrors were laid low again, by Malford and his motleys, with Felix Optima again active, and the orb pulsed with the shade's desire for use... but dead, he could do nothing. E-Krektor, Drow teacher and lich from time immemorial, was defeated again, laid low; Master Control was tied up in a virtual maze for a time. But only for a time, and as a backup system was activated on a great steelship, the shade yearned again to act, to take up arms... but dead, he could do nothing.
Krunkshank awakens, sweating, the dream fading from his mind as dreams do.
He looks around himself. He'd nodded off for a moment in the Drinking Dwarves, where he and his companions- including the cadaverously thin Captain Clambake, his eyes sunken into violet pits- were deciding on their next move. Clambake was protesting something...
"C'mon, arrh," Clambake continues, "we should get back t'sea. Arrr! The Wraith awaits!"
"Yeah, that's the problem," muttered Horbin, glancing at Droidi.
"Tell you what," persuades Krunkshank, "how about we take one more teensy-weensy little look around our land, explore maybe one more cave, and then we'll help you with your ship...?" He takes a deep pull from his tankard.
Clambake sighs deeply. "All right, then,"* he grumbles. "One more trip... inland. Then we're back to the Wraith!" He sips at his rum and thinks, Whether ye like it or not.
*Natural 20 on a Will save to let him do it... darn lucky, as you'll see!
His last acts stopped the clockwork horrors- his, and the other Champions of Flesh Against Metal. One wielded a sword that will have many tales spun about it in later eons- Felix Optima Maxima, to be used by Lester the Elementalist at a future point. One wore the Organic Helm, destroyed in the end battle. And of course, the Orb of Green Fire that the King wielded in the final battle, that helped dissipate the terrible energies the horrors wielded, that helped the Fleshmage seal the gate to the far-off Isle of Horrors.
Even the Y-Chrechtor, later to be miscalled the lich E-Krektor by great heroes of an age to come, could not prevail against the forces that rallied to save sentient organic life from the brooding, malevolent entity called Master Control.
Then, as the last of his people laid his body in state in a hidden tomb, his Orb of Green Fire on his breast, the King of Dorla was at peace. He stirred when the horrors stirred, but he was dead; he could do nothing. Then the horrors were laid low again, by Malford and his motleys, with Felix Optima again active, and the orb pulsed with the shade's desire for use... but dead, he could do nothing. E-Krektor, Drow teacher and lich from time immemorial, was defeated again, laid low; Master Control was tied up in a virtual maze for a time. But only for a time, and as a backup system was activated on a great steelship, the shade yearned again to act, to take up arms... but dead, he could do nothing.
Krunkshank awakens, sweating, the dream fading from his mind as dreams do.
He looks around himself. He'd nodded off for a moment in the Drinking Dwarves, where he and his companions- including the cadaverously thin Captain Clambake, his eyes sunken into violet pits- were deciding on their next move. Clambake was protesting something...
"C'mon, arrh," Clambake continues, "we should get back t'sea. Arrr! The Wraith awaits!"
"Yeah, that's the problem," muttered Horbin, glancing at Droidi.
"Tell you what," persuades Krunkshank, "how about we take one more teensy-weensy little look around our land, explore maybe one more cave, and then we'll help you with your ship...?" He takes a deep pull from his tankard.
Clambake sighs deeply. "All right, then,"* he grumbles. "One more trip... inland. Then we're back to the Wraith!" He sips at his rum and thinks, Whether ye like it or not.
*Natural 20 on a Will save to let him do it... darn lucky, as you'll see!
Last edited:
the Jester
Legend
One More Trip Inland
The party returns to their land again, looking for another interesting cave. They quickly explore a few without any luck, then- as the sun passes its zenith- they enter another crack. "This is the last," Captain Clambake wheezes. "I promise ye that! Arrrh," he adds.
"Yeah, yeah," Horbin grumps.
"Say, it's another empty cave, imagine that," Clambake grumbles. "Now d'ye suppose we can get back ta sea, where we bel- AAAAHGG!!!"
Something has grabbed him.
Clambake feels his strength- what he has left- starting to fade. A tendril jerks him bodily towards a large mass of stone that seems to have opened a huge, salivating maw. More tendrils whip out, slapping at Droidi and Horbin. With a grunt, Clambake tries to pull free, but he's failing rapidly, and Horbin's holy mace smacks uselessly at the creature.
"Sure am glad I got this thing," Krunkshank remarks, pulling forth the Orb of Green Fire. It crackles to life, flickering lime spitting from it, and a ray of burning power shoots out at the roper's body. There's a terrible stink as flames consume it! It screams horribly, squeezing Horbin and Clambake, but a flame strike from the Galadorian finishes it off.
With a groan, Captain Clambake stumbles and catches himself against the wall. "Oh, yeah, one more trip inland!" he complains. "Oh, yeah, no harm done to yeh! Pah!" He spits angrily. "Let's to the Dwarves for a nip of rum and then to the Wraith, where we belong! I'm in no shape for more of this cursed adventuring after that, I'm as weak as a kitten!"
A short search for loot turns up a few coins, but nothing of note, and the party hobbles back to the Drinking Dwarves, where they sit by the fireside drinking like... well, like dwarves. Longburns peers at Clambake from beneath his brows when he refuses food with a shake of his head, but serves up the group's ale and rum all the same.
"After I recover me strength, we go ta sea, arrr," Clambake insists, almost to himself. He cackles. "Arr!"
"Sure, sure we do..." Krunkshank and Horbin exchange a look. "Now, while he's weak, we have to do something," Horbin whispers.
They jump him.
"Hey!" Clambake screams, as he struggles weakly. The roper drained his strength too much for him to put up much of a fight, though- and to his horror, Krunkshank grabs the hat, his hat, the Captain's hat- and puts it on! He's stealing the Captaincy!!!
Then Clambake's eyes clear, and he groans. Krunkshank didn't put it on; that was his own fear, his paranoia, influenced by the magic. With a toss of his wrist, Krunkshank hurls the proud Captain's hat into the fireplace, where it curls and steams, finally bursting into flames with what sounds faintly like a wheezing scream. In only seconds, the hat is consumed.
"So... hungry," Clambake groans, and passes out.
Almost at the end, folks! Thanks for the encouragement! Pretty much one or two updates left!
The party returns to their land again, looking for another interesting cave. They quickly explore a few without any luck, then- as the sun passes its zenith- they enter another crack. "This is the last," Captain Clambake wheezes. "I promise ye that! Arrrh," he adds.
"Yeah, yeah," Horbin grumps.
"Say, it's another empty cave, imagine that," Clambake grumbles. "Now d'ye suppose we can get back ta sea, where we bel- AAAAHGG!!!"
Something has grabbed him.
Clambake feels his strength- what he has left- starting to fade. A tendril jerks him bodily towards a large mass of stone that seems to have opened a huge, salivating maw. More tendrils whip out, slapping at Droidi and Horbin. With a grunt, Clambake tries to pull free, but he's failing rapidly, and Horbin's holy mace smacks uselessly at the creature.
"Sure am glad I got this thing," Krunkshank remarks, pulling forth the Orb of Green Fire. It crackles to life, flickering lime spitting from it, and a ray of burning power shoots out at the roper's body. There's a terrible stink as flames consume it! It screams horribly, squeezing Horbin and Clambake, but a flame strike from the Galadorian finishes it off.
With a groan, Captain Clambake stumbles and catches himself against the wall. "Oh, yeah, one more trip inland!" he complains. "Oh, yeah, no harm done to yeh! Pah!" He spits angrily. "Let's to the Dwarves for a nip of rum and then to the Wraith, where we belong! I'm in no shape for more of this cursed adventuring after that, I'm as weak as a kitten!"
A short search for loot turns up a few coins, but nothing of note, and the party hobbles back to the Drinking Dwarves, where they sit by the fireside drinking like... well, like dwarves. Longburns peers at Clambake from beneath his brows when he refuses food with a shake of his head, but serves up the group's ale and rum all the same.
"After I recover me strength, we go ta sea, arrr," Clambake insists, almost to himself. He cackles. "Arr!"
"Sure, sure we do..." Krunkshank and Horbin exchange a look. "Now, while he's weak, we have to do something," Horbin whispers.
They jump him.
"Hey!" Clambake screams, as he struggles weakly. The roper drained his strength too much for him to put up much of a fight, though- and to his horror, Krunkshank grabs the hat, his hat, the Captain's hat- and puts it on! He's stealing the Captaincy!!!
Then Clambake's eyes clear, and he groans. Krunkshank didn't put it on; that was his own fear, his paranoia, influenced by the magic. With a toss of his wrist, Krunkshank hurls the proud Captain's hat into the fireplace, where it curls and steams, finally bursting into flames with what sounds faintly like a wheezing scream. In only seconds, the hat is consumed.
"So... hungry," Clambake groans, and passes out.
Almost at the end, folks! Thanks for the encouragement! Pretty much one or two updates left!
Mathew_Freeman
First Post
Ding dong the hat is dead, the hat is dead, the hat is dead, ding dong the wicked hat is dead!
Thanks Jester!
Thanks Jester!
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