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Story Hour
the Jester's OLD story hour, UPDATED AT LAST!
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<blockquote data-quote="the Jester" data-source="post: 1018580" data-attributes="member: 1210"><p><strong>Five Years Later....</strong></p><p></p><p>Captain Clambake, though not captain of the ship he's on, growls softly deep in his throat as the vessel heads through the medium-high waves into the harbor of the Shining City of Tirchond. </p><p></p><p><em>The Egg,</em> he thinks with satisfaction.</p><p></p><p>The <em>Purple Whale's</em> captain approaches him. He's a grizzled veteran of the Forinthian navy, retired over a decade but still scarred from old battles. "We're here," he says in his typical clipped tones, and Clambake nods.</p><p></p><p>"Arr, my thanks," the dwarf says, handing over a bag of coins. The captain nods at him briefly, then stomps off to the foredeck, peering out at the elven vessels moored at the quay. Soon enough he's barking orders at his crew to tie off and ready for inspection as the suspicious elves and dwarves of the Port Inspection Authority board and start examining the vessel's cargo. Clambake doesn't bother to wait; he heads immediately into the city, seeking lodging, and soon he's got a meal of fish stew and vegetables in front of him, as well as a flask of rum.</p><p></p><p>Some tastes, even acquired under the influence of a curse, never go away. "Arr," he says to himself quietly in satisfaction as his belly grows full and warm. Some mannerisms, even acquired under the influence of a curse, stay with one for life.</p><p></p><p>A flight of stairs later and he throws his pack down in his room and doffs his coat and hat. He's dry of the spray of the sea now, and he spends a few minutes passing his fingers through the tangles of his beard. <em>Definitely needs some work,</em> he thinks briefly to himself, then falls to his knees to offer his devotions to his God Na'Rat, the Chaos-Bringer, for whom he has come to this far-flung isle.</p><p></p><p>After his obsequies are done, Clambake flings himself heavily into the bed and soon sinks deep into a snoring sleep. And dreams of old friends, companions long gone, events in the past...</p><p></p><p><em>He dreams of the hat whose mark has never fully left him; he dreams of Horbin the Holy, with whom he sailed for two years after the terrible last battle that drove them from Dorla. He dreams of Krunkshank, who went far to the west, perhaps even to Dorhaus, accompanying Anvar the Paraelementalist so long ago. He dreams of Droidi, the small two-headed half-dragon, arguing with himself, head snarling at head. </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>He dreams of recent times, spent on Pesh in meditation and study. He remembers the bile that rose in his throat when he saw that the accursed Cluma had overthrown the local obelisk to his deity; he recalls the mission his masters at the temple had sent him on. He dreams of the Egg of Na'Rat.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>They whirl like a tornado, his dreams; they go back to times long past, to the <em>Sea Wraith</em>. He recalls again the fight against the roper that left him drained and weak, and how he struggled madly as his companions pulled the hat from his brow and hurled it into the fire. He remembers, in his night visions, the horrible thirst and hunger that came over him immediately afterwards- eating and eating, gulping down water, trying to restore himself. And then....</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>The lich.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Deep in the caves on the party's land on Dorla, Clambake recalls the deadly battle. The ghastly mouth that sprouted from the door, warning them- </em>Go back or you will be destroyed!<em> it cried, but the party did not heed it. </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>And destroyed they were, or very near.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Descending a jagged, difficult wall, the party found themselves facing their most difficult foe ever.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>When the undead mage rose up to battle them, Krunkshank blasted at it with a pair of </em>fireballs<em>, but the lich- announcing itself as Alexis- only cackled evilly, casting a spell to increase its speed and then displacing itself. Till, Horbin's shield man, cried out in fear even as Droidi prepared to flee and the halfling barbarian that had only recently joined with the group fled, using a </em>potion of spider climb<em> to escape out the jagged wall and out into the day.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Krunkshank kept fighting while Captain Clambake tried to unlock the door that sealed behind the group, desperately seeking escape. Flames and </em>searing lights<em> burst from the elementalist at the lich, but its response was terrifyingly effective: a spray of scintillating prismatic colors that devestated the group, leaving Krunkshank petrified and Droidi and Onald dead!</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Horbin moved in with the holy mace he'd been given by his church on Dorhaus so long ago, Till trying to aid him; but his blows seemed almost useless, missing badly. And Alexis laid the cleric low with a touch, paralyzing him for all time and </em>slowing<em> the rest of the group.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>But now Till showed his true colors, fighting valiantly- perhaps foolishly- grabbing up his master's holy mace and trying his best. The lich laughed, a hollow sound that chilled the blood, as Clambake finally opened the door atop the wall. Turning, he saw-</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Only Till remained to battle the lich. Who only laughed at him, taunting the boy, discounting him as a threat.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>Alexis was wounded, though, burnt from Krunkshank's </em>fireballs, searing lights <em>and </em>flaming spheres.<em> So Clambake, rather than letting his companions all die- the companions who had saved him from the hat- did the only thing he could think of- he hurled a vial of holy water at the lich. It shattered on impact, dousing Alexis' face with the liquid. And the lich looked up at Clambake with murder in his eyes and saw something- a resolve that would not quit- and suffered a terrible blow from the holy mace!</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>With a hiss, Alexis cried out, </em>"We shall meet again!"<em> and vanished.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>It took Till and Clambake hours to haul the paralyzed Horbin back to Poppin, and a promise to leave Dorla forever to get Tangus the Brilliant- Mayor Tangus, of course- to remove the paralysis that would have let the cleric starve. And Horbin raised the dead, broke the petrification of Krunkshank, and the group left. Except, perhaps, for Droidi, who may have stayed in his hidden caves with the bugbears...</em></p><p></p><p>Clambake wakes up. Morning has come, and he has an Egg to locate.</p><p></p><p>***</p><p></p><p></p><p>Well, there ya go- the final update of the original story hour in my game! But the tale's not truly over til the TPK comes... for more of the adventures of Horbin, five years later, see "Agents of Chaos" and then "To War Against Felenga," and watch for the tale of the Egg of Na'Rat, coming soon- probably in its own thread!</p><p></p><p>Thanks, everyone who kept prodding at me to finish it!</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="the Jester, post: 1018580, member: 1210"] [b]Five Years Later....[/b] Captain Clambake, though not captain of the ship he's on, growls softly deep in his throat as the vessel heads through the medium-high waves into the harbor of the Shining City of Tirchond. [i]The Egg,[/i] he thinks with satisfaction. The [i]Purple Whale's[/i] captain approaches him. He's a grizzled veteran of the Forinthian navy, retired over a decade but still scarred from old battles. "We're here," he says in his typical clipped tones, and Clambake nods. "Arr, my thanks," the dwarf says, handing over a bag of coins. The captain nods at him briefly, then stomps off to the foredeck, peering out at the elven vessels moored at the quay. Soon enough he's barking orders at his crew to tie off and ready for inspection as the suspicious elves and dwarves of the Port Inspection Authority board and start examining the vessel's cargo. Clambake doesn't bother to wait; he heads immediately into the city, seeking lodging, and soon he's got a meal of fish stew and vegetables in front of him, as well as a flask of rum. Some tastes, even acquired under the influence of a curse, never go away. "Arr," he says to himself quietly in satisfaction as his belly grows full and warm. Some mannerisms, even acquired under the influence of a curse, stay with one for life. A flight of stairs later and he throws his pack down in his room and doffs his coat and hat. He's dry of the spray of the sea now, and he spends a few minutes passing his fingers through the tangles of his beard. [i]Definitely needs some work,[/i] he thinks briefly to himself, then falls to his knees to offer his devotions to his God Na'Rat, the Chaos-Bringer, for whom he has come to this far-flung isle. After his obsequies are done, Clambake flings himself heavily into the bed and soon sinks deep into a snoring sleep. And dreams of old friends, companions long gone, events in the past... [i]He dreams of the hat whose mark has never fully left him; he dreams of Horbin the Holy, with whom he sailed for two years after the terrible last battle that drove them from Dorla. He dreams of Krunkshank, who went far to the west, perhaps even to Dorhaus, accompanying Anvar the Paraelementalist so long ago. He dreams of Droidi, the small two-headed half-dragon, arguing with himself, head snarling at head. He dreams of recent times, spent on Pesh in meditation and study. He remembers the bile that rose in his throat when he saw that the accursed Cluma had overthrown the local obelisk to his deity; he recalls the mission his masters at the temple had sent him on. He dreams of the Egg of Na'Rat. They whirl like a tornado, his dreams; they go back to times long past, to the [i]Sea Wraith[/i]. He recalls again the fight against the roper that left him drained and weak, and how he struggled madly as his companions pulled the hat from his brow and hurled it into the fire. He remembers, in his night visions, the horrible thirst and hunger that came over him immediately afterwards- eating and eating, gulping down water, trying to restore himself. And then.... The lich. Deep in the caves on the party's land on Dorla, Clambake recalls the deadly battle. The ghastly mouth that sprouted from the door, warning them- [/i]Go back or you will be destroyed![i] it cried, but the party did not heed it. And destroyed they were, or very near. Descending a jagged, difficult wall, the party found themselves facing their most difficult foe ever. When the undead mage rose up to battle them, Krunkshank blasted at it with a pair of [/i]fireballs[i], but the lich- announcing itself as Alexis- only cackled evilly, casting a spell to increase its speed and then displacing itself. Till, Horbin's shield man, cried out in fear even as Droidi prepared to flee and the halfling barbarian that had only recently joined with the group fled, using a [/i]potion of spider climb[i] to escape out the jagged wall and out into the day. Krunkshank kept fighting while Captain Clambake tried to unlock the door that sealed behind the group, desperately seeking escape. Flames and [/i]searing lights[i] burst from the elementalist at the lich, but its response was terrifyingly effective: a spray of scintillating prismatic colors that devestated the group, leaving Krunkshank petrified and Droidi and Onald dead! Horbin moved in with the holy mace he'd been given by his church on Dorhaus so long ago, Till trying to aid him; but his blows seemed almost useless, missing badly. And Alexis laid the cleric low with a touch, paralyzing him for all time and [/i]slowing[i] the rest of the group. But now Till showed his true colors, fighting valiantly- perhaps foolishly- grabbing up his master's holy mace and trying his best. The lich laughed, a hollow sound that chilled the blood, as Clambake finally opened the door atop the wall. Turning, he saw- Only Till remained to battle the lich. Who only laughed at him, taunting the boy, discounting him as a threat. Alexis was wounded, though, burnt from Krunkshank's [/i]fireballs, searing lights [i]and [/i]flaming spheres.[i] So Clambake, rather than letting his companions all die- the companions who had saved him from the hat- did the only thing he could think of- he hurled a vial of holy water at the lich. It shattered on impact, dousing Alexis' face with the liquid. And the lich looked up at Clambake with murder in his eyes and saw something- a resolve that would not quit- and suffered a terrible blow from the holy mace! With a hiss, Alexis cried out, [/i]"We shall meet again!"[i] and vanished. It took Till and Clambake hours to haul the paralyzed Horbin back to Poppin, and a promise to leave Dorla forever to get Tangus the Brilliant- Mayor Tangus, of course- to remove the paralysis that would have let the cleric starve. And Horbin raised the dead, broke the petrification of Krunkshank, and the group left. Except, perhaps, for Droidi, who may have stayed in his hidden caves with the bugbears...[/i] Clambake wakes up. Morning has come, and he has an Egg to locate. *** Well, there ya go- the final update of the original story hour in my game! But the tale's not truly over til the TPK comes... for more of the adventures of Horbin, five years later, see "Agents of Chaos" and then "To War Against Felenga," and watch for the tale of the Egg of Na'Rat, coming soon- probably in its own thread! Thanks, everyone who kept prodding at me to finish it! [/QUOTE]
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