Richard Rawen
First Post
Goonalan said:
We'll see you then!
The Lost Boys vs The Sunless Citadel
We'll see you then!
Richard Rawen
First Post
oops, bumped into this . . .
Sorry for the delay, too much work and then a nasty virus.
Turn 6.1
The creature before them is Balsag, deadly Bugbear hunter, and his snapping Dire rat pals, Rip and Fang.
“Surrender now and we’ll go easy on you.” Dartamor figures he’ll try anything to avoid the impending combat; the Bugbear looks big, and tough.
“Rip, Fang- tear ‘em apart.”
“Oh sweet.” Grand Alf offers, “they’re nice names, which is which?”
But the rats are intent on other business.
“By all that is good and decent, and clean in the world, attack- slay the foul beasts of BEEE-ELL-ZEE-BOB.” Aleso charges, straight through the rats and at Balsag, which takes everyone by surprise; he’s been working on the fearless bit of his character it seems.
“BiffBangPow.” Grand Alf intones, the words on his scroll disappear as he reads them, and not one, but two Magic missiles dart out- one slams into each of the rats.
“Bloody hell, did you see that two Magic Missiles, I’m like a top Mage, what-d’ya-call-them, now…”
The rats however barely miss a stride, rush on, one at Saradomin who steps into meet the creature, “May St. Cuthbert strike down this terrible verminy-beast.” And he does, Saradomin’s heavy mace connects and sends the first creature spinning backwards, it tries to right itself but falls over again, kicks at the air a little and then expires.
“Kiss my mace you hairy blighter, St. Cuthbert’s in town.”
Saradomin flicks the dying Dire Rat the bird.
The second rat leaps at Grand Alf, chomps down on flesh and cloth and tears.
RIP
Leaving the Sorcerer with a gashed knee and wearing a mini-dress, the lower part of his robe finally gives way and is gone forever. The mighty mage looks slightly silly with his stick thin pale white legs exposed, he’s got odd socks on- one is light blue with white hoops and comes up to his knee, the other, complete with sock suspender, is small, grubby, and black.
He’s also wearing slippers, one bears the legend, ‘Sorcerers are Magic in bed’, while the other is in the shape of a large fluffy frog.
“You bugger.”
Fwong
Dartamor tumbles right, out of the rat fracas, aims his bow and fires, the arrow, strikes the cavern wall above the Bugbear and shatters.
“Damn.” Then he spots Grand Alf, who tries desperately to get his spear ready to stab the rat before him while stretching his robe down to cover his pale legs, and everything else, Dartamor giggles.
Aleso charges into Balsag, the Bugbear backs up a little to get some room, smashes his morningstar down and onto Aleso’s shield, which buckles on impact. The Paladin lances his scimitar into the gap at the Bugbears shoulder, between the plates of his armour, a trickle of blood soon turns into a river. The Bugbear staggers back into his lair- badly winded, Aleso follows him in.
“St. Cuthbert send the hound of hell, I mean heaven, to vanquish this fiendish foe.”
Saradomin weaves his Divine magic.
A snarling Yorkshire Terrier appears beside Balsag, the dog has a red rosette attached to its collar, it snaps and snarls then launches itself at the Bugbear’s ankle- sinks it’s teeth in and hangs on as the giant Goblin does some sort of desperate hokey-cokey, trying to dislodge the mutt.
Grand Alf eventually gets his spear around the right way, lances it down hard at the rat, which dodges back out of his reach, his dress rides up to reveal he’s going commando.
Saradomin staggers backwards covering his eyes, “I’m blind”, he screams.
Jerky, you’d forgotten about him, suddenly springs to life- having stood statue through the early bouts of the melee, goggling at Grand Alf’s antics. The Gnome rushes into intercept the rat’s path back to Grand Alf, swishes mightily with his light mace to keep the creature at bay.
Fwong
Dartamor is aiming for the rat; he misses Jerky by inches, the Gnome glances at the Rogue, his look full of menace.
Grand Alf sees his opportunity, squats down pulling the rest of his robe over his ankles and frog-hops away from the fight.
“It’s so undignifying, I feel violated.” The Sorcerer mutters.
Back to the Paladin…
“Now you die.”
Aleso winds up his best shot, and slices hard.
But the Bugbears not there any more, hoped off still toting the snarling hound, teeth still sunk into his leg.
Aleso spirals once, twice, thr… nearly, his momentum carries him smack-bang into the cavern wall- head first, he drops lack a sack-of-spuds, out-for-the-count.
Grand Alf squat-turns, just in time to see Aleso crumple to the floor.
“Right that’s it.” The Sorcerer grabs another scroll, and seconds later- “BiffBangPow, if you want something doing you have to do it yourself.”
Two Magic Missiles arc from the Sorcerer’s hand, and thump into Balsag who totters backwards, still complete with dog.
Fwung
The arrow misses Balsag, it’s the rats turn next to have an arrow fly by it. Dartamor flips out for a second, goes to smash his bow and then recovers his mental faculties, he grabs another arrow, notches it.
Jerky swings again, misses the rat by a mile, the creature still cannot close to the thrashing Gnome however.
“If you want something doing you have to do it yourself.” Saradomin mutters and kicks Jerky out of the way and cannons into the rat.
THUNK
An underarm Golff shot with his heavy mace. ‘Golff’, a popular Dwarven pastime, entails smashing a Goblin’s head (detached) around a set course with a blunt instrument the winner is the one that gets the head in a hole in the ground with a flag next to it in the fewest shots. When the Gnomes got hold of the game they added numerous barriers and devices to the course, to further test the players skills, the most famous of which was a windmill- you have to smack the Goblin head between the sails and through a hole at the base of the structure, this game later became known as ‘Crazy Golff.” It didn’t catch on, although the Gnomes love it apparently.
It didn’t help that the windmill was some thirty feet tall and served as home to a family of Humans; a Mr. Miller, wife, son and daughter it is believed, it did grind corn though.
The second rat spirals into the air for a second and then thumps into the cavern wall- dead. Saradomin claps his hands together, a job well done.
Balsag has finally had enough of the ferocious Terrier, he smashes his leg into the cavern wall, crushing the mutt in the process, which turns into nothing more than vapour and dust.
Saradomin, continues to take advantage of his newly discovered mean streak, he dashes into a momentarily befuddled Balsag and smashes his heavy mace into the creature’s knee, the Bugbear screams and attempts to hop away.
“Oh no you don’t- Aaaaaaarrrgggghhhhh.”
Grand Alf rises to his full height, screams and rushes at Balsag, tackle out, his mini dress leaving nothing to the imagination.
He’s abandoned his spear and is now swinging “Grand Alf’s Staff of Earth Moving”, which looks a lot like a spade.
Balsag stumbles backwards- terrified by the ghostly (he’s that pale) apparition screeching towards him.
BWoM.
Grand Alf’s Staff of Earth Moving connects with the side of the Bugbear’s head, catching the creature completely off-guard, teeth and blood shoot from its mouth. He stands stunned for a second, woozy, wobbling, staggering left and right.
Grand Alf affects a pose; leaning on his Staff of… oh it’s a bloody spade.
The Sorcerer sucks in a lungful of air, and blows, aiming the breeze at Balsag.
The Bugbear totters again and then crunches to the cold stone floor, nose first, breaking things, including bits of the cavern floor, he’s very dead.
“Someone wake up the Paladin, tell him it’s safe, the fighting’s over. Oh and before you do, check his backpack for a spare pair of pants, there’s a draft in here.”
Next Turn: Goblin Science 101
Turn 6.1
The creature before them is Balsag, deadly Bugbear hunter, and his snapping Dire rat pals, Rip and Fang.
“Surrender now and we’ll go easy on you.” Dartamor figures he’ll try anything to avoid the impending combat; the Bugbear looks big, and tough.
“Rip, Fang- tear ‘em apart.”
“Oh sweet.” Grand Alf offers, “they’re nice names, which is which?”
But the rats are intent on other business.
“By all that is good and decent, and clean in the world, attack- slay the foul beasts of BEEE-ELL-ZEE-BOB.” Aleso charges, straight through the rats and at Balsag, which takes everyone by surprise; he’s been working on the fearless bit of his character it seems.
“BiffBangPow.” Grand Alf intones, the words on his scroll disappear as he reads them, and not one, but two Magic missiles dart out- one slams into each of the rats.
“Bloody hell, did you see that two Magic Missiles, I’m like a top Mage, what-d’ya-call-them, now…”
The rats however barely miss a stride, rush on, one at Saradomin who steps into meet the creature, “May St. Cuthbert strike down this terrible verminy-beast.” And he does, Saradomin’s heavy mace connects and sends the first creature spinning backwards, it tries to right itself but falls over again, kicks at the air a little and then expires.
“Kiss my mace you hairy blighter, St. Cuthbert’s in town.”
Saradomin flicks the dying Dire Rat the bird.
The second rat leaps at Grand Alf, chomps down on flesh and cloth and tears.
RIP
Leaving the Sorcerer with a gashed knee and wearing a mini-dress, the lower part of his robe finally gives way and is gone forever. The mighty mage looks slightly silly with his stick thin pale white legs exposed, he’s got odd socks on- one is light blue with white hoops and comes up to his knee, the other, complete with sock suspender, is small, grubby, and black.
He’s also wearing slippers, one bears the legend, ‘Sorcerers are Magic in bed’, while the other is in the shape of a large fluffy frog.
“You bugger.”
Fwong
Dartamor tumbles right, out of the rat fracas, aims his bow and fires, the arrow, strikes the cavern wall above the Bugbear and shatters.
“Damn.” Then he spots Grand Alf, who tries desperately to get his spear ready to stab the rat before him while stretching his robe down to cover his pale legs, and everything else, Dartamor giggles.
Aleso charges into Balsag, the Bugbear backs up a little to get some room, smashes his morningstar down and onto Aleso’s shield, which buckles on impact. The Paladin lances his scimitar into the gap at the Bugbears shoulder, between the plates of his armour, a trickle of blood soon turns into a river. The Bugbear staggers back into his lair- badly winded, Aleso follows him in.
“St. Cuthbert send the hound of hell, I mean heaven, to vanquish this fiendish foe.”
Saradomin weaves his Divine magic.
A snarling Yorkshire Terrier appears beside Balsag, the dog has a red rosette attached to its collar, it snaps and snarls then launches itself at the Bugbear’s ankle- sinks it’s teeth in and hangs on as the giant Goblin does some sort of desperate hokey-cokey, trying to dislodge the mutt.
Grand Alf eventually gets his spear around the right way, lances it down hard at the rat, which dodges back out of his reach, his dress rides up to reveal he’s going commando.
Saradomin staggers backwards covering his eyes, “I’m blind”, he screams.
Jerky, you’d forgotten about him, suddenly springs to life- having stood statue through the early bouts of the melee, goggling at Grand Alf’s antics. The Gnome rushes into intercept the rat’s path back to Grand Alf, swishes mightily with his light mace to keep the creature at bay.
Fwong
Dartamor is aiming for the rat; he misses Jerky by inches, the Gnome glances at the Rogue, his look full of menace.
Grand Alf sees his opportunity, squats down pulling the rest of his robe over his ankles and frog-hops away from the fight.
“It’s so undignifying, I feel violated.” The Sorcerer mutters.
Back to the Paladin…
“Now you die.”
Aleso winds up his best shot, and slices hard.
But the Bugbears not there any more, hoped off still toting the snarling hound, teeth still sunk into his leg.
Aleso spirals once, twice, thr… nearly, his momentum carries him smack-bang into the cavern wall- head first, he drops lack a sack-of-spuds, out-for-the-count.
Grand Alf squat-turns, just in time to see Aleso crumple to the floor.
“Right that’s it.” The Sorcerer grabs another scroll, and seconds later- “BiffBangPow, if you want something doing you have to do it yourself.”
Two Magic Missiles arc from the Sorcerer’s hand, and thump into Balsag who totters backwards, still complete with dog.
Fwung
The arrow misses Balsag, it’s the rats turn next to have an arrow fly by it. Dartamor flips out for a second, goes to smash his bow and then recovers his mental faculties, he grabs another arrow, notches it.
Jerky swings again, misses the rat by a mile, the creature still cannot close to the thrashing Gnome however.
“If you want something doing you have to do it yourself.” Saradomin mutters and kicks Jerky out of the way and cannons into the rat.
THUNK
An underarm Golff shot with his heavy mace. ‘Golff’, a popular Dwarven pastime, entails smashing a Goblin’s head (detached) around a set course with a blunt instrument the winner is the one that gets the head in a hole in the ground with a flag next to it in the fewest shots. When the Gnomes got hold of the game they added numerous barriers and devices to the course, to further test the players skills, the most famous of which was a windmill- you have to smack the Goblin head between the sails and through a hole at the base of the structure, this game later became known as ‘Crazy Golff.” It didn’t catch on, although the Gnomes love it apparently.
It didn’t help that the windmill was some thirty feet tall and served as home to a family of Humans; a Mr. Miller, wife, son and daughter it is believed, it did grind corn though.
The second rat spirals into the air for a second and then thumps into the cavern wall- dead. Saradomin claps his hands together, a job well done.
Balsag has finally had enough of the ferocious Terrier, he smashes his leg into the cavern wall, crushing the mutt in the process, which turns into nothing more than vapour and dust.
Saradomin, continues to take advantage of his newly discovered mean streak, he dashes into a momentarily befuddled Balsag and smashes his heavy mace into the creature’s knee, the Bugbear screams and attempts to hop away.
“Oh no you don’t- Aaaaaaarrrgggghhhhh.”
Grand Alf rises to his full height, screams and rushes at Balsag, tackle out, his mini dress leaving nothing to the imagination.
He’s abandoned his spear and is now swinging “Grand Alf’s Staff of Earth Moving”, which looks a lot like a spade.
Balsag stumbles backwards- terrified by the ghostly (he’s that pale) apparition screeching towards him.
BWoM.
Grand Alf’s Staff of Earth Moving connects with the side of the Bugbear’s head, catching the creature completely off-guard, teeth and blood shoot from its mouth. He stands stunned for a second, woozy, wobbling, staggering left and right.
Grand Alf affects a pose; leaning on his Staff of… oh it’s a bloody spade.
The Sorcerer sucks in a lungful of air, and blows, aiming the breeze at Balsag.
The Bugbear totters again and then crunches to the cold stone floor, nose first, breaking things, including bits of the cavern floor, he’s very dead.
“Someone wake up the Paladin, tell him it’s safe, the fighting’s over. Oh and before you do, check his backpack for a spare pair of pants, there’s a draft in here.”
Next Turn: Goblin Science 101
carborundum
Adventurer
They're Ba-ack!
Huzzah!
Huzzah!
jonnytheshirt
First Post
Jinkies
Just started readin this - good fun
Just started readin this - good fun
Why thank you kind sir.
And on it goes, like a runnaway train...
Turn 6.2 Goblin Science 101
Five minutes later, Grand Alf sports a pair of white long-johns stencilled on the buttocks of which are the words “girl bait” with an arrow pointing round to the groin area, the Lost Boys meanwhile are exploring their new surroundings.
“Where do you think that goes?”
Dartamor opens a stone door, beyond is a dark and wet passage, no signs of life.
“It looks empty.” Jerky concurs.
Back in the centre of the chamber Saradomin is rifling through Balsag’s goodies, the creature’s Morningstar looks to be of excellent quality.
“See if you can hit anything with that.”
He hands the weapon over to Aleso, who grimaces and holds his head; he’s still a little woozy after his brief bout of unconsciousness.
“Pelor strike you down.” He mutters.
“What was that?” Saradomin enquires.
“I said blessed be the cheese-makers.” The Paladin glares at the Priest.
“What? You loon.”
The two square up to each other.
“Yeah.”
“Yeah.”
Bump chests.
“YEAH.”
“YEAH.”
They’re in each others faces.
And they really have nowhere left to go.
“Grrrr.” Saradomin growls.
“Rrrrr.” Aleso snarls.
“I’m going to check out the other door.” Dartamor wanders over, past the snarling religious types, Jerky comes to a halt aghast at the holy men’s antics, the two immediately break from their clinch, adopt more relaxed poses.
“Oh right, do be careful.” Aleso offers and waves.
“Give us a shout if you spot anything nasty wont you.” Saradomin adds.
Dartamor wanders over to the other door.
“Now where were we?” Saradomin asks.
“I think you were about to push me.” Aleso confirms.
Saradomin pushes the Paladin, who shoves back.
The two square up again.
“Grrrr.” Aleso growls.
“Rrrrr.” Saradomin snarls.
“Hey there’s a load of weapons in here.” Grand Alf shouts, and then appears from Balsag’s lair, a rough cave cut into the side of the chamber.
“Oo.” Aleso scrambles to get there.
“Wait for me.” Saradomin rushes off.
The pair push, shove and attempt to trip each other up as they rush into Balsag’s lair, only to discover a rag-tag collection of swords and blades, the trophies of the Bugbear’s previous victims.
They scramble through the weapons like old folk at a jumble sale, fighting each other for the best of the bunch.
Grand Alf sneaks off and rifles the two rat’s nests he found earlier, nobodies watching, he makes off with lots of gold and silver, muttering as he shuffles back into the central chamber.
“I’m rich I tell ya. Rich. I’m gonna get a new dress, and some beads, and maybe some curling tongs, I’ve got good legs, like a skellington, don’t mess with me, I’m the Archie-Mage, or whatever it’s called…”
“Hey you guys, take a look at this.”
Dartamor appears, whispering loudly, and leads them off to the second door, which is now open.
“Listen.”
ZzzzzzzzSNAWZzzzzzz
And…
Squelch-squelch-squelch-squelch.
“Close the door, I’ve got a plan.” Saradomin grins, Dartamor does as he’s told- the Lost Boys move away, back into the centre of the chamber and to the body of Balsag, lead by Saradomin.
“Dartamor, give me the Magic Whistle, and don’t bother lying I know you’ve got it- I’ve got an idea forming in my head…” The Priest of St. Cuthbert looks down at the sprawled body of Balsag.
“ “
Saradomin blows the whistle, nothing happens for a moment and then the Bugbear sits up, then slowly stands.
“Yeth Marthter.”
Balsag turns to face Saradomin, who’s doing a little jig and singing.
“Sa-ra-do-min, Sa-ra-do-min, Tin-Can-Sa-ra-do-min,
Eez got nah song 'cos 'is names tew long,
Tin-Can-ShOwTee-Sa-ra-do-min."
Aleso shakes his head and tuts a while, “It’s an abomination, a bloody abomination- where’s mine that’s what I want to know?”
Jerky wanders over to Saradomin.
“Is this really appropriate? Surely you can see that ethically you’re on dodgy ground bringing this foul creature back to unlife?”
“Jealous.”
“What?”
“You’re just jealous because I’ve got a Bugbear and you’ve not.”
“It’s not that… I’m not jealous, what about the tenants of your faith? Our faith?”
“St. Cuthbert made me do it.”
“What?”
“I said St. Cuthbert made me do it, I’m the thingy of St. Cuthbert… the whatsit.”
“What whatsit?”
“The tool, no that’s not it… utensil, that’s it.”
“The utensil of St. Cuthbert?”
“Yeah, sort of, like a spoon.”
“Like a what?”
“Spoon.”
“You’re the Spoon of St. Cuthbert?”
“Yeah, whatever… Jealous.”
Jerky looks aghast, “You’re the Spoon of St. Cuthbert, I just want to get this right?”
“Probably”, Saradomin shrugs, “he moves within me… in mysterious ways.” The Priest adopts a spooky-ish pose.
“You’re mad.” Jerky concludes.
“Ha madness is just a form of genius… or religious fervour, I’m the… hang on lets do this properly.”
Saradomin sinks to his knees, palms pressed together praying, eyes to heaven- actually he stands bathed in the halo of light from the hole above, very dramatic.
“St. Cuthbert who works within me, for I am your Divine Ladle,
I carry your faith within me like… like soup, in a spoon.
The journey betwixt bowl and lip is fretted with terrible hazard,
Bread buns, people nudging your elbow, and condiments.
Just like our journey, except the bread buns are Kobolds,
And there’s a big Bugbear nudging at my elbow, and… condiments.
Oh mighty St. Cuthbert show me a sign of your faith in me,
If I should not take this foul beast into service then strike him dead this instant…”
This last bit delivered with menace, and volume, with finger pointing straight at a bemused looking Zombiefied Balsag.
Nothing happens.
“However, if you believe my path is true then give some clear indication,
Say ‘Aye’ great St. Cuthbert, make it clear so all can see that my cause is…”
BWOM
Grand Alf, who has so far risen above the religious bickering, smashes his spade into the back of the Bugbears skull.
POP
One of the creature’s eyes shoots out; Jerky catches it, instinctively, and then drops it- slimy.
“Aye. Now let’s get on.” Grand Alf states and wanders over to the door.
“So there.” Saradomin follows the Sorcerer, “I shall call him Bernard.” The Bugbear follows after, “Yeth Marthter.”
“What happened?” Dartamor enquires.
“Not certain.” Jerky replies.
“An abomination, a bloody abomination… I’m getting the next one.” Aleso runs after the others.
EEEEeeeeeeeRRRrrr
Dartamor opens the door again, torches light the chamber ahead, it extends a way, there’s a jumble of tables all crowded with… well, junk, and the remains of plants. Pillars, once again carved with dragons, although all badly stained and damaged, form an avenue through the chamber. Either side are doors, exits to other chambers, many ajar, three pairs in total.
From the left.
ZzzzzzzzSNAWZzzzzzz
And from the right.
Squelch-squelch-squelch-squelch.
“Shhh. Back in a moment.”
Dartamor sneaks forward to the door on the left, from which the sound of snoring is heard.
Turns back to look at the others, “Shhh- ready”, he whispers.
Saradomin nods.
FwwwwWACK
Dartamor pushes the door open, swiftly discovers it doesn’t open that way, and just as swiftly wrenches it back towards him, perfect, except for the part where he gets out of the way of the door. He smashes the door into his face, goes to scream, holds it in and then hops about a bit with his hand clamped over his mouth.
“Shhhhh.”
A collective susurrus from the remainder of The Lost Boys, witness to the scene.
Dartamor shakes his head, acknowledging the need to stay silent.
ZzzzzzzzSNAWZzzzzzz
Thank Pelor whatever lies within is still sleeping.
Dartamor removes his hand from his mouth, his scream stifled, grins at the assembled on-lookers and then hops back into a table loaded with pot plants, the entire thing collapses.
It sounds like the end of the world.
“Shhhhhugar Puffs.”
In the chamber ahead two Goblins roll out of bed, heft clubs and rush over to the door and through, poised standing over the sprawling Rogue.
From the first door on the right two more of the creatures come rushing out, they’re wearing shorts, one is armed with a shortened oar, the other with, appropriately, a large ladle.
A third door opens, the second on the right, work it out, I’m not drawing you a picture and another pair of Goblins step out of the chamber- strange, they’re wearing lab coats, actually cut up white sheets with buttons sewn on the front. One has a line of twigs peeking out of a breast pocket- all of the twigs are exactly the same length, and has a length of rope knotted at his neck and hanging down like a pendulum, the other is wearing a chef’s hat.
“What’s 'a' din? Wea'ar int' middle o' eur reeight serious experiment, we require absolute silence ta fettle, if wee measurements are off, even by eur bit, it could be disastrous fert subject.”
In translation-
“What’s that noise? We are in the middle of a very serious experiment, we require absolute silence to work, if our measurements are off, even by a bit, it could be disastrous for the subject.”
The speaker has stencilled on the front of his lab coat, “Dr. Neyow.”
“'n then we will av ta ea' 'im. Mmmmm.”
In translation-
“And then we will have to eat him. Mmmmm.”
The one with the Chef’s hat has, “Dr. Ooo”, stencilled on the front of his lab coat.
“Charge?”
Saradomin offers, unsure. He looks around for support and then makes his move.
“Kill Bernard. Kill.”
The Goblins react instantly, the two standing over Dartamor rain down blows on the Rogue, he struggles to get clear of the pair, hit on his arm and his leg, both areas instantly go numb.
Saradomin and Bernard (the Bugbear) get about two feet further into the chamber and then.
FUNG
Get wedged against each other- stuck in the doorway, the pair of Goblins in shorts rush over to engage them, they’re sitting ducks- stuck.
“Will you get out of the way… I can’t hold it… I can’t hold it.”
Grand Alf hops from foot to foot repeating his mantra, he wants, more than anything, to own a lab coat.
Next Turn: Goblin Biology 101.
And on it goes, like a runnaway train...
Turn 6.2 Goblin Science 101
Five minutes later, Grand Alf sports a pair of white long-johns stencilled on the buttocks of which are the words “girl bait” with an arrow pointing round to the groin area, the Lost Boys meanwhile are exploring their new surroundings.
“Where do you think that goes?”
Dartamor opens a stone door, beyond is a dark and wet passage, no signs of life.
“It looks empty.” Jerky concurs.
Back in the centre of the chamber Saradomin is rifling through Balsag’s goodies, the creature’s Morningstar looks to be of excellent quality.
“See if you can hit anything with that.”
He hands the weapon over to Aleso, who grimaces and holds his head; he’s still a little woozy after his brief bout of unconsciousness.
“Pelor strike you down.” He mutters.
“What was that?” Saradomin enquires.
“I said blessed be the cheese-makers.” The Paladin glares at the Priest.
“What? You loon.”
The two square up to each other.
“Yeah.”
“Yeah.”
Bump chests.
“YEAH.”
“YEAH.”
They’re in each others faces.
And they really have nowhere left to go.
“Grrrr.” Saradomin growls.
“Rrrrr.” Aleso snarls.
“I’m going to check out the other door.” Dartamor wanders over, past the snarling religious types, Jerky comes to a halt aghast at the holy men’s antics, the two immediately break from their clinch, adopt more relaxed poses.
“Oh right, do be careful.” Aleso offers and waves.
“Give us a shout if you spot anything nasty wont you.” Saradomin adds.
Dartamor wanders over to the other door.
“Now where were we?” Saradomin asks.
“I think you were about to push me.” Aleso confirms.
Saradomin pushes the Paladin, who shoves back.
The two square up again.
“Grrrr.” Aleso growls.
“Rrrrr.” Saradomin snarls.
“Hey there’s a load of weapons in here.” Grand Alf shouts, and then appears from Balsag’s lair, a rough cave cut into the side of the chamber.
“Oo.” Aleso scrambles to get there.
“Wait for me.” Saradomin rushes off.
The pair push, shove and attempt to trip each other up as they rush into Balsag’s lair, only to discover a rag-tag collection of swords and blades, the trophies of the Bugbear’s previous victims.
They scramble through the weapons like old folk at a jumble sale, fighting each other for the best of the bunch.
Grand Alf sneaks off and rifles the two rat’s nests he found earlier, nobodies watching, he makes off with lots of gold and silver, muttering as he shuffles back into the central chamber.
“I’m rich I tell ya. Rich. I’m gonna get a new dress, and some beads, and maybe some curling tongs, I’ve got good legs, like a skellington, don’t mess with me, I’m the Archie-Mage, or whatever it’s called…”
“Hey you guys, take a look at this.”
Dartamor appears, whispering loudly, and leads them off to the second door, which is now open.
“Listen.”
ZzzzzzzzSNAWZzzzzzz
And…
Squelch-squelch-squelch-squelch.
“Close the door, I’ve got a plan.” Saradomin grins, Dartamor does as he’s told- the Lost Boys move away, back into the centre of the chamber and to the body of Balsag, lead by Saradomin.
“Dartamor, give me the Magic Whistle, and don’t bother lying I know you’ve got it- I’ve got an idea forming in my head…” The Priest of St. Cuthbert looks down at the sprawled body of Balsag.
“ “
Saradomin blows the whistle, nothing happens for a moment and then the Bugbear sits up, then slowly stands.
“Yeth Marthter.”
Balsag turns to face Saradomin, who’s doing a little jig and singing.
“Sa-ra-do-min, Sa-ra-do-min, Tin-Can-Sa-ra-do-min,
Eez got nah song 'cos 'is names tew long,
Tin-Can-ShOwTee-Sa-ra-do-min."
Aleso shakes his head and tuts a while, “It’s an abomination, a bloody abomination- where’s mine that’s what I want to know?”
Jerky wanders over to Saradomin.
“Is this really appropriate? Surely you can see that ethically you’re on dodgy ground bringing this foul creature back to unlife?”
“Jealous.”
“What?”
“You’re just jealous because I’ve got a Bugbear and you’ve not.”
“It’s not that… I’m not jealous, what about the tenants of your faith? Our faith?”
“St. Cuthbert made me do it.”
“What?”
“I said St. Cuthbert made me do it, I’m the thingy of St. Cuthbert… the whatsit.”
“What whatsit?”
“The tool, no that’s not it… utensil, that’s it.”
“The utensil of St. Cuthbert?”
“Yeah, sort of, like a spoon.”
“Like a what?”
“Spoon.”
“You’re the Spoon of St. Cuthbert?”
“Yeah, whatever… Jealous.”
Jerky looks aghast, “You’re the Spoon of St. Cuthbert, I just want to get this right?”
“Probably”, Saradomin shrugs, “he moves within me… in mysterious ways.” The Priest adopts a spooky-ish pose.
“You’re mad.” Jerky concludes.
“Ha madness is just a form of genius… or religious fervour, I’m the… hang on lets do this properly.”
Saradomin sinks to his knees, palms pressed together praying, eyes to heaven- actually he stands bathed in the halo of light from the hole above, very dramatic.
“St. Cuthbert who works within me, for I am your Divine Ladle,
I carry your faith within me like… like soup, in a spoon.
The journey betwixt bowl and lip is fretted with terrible hazard,
Bread buns, people nudging your elbow, and condiments.
Just like our journey, except the bread buns are Kobolds,
And there’s a big Bugbear nudging at my elbow, and… condiments.
Oh mighty St. Cuthbert show me a sign of your faith in me,
If I should not take this foul beast into service then strike him dead this instant…”
This last bit delivered with menace, and volume, with finger pointing straight at a bemused looking Zombiefied Balsag.
Nothing happens.
“However, if you believe my path is true then give some clear indication,
Say ‘Aye’ great St. Cuthbert, make it clear so all can see that my cause is…”
BWOM
Grand Alf, who has so far risen above the religious bickering, smashes his spade into the back of the Bugbears skull.
POP
One of the creature’s eyes shoots out; Jerky catches it, instinctively, and then drops it- slimy.
“Aye. Now let’s get on.” Grand Alf states and wanders over to the door.
“So there.” Saradomin follows the Sorcerer, “I shall call him Bernard.” The Bugbear follows after, “Yeth Marthter.”
“What happened?” Dartamor enquires.
“Not certain.” Jerky replies.
“An abomination, a bloody abomination… I’m getting the next one.” Aleso runs after the others.
EEEEeeeeeeeRRRrrr
Dartamor opens the door again, torches light the chamber ahead, it extends a way, there’s a jumble of tables all crowded with… well, junk, and the remains of plants. Pillars, once again carved with dragons, although all badly stained and damaged, form an avenue through the chamber. Either side are doors, exits to other chambers, many ajar, three pairs in total.
From the left.
ZzzzzzzzSNAWZzzzzzz
And from the right.
Squelch-squelch-squelch-squelch.
“Shhh. Back in a moment.”
Dartamor sneaks forward to the door on the left, from which the sound of snoring is heard.
Turns back to look at the others, “Shhh- ready”, he whispers.
Saradomin nods.
FwwwwWACK
Dartamor pushes the door open, swiftly discovers it doesn’t open that way, and just as swiftly wrenches it back towards him, perfect, except for the part where he gets out of the way of the door. He smashes the door into his face, goes to scream, holds it in and then hops about a bit with his hand clamped over his mouth.
“Shhhhh.”
A collective susurrus from the remainder of The Lost Boys, witness to the scene.
Dartamor shakes his head, acknowledging the need to stay silent.
ZzzzzzzzSNAWZzzzzzz
Thank Pelor whatever lies within is still sleeping.
Dartamor removes his hand from his mouth, his scream stifled, grins at the assembled on-lookers and then hops back into a table loaded with pot plants, the entire thing collapses.
It sounds like the end of the world.
“Shhhhhugar Puffs.”
In the chamber ahead two Goblins roll out of bed, heft clubs and rush over to the door and through, poised standing over the sprawling Rogue.
From the first door on the right two more of the creatures come rushing out, they’re wearing shorts, one is armed with a shortened oar, the other with, appropriately, a large ladle.
A third door opens, the second on the right, work it out, I’m not drawing you a picture and another pair of Goblins step out of the chamber- strange, they’re wearing lab coats, actually cut up white sheets with buttons sewn on the front. One has a line of twigs peeking out of a breast pocket- all of the twigs are exactly the same length, and has a length of rope knotted at his neck and hanging down like a pendulum, the other is wearing a chef’s hat.
“What’s 'a' din? Wea'ar int' middle o' eur reeight serious experiment, we require absolute silence ta fettle, if wee measurements are off, even by eur bit, it could be disastrous fert subject.”
In translation-
“What’s that noise? We are in the middle of a very serious experiment, we require absolute silence to work, if our measurements are off, even by a bit, it could be disastrous for the subject.”
The speaker has stencilled on the front of his lab coat, “Dr. Neyow.”
“'n then we will av ta ea' 'im. Mmmmm.”
In translation-
“And then we will have to eat him. Mmmmm.”
The one with the Chef’s hat has, “Dr. Ooo”, stencilled on the front of his lab coat.
“Charge?”
Saradomin offers, unsure. He looks around for support and then makes his move.
“Kill Bernard. Kill.”
The Goblins react instantly, the two standing over Dartamor rain down blows on the Rogue, he struggles to get clear of the pair, hit on his arm and his leg, both areas instantly go numb.
Saradomin and Bernard (the Bugbear) get about two feet further into the chamber and then.
FUNG
Get wedged against each other- stuck in the doorway, the pair of Goblins in shorts rush over to engage them, they’re sitting ducks- stuck.
“Will you get out of the way… I can’t hold it… I can’t hold it.”
Grand Alf hops from foot to foot repeating his mantra, he wants, more than anything, to own a lab coat.
Next Turn: Goblin Biology 101.
Don't pick your nose!
"Aha, what's so special about the cheesemakers?"
"Well, obviously it's not meant to be taken literally; it refers to any manufacturers of dairy products."
What's a story hour without a Monty python reference.
Funny stuff. Brings me back to my own early days of Power-Gaming oh so many years ago as a 10 year old playing for the 1st time. Plenty of Monty Python to go around. Come to think of it, that was the year "The Life of Brian" came out. 1979.
"Aha, what's so special about the cheesemakers?"
"Well, obviously it's not meant to be taken literally; it refers to any manufacturers of dairy products."
What's a story hour without a Monty python reference.
Funny stuff. Brings me back to my own early days of Power-Gaming oh so many years ago as a 10 year old playing for the 1st time. Plenty of Monty Python to go around. Come to think of it, that was the year "The Life of Brian" came out. 1979.
Richard Rawen
First Post
Ahhh, sorry for the absence, RL has me rushed! Had fun catching up the story though, thanks for the laughs (and, of course, serious RP led party dynamics... well the laughs anyways 
So, what's with the multiple instances of keystone copness? (spinning in place and taking a header into the wall, tripping over the table, stuck with zombie-bear in the doorway... ) Are they rolling nat 1's or are you just being fiendish with the details?
So, what's with the multiple instances of keystone copness? (spinning in place and taking a header into the wall, tripping over the table, stuck with zombie-bear in the doorway... ) Are they rolling nat 1's or are you just being fiendish with the details?
Richard Rawen said:Ahhh, sorry for the absence, RL has me rushed! Had fun catching up the story though, thanks for the laughs (and, of course, serious RP led party dynamics... well the laughs anyways
So, what's with the multiple instances of keystone copness? (spinning in place and taking a header into the wall, tripping over the table, stuck with zombie-bear in the doorway... ) Are they rolling nat 1's or are you just being fiendish with the details?
All 1's from memory, kinda makes up, a little, for the glut of 20's they usually conjure, Dartamor came up with two 1's in a row- opened the chamber door into his face, waking the Goblin's within then stumbled back into the table after a Reflex save of- 1.
Thanks for reading Richard.
And on we go...
Turn 6.3 Goblin Biology 101
Dartamor reacts swiftly, scrambles backwards and manages to lever himself upright, a plant pot smashes over his shoulder as a Goblin club just misses his head and impacts with it.
The Rogue flings himself backwards onto the table and backward rolls over it, kicks one of the table legs away.
CRUNCH
The thing collapses forming a barrier between him and the Goblins, the pair flail over the obstacle trying to brain the Rogue, too slow. Dartamor skitters away again, quick-draws his bow, notches an arrow, and let’s fly.
Thunk.
The arrow grazes the lead Goblin’s face, it takes evasive action, the pair dive away and head for the other members of the Lost Boys blocking the doorway.
Meanwhile Saradomin and Bernard the Bugbear are still stuck in the doorway, wedged tight. Dr. Ooo leads the two Goblin’s wearing short pants over to the scene.
“Goblin Science goes BONK.”
He points at the pair, the Goblin’s attack as…
POP
Saradomin and Bernard free themselves at last.
CLUNK
Bernard flails and connects, ooooh, quite a blow, the Goblin’s head is crushed, it drops to the floor and shudders a while- dead, as the other pair, recently menacing Dartamor, join the fracas.
“By St. Cuthbert’s Mace kill the infidel… BERNARD THE DESTROYER.”
Saradomin screams.
BONG
Grand Alf’s Staff of Earth Moving connects with the back of Bernard’s head.
“Get out of the bloody way you fiends. I WANT A LAB COAT.”
Grand Alf pushes through the gap and into the fray, instantly faces off against the other shorts wearing Goblin, he flails wildly with his spade, the Goblin ducks the blow.
More doors in the chamber are flung open; another pair of Goblins reinforces the good Dr’s, and further into the chamber yet another pair of Goblins spill out and find themselves ideally located behind Dartamor, who’s backing away- straight into them, notching another arrow.
The Rogue suddenly flinches and winces, a dagger cutting into his side, he spins round spills his bow and quick-draws a blade, trying to keep the pair at bay.
“Help. HELP.”
The Rogue screams, clearly the worst for wear.
“It shall be mine… FUNK.”
Grand Alf’s spade collides with a Goblin’s head, the creature goes rag-doll loose and flops to the hard cold stone floor.
“Oh yes it shall be mine.”
Alas Saradomin, Bernard and now Grand Alf are being pressed back into the doorway, four swishing and swatting Goblins before them; Bernard the Zombie Bugbear has taken a number of blows already.
“For Pelor’s sake!”
Aleso’s screams in Saradomin’s ear, “let us through- I’m the registered fighter I’ll have you know”, he’s still stuck in the previous chamber.
“Press on Saradomin- let us get into the fight.”
Jerky states.
“Jealous.”
Saradomin shouts back and grinning continues to thrash at the air.
Meanwhile Dartamor ducks, dodges, dives and deflects- it’s an all out defence, and still he takes a stab wound to his left hand, a scratch but the hits keep coming.
“Save me… Save me, I need a hero…”
Saradomin toothpaste smiles at an invisible camera, bustles forward and smashes his heavy mace down on the top of a Goblin’s head, the creature clutches at his cracked skull, then withers and grabs for the floor.
The Priest leaps through the gap, jumps onto the nearest trestle table, already laden with pot plants and assorted gardening junk, the table sways forward with his momentum and collapses- he goes with the flow, leaps onto the next table.
Which collapses too.
Saradomin leaps again, and is struck on the foot mid-air by a stray Goblin, he slams into the floor, crouches to absorb the impact, lands hard on the foot of one of the pair of Goblin’s menacing Daratamor.
“TA DA!”
Saradomin screams in the manner of a circus performer having successfully pulled off their latest stunt, flings his arms out wide to take in the audience’s applause.
His elbow catches Dartamor on the temple; the Rogue crumples to the cold floor- dizzy now.
The Goblin with a crushed foot leaps away momentarily, the other leaps on top of Dartamor and wrestles with the much abused Rogue, the creature soon has him pinned.
Back in the doorway Bernard is thumped in the guts by a Goblin, the Zombie attempts to bash the creature back but is much too slow. Grand Alf the other front rank warrior menaces the Goblin ahead of him with his spade.
“D’ya want some of this?”
SMASH
The Goblin delivers a precision stinging blow to Grand Alf’s hand- the Wizard drops his spade.
“Damndittydamnteedamndamn.”
And sucks his battered fingers.
“Right, ya wanna play rough.”
THUMPgurgle
Grand Alf leaps forward and kicks the creature in the… ahem, area. The Goblin goes googly-eyed and then falls to the floor clutching the bruised area.
“Don’t rub them son, count them.” Grand Alf advises.
Bernard is hit again, however he still looks full of life, scratch that- death, you know what I mean. The Bugbear Zombie smashes his Goblin attacker, who flies five feet backwards, crunches into a stone pillar and slumps to the floor.
Aleso dives into the chamber; at last, roundhouse swings his scimitar and slays Dr. Ooo, nearly cuts the Goblin scientist in half.
“Oooooooooooooo.”
The good Dr’s last words, alas the lab coat is ruined, and covered in blood.
“May Be-LL-Za-Bub take you, nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo…”
Grand Alf sinks to his knees, hands raised to the gods.
“My beautiful lab coat.”
Then has a brain wave.
“Crashbangwallop.”
A Magic Missile thumps into Dr Neyow, the Goblin staggers backwards, lab coat intact, but alas only injured.
Meanwhile the Goblin with the crushed foot barrels back into Saradomin, the two exchange blows, to no effect.
“Come Bernard, come to me, together we will destroy them all, Mwah ha ha ha.”
Saradomin calls to his Frankenstein.
“Yeth Marthter.” Bernard, arms out before him, plods over.
On the floor Dartamor wrestles with the Goblin pinning him down, he can’t shake it off, the creature snarls then leans in and SNAP bites part of the his ear off, then head butts him in the face for good measure, Dartamor flails uncontrollably blood covers his face, he’s losing consciousness.
“Sara…”
He’s cut off as the Goblin connects again.
Saradomin brains the Goblin facing him, quick turns, raises his heavy mace and smashes it down on the Goblin grappling Dartamor- kills it instantly.
Dartamor’s not moving, blood gushes from his broken nose and his left ear, now sans lobe.
Aleso drops his scimitar rushes in grabs up Dr. Neyow, the only Goblin left alive, he clutches the creature to him, the Goblin’s little legs dance in the air, and twists.
POP
Neck broken he lets go of the creature.
Jerky makes it to Dartamor, past a lurching Bernard still en route, fires healing into the Rogue, who instantly blinks awake.
Grand Alf has the lab coat on in under five seconds, he swishes and swirls, although it’s a tight fit, he admires the uniformly sized twigs in the breast pocket.
“It’s… It’s magnificent.”
He shakes an imaginary hand clears his throat and…
“Hello, I’m Dr. Grand Alf, now if you’d like to take your clothes off.”
He clears his throat again, tries a deeper voice, mimes taking someone’s pulse.
“It’s more serious then we thought, you’re head will have to come off.”
He shakes his head, looks down, then up- more serious still, he affects a frown.
For good measure he mimes smoking a pipe.
“Search this place- who knows what other great stuff we might find.”
The tableau at the other end of the room breaks up; they’ve been watching Grand Alf, while holding Dartamor up- the Rogue has lost a lot of blood.
“Grand Alf?”
“Dr. Grand Alf to you Dartamor, do you want me to come and have a look at that- nasty bump you’ve got their, third degree chaffing by the looks of things, only a minor operation- believe me it’ll hurt you more than it will me?”
Grand Alf opens an imaginary Dr’s bag, takes out an imaginary stethoscope and wanders over.
“No… it’s ok. I’m fine.”
Jerky tends to Dartamor’s wounds, and Grand Alf’s when the good Dr. is finally convinced that he cannot simply “heal himself.”
“Right then, let’s search this place.” Aleso states.
“Haven’t I already said that?” Grand Alf states, hands on hips.
“Yes.” Aleso confirms.
“Oh.” Grand Alf looks a little put out.
“But we try to ignore you.” Aleso finishes.
Grand Alf looks pensive- takes the imaginary pipe out of his mouth, wags it at Saradomin, to make his point, and states in a clear voice, “Yes that would explain it.”
Next Turn: The Discoverers.
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