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Story Hour
The Lost Boys vs The Sunless Citadel
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<blockquote data-quote="Goonalan" data-source="post: 3747819" data-attributes="member: 16069"><p>Turn 5.4</p><p></p><p style="text-align: center">Mwelp Mwe.</p><p></p><p>The Troll continues to menace Aleso.</p><p></p><p>“MWake Mwit Mwop. MWWake Mwit Mwo MwaMway. Mwelor Mwelp mWe.”</p><p></p><p>The Paladin seems to be taking it all in his stride, in his usual fashion.</p><p></p><p>Grand Alf flings a flask of oil at the creatures back, it smashes on impact. Dartamor adds to the mess, upending another flask from above, on the creature’s head.</p><p></p><p>The Troll staggers back, looks about for his new enemy, oil in his eyes.</p><p></p><p>Jerky darts in, grabs Aleso and drags him out of the way, his healing touch pumping the Paladin full of vim and vigour, and hit points, of course.</p><p></p><p>“Gy Gighty Gaint Guthbert- Gie Gowl Geast.”</p><p></p><p>Saradomin gargles, and then spits.</p><p></p><p>WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOF</p><p></p><p>It’s flame on.</p><p></p><p>The Troll staggers and flails wildly, the adventurers hang back, stay out of the creatures reach.</p><p></p><p>They take it in turns to dart in, melee weapons to the fore, deliver distracting blows.</p><p></p><p>It’s soon over, the Troll crumples, a steaming black mass, mostly- there are parts of the creature that still seem to be regenerating.</p><p></p><p>“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.”</p><p></p><p>Aleso chops the Trolls head off.</p><p></p><p>The Paladin rolls his shoulders, puffs out his chest.</p><p></p><p>“Pelor bless us in this our great quest, may thy fiery countenance shine forth and bring low all those that stand before us.”</p><p></p><p>He crosses himself, even he realises how close he came to death.</p><p></p><p>“Ditto, replacing Pelor with St. Cuthbert, and for ‘fiery countenance shine forth and’, substitute ‘gnarly knobbly rod of might’, we give thanks.”</p><p></p><p>Saradomin finishes his prayer.</p><p></p><p>In the background Grand Alf has picked up the dead Trolls head and is holding it up before him, think Hamlet with Yorick’s skull in the graveyard scene, except-</p><p></p><p>“I'm standin' here. You make the move.”</p><p></p><p>Grand Alf poses, stares hard at the Troll’s head.</p><p></p><p>“You make the move.</p><p>It's your move.”</p><p></p><p>Grand Alf quick draws a sandwich.</p><p></p><p>Takes a bite- MMm, Magic Smash.</p><p></p><p>“Don't try it, you flip-diddly-doo.”</p><p></p><p>He intones spraying peanuts and breadcrumbs.</p><p></p><p>“You talkin' to me?</p><p>You talkin' to me?</p><p>You talkin' to me?”</p><p></p><p>His sandwich shaking reaches titanic proportions.</p><p></p><p>“Then who the hell else are you talking-- You talking to me?</p><p>Well, I'm the only one here.”</p><p></p><p>He slaps the Troll’s head round the chops with the floppy end of his sandwich, steaming mad.</p><p></p><p>“Who the flip-dickety do you think you're talking to?”</p><p></p><p>He drops the Troll’s head- like it’s just said something nasty about his mum.</p><p></p><p>The head impacts with the floor, crumples- rots away.</p><p></p><p>“Oh, yeah?”</p><p></p><p> Arms out wide, head thrown back, sandwich vibrating furiously.</p><p></p><p>“Err… Grand Alf.” Saradomin calls over- looking behind the Sorcerer, eyes on stalks.</p><p></p><p>“Whaff?” Grand Alf takes a huge bite of sandwich- he’s earned it.</p><p></p><p>“GRAND ALF”, this time the shout is from all of his colleagues- a chorus. They’re all looking behind him.</p><p></p><p>Grand Alf takes another bite of sandwich and saunters around to see what’s so interesting behind him.</p><p></p><p>Oh yes, the Troll, he saunters round again, a moment then his brain catches up with his visual faculties- he juggles his sandwich for a second, then abandons it to gravity, and scarpers.</p><p></p><p>“Flip-a-doodle.”</p><p></p><p>The others step in, alas for the Troll it’s only just on its feet, it seems it’s got up too soon.</p><p></p><p>Aleso and Saradomin flail wildly at the thing.</p><p></p><p>“Pelor… SMASH… kick the… WHACK… out of this… FUMP… foul miscreant.”</p><p>“St. Cuthbert… WHACK… send thy knobbly rod… SMASH… and staff… FUMP… to discomfort this ... THUNK… foul wretch.”</p><p></p><p>And the Troll is in bits again, regenerating slowly still though.</p><p></p><p>The divine duo are a little out of breath.</p><p></p><p>“MORE FIRE.” Jerky shouts.</p><p></p><p>The five some fumble through their packs, while delivering ad hoc beatings to the flopping Troll shaped mush- they strike oil. All that they have, is brought forth, poured on, and flame applied.</p><p></p><p>WHOOOOOOOOF</p><p></p><p>And that really is the end of the creature.</p><p></p><p>“This is rubbish.” Dartamor admires the necklace he ‘found’ earlier- around the Troll’s neck. </p><p></p><p>Jerky, however secures a quality dagger, probably masterwork, and that seems to be the end of the treasure.</p><p></p><p>DMs interlude- you should have seen the looks I got, they thought they were going to be, ‘minted.’ </p><p></p><p>“Right.” Grand Alf states, “let’s get on with the job at hand… rescue the kids, we haven’t got time to waste treasure hunting- people’s lives are at stake.”</p><p></p><p>The Sorcerer shakes his head, disappointed in his colleagues, and then heads off- at a sprint.</p><p></p><p>“What the…” Jerky starts up, but Grand Alf’s gone.</p><p>“I’m afraid you’ll have to get used to him.” Aleso offers.</p><p>“He was sent to us as punishment.” Saradomin states.</p><p>“Penance.” Aleso adds.</p><p>“For past sins.” Saradomin finishes.</p><p></p><p>They wander off.</p><p></p><p>Daratamor approaches a still unmoving Jerky.</p><p></p><p>“It’s the one thing that pair agree on.” Dartamor states, and then he too is gone.</p><p></p><p>Jerky shrugs and follows.</p><p></p><p>Next Turn: Down, down, deeper and down.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Goonalan, post: 3747819, member: 16069"] Turn 5.4 [CENTER]Mwelp Mwe.[/CENTER] The Troll continues to menace Aleso. “MWake Mwit Mwop. MWWake Mwit Mwo MwaMway. Mwelor Mwelp mWe.” The Paladin seems to be taking it all in his stride, in his usual fashion. Grand Alf flings a flask of oil at the creatures back, it smashes on impact. Dartamor adds to the mess, upending another flask from above, on the creature’s head. The Troll staggers back, looks about for his new enemy, oil in his eyes. Jerky darts in, grabs Aleso and drags him out of the way, his healing touch pumping the Paladin full of vim and vigour, and hit points, of course. “Gy Gighty Gaint Guthbert- Gie Gowl Geast.” Saradomin gargles, and then spits. WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOF It’s flame on. The Troll staggers and flails wildly, the adventurers hang back, stay out of the creatures reach. They take it in turns to dart in, melee weapons to the fore, deliver distracting blows. It’s soon over, the Troll crumples, a steaming black mass, mostly- there are parts of the creature that still seem to be regenerating. “AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.” Aleso chops the Trolls head off. The Paladin rolls his shoulders, puffs out his chest. “Pelor bless us in this our great quest, may thy fiery countenance shine forth and bring low all those that stand before us.” He crosses himself, even he realises how close he came to death. “Ditto, replacing Pelor with St. Cuthbert, and for ‘fiery countenance shine forth and’, substitute ‘gnarly knobbly rod of might’, we give thanks.” Saradomin finishes his prayer. In the background Grand Alf has picked up the dead Trolls head and is holding it up before him, think Hamlet with Yorick’s skull in the graveyard scene, except- “I'm standin' here. You make the move.” Grand Alf poses, stares hard at the Troll’s head. “You make the move. It's your move.” Grand Alf quick draws a sandwich. Takes a bite- MMm, Magic Smash. “Don't try it, you flip-diddly-doo.” He intones spraying peanuts and breadcrumbs. “You talkin' to me? You talkin' to me? You talkin' to me?” His sandwich shaking reaches titanic proportions. “Then who the hell else are you talking-- You talking to me? Well, I'm the only one here.” He slaps the Troll’s head round the chops with the floppy end of his sandwich, steaming mad. “Who the flip-dickety do you think you're talking to?” He drops the Troll’s head- like it’s just said something nasty about his mum. The head impacts with the floor, crumples- rots away. “Oh, yeah?” Arms out wide, head thrown back, sandwich vibrating furiously. “Err… Grand Alf.” Saradomin calls over- looking behind the Sorcerer, eyes on stalks. “Whaff?” Grand Alf takes a huge bite of sandwich- he’s earned it. “GRAND ALF”, this time the shout is from all of his colleagues- a chorus. They’re all looking behind him. Grand Alf takes another bite of sandwich and saunters around to see what’s so interesting behind him. Oh yes, the Troll, he saunters round again, a moment then his brain catches up with his visual faculties- he juggles his sandwich for a second, then abandons it to gravity, and scarpers. “Flip-a-doodle.” The others step in, alas for the Troll it’s only just on its feet, it seems it’s got up too soon. Aleso and Saradomin flail wildly at the thing. “Pelor… SMASH… kick the… WHACK… out of this… FUMP… foul miscreant.” “St. Cuthbert… WHACK… send thy knobbly rod… SMASH… and staff… FUMP… to discomfort this ... THUNK… foul wretch.” And the Troll is in bits again, regenerating slowly still though. The divine duo are a little out of breath. “MORE FIRE.” Jerky shouts. The five some fumble through their packs, while delivering ad hoc beatings to the flopping Troll shaped mush- they strike oil. All that they have, is brought forth, poured on, and flame applied. WHOOOOOOOOF And that really is the end of the creature. “This is rubbish.” Dartamor admires the necklace he ‘found’ earlier- around the Troll’s neck. Jerky, however secures a quality dagger, probably masterwork, and that seems to be the end of the treasure. DMs interlude- you should have seen the looks I got, they thought they were going to be, ‘minted.’ “Right.” Grand Alf states, “let’s get on with the job at hand… rescue the kids, we haven’t got time to waste treasure hunting- people’s lives are at stake.” The Sorcerer shakes his head, disappointed in his colleagues, and then heads off- at a sprint. “What the…” Jerky starts up, but Grand Alf’s gone. “I’m afraid you’ll have to get used to him.” Aleso offers. “He was sent to us as punishment.” Saradomin states. “Penance.” Aleso adds. “For past sins.” Saradomin finishes. They wander off. Daratamor approaches a still unmoving Jerky. “It’s the one thing that pair agree on.” Dartamor states, and then he too is gone. Jerky shrugs and follows. Next Turn: Down, down, deeper and down. [/QUOTE]
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