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The One True Game: According to Hoyle, and Others
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<blockquote data-quote="howandwhy99" data-source="post: 2498626" data-attributes="member: 3192"><p>Cyrus asked if anything actually interesting happened in Hamlet. Then he remembered he was to be on the look out for one or two people who were dangerous. Elmo told him a list of folks who had come and gone through town recently. Cyrus was well into his cups by then though. All he could remember was to tell the man and woman that their “Zerkle” had arrived the day before. By the time he dutifully finished off his fiftieth ale he was feeling fairly warm. So ignoring the others he moved closers to the fire pit and closed his eyes for a short nap.</p><p></p><p>Kayla and Igor doubled back once the dwarf entered the Inn. Igor had picked out the general store and the main reason they had split off from the others was to purchase supplies there. At least it was one of the main reasons. There was no sign, only full sacks of grain and some large wooden barrels stacked outside the door to mark the building’s purpose. Inside a wide variety of wares were set out on the floor and on shelves. It was more than Mouse had ever displayed. Haggling with the man behind the counter, a jovial fellow named Gremag, was difficult. In the end they purchased several weeks worth of cured rations for the whole team and a massive vat of lamp oil. Gremag watched as Igor declined his help with the vat and placed every item in his pack instead. Once finished Kayla and Igor split up to deal with private matters. They walked off in opposite directions as the sun set.</p><p></p><p>“Here cleric, cleric, cleric. Heeeeeere cleric.” Igor stumbled though the warren of building blocks near the unfinished temple to the northeast of town. The structure was by far the largest in Hommlet and still not complete. Ahead over a dozen elderly workers still toiled in dusk’s light while setting stone and mortar. Igor felt a tap on one shoulder. “Ack! Me bad spot.” He turned and saw a priest behind him and straightened back up. “Just an ol’cookin’ injury.” After explaining how he worked for Lord Ratcliffe in Margrave Keep “as ‘s personal chef” Igor managed to convince the cleric to sell him some healing potions, one then and one in the morning. The Father prattled on a bit and Igor’s training kicked in. He made sure to listen to every detail. Other than his name, Father John, there was not much to learn. Building was slow, but completion was within sight. Only now the priest worried the Old Faith was making a comeback. When full darkness fell Igor took his leave, but decided not to head to the Inn quite yet.</p><p></p><p>Circling around a thick grove of trees the Hommletites apparently kept well tended in the center of town, Kayla saw the sun setting on a small stone tower atop a low rounded hill. It was the place she had been told to look for. Climbing up the hillside she saw a door open in the tower above. Two men exited, one as if in a dream. “Rufus?” she called out. The one in armor waved her forward with a smile. </p><p></p><p><img src="http://www.geocities.com/dbedell2002/Rufus-Burne.JPG" alt="" class="fr-fic fr-dii fr-draggable " data-size="" style="" /></p><p></p><p>Inside the tower was an expertly decorated abode designed to suit both men’s sensibilities. After introductions and pleasantries were made the conversation became more esoteric. Rufus posited a divine exculpation of mystic energies, but not arcane listing off their contrafibularities in support. Kayla listened attentively. She was back in her element of choice. Time slipped by unnoticed until the witching hour. Feeling drowsy Kayla nevertheless remembered to show the red, powdery, chalk of the Godnail to the two men. Neither knew what to make of it, but offered some potions and a scroll in exchange for a small portion. Warily they collected a pinch in a steel vial without touching it. More was promised in the future for another scroll which had not been on hand. Goodbyes were said as the night was already half passed. “Don’t be a stranger.”</p><p>“I won’t Burné.” Kayla said. </p><p></p><p>She left and walked with a torch back toward the Inn. In the starlight she saw a skulking figure move out of the shadows. It giggled gleefully. “Igor?”</p><p>“At your service m’lady.” Igor bowed in the torchlight. The two entered into the Welcome Wench and spotted their dwarven guardian asleep upon the floor. Rousing the innkeeper they finally found a place to rest for the night.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="howandwhy99, post: 2498626, member: 3192"] Cyrus asked if anything actually interesting happened in Hamlet. Then he remembered he was to be on the look out for one or two people who were dangerous. Elmo told him a list of folks who had come and gone through town recently. Cyrus was well into his cups by then though. All he could remember was to tell the man and woman that their “Zerkle” had arrived the day before. By the time he dutifully finished off his fiftieth ale he was feeling fairly warm. So ignoring the others he moved closers to the fire pit and closed his eyes for a short nap. Kayla and Igor doubled back once the dwarf entered the Inn. Igor had picked out the general store and the main reason they had split off from the others was to purchase supplies there. At least it was one of the main reasons. There was no sign, only full sacks of grain and some large wooden barrels stacked outside the door to mark the building’s purpose. Inside a wide variety of wares were set out on the floor and on shelves. It was more than Mouse had ever displayed. Haggling with the man behind the counter, a jovial fellow named Gremag, was difficult. In the end they purchased several weeks worth of cured rations for the whole team and a massive vat of lamp oil. Gremag watched as Igor declined his help with the vat and placed every item in his pack instead. Once finished Kayla and Igor split up to deal with private matters. They walked off in opposite directions as the sun set. “Here cleric, cleric, cleric. Heeeeeere cleric.” Igor stumbled though the warren of building blocks near the unfinished temple to the northeast of town. The structure was by far the largest in Hommlet and still not complete. Ahead over a dozen elderly workers still toiled in dusk’s light while setting stone and mortar. Igor felt a tap on one shoulder. “Ack! Me bad spot.” He turned and saw a priest behind him and straightened back up. “Just an ol’cookin’ injury.” After explaining how he worked for Lord Ratcliffe in Margrave Keep “as ‘s personal chef” Igor managed to convince the cleric to sell him some healing potions, one then and one in the morning. The Father prattled on a bit and Igor’s training kicked in. He made sure to listen to every detail. Other than his name, Father John, there was not much to learn. Building was slow, but completion was within sight. Only now the priest worried the Old Faith was making a comeback. When full darkness fell Igor took his leave, but decided not to head to the Inn quite yet. Circling around a thick grove of trees the Hommletites apparently kept well tended in the center of town, Kayla saw the sun setting on a small stone tower atop a low rounded hill. It was the place she had been told to look for. Climbing up the hillside she saw a door open in the tower above. Two men exited, one as if in a dream. “Rufus?” she called out. The one in armor waved her forward with a smile. [img]http://www.geocities.com/dbedell2002/Rufus-Burne.JPG[/img] Inside the tower was an expertly decorated abode designed to suit both men’s sensibilities. After introductions and pleasantries were made the conversation became more esoteric. Rufus posited a divine exculpation of mystic energies, but not arcane listing off their contrafibularities in support. Kayla listened attentively. She was back in her element of choice. Time slipped by unnoticed until the witching hour. Feeling drowsy Kayla nevertheless remembered to show the red, powdery, chalk of the Godnail to the two men. Neither knew what to make of it, but offered some potions and a scroll in exchange for a small portion. Warily they collected a pinch in a steel vial without touching it. More was promised in the future for another scroll which had not been on hand. Goodbyes were said as the night was already half passed. “Don’t be a stranger.” “I won’t Burné.” Kayla said. She left and walked with a torch back toward the Inn. In the starlight she saw a skulking figure move out of the shadows. It giggled gleefully. “Igor?” “At your service m’lady.” Igor bowed in the torchlight. The two entered into the Welcome Wench and spotted their dwarven guardian asleep upon the floor. Rousing the innkeeper they finally found a place to rest for the night. [/QUOTE]
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