A Crazy Fool
First Post
Chars in this story are:
Dgoz: kyton warmage 3
Ker: Treant ftr 5
"your name here" doppleganger drd 9
Jorg: Urskan ftr8
Dagoz quickly ducked his head behind the boulder. This was followed by the loud clanking of the chains that he wore. After mentally reciting a ridiculous litany of expletives in infernal; he prayed, not to anything in particular that the two Osyluths would neglect to look his way. His attempts at piousness were rewarded, as the two devils continued to walk by. The Kyton cursed his luck that his higher-ups would choose this exact moment to send two bone devils on business to the exact area he was in, it could not possibly have been a coincidence. He sat down, slowly this time and made himself somewhat comfortable; it seemed that he would be waiting for quite some time. Dagoz had no doubt in his mind that two Osyluths would not present a real challenge, however killing them quickly enough to prevent them from summoning allies was another matter altogether. He sat for some three hours before the two devils vanished. Hundreds of years of evading his wrathful superiors had taught him the value of hiding, and waiting. Especially waiting.
Dagoz peered cautiously at the boat moored on the banks of the river which had become his temporary residence. It didn’t belong; he estimated the boat was about forty-five feet long and less than seven wide. It had a disproportionately large sail dyed a mottled green-brown. There was no symbol of any guild, merchant or otherwise that he recognized. The crew was busily and cautiously loading crates onboard. Even more suspicious was the presence of a three-person watch. Judging by his manner and the “yessirs” issuing from the others, the leader seemed to be a short half-orc with a tattooed pattern of thorns on his reddish face the nail in the coffin was the two small horns on his forehead, a half-fiend. After considering the outcome of a fight with the crew Dagoz decided to stow away onboard, without being noticed if possible. Slowly the Kyton swam to the (as he inferred) smuggler’s ship. When he reached the ship he whispered an incantation and pointed at the portion of the hull of the ship that was under water. Moments later a hissing ball of purple acid leapt from his fingertips. Dagoz submerged and put his mouth to the hole he created. Then he attached several of the hooks at the end of his chains to the hull of the ship. After he felt the ship start to move he tore a hole through the ship, large enough to pull his body through. In the hold were hundreds of crates labeled “weapons.” Dagoz managed to create a makeshift patch for the hole he had made. Then his curiosity got the better of him and he opened a long thin crate. What he saw was very familiar, wicked, saw-toothed glaives; obviously made for bearded devils. Quietly he opened another box it was full of crimson red longbows complete with arrows and spare strings. Dagoz determined that this ship would not reach it’s intended destination. An attack on a target on the material was a rare occurrence indeed, and he would have to find someone important who would trust him. Even more so now, that it was unsafe to speak with his old companions for periods of time longer than a short sending. He fingered his sending stone but decided against it, it would be unwise to alert his companions yet. Except, perhaps for Shade, she was quite capable of keeping secrets as well as being able to mount a guerilla offensive against the Baatezu strike-force.
Ker (this was the nickname given to him by those who spoke common.) relaxed; leaning on his greatsword he enjoyed the view of the surrounding marsh from his lofty vantage point. The limestone rock was on the very edge of the marsh and it provided an excellent view of the ocean. This was one of the few places where one could see more than a few hundred feet in the eternal grey haze of Blackmoor. On the horizon the mangrove tree saw something out of the ordinary; a boat covered in grey cloth with a grey sail. The ship moved to a patch of shallow water, probably to anchor. Non-druids in Blackmoor were quite rare; this curiosity had to be observed. Ker moved off his rocky perch towards the ship. At a relatively unimposing distance of one-hundred feet the Ent hailed the crew of the ship, “Who are you?” The apparent spokesperson responded quickly “Does not concern you.” “Fine then, what are you doing here?” “Mooring.” Was the truncated reply. “Fine then, but under two conditions, no cutting my trees and no fire.” The spokes person laughed and then drew something that looked like a club from his back. Ker remained indifferent to the apparent challenge. Then the half-orc drew a tindertwig from another pouch and lit the torch. “Alright, you have five seconds to extinguish the torch, five, four, thr…” Ker saw a chain wrap around the arm of the half orc like a living thing. The chain dug into the arm to which it was attached causing the torch to drop to the deck of the ship. Momentarily the deck of the ship caught fire and a figure covered in shining silvery chains jumped into the water from the burning ship. Mysteriously the ship exploded in a fiery blast as the chain-clad figure ducked under the water. Ker stood and stared then he noticed a black patch spreading through the water. He plodded over to investigate. Ker saw a silver, person shaped object that seemed to be the source of the blood underwater. Slowly and carefully he picked the object up. It was definitely a person and it was definitely alive.
Dagoz woke on a sun-covered limestone rock. Based upon the fact that his chains were dry and the fact that his wounds were almost completely healed Dagoz guessed he had been out of water for at least an hour. Then, realizing that the piece of wood lodged in his lower leg had been removed he jumped up and looked nervously around. All he saw was a large mangrove tree, with legs and arms and a head. “Oh you’re awake.”
Dgoz: kyton warmage 3
Ker: Treant ftr 5
"your name here" doppleganger drd 9
Jorg: Urskan ftr8
Dagoz quickly ducked his head behind the boulder. This was followed by the loud clanking of the chains that he wore. After mentally reciting a ridiculous litany of expletives in infernal; he prayed, not to anything in particular that the two Osyluths would neglect to look his way. His attempts at piousness were rewarded, as the two devils continued to walk by. The Kyton cursed his luck that his higher-ups would choose this exact moment to send two bone devils on business to the exact area he was in, it could not possibly have been a coincidence. He sat down, slowly this time and made himself somewhat comfortable; it seemed that he would be waiting for quite some time. Dagoz had no doubt in his mind that two Osyluths would not present a real challenge, however killing them quickly enough to prevent them from summoning allies was another matter altogether. He sat for some three hours before the two devils vanished. Hundreds of years of evading his wrathful superiors had taught him the value of hiding, and waiting. Especially waiting.
Dagoz peered cautiously at the boat moored on the banks of the river which had become his temporary residence. It didn’t belong; he estimated the boat was about forty-five feet long and less than seven wide. It had a disproportionately large sail dyed a mottled green-brown. There was no symbol of any guild, merchant or otherwise that he recognized. The crew was busily and cautiously loading crates onboard. Even more suspicious was the presence of a three-person watch. Judging by his manner and the “yessirs” issuing from the others, the leader seemed to be a short half-orc with a tattooed pattern of thorns on his reddish face the nail in the coffin was the two small horns on his forehead, a half-fiend. After considering the outcome of a fight with the crew Dagoz decided to stow away onboard, without being noticed if possible. Slowly the Kyton swam to the (as he inferred) smuggler’s ship. When he reached the ship he whispered an incantation and pointed at the portion of the hull of the ship that was under water. Moments later a hissing ball of purple acid leapt from his fingertips. Dagoz submerged and put his mouth to the hole he created. Then he attached several of the hooks at the end of his chains to the hull of the ship. After he felt the ship start to move he tore a hole through the ship, large enough to pull his body through. In the hold were hundreds of crates labeled “weapons.” Dagoz managed to create a makeshift patch for the hole he had made. Then his curiosity got the better of him and he opened a long thin crate. What he saw was very familiar, wicked, saw-toothed glaives; obviously made for bearded devils. Quietly he opened another box it was full of crimson red longbows complete with arrows and spare strings. Dagoz determined that this ship would not reach it’s intended destination. An attack on a target on the material was a rare occurrence indeed, and he would have to find someone important who would trust him. Even more so now, that it was unsafe to speak with his old companions for periods of time longer than a short sending. He fingered his sending stone but decided against it, it would be unwise to alert his companions yet. Except, perhaps for Shade, she was quite capable of keeping secrets as well as being able to mount a guerilla offensive against the Baatezu strike-force.
Ker (this was the nickname given to him by those who spoke common.) relaxed; leaning on his greatsword he enjoyed the view of the surrounding marsh from his lofty vantage point. The limestone rock was on the very edge of the marsh and it provided an excellent view of the ocean. This was one of the few places where one could see more than a few hundred feet in the eternal grey haze of Blackmoor. On the horizon the mangrove tree saw something out of the ordinary; a boat covered in grey cloth with a grey sail. The ship moved to a patch of shallow water, probably to anchor. Non-druids in Blackmoor were quite rare; this curiosity had to be observed. Ker moved off his rocky perch towards the ship. At a relatively unimposing distance of one-hundred feet the Ent hailed the crew of the ship, “Who are you?” The apparent spokesperson responded quickly “Does not concern you.” “Fine then, what are you doing here?” “Mooring.” Was the truncated reply. “Fine then, but under two conditions, no cutting my trees and no fire.” The spokes person laughed and then drew something that looked like a club from his back. Ker remained indifferent to the apparent challenge. Then the half-orc drew a tindertwig from another pouch and lit the torch. “Alright, you have five seconds to extinguish the torch, five, four, thr…” Ker saw a chain wrap around the arm of the half orc like a living thing. The chain dug into the arm to which it was attached causing the torch to drop to the deck of the ship. Momentarily the deck of the ship caught fire and a figure covered in shining silvery chains jumped into the water from the burning ship. Mysteriously the ship exploded in a fiery blast as the chain-clad figure ducked under the water. Ker stood and stared then he noticed a black patch spreading through the water. He plodded over to investigate. Ker saw a silver, person shaped object that seemed to be the source of the blood underwater. Slowly and carefully he picked the object up. It was definitely a person and it was definitely alive.
Dagoz woke on a sun-covered limestone rock. Based upon the fact that his chains were dry and the fact that his wounds were almost completely healed Dagoz guessed he had been out of water for at least an hour. Then, realizing that the piece of wood lodged in his lower leg had been removed he jumped up and looked nervously around. All he saw was a large mangrove tree, with legs and arms and a head. “Oh you’re awake.”
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