A Tunnels and Trolls® play-by-post adventure run by khara_khang
Ebony lies still, cradling herself in her arms, and groans. What she would give for a cup of her Mama's hot cocoa about now! But in truth, the rain that soaks her is also massaging every pore. With the stinging of her cuts and the throbbing of her bruises, it is an interesting cacophony of sensations.
She closes her eyes and concentrates on relaxing every muscle, still cradling herself. She knows that she should first relax and center herself, then look for shelter and the rest of the company.
There is something to be said about the endurance of Elves, especially in light of the relatively short lifespan of Orcs. But apparently their long-lasting nature isn't limited to beats of the heart.
And for all that, they take a constitution hit.
<slow burn>
...his symbiont forces its way up out of Jax's green skin, finds an exit from his clothing, drops to the finely tiled floor beside the Hobbit and then changes into a blob of smoldering black goop.
"Disgusting."
Jay moves closer to attend to the wounded Ebony but before any healing spells can be applied and before she can move for cover, one of the Gargoyles swoops in and snatches Ebony from the floor.
I tried.
What do you do?
Jay looks up at the window through which the Gargoyle abducted Ebony. Not much I can do about it, but Bela might have that capability. "Oh, and if someone wants to drag Jax off the Hobbit, that'd be a plus."
Quickly likes a good book as much as anyone (they allow him to see above the table when he sits in a chair) but he peels himself out of Tolstoy all the same. A battered dis-spirited, and (pop) visible Quickly limps over to Jax. "I," he cocks an eye around for Gargoyles, prepared to call an alert if there's another threat, since that's all he's really capable of handling.
"Er," he says, noticing a smudge on his shoe and scuffing it around with the other foot.
"Ah," he says, scratching behind his ear.
"Well," he continues, looking at the ceiling.
"I really really thought I had a clear shot. I'm sorry I shot you, Jax. I can't seem to do anything right at all."
Jax rolls off the Hobbit onto his back, still reeling from the pain of Harvey's forced departure. The psychic scream his symbiont delivered into the (mostly empty) confines of his skull as Olvarin touched him with his staff resonates yet, reminding him of the equally painful telepathically transmitted anguish of Arnn-Gaxx, Lord and last of the elephantine Haroouugh, who two years ago begged him to end his life after centuries of torture at Gristlegrim's merciless hand. The two plots are nearly parallel, with victims equally ancient and Olvarin's staff playing the part of Jax's scimitar; only this time, Harvey didn't ask to die.
Struggling with the residual nausea and dizziness left over as his body halves and halves again the paralytic effectiveness of the poison in his veins, Jax manages to turn his sinewy neck to face the black goop---the cold ancient essence that used to occupy both a patch of skin behind his shoulder and a dark corner of his mind. "Them's the breaks, Harv. Rest in peace, dude."
Beyond the smouldering mass, Olvarin cringes underneath a table, no doubt fearful of Jax's response. "No worries, Olvarin. It was getting a bit crowded up here," he says tuskily, pointing awkwardly at his temple.
Still supine, Jax takes a moment to regain his equilibrium and to examine the high ceiling of the hall for the Gargoyles. Both of the beasts are gone, one presumably through a broken window high up in the dome through which rain is leaking, and by which lightning strikes outside cast their illuminance into the hall. He also can't help but laugh that he is still alive, despite the best efforts of his foes---and friends---to kill him. Then he thinks of his brother, whisked away untimely by Lerotra'hh's dark magic, and his smile fades. There's no telling where Taran has ended up.
"I really really thought I had a clear shot. I'm sorry I shot you, Jax. I can't seem to do anything right at all."
"S'OK, Quickly," he responds after the Fairy apologizes. "Your heart was in the right place, if not your arrow. Happens to us all. Frak, I once chopped off Taran's finger," he replies, managing a grimace that passes as a smirk. "Once." The warning does not escape the Fairy.
Jax props himself up on his elbow to check on Shipy. "'Fleazian camel' my ass.... You may be fat, hole-digger, but you're as cushy as a cactus. What you packing anyway? By the way, we're even now," he scowls wanly at the Hobbit.
Then Jax sees Grutoss, and surprisingly enough, the Elf Wizard Bela. And there's an oddly familiar statue in the Goth section. "Whoa, looks like the heavy hitters got here. Nice place, Martek. This your home away from Home-Sweet-Swamp?"
There is no evidence of Shipy's father and his dark henchman, and he cannot locate Ebony either. But first things first: get up, regain balance, rub sore ribs, neck. Scratch.
"Dude," he turns unsteadily on his feet to face Shipy, "what is the big beef between you and Daddio?"
Smiling tentatively at Jax's gracious words, Olvarin scuttles out from beneath the heavy wooden desk.
"Sir Jax, I don't understand what that odd green worm had to do with you, nor that it should be dispelled by magic. But I have caused you wrong, and offer my services in recompense."
Olvarin bows, low to the ground, fingers dragging along the library floor.
"Dang, talk about a lack of self-respect..."
Bela returned to the room high in a tower of Minas Thingul. Calenril turned his mind away from the Palantir and looked down from his high seat, twice his own height above the floor. He waited until Bela rose from the floor and lowered himself into the seat across the table from him. "We cannot ignore the signs any longer," he said, "You must return to Khazan."
Bela looked at the Palantir, and with a force of will turned his attention from it back to his father. "I know that, too," he said, "but it is a hard choice. I am not at harmony with Trollworld, and I cannot tell what my fate is, there."
"Neither is it easy to send my only son away, and with slim hope of ever meeting him again. But we must obey the Purpose that sent our people from Middle Earth. You must have faith, and hope. Besides, you have loved ones, there. Perhaps you will find your harmony through them."
Bela obeyed. They entered the Book room. He pulled a book from a shelf and placed it on a stand. It was a thin book simply titled, "Trollworld." He opened it past the title page to a page that was blank except for a single picture of the city of Khazan. Calenril embraced and kissed his son, then said goodbye. Bela reached out and touched the picture, then disappeared.
The world in the picture grew to encompass him, and then he was inside it. Bela stood dazed for a moment as he oriented himself to his new surroundings. He could feel the pain that this world felt from its wounds, and its great power, too. But there was no time yet to think about harmony and healing. First, he had to find the home of Ruth a'Guerré, then he had to find Shipy and the linking book.
Bela's search for Shipy takes him to the Grand Khazan Library. He is looking at a book on ancient Elven jungle temple architecture when the commotion breaks out. He can feel the magical surge from the portal opening. He looks out from the stacks to see a Gargoyle and a familiar-looking group of combatants. At the sight of Jack de Crampon, he has no doubt who they are, and it is clear they need help. He steps back, prepares his newly-honed fire spell, and then steps out and blasts the Gargoyle.
Bela looks on in wonder as Grutoss turns the creature to stone. He bows in acknowledgement to Grutoss, then strides forward toward his friends and says, "Wonders never cease in Khazan! I came here looking for clues to Shipy's whereabouts, and here I find not only him but nearly all of my friends that I left behind. But I see that this in no time for greetings. How can I help?"
Here are Bela's updated stats with spell list. They are optimized for 6th Ed rules, but I like they way are, even if though there is a more optimal set for 5th Ed. So, just ignore the Kremm attribute. His experience has not gone up [since Lizardmen in Red Water Bay --ed.], because he has spent the interim studying magic and doing research.
"Wow... Grutoss, Bela. Cheers from the peanut gallery, mates, those are quite the stunts. Anyway, Miller time! I got a terrible thirst and some underwear to attend to. Seriously though Bela, long time no see. You'll have to teach me that 'super blast' thing. Pyrotechnic!"
The ever-grinning Jack is as hard to understand as ever he was, but Bela has learned that much of his speech is related to alcohol or sex. "Miller time," thirst, and panting must all be about drinking beer, he thinks. He is less sure that it would be safe to give Jack the blasting spell.
"Well met, Jack," he says. "You have mead on your mind, as always, so you must be well. As for the spell, you've always been such a blast that I hardly think you need it."
Standing in the pouring rain the elder Hobbit looks down at the wounded Ebony.
"As Sirina always said, 'We do wrong by the right goddess, but she helps us all along.' Feeling left out, huh heifer? Yeah? Well, I feel the same way about most humans, only I don't usually leave them lying around, but in your case I'll make the exception. The needs of the many outweigh your needs at the moment."
Removing a blackjack from his pocket, Shipy Sr. hits Ebony over the head with it as she starts to get up off the ground. It is well timed, and Ebony collapses back to the cobblestone unconscious.
Ebony take 15 hits of subdual damage directly off her CON. This is enough for her to become unconscious for one minute for each point exceeding her remaining CON prior to this hit. Ebony takes only 1 hit of actual damage.
"When it attacks again, I'll show you our way to end it. Unfortunately you're the bait." He turns and trots away into the darkness.
Jay looks high up to the stained glass window near the domed ceiling and imagines himself looking out into the darkness across the vast city of Khazan as the lightning and driving rain cast foreboding shadows outside. To his surprise, he notices the stained glass window is slowly repairing itself, piece by piece.
Shipy doesn't miss Jax's comments about his pudginess, about them being even, about his father, and the inquiry as to what he was packing, or even the toothy scowling Jax is giving him, which for some reason at the moment reminds him of a Khazan fruit bat. He knows Jax doesn't miss much, but then neither does he. Shipy just shrugs, avoiding the questions. He doesn't think he is that fat, just adequately proportioned for a Hobbit. The truth is that he owes Jax many times over, but he doesn't like to think about that: one never dwells on debts owed. As for his father, there is no easy explanation. You have to know him to understand him. Shipy prefers to avoid the topic altogether if possible. The stuff he is packing will be split later, but now is not the time to do that. Too many newbies would want a cut.
"You're scary looking Jax," he says, looking up at Jax.
"You should see my father," he quips, grinning.
"Thanks for saving me. You are a soldier... a brave Orcish hero."
"No, heros always get killed. I'll be fine."
"Whose stupid idea was this adventure, anyway?"
"Yours."
"Don't undervalue yourself, Jax. You are the heavy hitter, but you're wrong: this is not my home. It smells too clean, the floors are not mushy and they exclude Lizardmen here," Martek adds, grinning slightly.
"I'm just a soldier."
"Don't underestimate yourself."
"I'm being realistic."
"Don't be afraid to understand yourself. We're not as different as you assume. Violent past, no faith in the future, and adventures few would ever understand or even believe. My time grows short, and yours stretches before you. Use it wisely."
"Uh-huh."
"You know, I'd be happy to swap jobs anytime. As a well-known Hobbit would say, 'The right side is the one who wins and that's the side I wanta be on!'" Giving Jax a pat on the back, Martek turns and leaves, not saying a word to Grutoss. Crossing the library, he disappears behind some bookshelves.
Grutoss acknowledges Bela with a nod. "Your group has made a small mess and you still need to clean it up to finish." The Wizard's sharp features indicate the mess to which he is referring is the Gargoyle still on the loose outside somewhere within the city. "The library will repair itself in time."
"You're preachin' to the choir, Grutoss. You want to kill it, we want to kill it. I don't see a helluva lot of difference. We can do it! It's just one Gargoyle. How hard can it be? Gargoyles are not as strong as we are, they're not as brave as we are, they're not as smart---" he stops and cackles. "Okay, two out of three isn't bad."
"Jack, I feel I must apologize to you for mocking your courage in advance," he laughs, then laughs some more. Shipy takes a few steps, listening to Grutoss explain how the Gargoyle mess needs to be fixed, and also noticing some soon to be discarded books piled upon a table nearby. One, by Phillipon Shrugg, is entitled, Outhouse Travesty [last mentioned by Ralathor in Lizardmen in Red Water Bay --ed.] Another, by Slim Jim Rutsalot, is called Trite Hagiography Biography.
"We'll clean up our mess, Grutoss. You need not worry. Good to have you back, Bela. Let's go kick some Gargoyle ass." He heads toward the door through which Kazad and Shipy Sr. exited earlier.
Lilac flies down and lands on Jax's shoulder and offers him a sun-dried lizard, while smiling ever so sweetly.
What do you do?
Bela stiffens when Martek begins to speak with Jax. His past experiences put him on guard against the human, even though he knows Martek is on the side of Good (in his own way). Martek's encouraging words to Jax make an impression on him, though. Bela watches him go, his face softening from guardedness to curiosity. When Martek is gone, he turns to Jax and says, "I deem that you are above all estimation. Perhaps it would be best to avoid judging yourself altogether." Jax smiles (in the Orc way), trusting that it is meant as a compliment.
Bela accepts the assignment to rid the city of the Gargoyle, even though it seems that Grutoss mistakenly considers the group to belong to him.
"I am ready when you are, Shipy. It truly is a joy to work with you again. But tell me now what you know about how to find and stop this creature."
"I'm being realistic."
"Realistic? Jeez, Jax-o, just a soldier? How 'bout a veins-in-his-teeth, blood drinking maniac of a soldier! That sounds more like you. Hero? Not quite. You're gonna need some cologne, a shave and a change of clothes before we can get you to 'hero.'"
Shipy ... [notices] some soon to be discarded books piled upon a table nearby. One, by Phillipon Shrugg, is entitled, Outhouse Travesty; another, by Slim Jim Rutsalot, is Trite Hagiography Biography.
Jack picks up the books and dusts them off a little. It's been a long time since he's seen either of these two jokers, at least not since he first crawled back out of the grave. Sometimes in the midst of all this madness, the adventures, the escapes, the constant clamouring for attention, the fame which is getting a little older and colder by the year, he thinks back to these guys. Shrugg and Rutsalot. Somebody once thought he was good enough to write for. Good enough to raise from the dead. Given life again after having blown the first one.
"Hey, Grutoss, ever hear this one before?"
Jack draws himself up all haughty in his cloak just like he used to in the old days, bows, and opens Outhouse Travesty to the fourth act. And he reads:
"What, ho hang there yonder sagging arses,
How the land was more fecund than fecal,
I recall...
Stink abates after a good rip, as do I.
I retire and bid poo adieu too."
"I used to love that bit. I'll take these if you don't mind. They look a little under-loved and in need of a drink. We make good company, me, Shrugg and Rutsalot."
Jack sticks the two volumes gently inside his cape and makes for the door. Maybe they'll all be hell on wheels again someday. Whatever. Gargoyles to take down, and a press release tomorrow. Nice work if you can get it....
"Alright gents, kill kill kill! Orcs, half-pints all balls out! Let's waste that sucker and wrap this all up with a brew!"
"Seriously though Bela, long time no see. You'll have to teach me that 'super blast' thing. Pyrotechnic!"
"Ditto. Except we've never met."
All is right with the world once again.
To [Jay's] surprise, he notices the stained glass window is slowly repairing itself, piece by piece.
Lucky [the bartender of the Blue Frog Tavern --ed.] might want to consider using one of those for the Tavern's front window.
...one never dwells on debts owed.
One doesn't, but several others do.
"Realistic? Jeez, Jax-o, just a soldier? How 'bout a veins-in-his-teeth, blood drinking maniac of a soldier! That sounds more like you."
Jay sighs in relief, glad the love-fest of the Orc is finally over. While having only favorable opinions of the Orc himself, it seems this can be left to a more appropriate time, such as after the Gargoyle is dealt with and Ebony located (if still alive).
"Alright gents, kill kill kill! Orcs, half-pints all balls out! Let's waste that sucker and wrap this all up with a brew!"
Jay will follow. What's the legal status of a Gargoyle in this city, by the by?
[A recurring theme in eickeric's posts is the dubious existence of legal rights for undead creatures. For example, in Dangerous Creations, he questions Jack's legal rights to possess his so-called "Dagger of Time." --ed.]
Olvarin's gaze bounces from person to person during the lively banter. He does figure out that the strangers are known to Shippy [sic] and the others, and that they have an air of confidence about them as they talk of slaying the recently escaped Gargoyle. Well, there is no reason to disbelieve it, given the evocational skills of one of the newcomers.
Not knowing what else to do, Olvarin falls in at the rear of the Gargoyle hunting party, trotting briskly to keep up.
Quickly peeks around to see if he can find his sword. He'll follow along with the party when they leave, whether he's found it or not.
"What, ho hang there yonder..."
Shindorim7, bravo on your Shrugg excerpt, which had me ROFL! Do I detect shades of Romeo and Juliet? If so, it would fit even more were Shrugg's classic indeed a "Tragedy" (instead of "Travesty," as khara_khang has it). At any rate, if Shrugg were borrowing from Shakespeare here, it would be a travesty nothing short of tragic. ;)
One by one, Jax scowls at Shipy's, Martek's, Bela's and Jack's flattery as only an Orc on a mission can. He may have actually smiled when Bela mistook his scorn of all the adulation for a smile. Or maybe that's what Bela saw? Oh well, no time for paradoxes. I said he was on a mission, right? If there is one recurring theme in Jax's adventures, it is rescuing his ever-stinkin' brother.
"Hold up, Martek!" Exasperated with the rapid-fire sequence of events, losses and reunions, Jax booms the command throughout the tentative silence of the cavernous library as if he were aiming to derail time for a breather. "Taran is missing, not to mention Ebony. Can't you at least stick around to help us find them?" His voice does not lack a twinge of hurt.
Jax then turns to Lerotra'hh's Master Wizard. He is met with a frown that would melt iron, and he nearly balks. "Wizard Grutoss... my brother. He used the Goddess' coin to get out of trouble earlier. He disappeared without a trace, and I have no idea where he is." He turns to Bela, indicating that his plea is addressed to both Wizards. "Can you... help?" Jax almost winces, hoping Grutoss doesn't share the Death Goddess's twisted sense of humor when granting boons.
Lilac flies down and lands on Jax's shoulder and offers him a sun-dried lizard, while smiling ever so sweetly.
"First Bela, now you?" he mutters in disbelief. But he can't resist her smile, nor the tasty lizard snack she offers. "Here's to ya, Lilac," he says in spite of his grim mood, and he gulps the sun-dried lizard down head-first.
Jax waits for Martek's and Grutoss' responses before he joins the others outside.
Welp, to all those who I have not previously played with, Merry Meet! Here's a quick description for yas. My name is Lilac De Sprite and I am a sprite (for those who hadn't already guessed). I have long silver hair, almond shaped green eyes, silver dragonfly-like wings, wear an emerald necklace set in silver (no magical props; it's just prettiful), brown tunic and boots both dusted in silver (they're new; do u like them?) and carry an ivory staff inlaid with silver (with magical properties). Plus I carry basic gear (i.e., pack, food, water, pouch of sun-dried lizards, etc.). Ok, enough of that, lets play!
"Here's to ya, Lilac."
"You know that sun-dried lizards can alwaz brighten up any mood! <giggles>. Come on Jax, cheer up! We're hunting for Gargolyes!"
Jax mumbles sumthing unintelligible as he licks the BBQ flavor from his lips.
"So, like since I am the only one who can fly, do you guyz want me to see if I can find anything out from the air? <giggles> Since you guyz are grounded. <starts laughing> Get it? Grounded? <laughs harder> Ok, just kidding, I'll fly recon but I'm going invis so the Garg doesn't think I'm lunch."
As I fly up into the air, my silver trail vainshes....
"So, like since I am the only one who can fly... I'll fly recon but I'm going invis so the Garg doesn't think I'm lunch."
Jay calls after the errant Fairy. "You might want to rethink that. We have another Fairy in the group, and it appears that the Gargoyles can see you when you turn invisible."
<sticks tongue out at you> Now you tell me, mister know-it-all. So where's your new Fairy? It would be nice to have a little help. Anyways, I like going invs on you. It makes it more fun! <giggles> Boy, I bet you didn't miss me at all.
Now you tell me, mister know-it-all.
"Possibly because you just joined us?"
Boy, I bet you didn't miss me at all.
"Never heard of you before."
[As misfit_sprite points out below, eickeric has mistaken misfit_sprite's last post as being in character. --ed.]
Sorry Peasblossom, but I'm using a different character than the last time we were fortunate enough to go delving together [Lilac adventured with eickeric's Michael of the Midnight Magics in Goblins in the Mist --ed.]. Triple M is out and about elsewhere searching for his long-lost rhino. Jay's new to you, and you to him. ;)
"So, like since I am the only one who can fly...."
Quickly, looking up from the search for his blade, snorts. "Fairies." He goes on with his search.
Jay's new to you, and you to him. ;)
OK, just because I am from Cali, it doesn't mean we are all blonde airheads. If you would have opened your eyes, that whole post was written OCC [sic], you know, out-of-character. Geesh, and they say I spend too much time in the sun!! Hehehe.
But there's only one "c" in character. ;) [Really? ;) --ed.]
"Normal is boring, different is good." I pride myself on being the latter. :P~
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