Teluria- The Story So Far - By Joe the Rat
Posted: Tue Sep 04, 2012 4:44 pm
I am hoping this will result in a couple of more players joining our troop.
Joe the Rat has become our unofficial history keeper, though I give out xp bonuses for anyone who writes a blog entry on the website to help keep a running history of the game. I plan on writing my own treatment eventually, but I have been dealing with real life stuff for the last few months.
So here's an extract of Joe's character (Pug the Halfling fighter) story:
It was a stroke of luck running into Dust and Harl on the road. I've got a bit of a reputation as a hot-head, but I'm a nice guy, really. Besides, you never know when you'll run into trouble on the road. Strength in numbers, they say (and when those numbers include a rather imposing looking Human and a Dwarf with a knack for setting things on fire, all the better).
But our journey to Three Roads was uneventful. A pity, really. City wardens are always much happier to see me when I've got bandits to turn in. Not that they're ever happy to see me. Must be my reputation as a mercenary. But we get to town, and take care of some pressing business - getting something to drink. That's where we first set our eyes on Delara. She's the kind of woman that'd make a man try and steal the moon if she asked nicely, and P'thun might not object, if it was for her. I'd a mind to call on her, if she were only of a more reasonable height. Seems that she's the source of many local troubles, in a way. The local wizard, Aladar the "Hey are they serving wine?" ...or something. I wasn't paying close attention. He's a bad combination, a man with the power to twist nature to his bidding, and madly in love with a woman who doesn't care.
It seems our mad magician had asked the fine maid Delara (mmmm) to marry him... to which she replies "When pigs fly." Now, I might not be the shiniest crown in the coinpurse, but it was plain to see how that would end. Sure enough, he went home, and made a flying pig for her. In a bit of absent-mindedness (perhaps there was wine involved?), he left a window open, and it flew away. This is where we come in. He wanted us to find his flying pig. My purse was getting a bit thin, but this was a ridiculous job, particularly for a professional such as myself. It'd take a lot of Gold Imperials to get me on this job.
Five hundred is a lot of Imperials. Dust just about bowled me over when he heard how much. The fella's been feeling a little lean, though if that's normal for him he can't say for sure.
So we get our gear, get ourselves a net from the local general store (run by a strange gnome... but that's like saying "burly dwarf" or "indecisive sproog"... more on him later), and set out to find our pig. Following a lead from a local farmer, we head into the woods. We run into a sorry looking pair of wanderers, who none of us took for well-meaning. Harl was nice enough to feed 'em though, and send them off to town. Maybe Aladar will have some burrowing carp for them to locate. Then our fortunes turned - squealing, and lots of it. Only problem, it was coming from a giant spider web... complete with giant spider. We took a couple of shots at it to bring it down to where we could take care of it properly, preferably squashed flat by The Judge.
Hmm? Oh, that's my mace. It settles arguments very quickly, often in my favor. Wulfram named it. The other suggestion was "Reconsidering Your Thoughts About Having A Family," but the handle wasn't long enough for all of that.
A couple of Dusk's arrows, a few good whacks from The Judge, and a firey bolt from Harl, and it was finished. Now all we had to do was get the web cut down from the tree. This is where we learned that Dwarves do not climb trees. Three times, Harl tried to go up. Three times, he barely cleared the ground before landing unceremoniously on his robust rear. Lucky for us, Dusk knows a bit about gettin' in places, trees included. So up he goes to cut down the web, with it's wildly squealing bundle. Harl and I stand ready with the net, to keep it from getting away. The bundle comes down, and out wriggles a pig.
A big pig.
The wrong pig.
It was, in fact, a large, angry, wild boar.
This was not what we were expecting.
This boar was not happy about being caught in a web, having stray shots lobbed at it, or being dumped on the ground head first. And it decides Harl is the reason it was having a bad day, and goes charging at him. Harl does what a sane being confronted with an angry boar would do - he tries to get away, by climbing the tree he was standing next to. He was moving so fast, I thought he'd just run up the side. The tree, however, was not kind to him, and left him on the ground.
So here is Harl, sitting on the ground next to a rather inhospitable tree, with an angry boar bearing down on him. It would not end well. So I did the only reasonable thing... okay, so maybe reasonable isn't the right way to put it, but no way am I going to let one third or our party die on the first day of our quest, at the business end of the wrong swine. Right before it passes me, The Judge imparts a bit of insight into the Boar, with a fractured skull. It's not going down, but at least now it's after me, not Harl. One problem at a time. I keep it busy, and we take the beast down... and proceed to carve it up for dinner. There's no way I'm letting that much meat go to waste, and boar tastes a lot better than travel cakes. We also found a bit of loot in the spider's webs. So flying pig or no, we've already made some coin, and a rather nice supper. Better luck tomorrow.
You think you’re done for the day, and more trouble comes along.
After we settled out accounts with the boar, and set up to smoke some meat over the fire, we set our watch for the night. So as I’m letting the big guys catch a quick 40, out of nowhere comes this Elf dame, appearing out of the woods like she was coming out of the trees themselves. Now, I’m not normally one for the fair folk, or maybe I’ve been hanging out with the boys too long, but this lithe creature was easy on the eyes. Delicate features, shining eyes, not too tall... But whatever elven magic she may have brought, it was broken the moment she opened her mouth.
Not a charmer, this one.
Seems she’s looking for a Halfling, and thought I might be him. We exchanged a few words, I introduced myself, and recommended that she settle down lest The Judge have a thing or two to say. Apparently we were a bit loud, since we woke up Dust, who has sensitive ears, and Harl, who snores like a rock slide. The other fellas were feeling a bit more sociable, and invited her to join the fire. Apparently the Elf, Euphema, is after a Halfling that robbed her family, under pretenses of being a Gnome. I’m not entirely sure why you’d invest in a Gnome, either, but this charlatan cleaned them out. Revenge – now that I understand. It also turns out she’s one of them fightin’ priests, and had caught wind of our pig on the wing. Given her plight, and useful skills and information, we invited her into our little expedition.
The next day, we follow Euphema’s lead, and find a hole in the ground, guarded by dogs. I’d have passed it by, except that something guarded by dogs is generally worth a look. The dogs also decided they didn’t like the look of us, and that we needed a little attention. That or I yelled at them to come and get me... I’m a little fuzzy on the details. These were fast beasts too – we had a hard time taking them down. Euphema and I got a bite each for our trouble, and poor Harl was treated like a leftover soup bone. He got his justice, though, and roasted one of the hounds to ash. Between the four of us, we managed to get rid of the beasties. Deciding that this had been a fight too heavy to explore the unknown (and Harl was whistling a bit when the wind blew), we slipped back to camp and tended our wounds.
It turns out Euphema’s order has cooking skills that’d give one of those Halfling “Bronze Cooks” a run for their money. That had to be one of the most uplifting meals of left-over boar I’ve ever had (and over the years I’ve had quite a few). I suspect that there may be a bit of divine influence, since she insisted on a prayer before eating, but it pepped everyone up quite a bit. I should probably find out which god she serves... though the lack of eye tattoo narrows it down some. We took the rest of the day to recover our energies before returning to the hole. It was our last lead, and hopefully hadn’t gone too cold.
Coming back to the hole, we find the dogs gone, and no replacements. Either the folks who wanted this place guarded were short on dogs, or there are some very tidy scavengers in these woods. So we poke our noses inside the hole, and find a decent sized cave, and a normal-sized pair of goblins guarding the entrance. That solves the question of where the dogs came from, but that didn’t tell us where our pig got to. Not feeling like taking another day of relaxation and boar jerky, we tried to offload our food on the goblins. They must've decided the boar meat was a token of appeasement or something, because they sent a runner back to their chief.
Apparently the boar went over big, as we got an audience with his high stinkiness, the chief. It turns out the goblins caught our pig, but surprisingly haven’t eaten it. Apparently goblins don’t like pig – they like something called “grubworms.” And with that, my opinion of goblins has officially bottomed out. Something else is eating their grubworms, and the goblins are willing to give us the pig if we can stop whatever is eating their worms. A fair trade of service, I suppose.
If the next thing we meet tries to broker a deal, I'm gonna hit it in the face.
When you plan on punching something in the face, it helps if it's not 20 feet tall.
We found out what grubworms are: Big, and Pink. I mean really big. Lucky for me Halfling isn't a regular part of their complete breakfast. They also don't like light, which made following them a little difficult.
Eventually, we found an odd opening – something freshly dug from the worm tunnels into a natural cave. Following the sounds and smells, we found something big.
A flippin' dragon!
Big, scaly, fire-breathing, and... a bit of a crybaby? This dragon (which apparently is only a little dragon. The old tales don't give accurate figures on size) was separated from its family. (They live in groups? Sweet T'nul, that's not good.) He was the one eating the grubworms. See, he was trapped in the cave by a bunch of rats. He was scared by a bunch of them when he'd hatched (guess he grew big on grubworms), and was afraid to go past them. Harl named him Ferdinand. Apparently its a family name or something.
So if we could get rid of the rats, the dragon would leave, the grubworms wouldn't be eaten, and the goblins would give us the stupid pig. Right.
So we go lookin' for rats. And under the first rock we look under, webs. Giant spider webs, with giant spiders. Yeah, we've had enough of those for a while. We decide to try a different route. Second time's a charm – Giant Rats! And Wererats! Crap, I barely have a silver piece, much less a silver dagger. Doesn't look like the rest are much better off. Retreat and re-plan, that's what Wulfram says.
A good time to take a breather. So while we rest, I look over at Harl, and I get one of those crazy ideas. I took one of the torches the goblins gave us, and wrapped the fuel cloth end around the head of The Judge. If we run into the Ratsies again, maybe a little fire would put 'em down. We try a different route, and run into the wererats again. Maybe it was our display of rat-squashing ability, but this time, they're in a talking mood. Seems they're trapped in here too... by the spiders. Ugh.
.
.
So if we get rid of the spiders, the Wererats will leave, and take their rats, so the dragon would leave so the grubworms would not be eaten, and the goblins would give us the stupid pig.
My people make these sorts of deals for a living? No wonder Papa Walksoft decided to play it even.
.
.
So we go back, and light 'em up. Harl tosses some oil so we can see everything, we light The Judge, and warm up with a little shooting. These cave spiders were smarter than the last batch – they stayed clear of the web while it burned – but it did split them up a little. And they were tough. The first couple went down easy, but after that it was a hard battle. We were down to four left when one got a good bite on Euphema, and the poison took hold. We'd have likely been lost were it not for Harl's quick thinking. He grabbed our pig-catching net and tossed it on one of the spiders. And it worked! A little knife work form Harl, some clever cuts from Dust, and some well-placed blows from The Judge, and they were done. There was a decent pile of loot in the webs too! I think we'd more than made our coin, so the pig is all bonus. Maybe we should eat it ourselves and save Delara some trouble.
So out go the Were-rats, out goes the dragon, and out go us.
Little did we know we had another surprise waiting...
Joe the Rat has become our unofficial history keeper, though I give out xp bonuses for anyone who writes a blog entry on the website to help keep a running history of the game. I plan on writing my own treatment eventually, but I have been dealing with real life stuff for the last few months.
So here's an extract of Joe's character (Pug the Halfling fighter) story:
It was a stroke of luck running into Dust and Harl on the road. I've got a bit of a reputation as a hot-head, but I'm a nice guy, really. Besides, you never know when you'll run into trouble on the road. Strength in numbers, they say (and when those numbers include a rather imposing looking Human and a Dwarf with a knack for setting things on fire, all the better).
But our journey to Three Roads was uneventful. A pity, really. City wardens are always much happier to see me when I've got bandits to turn in. Not that they're ever happy to see me. Must be my reputation as a mercenary. But we get to town, and take care of some pressing business - getting something to drink. That's where we first set our eyes on Delara. She's the kind of woman that'd make a man try and steal the moon if she asked nicely, and P'thun might not object, if it was for her. I'd a mind to call on her, if she were only of a more reasonable height. Seems that she's the source of many local troubles, in a way. The local wizard, Aladar the "Hey are they serving wine?" ...or something. I wasn't paying close attention. He's a bad combination, a man with the power to twist nature to his bidding, and madly in love with a woman who doesn't care.
It seems our mad magician had asked the fine maid Delara (mmmm) to marry him... to which she replies "When pigs fly." Now, I might not be the shiniest crown in the coinpurse, but it was plain to see how that would end. Sure enough, he went home, and made a flying pig for her. In a bit of absent-mindedness (perhaps there was wine involved?), he left a window open, and it flew away. This is where we come in. He wanted us to find his flying pig. My purse was getting a bit thin, but this was a ridiculous job, particularly for a professional such as myself. It'd take a lot of Gold Imperials to get me on this job.
Five hundred is a lot of Imperials. Dust just about bowled me over when he heard how much. The fella's been feeling a little lean, though if that's normal for him he can't say for sure.
So we get our gear, get ourselves a net from the local general store (run by a strange gnome... but that's like saying "burly dwarf" or "indecisive sproog"... more on him later), and set out to find our pig. Following a lead from a local farmer, we head into the woods. We run into a sorry looking pair of wanderers, who none of us took for well-meaning. Harl was nice enough to feed 'em though, and send them off to town. Maybe Aladar will have some burrowing carp for them to locate. Then our fortunes turned - squealing, and lots of it. Only problem, it was coming from a giant spider web... complete with giant spider. We took a couple of shots at it to bring it down to where we could take care of it properly, preferably squashed flat by The Judge.
Hmm? Oh, that's my mace. It settles arguments very quickly, often in my favor. Wulfram named it. The other suggestion was "Reconsidering Your Thoughts About Having A Family," but the handle wasn't long enough for all of that.
A couple of Dusk's arrows, a few good whacks from The Judge, and a firey bolt from Harl, and it was finished. Now all we had to do was get the web cut down from the tree. This is where we learned that Dwarves do not climb trees. Three times, Harl tried to go up. Three times, he barely cleared the ground before landing unceremoniously on his robust rear. Lucky for us, Dusk knows a bit about gettin' in places, trees included. So up he goes to cut down the web, with it's wildly squealing bundle. Harl and I stand ready with the net, to keep it from getting away. The bundle comes down, and out wriggles a pig.
A big pig.
The wrong pig.
It was, in fact, a large, angry, wild boar.
This was not what we were expecting.
This boar was not happy about being caught in a web, having stray shots lobbed at it, or being dumped on the ground head first. And it decides Harl is the reason it was having a bad day, and goes charging at him. Harl does what a sane being confronted with an angry boar would do - he tries to get away, by climbing the tree he was standing next to. He was moving so fast, I thought he'd just run up the side. The tree, however, was not kind to him, and left him on the ground.
So here is Harl, sitting on the ground next to a rather inhospitable tree, with an angry boar bearing down on him. It would not end well. So I did the only reasonable thing... okay, so maybe reasonable isn't the right way to put it, but no way am I going to let one third or our party die on the first day of our quest, at the business end of the wrong swine. Right before it passes me, The Judge imparts a bit of insight into the Boar, with a fractured skull. It's not going down, but at least now it's after me, not Harl. One problem at a time. I keep it busy, and we take the beast down... and proceed to carve it up for dinner. There's no way I'm letting that much meat go to waste, and boar tastes a lot better than travel cakes. We also found a bit of loot in the spider's webs. So flying pig or no, we've already made some coin, and a rather nice supper. Better luck tomorrow.
You think you’re done for the day, and more trouble comes along.
After we settled out accounts with the boar, and set up to smoke some meat over the fire, we set our watch for the night. So as I’m letting the big guys catch a quick 40, out of nowhere comes this Elf dame, appearing out of the woods like she was coming out of the trees themselves. Now, I’m not normally one for the fair folk, or maybe I’ve been hanging out with the boys too long, but this lithe creature was easy on the eyes. Delicate features, shining eyes, not too tall... But whatever elven magic she may have brought, it was broken the moment she opened her mouth.
Not a charmer, this one.
Seems she’s looking for a Halfling, and thought I might be him. We exchanged a few words, I introduced myself, and recommended that she settle down lest The Judge have a thing or two to say. Apparently we were a bit loud, since we woke up Dust, who has sensitive ears, and Harl, who snores like a rock slide. The other fellas were feeling a bit more sociable, and invited her to join the fire. Apparently the Elf, Euphema, is after a Halfling that robbed her family, under pretenses of being a Gnome. I’m not entirely sure why you’d invest in a Gnome, either, but this charlatan cleaned them out. Revenge – now that I understand. It also turns out she’s one of them fightin’ priests, and had caught wind of our pig on the wing. Given her plight, and useful skills and information, we invited her into our little expedition.
The next day, we follow Euphema’s lead, and find a hole in the ground, guarded by dogs. I’d have passed it by, except that something guarded by dogs is generally worth a look. The dogs also decided they didn’t like the look of us, and that we needed a little attention. That or I yelled at them to come and get me... I’m a little fuzzy on the details. These were fast beasts too – we had a hard time taking them down. Euphema and I got a bite each for our trouble, and poor Harl was treated like a leftover soup bone. He got his justice, though, and roasted one of the hounds to ash. Between the four of us, we managed to get rid of the beasties. Deciding that this had been a fight too heavy to explore the unknown (and Harl was whistling a bit when the wind blew), we slipped back to camp and tended our wounds.
It turns out Euphema’s order has cooking skills that’d give one of those Halfling “Bronze Cooks” a run for their money. That had to be one of the most uplifting meals of left-over boar I’ve ever had (and over the years I’ve had quite a few). I suspect that there may be a bit of divine influence, since she insisted on a prayer before eating, but it pepped everyone up quite a bit. I should probably find out which god she serves... though the lack of eye tattoo narrows it down some. We took the rest of the day to recover our energies before returning to the hole. It was our last lead, and hopefully hadn’t gone too cold.
Coming back to the hole, we find the dogs gone, and no replacements. Either the folks who wanted this place guarded were short on dogs, or there are some very tidy scavengers in these woods. So we poke our noses inside the hole, and find a decent sized cave, and a normal-sized pair of goblins guarding the entrance. That solves the question of where the dogs came from, but that didn’t tell us where our pig got to. Not feeling like taking another day of relaxation and boar jerky, we tried to offload our food on the goblins. They must've decided the boar meat was a token of appeasement or something, because they sent a runner back to their chief.
Apparently the boar went over big, as we got an audience with his high stinkiness, the chief. It turns out the goblins caught our pig, but surprisingly haven’t eaten it. Apparently goblins don’t like pig – they like something called “grubworms.” And with that, my opinion of goblins has officially bottomed out. Something else is eating their grubworms, and the goblins are willing to give us the pig if we can stop whatever is eating their worms. A fair trade of service, I suppose.
If the next thing we meet tries to broker a deal, I'm gonna hit it in the face.
When you plan on punching something in the face, it helps if it's not 20 feet tall.
We found out what grubworms are: Big, and Pink. I mean really big. Lucky for me Halfling isn't a regular part of their complete breakfast. They also don't like light, which made following them a little difficult.
Eventually, we found an odd opening – something freshly dug from the worm tunnels into a natural cave. Following the sounds and smells, we found something big.
A flippin' dragon!
Big, scaly, fire-breathing, and... a bit of a crybaby? This dragon (which apparently is only a little dragon. The old tales don't give accurate figures on size) was separated from its family. (They live in groups? Sweet T'nul, that's not good.) He was the one eating the grubworms. See, he was trapped in the cave by a bunch of rats. He was scared by a bunch of them when he'd hatched (guess he grew big on grubworms), and was afraid to go past them. Harl named him Ferdinand. Apparently its a family name or something.
So if we could get rid of the rats, the dragon would leave, the grubworms wouldn't be eaten, and the goblins would give us the stupid pig. Right.
So we go lookin' for rats. And under the first rock we look under, webs. Giant spider webs, with giant spiders. Yeah, we've had enough of those for a while. We decide to try a different route. Second time's a charm – Giant Rats! And Wererats! Crap, I barely have a silver piece, much less a silver dagger. Doesn't look like the rest are much better off. Retreat and re-plan, that's what Wulfram says.
A good time to take a breather. So while we rest, I look over at Harl, and I get one of those crazy ideas. I took one of the torches the goblins gave us, and wrapped the fuel cloth end around the head of The Judge. If we run into the Ratsies again, maybe a little fire would put 'em down. We try a different route, and run into the wererats again. Maybe it was our display of rat-squashing ability, but this time, they're in a talking mood. Seems they're trapped in here too... by the spiders. Ugh.
.
.
So if we get rid of the spiders, the Wererats will leave, and take their rats, so the dragon would leave so the grubworms would not be eaten, and the goblins would give us the stupid pig.
My people make these sorts of deals for a living? No wonder Papa Walksoft decided to play it even.
.
.
So we go back, and light 'em up. Harl tosses some oil so we can see everything, we light The Judge, and warm up with a little shooting. These cave spiders were smarter than the last batch – they stayed clear of the web while it burned – but it did split them up a little. And they were tough. The first couple went down easy, but after that it was a hard battle. We were down to four left when one got a good bite on Euphema, and the poison took hold. We'd have likely been lost were it not for Harl's quick thinking. He grabbed our pig-catching net and tossed it on one of the spiders. And it worked! A little knife work form Harl, some clever cuts from Dust, and some well-placed blows from The Judge, and they were done. There was a decent pile of loot in the webs too! I think we'd more than made our coin, so the pig is all bonus. Maybe we should eat it ourselves and save Delara some trouble.
So out go the Were-rats, out goes the dragon, and out go us.
Little did we know we had another surprise waiting...