A Tunnels and Trolls® play-by-post adventure run by khara_khang
"Pig! Gotta find th' pig! [An oblique reference to Oblique Streams --ed.]" mutters Blodwydd, thrashing in her sleep. Suddenly sitting bolt upright, she bangs her head firmly against the underside of one of the Blue Frog Tavern's sturdy tables.
"Felgercarb!" she exclaims, rubbing her forehead, and checking for sword and dirk. As she does this, the bemused face of Shipy the Hobbit peers under the table as he wonders who has upset his ale.
"O shyu..." remarks Blodwydd. "I hada dream bouta pig an you were there..." she explains.
Crawling out from under the table, she sprawls herself in a chair. "Wango look fur goblins?" she inquires of nobody in particular.
A large gavial [sic] hits the Khazan magistrate's desk, focusing everyone's attention back on the Magistrate, silencing the court and making more than a few people jump with the sudden noise. Looking at the paper before him, the Orc magistrate (dressed in a black robe and wearing a white wig) reads the charges from his high desk.
"All Defendants please rise." (All of you stand.) "Chereva the Centaur, you are convicted of urinating in a public street. Jamara the Brutal you are convicted of beating four yet-to-be convicted thieves. Shipy The Cunning, you are convicted of performing a lewd act in public on a kiwi fruit."
"I'm innocent. I didn't have any clothes at the time!" pleads the Hobbit.
"Silence miscreant!"
"And... Blodwydd the Bold, you are convicted of public intoxication. Instead of sending all of you to the 'Death Trap Equalizer Dungeon' and your possible death, I am instead turning you over to COKAS, Section 13 (City of Khazan Adventuring Service). Failure to perform said task will result in your immediate trip to the 'Death Trap Equalizer Dungeon.'"
"Ok, next case involving Martek the Swamp Rat [A reference to Lizardmen in Red Water Bay --ed.]."
Entering the courtroom, a single pudgy Orc guard looks at the four of you, yawns and then orders you to follow him. He leads all of you across the busy morning street into the "City Building Of Magical Urban Development," stopping at room 131. Motioning all of you inside, he crosses his arms and waits out in the hall (picking his nose only when he is sure no one is looking). Entering, you find a small room filled with hundreds of books and scrolls. All of the walls are lined with book shelves which are stuffed full. Behind the desk sits a young 30-something human wizard who looks up at you as you enter.
"Hello there, civil servants, I've been expecting you. I'm Cobalt Darkwater." The young wizard looks at you and smiles, notices the Hobbit and then frowns slightly.
(Ken's interlude: Gavial in the Court!)
"Hiya blondy", remarks Blodwydd, parking her considerable frame on the corner of the desk. "Moss peeple doan think ahm civil, but ahm glad yew due." Blodwydd leans forward and favors Cobalt with her most winning and ingratiating smile.
Cobalt stares dubiously at the chunk of what may be cooked carrot stuck between her front teeth, and then winces genteelly as the smell of unwashed leathers wafts gently across the desk toward him. "Ah yes, well..." he remarks, "perhaps you'd be more comfortable in that chair over there?"
Chereva looks at her fellow miscreant fems and then at the wizard. She taps the floor impatiently with a hoof, flits at a nonexistent fly with her tail, and finally notices the Hobbit looking up at her chest.
She bends her (very female) torso down toward Shipy, leaning on her oxtongue. "You know, I'm surprised they didn't get me for kicking that slimy Hobbit thief through the walls of the Crazy Wyvern last week. He made a nice splatting sound." She smiles sultrily.
Returning erect, she acknowledges Blodwydd and Jamara with a wink. "Peeing in public---bah! Where else am I supposed to go?" She ruffles her mane and whinnies.
Chereva addresses Cobalt with a winsome smile, "Say, shugah, what we going after this time? Tunnels? Trolls? And please don't say swamp rats. Ugh!"
I smile at the female Centaur. "Everyone always wants to say sweet things to the Hobbit." I turn my attention back to Cobalt.
Cobalt closes the thick leather book (with many pictures) in front of him titled Intimate Troll Anatomy and looks at Blodwydd for a moment (wondering what was he thinking), then to Chereva, Shipy, and Jamara. "As I said, I'm Cobalt Darkwater and all of you have been brought here for an important reason. I need your assistance in a very important mission. You will travel up the Khazani River to a point clearly noted in red ink on this map, which I will give you. Then you will search and find the entrance to Goblin Lake, known as "Fishsquish Lake" to most Goblins. Once you actually locate Fishsquish Lake, you should also be able to find Snorkin, King of the Lake Goblins. Of course you are not just going there for a visit, you will be delivering King Snorkin his lovely new bride.
"I am assuming at least one of you delvers can speak Goblin, right? You have 8 days to fulfill your mission. Here is your map of Khazan and your wilderness map of the area beyond Khazan." Cobalt offers the two scroll-like maps to anyone who will accept them. "There is a boat docked at the river called the Sea Sprite that is waiting for you. You will find it and get on board, as it departs within the hour. Freaketa, King Snorkin's bride, will be on board when you arrive.
"If you go down Tavern Street, about four buildings on your left past the Blue Frog Tavern you will find a place called Toad's Supply Store. There, you each have a 100 gp line of credit. Mr. Toad himself will be expecting you.
"More questions?"
"Now let me gets this straight," Jamara says, leveling a cold gaze at Cobalt as she shifts her weight from one foot to the other. "Stupid thief tries to steal empty coin pouch from me. I beat stupid thief. Stupid thief's stupid friends butt in. I beat them too. I get arrested, and now you say I gotta go play bodyguard to Goblin's wife."
She pauses just long enough to snort before continuing, "I don't know whether to march out, or bash you in tha head and march out. That Deathtrap thing at least sounded interestin'. But since we get 100 gold, I go along. Need to get a better weapon ennyway."
"I am assuming at least one of you delvers can speak Goblin, right?"
"Ooo!" exclaims Blodwydd jumping up off the desk and gesticulating wildy. "Idoanspeakthsqueakystuff", she declaims, "buta bet he does!" pointing at Shipy). "He's rully smart," she adds, drawing herself up grandly and guesturing at the Hobbit. "In fact, heezer party leader!"
"Goblin? Nope, 'fraid not. As a bouncer, I never needed to. A nicely planted hoof works better than words!" she explains, accepting Cobalt's maps. "So, Coby, after we deliver the lucky bride, we're free? Sounds simple enough. The broad walks, though. I ain't carrying no stinky goblin wench!" she smiles especially at Shipy.
"Let's go then, girls! We got an hour!"
I look at Blodwydd. "What!?! Just because I'm a non-human and I happen to be the token Hobbit of the group, you expect me to be able to speak Goblin? well, I'm telling you, those books which tell we can speak all those languages... well, well, they lie!"
"Ok, so maybe I can speak Goblin, just don't tell anyone. Oh Frak™! If the guys back at the Blue Frog Tavern find out I was party leader for a bunch of girls, I'll never live this one down."
I cover my face with one hand when Chereva smiles at me. "I'm cursed," I think to myself. "Why did I have to be so damn handsome?"
I look at Cobalt sternly as only a Hobbit can. "You ain't no antifoaming agent in beer production, and we ain't going on any frelling™ boat ride unless we also get paid! Capiche?"
Cobalt shifts his furrowed gaze to Jamara. "I thought you would say that. Trust me Jamara, you would not like that Deathtrap thingy, even on your very best day. As for bashing my head in, I'm sure that would probably really hurt. Things happen and you learn to deal with them. Now deal with them!" Cobalt nods as Blodwydd speaks. Looking at the Hobbit, he seems to know already, and all too well. Happy that Chereva accepts the maps, Cobalt listens to the Hobbit's demands and sighs.
"I will offer 100 gold to each of you as payment upon your return and conclusion of a successful mission... but only because I like you. Now get out of my office and go do your job. And not another word from any of you or I will reduce all of you to a FineRedMist™!" Cobalt raises one finger before the Hobbit can speak, as if to silence him.
Leaving Cobalt's office (room 131), the Orc guard standing outside, and the City Building Of Magical Urban Development building itself, all of you head out into the busy Khazani street and quickly disappear into the bustling crowd. Vendors of all types hawk their wares as you pass by. All races of folk are out and about this morning.
During your walk to Toad's Supply Store, the Hobbit passes an old friend he calls Tosal Thoth [A reference to Lizardmen in Red Water Bay --ed.], but he doesn't have time to stop and speak to him (he just waves), as all of you are in a hurry.
Fifteen minutes later, you see a building marked with the sign Toad's Supply Store. Walking inside, you find a supply store filled with a wide assortment of items. A white-haired Dwarf can be seen behind the counter.
Standing in the supply store, I reach out and pat Blodwydd on the ass. "You first, sweet cheeks!" I gulp deeply when I realize what I have done without thinking. I attempt to smile as only a yet-to-be-beaten Hobbit can.
Like you could reach that high!
As Shipy absentmindedly pats Blodwydd on the ass, Blodwydd attempts to absentmindedly backhand the miscreant squirt across the room, then turns to inspect a nearby display of swords.
The absentminded backhand from Blodwydd sends me nose diving beneath a nearby herb cabinet. Shaking myself off as only a backhanded Hobbit can (slowly) I raise up and hit my head on the bottom of the cabinet. "Ouch! A fine way to treat the party leader," I mumble to myself (very quietly) as I check to see if I have a fat lip.
"Note to self, more distance needed after patting next time."
Trust me, I can reach that high! <stands on tippy-toes>
Turning from the rack of swords, Blodwydd picks out a pack and bedroll, and then, as she passes an armor display, a greek helm catches her fancy and she adds it to her pile. Going over to the Dwarf behind the counter, she inquires for a week's worth of provisions, some torches, a can of metal polish, and a few feet of leather strapping. "Muh sword hilt needs fixt!" she mutters, catching Shipy's lewd expression at the mention of leather straps.
Chereva acknowledges Mr. Toad with a terse whinny. "I'll have the usual three days' rations, shorty, and hold the onions!" she says, tapping the countertop with the shaft of her oxtongue. Looking up at the sound of a PreviouslyAirborneHobbit™, the centaur dame sighs. "Ah, better make that five days'."
When the Dwarf returns, Chereva arcs her torso gracefully downward over the counter to whisper in the Dwarf's ear, "And do you have any strong ale? You know how my throat tends to get so dry running errands for Cobalt," she demonstrates by caressing her throat in a downward motion that casually ends up somewhere in her cleavage. "That stuff you gave me last time was a little weak! And shorty---"
"I know, keep the change," he interrupts, rolling his eyes.
Chereva winks voluptuously at the Dwarf and turns to Blodwydd nearby. "Gawd, I hope we don't hafta stay for the wedding. Boooring!"
The well-aged Dwarf includes everything thus far requested. He accepts Shipy's list, a list hastily scribbled on a small piece of paper and silently handed to him. Watching the Hobbit rub his enlarged lip in silence, Toad gathers the things noted on the paper, putting them in a pile on the counter top.
"Yes, very nice, Miss Blodwydd, you have an excellent eye for quality. Cobalt said each of you should take two weeks' rations so I took the liberty of including them with your items."
Digging a bottle from beneath the counter and blowing some dust off it, the white haired Dwarf puts it in Chereva's pile. "There you go, Miss Chereva. I'm sure that will suit your very unique tastes. Oh, I do happen to have a very nice set of soft leather saddle bags, Miss Chereva. I'm sure they could come in real handy if you wanted them. Anything else, ladies... er, and Hobbit? Uhmm, Jamara?"
Chereva swishes her mane with surprise. "Why Mr. Toad, how observant and thoughtful! My old saddle bags could indeed use replacing. Thanks!" she offers genuinely. She swivels her (very) human torso around gracefully to retrieve her old saddle bags, and in the process gives Shipy a full spread. The Hobbit faints at the counter.
Chereva nudges the Hobbit with the butt of her oxtongue. "Fainting won't do, short stack, you being our party leader an' all!"
Like all faints I recover quickly. "Okay Chereva, you can be party leader if you want. No offense, but you are girls, and girls never listen to guys, let alone Hobbits. Does that mean I can ride on your back then?" I smile widely as only a true Hobbit can.
"Ahv got plenty uv offense!" Blodwydd remarks to no one in particular, rubbing the pommel of her dirk with a calloused thumb.
Turning to the pile on the counter, she crams her items somewhat haphazardly into the pack, straps on the bedroll, and hefts the resulting bundle experimentally.
"Erm... Might muchfa meeta carry, 'n not slowus down," she observes. "Chereva," she says, glancing up at the Centaur, "wouldja mind carrion somma th' extra grub? Doan think will need it, bujcha never no..."
Chereva turns to Mr. Toad and feigns a sigh. "Do I look like a beast of burden?" She kneels her front legs down to face Shipy. "Yes, you may ride on my back, if it suits you. From that vantage point, I suspect we might not hear your jaw clattering to the floor every time I inhale!" she inhales deeply and nearly drowns the poor Hobbit. "But I'm no party leader, and besides, you speak the squeak, you're less intimidating, and I've heard the Goblin King is sexist!" she smiles sweetly and pinches his cheek. Standing, she slaps the new saddle bags on her flanks and gets some help from Blodwydd. "Sure, Blodwydd, pack it in there. I don't mind at all. But distribute the weight evenly as best you can. Where's that Jamara? We've gotta get to the harbo, pronto!"
Jamara is busy choosing her weapon. Such an important choice, and one to be approached analytically and with great care, examining each one for balance, durability, etc. She scrutinizes them each in turn with a careful eye for detail. Okay, she grabs a warhammer, the heaviest crusher she can afford, and takes a couple of practice swings.
Apologies for the late post. Been having problems at home. I'll try to keep up in the future.
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