A Tunnels and Trolls® play-by-post adventure run by khara_khang
"You live. They do not. I watch the deck the whole time. I see no one go over. I also see crew's quarters go boom. They not survive."
The Goblin Princess considers Jamara's words and quickly decides that attempting to argue any particular point with Jamara is a no win situation and remains silent, at least for the moment. Instead she just sits there and pouts.
Shipy and Freaketa are both surprised when Blodwydd places them on Chereva's back, but neither of them protest. With the Warrior Blodwydd leading, Chereva (with Shipy and Freaketa riding) in the middle, and Jamara bringing up the rear, the newly formed, mostly fem adventuring group heads into the forest at a good pace following a forest trail. The pace is much faster than if Shipy or Freaketa walked. With a simple touch from Chereva's hand and the use of her innate Poor Baby spell, Blodwydd's wounds on her bandaged arm heal over, scab, and then fade away in a matter of 30 seconds without even leaving a scar or a visible trace of their existence.
"Isn't that warrior-ess Blodwydd something, Chereva? Great kisser, too. If I could only understand her.... She speaks human slang, I think." The Hobbit chuckles to himself as if he just invented a new jibe aimed at Chereva.
The early morning passes uneventfully to noon and then late afternoon as the group continues their trek within the thick forest. Being in the lead, Blodwydd soon feels the hair on the back of her neck stand up. Pausing to look around, she notices nothing but feels something. The others catch up as Blodwydd holds her position.
Not more than twenty feet away, a large and ancient Dragon becomes visible. Its length is well over eighty feet and its scales almost follow the colors of the rainbow. Intentionally turning its head away from you, it spits a burst of fire which engulfs the path ahead of you. The very green underbrush does not burn very long.
"You dare to tread in my forest? I am Shindorillimum The Great. Tell me why I should not eat you now?"
What do you do?
"Whoah Nelly! I'm to young to die!" I gasp to Chereva upon seeing the dragon, trying not to wet my pants.
"Because it's hard to chew your food without your teeth!" Jamara promptly replies, raising her hammer defensively. "But if food you wanted, you would have attacked by now. Tell us what you want, or get out of our way!"
At the Dragon's fiery belch, Chereva rears up on her hind legs instinctively, nearly throwing off her demi-human riders, who hang on for dear life. She returns to earth and whinnies apprehensively, but keeps her oxtongue in check for fear of incurring the drac's wrath. Jamara raises a good point, and to hedge their bets, she adds some less belligerent words to the pot, "O great Shindorillimum, we are just passing through your woods, but only on account of having been earlier shipwrecked downstream. We had no idea we were trespassing! Honest!" She blinks her most persuasively.
At the sight of the huge worm and the gout of flame it produces, Blodwydd emits a peculiar choking noise and grabs instinctively at the hilt of her sword, but then thinks better of it. Staring as though hypnotized, she does not add anything to the comments by Jamara and Chereva, but does begin to sidle away from where the rest of the group are bunched up on the path, toward the river, never taking her eyes off the great beast.
For a long moment there is a paused silence as Shindorillimum The Great listens to the women. Without warning and with great speed, the forest Dragon reaches out and grabs Jamara, as easily as a child would snatch a toy. Her arms are instantly pinned to her sides as its long clawed fingers reach completely around Jamara and more. Shindorillimum pulls Jamara up close to get a better look at her. A smile crosses the Dragon's lips as he considers the snack.
"Fiddlesticks and fiddle-dee-dee, bosh and balderdash. What I don't know has never gotten me in half as much trouble as what I know that ain't so, and what I do know is that I'm here to help you Jamara, all of you in fact. Yes, I know all of your names, Cobalt sent me to speed you on your journey. A quick Dragon flight and I can take you where you need to go in a jiffy. We could be there by nightfall, that is, if all of you agree. Will you fly with me or continue on foot and fight those creatures waiting for you up ahead?" Shindorillimum gestures on down the path with one clawed finger.
As if handling a very breakable glass trinket, Shindorillimum puts Jamara back down on the ground and releases her, raising his head up out of her hammer's reach. His magnificent scales glisten with a rainbow of colors.
"I say we continue as we are," adds the princess.
What do you do?
Having her arms pinned to her side and feeling rather helpless, (what she loathes more than anything else) Jamara responds the only way she can. By trying to sink her teeth into the offending fingers.
Not too bright and probably pointless, but I gotta play in character. ^-^
At the Dragon's lunge, Blodwydd's sword is out of her scabbard and into a guard position. However, as the Dragon makes no further aggressive moves, and in fact sets Jamara back down, Blodwydd checks her instinct to attack, although she does not lower her sword again.
"Hah! Wass mu name then?" she shouts at the Dragon in challenge to his boast. And aside to Chereva she remarks, "Critters weekin fight w'steel. But Dragonser tricksy!"
"Aye, Dragons will be Dragons," Chereva replies to Blodwydd, and looks over at Jamara to see that she's unharmed. If Shindorillimum is telling the truth, then Cobalt must have called in a few favors to send this huge wyrm in the capacity of beast of burden. She feels an unbidden pang of empathy for the noble beast and her mission suddenly takes on new significance. "This really isn't another of Cobalt's petty errands," she thinks, as she openly stares in awe.
"And even if we accept your generosity, Great One, how will you carry me, a Centaur?" she queries humbly with an innocent smile. Turning her (very) human torso around to her riders, Chereva whispers, "I must admit, an aerial reconaissance would help us find the place we seek much faster."
After setting Jamara back down, Shindorillimum looks at his clawed fingers and then the dark skinned female human. She actually bit him! He raises a scaly eyebrow in surprise and astonishment. Shindorillimum turns his attention to Blodwydd when she removes her sword from her scabbard. The motley band of females has surprised him thus far.
"Wass mu name," Shindorillimum repeats verbatim with added sarcasm. "Lass... your name would be Blodwydd the Bold who-might-just-get-her-ass-barbecued if she doesn't put that sword away." Shindorillimum looks towards the others, hesitating. "If you accept my generosity, I will also carry you, Centaur. I have carried much heavier items. We should leave now!" The great colorful worm flexes his dagger sharp claws almost nefariously.
"How do we know you won't eat us?" asks the Hobbit.
"I've already eaten... Mr. Hobbit, and you would be nothing more than a stinky little snack which most likely would become stuck in my teeth," quips the forest Dragon, showing the Hobbit its teeth.
Shocked, he manages, "If Freaketa doesn't want to ride the Dragon, then I say we do it!" says the Hobbit, as only a Hobbit can.
"Why you little... rank onion-eyed minnow-reeky plume-plucked miscreant roguish pottle-deep moldwarp ruttish pox-marked mumble-news saucy reeling-ripe nut-hook spleeny rough-hewn... twirp!" she says, greatly irritated, and in a non-princess like way.
What do you do?
"I not mind fighting them," Jamara says, "But soon as we get her to where she go, that when we get paid. If lizard sent to give us ride, okay."
Jamara glares up at lizard lips, a dark scowl on her face. "But no more grabbing...." she says in an icy voice. "No one ever grab me again, and be happy about it. Not ever again!"
The more perceptive might pick up that she's not just talking about the Dragon....
Chereva says to Jamara and Blodwydd, "Whelp, Dragon's convinced me." Facing the imposing wyrm, she states, "Shall we proceed, Great One?"
Chereva shakes her rump with a "Ride's over kiddos!" and then helps Freaketa down with a surprisingly firm arm. Shipy hops down with a soft smack on the forest trail, gets up and dusts himself off.
The Centaur looks at Shindorillimum's sleek scales, and squints. "I sure hope you get good mileage, 'cuz my kin ain't exactly known for our optimal aerodynamic profiles," she sighs sweetly, checking out her own curves, optimal in other ways.
I hop down with a soft smack onto the forest trail, get up and dust myself off. I wonder where my identical twin brother also named Shipy is at this moment. [A reference to Shipy's involvement in the concurrent Oblique Streams PBP game at the BFT --ed.]
Moving around in front of Chereva, I notice her vest has popped open. "Woo, nice ones Chereva... thanks!" I chuckle as only a truly impressed Hobbit can, not quite understanding the gravity of the situation.
Jamara slings her hammer across her back, keeping a wary eye on the Dragon as she climbs up on its back.
After a long dubious look at Chereva, Blodwydd reluctantly returns her sword to its scabbard. "Yoo better bee ryta bout this," she admonishes the Centaur, then turns unhappily to follow Jamara's example.
Shindorillimum turns his head back and forth watching those who are speaking. Once they have finished and decided, he lowers himself to the ground. Jamara, Freaketa, Shipy, and Blodwydd climb on in that order.
"I'm sorry for grabbing you, Jamara. I should not have done that," he pauses. "Some grievances can never be forgiven." The Dragon's eyes look almost compassionate for a moment as Shindorillimum turns his head to view the four riders on his back, notably Jamara (seated in front). Making several loud sniffs, Shindorillimum eyes Freaketa for a tense moment. "I sense a very powerful magic on you Goblin fem, something you should not be entitled to."
Irritated, she remains silent. Even Goblins know better than to argue with Dragons.
Shindorillimum rises to his feet. Reaching out, he grips Chereva around her body close to her front legs with his front clawed fingers/feet, easily lifting her off the ground. With a great burst of energy and strength, Shindorillimum leaps up into the air and his great wings begin beating. A terrible torrent of debris fills the air. Tree limbs break and are battered away as the great Dragon lifts up out of the trees and departs, gaining altitude and speed in the failing light of the late afternoon sun. Minutes later, the Dragon is up over two thousand feet in the air and flying at breakneck speed. The Mistywood forest, Khazan river, plains of Ephran---all can be seen far below.
The small frightened Hobbit leader, his teeth chattering, takes one of Blodwydd's arms, pulls it around him and hopes it will keep him safe.
What do you do?
"Arooo! What acceleration! What a view! I'm queen of the world!"
"I want to go home!" I whisper, clinging to Blodwydd.
Jamara nods at the apology and clamps her legs tightly around the base of the Dragon's neck.
Not being the type to brood on her misgivings, Blodwydd digs her heels in, gets a firm grip on some scales, and gives her self over to the sensation of flight. Noticing the Hobbit clinging to her, she frees a hand and fondly ruffles his hair. "Sokay, lil' guy! Juss doan look down!" she says, gesturing groundward.
The entire province opens up as Shindorillimum's great wings bear you northward at an accelerated pace. Whether you are witless with fear or beguiled by the spectacle of true dragon flight, the world below seems insignificant in a phantasmal way. Shindorillimum's nostrils flare in distaste as he contemplates the rank of tangled weeds in which Cobalt has knowingly placed him and now his fellow travelers. At least flying them there will discourage too close a pursuit. Shindorillimum casts his eyes and thoughts far below in a silence as deathly as any tomb. The last of the dwindling sunlight glows on his scales and red eyes. While the others lack the wits, or perhaps are too proud of their mission to understand what is happening, Shindorillimum has no misgivings of what may come. Those who doubt this may find themselves learning otherwise before long, although they will hardly live to profit from the lesson, he thinks.
The adornments, weapons and additional items the adventures carry thrash in the wind as Shindorillimum continues north. The shadows soon are replaced with darkness and an endless star filled sky. Hours pass before Shindorillimum's altitude begins to decrease. With the sinewy grace of a panther, and riding the wind to its last offerings, Shindorillimum glides in and lands on a sloping hillside, releasing the Centaur from his weary grip. Taking a few more steps, Shindorillimum folds his wings in tightly and lowers himself to the ground, resting his entire body for the moment. The moonless night is very dark and forbidding.
The Dragon sighs. "Let that be a lesson to you all, even Dragons get tired, and not all that we see do we know or understand." The Dragon's words are followed by an eloquent silence. Only Shindorillimum's eyes move as he watches those around him disembark from his scale-covered back.
"What do we do now? And where exactly are we?"
"Your entrance will best be discovered when daylight arrives, younglings. It is never wise to toss pebbles in places you can't see or tread unaware, where others may wait in ambush." The Dragon's voice almost sounds like a riddle.
What do you do?
"Wow, Great One, that was a gas! Thanks!" Chereva says, clearly invigorated by the day's ride. But the Dragon's sigh betrays a concern that utterly spooks her. And what he said to Freaketa before their journey still nags at her like a stubborn hangover. She backs up, momentarily unsure of her footing as the Dragon's gloom cramps her normally ebullient style. "Uhh, er, gals, we best get some shut-eye. I'll take first watch, if you want."
Jamara stays on the Dragon's back for a moment, taking a good look around while she has the height advantage before jumping off. "Okay by me. I take next. Maybay we sleep with goblin in middle? That way none get to er without going over one of us."
Turning to the dragon, "Thank you for ride. I forgive, this time. But you are right. Some things, they be hard to forgive, and harder to forget. Sometimes," she says, looking the great Wyrm in the eye, "it even be hard to keep the blame where it go, and not take it out on ones who couldn't know. Maybay sometimes I forget that too, but maybay I not be only one."
Blodwydd vaults off the Dragon's back as soon as it touches earth, and quickly moves to a position behind and some distance from it, continuing to eye the great wyrm with some suspicion. When the others suggest getting some sleep, she interjects, "We bess getter selfs outa site beefer daylite. Then weekin get sum shuteye!"
"Thanks Blodwydd, you know... during the ride," the Hobbit says, looking down and not directly at her. "I still have my tough guy image to keep up. I am still party leader you know... right? right?" Shipy whispers questioningly.
Freaketa follows Blodwydd and Jamara into some thick brushy cover thirty feet away, walking in single file. Like a nest of serpents, with noise and complaining added in (from Freaketa mostly), the trio settles down for some well needed sleep after a brief argument about the accommodations, leaving only Chereva, Shipy and Shindorillimum alone for the moment. Shipy smirks, wetting his lips and looking up at Chereva. With no moon out and only a few stars visible, it is very dark. Shindorillimum, who is still resting, raises his head up and looks around.
The Dragon states apprehensively, "There are others here.... I count five, maybe six---all adventurers like yourselves." Shindorillimum slumps back to the ground again. "I doubt they will seek you out before daylight; besides, they are moving north. I surmise they wish to see who they are up against first. They came here by magic." His throat growls slightly.
"How far are we from the entrance, O Great Scaled One?"
"Even with your short legs, Hobbit, it's not far. Just over this hill to the north, less than a half mile. You can't miss it in the daylight. Do you wish to ask me any questions about the necklace Freaketa carried, bat which now the Hobbit carries, because I need to leave soon."
The sticky fingered Hobbit puts on his best innocent-looking thief face, as only a Hobbit can, of course. "I didn't... steal it.... I am protecting it!" he stutters.
What do you do?
Chereva nods knowingly at the Hobbit and stoops to pat him on the head. "Hobbits will be Hobbits," she sighs. She approaches the Dragon with a slow gait, then addresses him in a lowered voice, "Yes, Great Shindorillimum, I've been meaning to ask what you meant back there: your detecting magic on Freaketa and all. It's her necklace, right? What's it do? And who've we got for company out there?" Leaning closer to the Dragon's face---so close that her mane bristles with the heat of the Wyrm's noxious exhalations---she adds, "And if there's anything you have to tell us that Cobalt didn't, now would be a good time. I suspect that weasel was hiding something about our mission."
"I am still party leader you know... right? right?"
Blodwydd scrubs her face wearily with her hands, artfully rearranging the streaks of dirt on her forehead, and regards the Hobbit blearily. "Ah think she got tha bess idear wuss gwan aroun here," she says, jerking her thumb at the centaur. "Ahm followin her playz!"
After this, she turns and lumbers off toward the nearby brush with Jamara and the princess, for some dearly desired rest.
Shindorillimum nods yes to Chereva and Shipy, his large head moving only slightly, and dark trails of smoke emanating from his nostrils. "Cobalt failed to add several important facts about your mission. The star-shaped necklace contains a small piece of Ambrosia, a gift to King Snorkin from the Death Goddess Lerotra'hh. Enough to make the person who consumes it become immortal, but not a god."
Interrupting Shindorillimum, the Hobbit says, "Sweeeeet, you mean I could be an immortal?" The Hobbit looks at Chereva and then Shindorillimum, adding, "or not." He composes himself. Removing the star-shaped necklace from his pocket, Shipy places it in Chereva's hand, closing her fingers with his own hands once it's placed there. "You better carry it. I dislike pain, you know," he says, with a concerned look.
"Others were also sent to help you. I sense one of them is near and the other---a Fairy---is yet to appear. You will find King Snorkin underground, near Fishsquish Lake. Freaketa is also a gift to King Snorkin. She isn't a princess, but she will have a far better life with King Snorkin than she would as a wharf wench in Khazan."
"Everything is of course about power. Lerotra'hh wants to keep a Goblin King in power who obeys her wishes, and King Snorkin does that without question. Others want the immortality for their own selfish reasons. Your group seems to be caught in the middle." Shindorillimum rises to his feet and gazes toward the darkness with piecing eyes.
Almost without a sound, a large white Wolf with blue eyes appears out of the darkness and approaches cautiously. The white Wolf seems unafraid.
"Hello Krandor." Shindorillimum points a clawed digit at the Hobbit and the Centaur, "This is Chereva the Centaur and Shipy the Cunning. You will work with them and help them to accomplish their goal, as I'm sure you heard everything which was said."
"That I did Great Shindorillimum. Your words are most cunning and well placed, as if you were a Fallohide Hobbit yourself," says Krandor rather eloquently.
Shindorillimum turns his attention back to Chereva and Shipy. "I'm leaving now, and you may not see me again." Shindorillimum moved off into the darkness.
Chereva, Shipy, and Krandor are left standing uneasily together as the Dragon moves off on foot. Chereva's watch soon ends. Blodwydd's is next, and then Jamara's much later. Darkness breaks, revealing the group to be hidden in a small area of brush within a terrain of large hills covered with scattered brush, set to the backdrop of huge looming mountains.
What do you do?
There is a slight disturbance in the night when Chereva wakes Blodwydd to take watch. Hissing "Wolf!" Blodwydd whips her dirk out and and prepares to leap upon a much surprised Krandor, but Chereva manages to restrain her in the nick of time.
After being informed that Krandor is in fact an ally, Blodwydd is mollified, and settles down to her watch, althrough she is heard to mutter, "Wulves. Dragons. Wass next, Jubjub birds?"
During the night, Krandor keeps close watch over everyone, wandering the campsite and looking out into the darkness constantly.
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This page updated: Mon Jan 09 14:22:15 2006
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