Straight Dope Epic Adventure/Fantasy Movie Game

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
1

Game Premise: Like with the Horror Movie game, several Dopers find themselves in the confines of a movie. This time we’re smack dab in the middle of an adventure/fantasy flick. Sort of a story-based/role-playing game with rules.

Rules:

  1. You may write yourself into/ back into the movie at any time you like. miraculous resurrections are allowed, as long as you make them plausible. (needs only to be as plausable as Buffy’s, Gandalf’s or Mulder’s returns)

  2. You can only interact with Dopers who have written themselves in(do not write in any doper but yourself), but once they join the game they’re fair game for anyone to write about. You may also introduce and interact with any non doper/animal/monster/fairy folk/mineral you wish to write in.

  3. You can kill off any doper who writes themself into the thread the thread

  4. Please speak of yourself in the 3rd person

  • though not a rule, it would be somewhat helpful if, when you intially write yourself in (or soon after), you give others an brief idea of the gender and appearance of your character. Doesn’t need to reflect reality, btw.

Bear in mind that you can play two ways: you can write often, and have direct imput about your character’s role, or you can sit back and watch what others do with your character. Your level of involvement beyond inserting yourself is entirely up to you.

The dawn was just breaking as Elfkin snuck out of the house. She’d thrown a forest green cloak over herself- one her dearly departed mother had said went very well with her red tresses- and strapped a very small, but useful blade to her side. She’d gotten teased about it many times, but it didn’t seem smart for a young lady to go unarmed these days, especially when the young lady in question was half elf and half human. Never popular to begin with, those of mixed race were increasingly derided given the kingdom’s newest, and strangest policies. But all that was about to change, or so it was hoped by the group of friends she was meeting with that spring morning.

As she reached the agreed upon meeting place, she saw immediately that she wasn’t the first one there.

2

Kat looked up from where she sat, back against the largest tree, when Elfkin came into view. The petite brunette–small enough to be taken for faerie stock, even though she was full human–jumped to her feet with a smile, letting her oversize black hooded cloak swirl dramatically around her. “You early, or everyone else late?”

Kat, of course, had only managed to make the meeting by staying up all night, as she could never have woken in time.

3

samarm lay in the grass nearby, sleeping off the effects of last night’s wine. Kat and Elfkin looked over and sighed. Kat wondered if he would be able to find his wide brimmed hat, having just remembered where he left if the night before.

4

(OOC: Funfun! Thanks for starting this, elfkin ! BTW, we can use different names than our SNs, right? Somehow Quantum Butterfly just doesn’t fit in a fantasy setting…)

A flash of purple light appears behind elfkin and Kat, fading to reveal a tall, shapely blonde woman dressed in a rather flamboyant, elaborately embroidered blue robe. A cocky, confident smile hovers on her generous lips. “Hello, people. Sorceress Quessa, at your service.” She whistles shrilly, holding up a fist sheathed in a blue leather glove. The sound of wings is heard, and a large raven lands on the sorceress’ upraised fist. “And this is my familiar, Kiren.” The raven regards the small gathering with small black eyes, then hops onto a nearby branch.

5

A strange wind started blowing through the camp and green lightning crackled in the sky off in the distance. As the lightning grew closer, riding on that strange wind, a very strange noise - musical but unlike any music our heroes had hitherto been exposed to - could be heard, along with the sound of hoof beats. After a few minutes it became apparent that both the unusual music and the hoof beats were coming from the storm. Suddenly the storm was right on top of the camp, elfkin, Kat and ** Quessa ** looked up in amazement as the storm cleared and a man riding a white stallion rode down through the air, green lightning crackling underneath it’s hooves. samarm snored in the grass a short way off, completely oblivious to the bizzarre happenings nearby. The horse and rider continued their descent and gracefully landed in front of the awe-struck trio, once he landed all signs of the storm vanished, as did the unusual music they’d heard.

The mysterious rider dismounted and ambled towards the group, with a lopsided grin plastered across his face. He was average height for a human male, he had blonde, shoulder length hair pulled back into dozens of little briads, each tied off at the end with a rainbow colored ribbon. His cloak was alive with bright colors which constantly moved in a chaotic rythym, swirling and changing patterns by the second.

“Greetings friends!” the newcomer said in a loud and friendly voice. “I am the sorcerer known as TheFunkySpaceCowboy and who might you be?”

“I am the Sorceress Quessa” came her proud reply

“Elfkin, here”

“I’m Kat” she said as she walked into the grass and gently kicked the prone figure lying there “and this is samarm.”

“Wha? Owe. Oh good morning Kat?” mumbled the newly concious samarm “Have you seen my hat?”

“What manner of name is TheFunkySpaceCowboy for a sorcerer? I have not heard it’s like before and you are quite unlike any sorcerer I’ve met” Quessa demanded cooly.

“Ahh, well it’s more of a, ah, nickname” he replied with a smile and a dismissive wave of his hand. “They call me the SpaceCowboy because I ride my steed through the sky, out among the stars, as you have seen. And Funky because, well that’s what I am.” While he was talking TheFunkySpaceCowboy reached into his cloak and produced a pipe and began loading it with pipe weed. “I heard that there was to be a gathering here today. A gathering of certian peoples that this kingdom doesn’t approve of, and will soon cease to tolerate. People that this kingdom finds intolerable are my kind of people, they’re the people I want to know. So here I am.” he then lit his pipe with a little flame from his index finger and took a long draw off it. The smoke smelled unlike any other pipeweed the rest of the group was familar with.

During SpaceCowboy’s introduction samarm had started looking for his hat but soon gave up when he couldn’t find it by staring at his hands. He quickly decided that a better course of action would be to sit there in the grass and feel bad while the others talked. He was replaying the previous evening in his pounding head, trying to count the goblets of wine he consumed, when he suddenly remembered where he’d put his hat. He groaned and decided to leave it there.

Hearing his new companion groan so painfully, and noting his unaturally green complexion, SpaceCowboy walked over to samarm and offered him his pipe. “Here friend, smoke on my pipe for a while. It’ll chase away the demons you unleashed from those bottles last night!”

6

A cranky voice came from the tree that Kat had been sitting under. “Oi, pipe down, will ya? Some of us are trying to sleep here.” A nekogirl stuck her head out of the foliage, kitty-ears twitching in annoyance.

“And who are you, pray tell?” Kat demanded. The girl swung out of the tree, landing lightly on the balls of her feet. She seemed to have gray-and-black tabby markings all over her skin, and wore a beat-up leather outfit two sizes too big, complete with leather knapsack.

“I’m Cougarfang. Now, as long as you’ve woken me up at this ungoddessly hour, may I ask what you people are doing, making such a racket under my tree?” Her tail, also tabby-striped, drew aimless patterns in the air behind her.

7

“My appologies, dear Cougarfang,” Elfkin exclaimed, “but we are having an important gathering here to take place before the suns draw noon. Many of the non humans of the land are becoming anxious now that King Holious has made his proclamation of halfbreeds and other lowborns. Toleration of our kind is at an all time low, and we fear soon it may turn from hate crimes to a full blown holocaust.”

Cougarfangs tail continued to weave incoherent patterns through the crisp morning air, flicking a bit of dew of at turns here and there. The little nekogirl spoke smugly. “My race has little care for the politics of this land. Holious and his people proclaim they have the devine right to declare their idiotic laws across the land. If the green mother had mind, she’d simply heave her bosom and the children of man would be no more.” Cuagarfang heaved a long sigh, and then started in with a less harsh tone. “But we all depend on the trade of others for things we cannot provide for ourselves, so perhaps we neko should care a little more. I shall join you.”

“Excellent!” exclaimed Kat. “The more the merrier. If we are going to win over any support from the humans at all, we need the support of every race we can get.”

Kat and Elfkin continued to engage Cougarfang in conversation. Under the cool shade of a nearby tree, FunkySpaceCowboy and Quessa held conversation about the arts and the latest alchemic news, while Samarm nursed his hangover. The smoke from the pipeweed curled curious patterns through the air, and seduced the nostrils of the party. “A curious blend indeed,” commented Samarm, who had finally taken the initiative to gather his hat. “Tell me, FunkySpaceCowboy, what kingdom does it hail from?”

The two spellweavers only grinned at Samarm, whom made a sour face back at them and caused him to eye the pipeweed suspiciously. “What, does it contain Ya’Golteth dung? If so, it’s quite the childish prank to pull on a man whose over-embibed the night before.”

Quessa smiled back. “You’re hat’s on backwards, good sir,” she casually replied. Samarm, a bit embarrassed, adjusted it properly and continued smoking without a word. Then SpaceCowboyJunkie motioned for the silence of the others suddenly. “Do you hear that Quessa?”

“It merely sounds like the rustling of dead leaves.”

“Exactly. It’s less than a fortnight to the Solstice, Quessa. Everything is green and thriving. Please don’t let this be what I think it is.”

But it was. Kat and Elfkin stopped and viewed the cloaked figure coming their way, as Cougarfang kept talking. Soon, all their eyes were glued to the Silouette on the horizon. It had an air about it that made one feel unwell just viewing the way it slank, for even though it had a human shape, there was nothing human about it’s movements. The eerie sound that eminated from it grew louder, and soon the faint odor of burnt sagebrush could be caught on the wind.

Elfkin neared FunkySpaceCowboy. “What is that?” she inquired.

“Splitfoot,” replied the sorcerer.

Kat inched closer. “What’s a spiltoot?”

“Splitfoot,” replied FunkySpaceCowboy, “and that’s it’s name. A social outcast among outcasts. He’s obviously a mixed breed of somesort, but no one really knows of what, or for that matter cares to find out. Rumors say he’s a highwayman, but truthfully, no one has ever seen him do anything but sit in the taverns by himself and indulge in amounts of ale that would fluster even Samarm here. Even those bent on villainy and treachery don’t care to have his company.”

“And this is someone the likes of whom we want to help our cause?!” exclaimed Samarm.

“I don’t know,” replied Quessa, “but we’re about to find out whether we like it or not.”

8

Meanwhile, Athena rolled over on her cloud-laden chaise, and put down the silvery bowl of ambrosia she’d been snacking on. The mortals were restless, their movements rustling to the peaks of snowy Mount Olympus and waking the Gods. Or at least one God. Athena peered over the edge of the mountain and quickly located the small band of rebels.

“A rebellion, pray tell?” she murmured to herself. “How… interesting.” She lay back into her lounge. “King Holious has been a loyal subject, and the thighbones of his sacrificial oxen are especially tasty. But still… there was the incident with his son and my favorite olive tree. These half-breeds have always been true to the land, and offered the proper sacrifices at the proper times. Who to lend my support to? The King, or this band of rogues? Mayhap this incident with Splitfoot will give me some guidance…”

With that, she poured herself another goblet of celestial wine, and leaned over the mountain again, focusing her attention on the gathering below.

9

The odor of burnt sagebrush grew stronger, and the eerie rustling louder as the being known as Splitfoot approached. Kat coughed at the smell, pressing a handkerchief against her nose and mouth. Samarm took a long drag on SpaceCowboy’s pipe, smiling through a haze of sweet-smelling smoke. Cougarfang sneezed once, glaring at the cloaked figure through slitted eyes. “Confounded smell… why does he do that?”

Quessa shrugged, pulling a slender willow wand out of one capacious blue sleeve. “Personally, I think he does it to cover up, shall we say, less pleasant odors. But that’s just my opinion; I’ve never been close enough to tell for sure.”

SpaceCowboy looked pointedly at the wand, then at Quessa herself. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Are you sure it’s not?”, she retorted. “I prefer being safe to sorry.” Above her, the raven cawed once, as if adding its support.

Elfkin swallowed nervously, loosening her blade in its sheath. Safe to sorry… just what was this Splitfoot creature?

10

“I don’t think we have anything to fear from this creature, however you are right.”, said the SpaceCowboy. With a glance towards his saddle bag a long slender staff flew into his outstreched hand in the blink of an eye. “Better safe than sorry.” The staff was made of a light grey, slightly iridescent wood, with a gnarled top which held a multifaceted, teardrop shaped crystal.

“Nice looking staff.”, commented Quessa. She could never understand why wizards insisted on carrying those cumbersome things when a simple willow wand was just as powerful, and a lot more portable.

“Thanks.”

Splitfoot stopped his approach a few feet from where Quessa and SpaceCowboy stood. His tattered, patchwork cloak covered him entirely, even his face was completely hidden in the hood.

“Greetings, Splitfoot. To what do we owe the honor of this visit?”, Quessa announced cooly.

The creature Splitfoot held out his hands, they were dark blue, scaly with long, thick, yellow fingernails which terminated in rounded points. He pulled back the hood of his cloak to reveal his face, for the first time in his life as far as anyone in the gathered party knew. Like his hands Splitfoots face was dark blue and covered in scales. He had short, spikey black hair, thick bushy eyebrows, the large pointed ears of an elf and bright yellow eyes which seemed to shine with a malignent light.

“I see that my reputation precedes me as surely as my odor does.” he replied in a low raspy voice, almost a hiss.

“Some of you have reputations as well. You”, he pointed at FunkySpaceCowboy, “are the wizard they call the SpaceCowboy, that cloak gives you away.” The creature sniffed the air deeply and continued. “As does the odor from your pipe. I can see you’ve been showing your friends why they also call you Funky.”

Splitfoot turned his gaze to Quessa. “You must be the witch known as Quessa.” he hissed, leaned in closer and smiled, revealing two rows of sharply pointed yellow teeth. “They say that your beauty and power are unrivaled in all the western lands. I see that in this regard they are not mistaken.” Quessa supressed a shudder of disgust at being complimented by this, creature. “For your sake, and for the sake of your party I hope they were also correct about your powers.”

“Care for a demonstration?” retorted Quessa icily.

“Ahhh”, hissed Splitfoot. “No need for that now pretty lady, you will have need of your powers soon enough. Best not to waste them on the likes of me.”

Fixing his malignent gaze on Cougarfang he continued. “I don’t know you, but I recognize your race. You are a neko. An aloof and proud people, with a reputation for fierceness in combat.” His voice dripped with venom and disgust at the use of the word proud. “You have great respect for living things and for the earth. Good for you.”

“The rest of you I don’t know. Two small humans and a halfbreed elf, not much of an army.”

“No one ever said we were an army.” interupted Quessa, “Just what is it that you want?”

“This is a gathering of undesirables, is it not? Am I not the most undesirable creature in these lands? I am here because I am a survivor, and in order to survive the coming…difficulties, I’m forced to join with your little party. I have information you will find useful. I hear things” he pointed at his ears. “People don’t notice me, don’t realize I’m listening and they talk too openly, even agents of King Holious.”

A doubtful looked flashed across Kat’s face, as she wondered to herself how anyone could fail to notice that hideous thing.

“People don’t notice me, hu-man, because they do not wish to. They ignore me and convince themselves that I don’t exist, to their peril.”, Splitfoot hissed with a hideous grin.

“How did you-”, Kat started to ask, fearing he could read minds.

Splitfoot cut her off, “I’m not a mind reader or a magician, just observent.”

“What information do you have for us?”, asked SpaceCowboy.

“Let us all sit in the shade and talk comfortably, wizard. First I’d see to your friend over there” Splitfoot gestured to Samarm, “he appears to be enjoying more of your pipeweed than is healthy for him.”

“Yes of course, excuse me”, replied SpaceCowboy as he hurried over to Samarm, who had indeed consumed all of the pipeweed in the pipe and was now sitting in the grass glassy eyed and grinning to himself. “Give me my pipe back please.”

“Yeah, sure here ya go” muttered Samarm as he handed the pipe back. “Say I’m feeling a lot better now. Where did you say that pipeweed came from?”

“From Canook, one of the great kingdoms in the north, united under the banner of the Mapleleaf.” answered SpaceCowboy. “Now please get up and come with me, important things are about to happen.”

“I’ve heard of Canook. They say it’s a land of ice and snow, with the midnight sun, where the hotsprings flow… say do you have anything to eat? I’m really hungry right now.”

“Here eat this”, replied SpaceCowboy, handing Samarm a leather bag as he helped him to his feet. “It’s just nuts and dried berries but I think you’ll like it.”

“Wow! This is like the best food I’ve ever eaten!” exclaimed Samarm as he shoved handfuls of nuts and berries into his mouth.

The others had all sat down in a circle under the shade of Cougarfangs tree.
“Sit down here next to Kat, be quiet and listen. Ok?”, asked SpaceCowbow, in a very paternal tone.

“Sure thing.”, uttered Samarm as he half sat, half fell into place next to Kat.

FunkySpaceCowboy walked around the circle and took his place next to Quessa. “Remind me to keep an eye on him next time I break the pipe out… Did I miss anything?” he mumbled to Quessa after sitting down.

“No not really. The others tried to introduce themselves, Splitfoot just glared at them and made hissing noises.”

“Quiet!” hissed Splitfoot “I’m ready to start now that everyone is here”

“Oh this isn’t everyone!” exclaimed Elfkin. “At least a dozen others are supposed to be here this morning, perhaps more. Some are travelling from quite far. If your story is a long one, perhaps we should wait for them?”

“I doubt very much that anyone else will make it to this gathering. Many have been taken by agents of the king en route, others in their homes at night. You must listen to what I have to say and then we must depart. This place is not safe.”

“But, my friends. They, they’ve been taken? But why?” cried Elfkin.

“Not just your friends, the King has already started rounding up all outcasts, half breeds, low races and anyone else deemed undesirable. Now be quiet and listen.” hissed Splitfoot, cruely.

“I’m afraid he’s right Elfkin.” said SpaceCowboy kindly, “We must remain free if we want to have any hope of saving your friends and everyone else from the coming dangers. We should listen now and then act quickly. Please continue Splitfoot”

“Thank you, wizard. Before I share what information I’ve collected, you should first know my story from the beginning. As you may have noticed I have traits of many of the races of this land. You may have also guessed that I did not arise from natural breeding. I was not born, I was created by a powerful mage, I do not remember when, or where…”

11

…First darkness, then light. My first memories are of a woman hunched over me, adding droplets of different potions to my… cauldron? Wherever the drops touched me, they burned, and whenever they burned, I changed.

As I became older, the experimentation slowed down, and eventually ceased. The old woman instead started reading to me, teaching me of the land and the people thereof. Eventually I became old enough to talk, but I never said anything to the woman. Even then, I knew to play my cards close to my chest.

I sensed–for that is one of my powers, to pick up on the thoughts and moods of others–I sensed that she was becoming frustrated with my apparent lack of progress. One day I sensed that she was going to terminate this experiment and do away with me.

That very night, I arose from my cauldron for the first and last time. The moment my foot touched the floor, the wards on the floor activated. I ran up and down gleaming white corridors, pursued by Goddess only knows what. I finally entered a room with several portals. Without stopping, I stepped through one of the portals and found myself in the land of Canook.

I spent much time wandering the woods of Canook, learning to fend for myself in the wild. I mostly avoided sentient beings during that time, being wary of intelligent life. As I slowly drifted south into this land, I happened to wander into a dryad grove. I was captured and brought to their queen. Named Super Gnat, she had skin, eyes, and snaky dreadlocks all of the same warm brown. It was the dryads who helped me to probe the limits of my abilities.

After a time, however, I grew weary of life among the trees and decided to make a name for myself in the outer world. Undoubtedly those deeds–as well as my smell–are what brought me to your attention.

12

It is at this point that Splitfoot is cut short by a furious shaking of the trees to the east. This sound is followed by an odd whapping sound and a gutteral shout of serveral terse syllables that sounds like a mix of dog barks and a stringed instrument being smashed - in other words - an Orcish curse.

Before anyone can react a towering muscular man comes stumbling from the bushes rubbing his head. This seems odd following an Orcish curse but it’s at this point that our wayward traveler looks up at the gathered who can’t help but notice the odd green hue and the abnornally large teeth - in otherwords - a halforc.

Now it’s been said that an orc is a cunning an vicious warrior that can snap the average human in two with ease. If that were true then this would be the stupid inbread cousin of that warrior. You know - the one who both aunt and mother loved even though the affore mentioned warrior dropped his cousin a few times. The one who thought the kids where playing with him when they used him for pin the donkey. The one that - well - a half orc

At this point, our half-orc stops in mistride registering that what’s in front of him is not another head-slapping tree and looks about slowly. Slowly in a manner that suggest the effort may cause him to drool. Typical half-orc.

With a voice that sounds a bit like dog barks and the breaking of a stringed instrument the traveler says…

“Uh… 'ullo…”

13

(Welcome to the boards, MrCantrip!)

The motley assortment of sentient creatures stared at one another for a moment, while the half-orc drew himself up to full height and sighed. “Well, we’re lost again.”

“We?” asked Cougarfang. She began to clamber up the tree to get a better view, but stopped as another person could be heard approaching, crashing through the brambles with the occasional whimper as a thorny branch struck an unprotected spot.

A tall human, still dwarfed by the demiorc, appeared from the very same bushes the previous visitor. He wore what would be called a military uniform by the very generous - the standard light leather cloak, mail shirt and thin helmet were in terrible condition, though the badge on his chest had been lovingly polished to a bright sheen.

“Hold!” shouted Quessa, leveling her wand at the two. “What is your business here?”

The newcomers looked to each other for a moment. “Just passing through?” asked the human with a lopsided grin.

“Right,” said Kat. “Why not take the path?”

“Path?” repeated the semiorc. “What path?”

“The one right beside you,” Elfkin pointed out.

The new human looked to where Elfkin had pointed, then slapped the quasiorc on one mighty arm. “A path! We’ve been not ten yards from a path this whole time, you fool! Some ‘native guide’ you are!” The Diet Coke of orcdom didn’t seem bothered by the weak assault, but muttered ‘ouch’ just the same to show spirit.

“Well now,” hissed Splitfoot, who had circled around to the rear. “What have we here?” He deftly reached under the human’s cloak and removed a leather satchel, breaking the string that had held it around his shoulders.

“No!” shouted the man. “They’ll kill me if it’s tampered with!” He started forward at the still description-defying creature, but stopped short as a quick spell from Quessa held him in place.

Splitfoot tore the satchel open. “Death will happen sooner or later to all of us. Well, with some exceptions.” He rifled through the contents, finally pulling out a sheaf of papers and a bound scroll. “Let’s see who this fellow is.”

The raven swooped from the trees, snatching the papers from Splitfoot’s hands and delivering them to Quessa. Splitfoot, unperturbed, tipped a small coin from the bottom of the bag and bit into it.

“‘Messenger Brahe, Second Rank, Fifth Division, Zephyr Company,’” read Quessa aloud. “‘You are hereby charged with delivering this missive to General Alphonso, currently stationed at Fort Heatherton. Stay off the main roads. Use this money to hire a local to guide you there, avoiding detection at all costs.’ Blah blah blah… ‘Long live King Holious!’”

“Oh ho!” cried TheFunkySpaceCowboy with a smile. “The enemy, right in our midst! Whatever shall we do?”

“You could run, and we’d forget this ever happened,” tried Brahe, though it was clear that even he didn’t believe that had a chance.

“Somehow, I doubt that,” grinned Splitfoot, slipping a scaly arm around Brahe’s shoulders. “We could have use for you.”

“And me?” asked the orcy one.

“You can stick around. Muscle’s one thing that comes in handy as well.”

“Let’s see what’s in these secret military documents,” suggested Quessa, waving the scroll. They all gathered around, even Brahe (who had decided that if he was going to be killed, he may as well know for what purpose), as she broke the seal and read…

14

From under the brush emerged a pot-bellied man of about two feet in height. He wore a heavily-abused wide-brimmed leather hat and green leather breeches and blouse. He had a scruffy, full beard and a rolled cigarette of some sort of sweet, pungent herb. He carried an ornate blunderbuss and hanging from his belt was a cutlass, both sized to his frame. On a short leash he led an ocelot. This was perhaps the strangest fact of all about this little man. He was clearly outclassed by the feline; yet it was as obedient as the most faithful dog.

As he burst forth from the ferns he shouted with the voice of a professional wrestler, “Sorceress Quessa?! That bitch owes me money!! And you Cougarfang,” he shouted as he pointed at the nekogirl, “Keep your paws off my cat!!”

He leaned his blunderbuss against the ocelot and dropped his leather pack. “Ha!!” he shouted. “I’m kidding of course, you’re all right!!” He retrieved his blunderbuss from the cat and, shouldering the weapon, proceeded to pull a scroll from his possibles bag. He unrolled it and began to address the assembled crowd. “We have received a message from Major Klong of the Knowledge Brigade! He informs us,” he looked up for dramatic effect and noticed the human. “Jeepers H. Tapdancing Crackers, what the hell is a human doing here?!” He readied his blunderbuss. “Step back!! This thing has the punch of a mountain troll!!”

“Stop!” shouted Elfkin. “What’s in the message?”

“Oh, okay,” the little man said. “It seems that the Kingdom of Guinness is using this little internal tiff as an opportunity to create an insurrection. I’ve been ordered to march to the OrcFort Hava to receive orders. I’ve been commanded to gather a group of volunteers and you look pretty volunteery to me, goddammit!”

“OrcFort Hava?” Quessa exclaimed. “You mean to march right into the heart of Orcish power?”

"That place hasn’t been the heart of Orcish power since Princess Paige of Guinness led her batallion of long-bowmen into the Caber Pass! What Orcs didn’t die from the arrows were hammered to the ground by Guinneelads swinging their gutentags. Ha! ‘Gutentag, ye mother lovin’ orcs’! Anyway, I’d march to hell and back if I had to. I’m to meet the Princess at OrcFort Hava for instructions and information and I need hardy souls to come with me. Rumor was youse folks were meeting to discuss Holious’s schemes. You’re just the sort of fool-hardy crew the Princess needs if Holious is to be stopped.

“So quit yer gawping, kill that human, and let’s get a move on! The king ain’t gonna kill his damn self, so it’s up to us to make sure he meets his maker sooner rather than later!” With that, he shouldered his pack and marched out under the brush.

“That js_africanus is one crazy fucker,” elfkin observed. “What is it, then? Kill the human and march to meet Princess Paige with ol’ js?”

15

As the group stood contemplating this turn of events, a commotion was heard from the opposite side of the clear, and a man of medium height with short black hair came crashing through the bushes. “ITR Champion, Professional Dragonslayer, at your service”, he announced.

“Are you also interested in joining our band?”, Elfkin inquired.

ITR fidgeted. “Well, ah, you see,” he said, “I’ve been having just a little bit of trouble finding any dragons to slay, so I’m, ah, rather desparate for employment of the quest type, if you know what I mean”.

“Trouble finding any dragons”, Quessa exclaimed. “Of course you’re having trouble finding them. They’ve been extinct for centuries. The world hasn’t needed dragon slayers for time out of mind. And what kind of a name is ITR Champion, anyway?”

“Well, ah, you see, there aren’t any other dragonslayers, as you said. So thus there aren’t any better than me. So I’m the Champion.” He smiled proudly. “As for the ITR, well, ah, I’ll explain that one later.”

16

I forgot to mention it in the first post, but would you please bold (Dopers’) characters names? Once this thread gets longer it’s nice to have the names standing out so we can keep track of everyone. Things like the king’s name don’t need to stand out. Thanks!

Elfkin gave the dragon slayer a dubious look. " Generally speaking the policy is ‘the more the merrier’ but since you look like a full-blooded human, we’d have to have your opinions on half-breeds before allowing you to join."

" Oh, uh…" ITR Champion thought about it for a moment before giving them all a brilliant smile. " They pay their taxes, run fine businesses…I dated a couple and wow. Um, I like them?"

Everyone gave approving nods. Well, except for Brahe whose thoughts were otherwise distracted.

Kat suddenly asked, " Do you realize that Holious has outlawed cantaloupe?"

" No!"

" What’s wrong with cantaloupe, it’s a perfectly servicable melon."

" Oh great and I have so many recipes for it too."

Kat waited out the comments before continuing. " Doesn’t that worry you? Holious has never been a great king, but at least his policies before this have sort of made sense in a biggoted sort of way."

That gave everyone a pause.

17

jr8 wandered by in the background, eating an apple. Noticing the large gathering, he became curious as to the obviously wieghty matters being discussed.

Suddenly, he remembered he’d left the fire burning in the kitchen hearth, and wandered off again without ever finding out what was going on.

18

Cougarfang was becoming increasingly bored. All these humanoids would do was stand around and talk, apparently. Especially that fool, splitfoot. Well, they could talk all they liked. She hadn’t even had breakfast yet.

“Look, people, I’d love to stay and chat, but I’m hungry. So I’m going to go hunt now.”

With that, Cougarfang vanished into the bushes with hardly a rustle, going into full neko-hunt-mode.

OOC: Any new joiner wanna get pounced on?

19

This needs a alan-rickmanesque baddie. Step forward me… :slight_smile:

Splitfoot sighed and glanced round at the eclectic group.

“I believe if this group grows any larger then we will have an army. Come lets move off before we attract any more waifs and strays. I’m sorry js_Africanus but we have greater perils on our minds than opportunistic raids.”

js_africanus grinned and shouldered his blunderbuss.

“Aye i suspected as much!” he said “Ah well, t’is a shame but remember my offer - it will be a while before i reach my destination and my offer still stands. If its wealth any of you are searching for then i can certainly offer…”

Suddenly - with no warning other than the whisper of its flight - an arrow planted itself in his neck. Slowly he began to fall to the ground clutching his throat, blood bubbling out of his mouth as he slowly chocked to death on his own life blood.

In an instant the clearing was full of soldiers.

The party reacted instantly. The Sorceress Quessa rushed forward to grab the falling js_Africanus. Elfin, ITR Champion and Mr. Cantrip drew their weapons and formed a protective circle, attempting to protect her from the attackers.

“They’re using Anti-Charms!” Cried Splitfoot as he kicked out at a soldier. “We can’t cast magic!”

“I noticed” Replied FunkySpaceCowboy as he swung his staff like a club. “See - this is why I carry a staff! Wands are great but you can’t…argh!”

he fell to the ground – a crossbow bolt sticking out of his left leg. Cougarfang leapt through the air as if from nowhere forcing back the soldiers briefly so that Samarm could drag the injured sorcerer inside the protective circle “I’d hate to lose my new dealer!” he said, smiling.

Valiantly the group fought on but slowly they were forced back.

“D’is not looking Good!” shouted Mr. Cantrip as he threw a screaming soldier over his shoulder. “I’s thinking we’s in trouble here.”

And he was right. Slowly but surely the soldiers were winning.

“If you can hold them off for long enough I can dispell the Anti-Charms!” Shouted Splitfoot “But its going to take a while – how long do you think…”

”HOLD!”

The order rang clear and loud through the clearing. As one the soldiers pulled back, arms ready to continue the fight if necessary.

“Oh shit…” Kat exclaimed.

“What?” asked Elfin

She pointed. Half in the shadows on the edge of the clearing stood a figure. Slowly and casually he began to make his way forward, the soldiers moving aside to allow him through.

He was tall and slim and moved with a lazy gait, dishevelled Brown hair framing a young (for he seemed barely in his twenties) and clean-shaven face. To the casual observer he seemed incredibly bored and laid back - almost clueless even. Anyone who saw his eyes, however, realised that the complete opposite was true.

He was dressed in the dark green uniform worn by a Brigadeer of the Immortals – the King’s Elite private guard - a seemingly impossible rank for him to have achieved given his apparent age. Unusually though the uniform was plain – unencumbered by the gold medals, brockades, and arrogant decorations that would normally be found on an Immortal. Over his shoulders hung a black cloak, fastened over his left shoulder by a small golden broach in the shape of a dragon.

“Who’s that?”

Kat sighed. “Duke Garius of the Winter Lands of Cacadia, Lord Protector of the Confederated Northern Kingdoms, Commander of the Armies of the North and Guardian of the Orcish Wall. Loyal and obedient servant of his majesty the King.

Elfin looked at Kat in shock. “That is the Legendary Winter Duke?! The man who put down the Rebellion of the Ten Dukes? The man who led 10,000 men against the combined Orcish hordes of over 100,000 at the Battle of Fulton Bridge and won???.”

“He looks about twelve” samarm muttered.

“Actually I’m 22” Said the Duke calmly as he stopped and stood a short distance from the group. Turning towards Elfin he smiled wanly.

“And for the record, my lady, those figures are an exaggeration – I had only 8000 and the Orcs no more than 50,000. Besides, they gifted me the high ground.”

Slowly he cast his eyes over the group.

“Wow – now what do we have here!” he said, catching sight of cougarfang, “aren’t you a pretty kitty! It seems such a shame to hide that figure beneath those rags”

She growled at him.

“Now, now – careful. Or you won’t get a tummy rub later.”

He begin to chuckle to himself, but stopped suddenly at the sight of Kat. He gave a quick laugh his mouth broke into a broad grin.

“Now there’s a face I wasn’t expecting to see…

…hello sister.”

20

“Dragons?” **Athena’s ** ears perked up. “Hmmm… 'tis true what the wizard said… there hasn’t been any dragons in the land for centuries. Mayhap it’s time for one to appear. If this band of rogues can defeat a dragon, even a small one, that would prove to me that their cause is worth the support of a Goddess! That fat fool King Holious couldn’t even keep Thor’s minotaur out of my olive grove!”

Athena stood, and walked to her pantry. “All right… dragons… I need a glimmering claw and a dragon scale. Which color? I have a lot of greens, we’ll use green. And a small ball of fire… got it all! Combine!” With a poof of smoke and a whif of sulfur, a shimmering green dragon appeared in the clouds next to our fair Goddess. Not large by dragon standards, it stood perhaps the height of a birch tree. It’s yellow eyes gleamed, and it’s teeth dripped with poisonous bile. It lowered it’s head and gazed raptly at the Goddess.

“Hello, dragon… here are your instructions: Fight that yon group of rogues. Fight with all your might. If they prove victorious, be calm in your knowledge that you will soon be back at my side here in Mount Olympus. If you prove victorious, move with haste to King Holious, and put him to the test as well. But be quick! I need to know soon whether this small rebellion is worth my interest!”

With that, the dragon was off. It quickly flew down to the earth below, alighting in a field close to our merry band.