Elves in the Temple - a Co8 FanFic and partial walk thru

Bravo Bravo,

unblinking avian hostility........yup, Boo would be proud. I wonder if Rannos died laughing hidiously.

OB1 you are a gifted writer, please bestow upon us another look into the journal of Jack.

 

Thanks for the kind words.

Yup, it was a Tasha's Hideous Laughter spell, re-interpreted as a magic enhanced joke. I was wondering if I needed to make that clearer.

 

It's rumored that the Verbal component of that spell goes thusly:

"My dog has no nose..."
"How does he smell?"
"Terrible!"

Not nearly as effective without the magic enhancement, though.

Edit: Also, much shorter in the First Edition...

 

Names fixed, small edits to The Joke.

 

Man, you're good. Keep em coming if you don't mind.

 

Old Book rocks. eace: :joy: :yikes: :thumbsup: I read this, just for fun. OB should think about making this a real Short Story! $$$$$$$$$$$$$$

 

Part the Twentieth: Tall Tales

From the Journals of Jack B. Swift, Professional Adventurer, published 585, Greyhawk Press

My plan had been to find Lareth through Rannos and Gremag. That turned out to be a complete dog’s breakfast. They didn’t know anything. Worse, they thought we’d killed Lareth. In the end we killed Rannos, Gremag got away, and the people of Hommlet had even more reason to think we were bandits.

On the plus side, Rannos had some very high quality loot on him. Anyone who says good people don’t care about money has never had to finance an adventuring company. Or maybe I don’t qualify as “good”.

So we headed for Emridy Meadows.

It made sense at the time. Terjon, head priest in Hommlet’s Church of Saint Cuthbert, had asked us to recover an artifact he’d lost there. We needed his good will if we wanted the villagers to cooperate.

“Why doesn’t he just go look himself?” Reynard asked me.

“I don’t know.” I told him.

“Could be he doesn’t care much about the artifact, and he thought it would be a good way to get rid of us.” suggested Kate, grinning.

I hoped she was wrong.

The trip took about a day. We passed through yet another swamp. Dio found some Swamp Lotus floating on the water in the south west, almost invisible in the gloom. We packed it away. Jaroo, Hommlet’s chief druid, had asked us to bring him a sample.

Emridy Meadows sits in the central Flanaess, bordered by hills and forest. It used to be good land, the kind that would make a farmer or herdsman smile and think seriously about homesteading. In the year 569, it was the site of a battle between humans allied with gnomes, elves and dwarves against an army of orcs, ogres and gnolls. Both sides had their own priests and wizards, and it’s said that the Demon Lady of Fungi actually appeared. Blood and magic soaked into the soil. These days you wouldn’t want to eat the sort of things that grow there.

“This place is scary.” said Meleny.

Dio sent a look Mel’s way, but refrained from direct comment.

I had to agree with Mel. The meadows were green and healthy on the surface, but there was something unnatural about the place. Strange sounds hung in the air, and odd movements were just barely visible from the corner of the eye.

Also, as I noticed after we’d traveled south down into the meadows just a few dozen paces, there was the not at all hidden movement of a fully articulated skeleton charging straight for us, clutching a spear.

The skeleton’s weapon bounced from Dio’s shield. The creature wasn’t the same as the living dead we’d seen in the Moathouse; its flesh had long since rotted away, leaving only bone, held together and animated by force of magic. A second skeleton rose from the ground to the south east, holding a crossbow. It launched a bolt that bounced from Bar’s shoulder plate.

Perry ran forward and raised her axe high in the air. Words in the old Dwarven tongue poured from her. I think they were prayers. Light blazed from the skeleton facing Dio, and from the skeleton to the south east.

As the light faded, the skeletons collapsed into piles of disorganized bone.

“Praise Moradin!” declaimed Perry, looking smug.

“Praise Moradin” we all muttered, continuing our march south. Credit where credit is due.

“So,” said Kate, “do we have a plan?”

“We quarter the meadow,” I told her, “and hope that Terjon’s artifact is both large enough for us to find and still intact after all these years.”

“And that no one else has walked off with it” she added.

“Yes.” I said.

“And that we’re not wasting our time completely.” She gave me a smile.

“Don’t be so cynical.” I told her.

“Quiet.” hissed Dio, edging forwards.

We quieted down, and listened.

To the south, past the broken remains of what may once have been a stone circle, something was moving.

“Everybody stop.” I edged forward alone, as quietly as I could.

As I moved around the standing stones, my mail shirt (originally the assassin’s mail shirt, but he didn’t need it any more) gave a very faint clink. I winced and paused.

I started to move around again, and then cautiously forwards. That’s when I spotted them.

A full grown brown bear, almost half a ton of hair, teeth, and potential unpleasantness, was ambling along beside a genuine hill giant. The hill giant was larger.

I began to back up.

My chain shirt let out another faint clink.

The bear looked towards me.

I froze.

The bear charged.

I turned and ran around the stones.

A man on a straightaway is no match for a charging bear. Everyone who’s seen a bear run full out knows that. What many people don’t know is that bears can’t turn corners very well, at least not while they’re running.

“Bear!” I screamed, running around the corner as fast as I could.

The bear rounded the corner behind me.

Meleny’s voice rang out, magic in her words.

“Who’s a little wiggle bear? Who’s a sweetie pookums?”

The bear’s charge slowed, and then stopped.

“Who’s a lovey dovey bear?” Meleny approached the bear, her eyes shining, and the bear sat on its haunches.

I started breathing again, and started feeling a little self concious. That’s when the giant came around the stones.

As I brought up my spear, I heard chanting from behind me. Vines crawled up around the giant’s ankles, and spider’s webs rained down. Thick, slippery grease appeared beneath his feet and the ground under that turned into deep, treacherous mud. The giant heaved and pulled, snapping strands of webbing and lengths of vine, fell, and couldn’t make it back to his feet. He was helpless.

The rest was just butchery. Dio and Perry used slings, Fox and I used our spears, and Barbara struck with her glaive. Kate had her bow, and Meleny made use of her crossbow and a very large bear.

Afterwards, we searched the area and found the remains of one of the giant’s previous visitors. He’d sported a cloak that looked like elf work and an excellent suit of elf-forged chain mail.

“One of Tillahi’s party?” I asked Kate.

“Maybe. No way to tell.” There was a twinkle in her eye, and I got the feeling she was laughing at me.

“What?” I asked.

“Bear!” Kate mock-screamed, jumping back and waving her hands in the air. She was smiling, and the hands over head position did interesting things to the corset.

I smiled back and headed for the giant’s body. “I had to warn you” I said. I noticed Mel, Dio, the dog and the chicken off playing with the bear to the south west.

“You couldn’t have mentioned the giant?” teased Kate, following.

“No,” I said, drawing my dagger as I squatted by the dead giant. “First things first.”

“You scream fetchingly.” Still grinning, she joined me by the giant.

“It was a manly bellow.” I explained, cutting away at the giant’s neck. Brother Smyth had wanted a giant’s head; I’d give him a giant’s head.

We explored the meadows, marching first west, then north. Twice more we encountered groups of animated skeletons, and twice more Dio raised her axe high and destroyed them with a prayer to Moradin. She was having a great time.

I heard Dio chatting with Meleny.

“A charm won’t do it. Not for long.” said Dio.

“I want to keep him!” said Meleny. “Jaroo has bears. They’re beautiful.”

I was just glad Dio was past telling Mel “Sure, but it has to sleep next to you.”

The meadows were depressing the hells out of me. Ominous fogs, fungus everywhere, the hungry dead preying upon the living. The war between the Temple and the kingdoms of the Flanaess had left what should have been valuable land worthless to anyone.

That’s when we spotted the Rainbow Rock. Terjon had told us he’d lost his artifact near here. Imagine a chunk of quartz the size of a boulder, polished until it gleamed. It won’t look much like rainbow rock, but it’ll give you an idea. As we approached it, once again a group of corpses pulled themselves out of the ground and attacked us. This group was a bit different; some of them were very well preserved, and others looked as though the things that left them had never been human. Perry stepped forwards, raising her axe, and prayed.

Most of the undead things vanished in a blast of light. The ones that looked like a cross between dogs and men turned and ran.

We stood for a few seconds.

“Friends, after them!” shouted Perry. “They’ll not flee for long!”

So we chased them, all over the meadow. Undead horrors running in panic from a bunch of humans, an elf, a dwarf, a bear, a dog, and a chicken.

It took almost ten minutes to catch and re-kill them.

We gathered back at the rock. “Why,” I asked Perry, “couldn’t we just let them go?”

Perry looked at me as if I’d just asked why we couldn’t eat stones. “My friend,” she said, “they were the unquiet dead. Had we let them go, who knows what mischief they would have caused?”

I’d run all over a rock strewn meadow in a chain shirt and carrying a pack because some dead things might have caused someone trouble down the line. I didn’t know how I felt about that.

I examined the Rainbow Rock carefully. A fracture in the rock was filled with a grotesque fungus flower. I’m not sure why, but I took out my dagger and started digging. The fungus gave way, and I found a small belt pouch beneath. Inside was an odd figurine, a letter addressed to Terjon, and an expensive looking Amulet of Saint Cuthbert.

We had it.

Then I heard the ground breaking up just behind me.

As I turned, the animated skeleton of something inhuman rose from the ground. I looked into black and empty sockets, and something intelligent looked back. The monster was holding a heavy mace. It raised that mace into the air, and a chill wind blew. The air was filled with a sick violet light, and my stomach felt like it was trying to crawl up my throat.

Three more of the skeletal things tore their way out of the dirt, each holding a long spear. Two drove their spears against Perry, slamming them into her armor without, I think, getting through. One stabbed at Bar; bar turned, but the blow left a nasty cut across her stomach.

Perry raised her axe and called out to Moradin. Nothing happened.

I didn’t panic, at least not much. I switched my spear for a mace on my belt. Practice paid; I was able to drop the spear and make the switch in one move, tumble forwards, and land a blow on the spell-casting skeleton.

I heard chanting, and the roars of bears, but I was too worried about the skeleton in front of me to take a look. With my peripheral vision I saw Dio suddenly double in height; Fox was doing his job. Tiny glowing spheres of light spun out of Kate’s fingertips and smashed into the skeleton I was facing.

The skeleton spell caster gestured again, and began to shine. I felt another skeleton’s spear stab into my side, turned slightly by my mail, and let the force carry me into a spin. I completed the spin with a strike against the “priest” that failed to connect. I saw Dio move forward, almost as large now as the hill giant had been, and bring down Lareth’s club against the skeleton priest in a spinning blow that took out its left rib cage and left arm. Absurdly, the thing remained standing.

Then a spray of light spheres poured from Fox and Kate’s fingers to strike the skeleton priest. What was left of it exploded.

I heard fierce growls, snarls and squawks. Dio or Mel (or both) had called up small black bears, and together with the great brown of the Meadow, Dio’s dog and Mel’s chicken they were tearing into the remaining three skeletons.

Mel’s little berserk ball of feathers pecked through a skull.

I dragged myself back into the fight, and together we finished it.

Afterwards, as we tended our wounds, I handed the strange little figurine to Kate.

“What is it?” I asked.

She examined the figurine. It looked a bit like the head and shoulders of a woman, her head branching into horns. Kate sprinkled a small packet of dust from one of her pouches and closed her eyes. When she opened them, she looked intrigued.

“It summons fungus” she said.

“Ah.” I didn’t know what to make of this. “So we’ll never be without mushrooms, then?”

“It summons fungal creatures, big ones. Animated, angry, killer fungus monsters that will attack our foes.” She looked fascinated by the idea.

“I see.” I said. “You can keep it.”

She looked happy.

The brown bear squatted happily by Mel, getting its neck scratched, and Dio’s dog was busily chewing a bone. The chicken was pecking at a rib cage, which I found disturbing.

“Everyone,” I called, “we have Terjon’s artifact.” I looked at Kate, but she was too interested in her new fungi-pet to respond. “Now we return it to him.”

“And then,” interrupted Fox, “We get some cooperation in the hunt for Lareth?”

“I hope so.” I said. “All that’s left is to kill the bear.”

“What!” Mel was staring at me, shocked, and Dio along with her. Even Perry and Bar were giving me strange looks.

“It’s a killer,” I explained. “Like the gnolls. We can’t let it go.”

“You’re not killing my bear!” Mel looked like she was either going to cry or hit me. Reynard moved behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. He looked at me and shook his head.

“It served us, and its territory isn’t near any farms or villages.” Dio said, moving to stand with Reynard and Mel. “We should leave it here, free.”

I saw the way this was going. I nodded.

Mel looked relieved. She hugged the bear, and then gave it a push. “Away now. Go away.” The huge thing got up and lumbered off, back towards the stone circle where we’d found it.

I’ll never understand Naturalists.

End Part the Twentieth

 

hehe........Anyone know where I can get me one of these chickens? Austraila maybe? I think my chow/lab mix would have a hard time standing toe to toe with this little berserk ball of feathers.

OB1 this is another example of your ability to tell an entertaining story, while guiding the readers thru this adventure in an almost unspoilered fashion.

Please keep it coming.

 

BEAR!!! :yikes:

 

"fungi-pet" like chia-pet? That's good, that's really, really good. The whole thing is good; keep writing!

 

Checking calendar.........yup, it's about time for OB1's next installment of Elves in the Temple. Finding it hard to sleep.......can't consentrate.......need EitT fix......must hang on.......OB1 help me.

 

Part the Twenty-First: Cave Dwellers

“I will not have an icon for demon worshippers in my church!” Terjon’s voice, so recently full of bonhomie and honeyed words of gratitude, was now hostile.

The meeting had started well. Terjon, Hommlet’s high priest of Saint Cuthbert, had appeared grateful for the return of an amulet of Saint Cuthbert recovered from the haunted Emridy Meadows. Then Kate had shown Terjon the odd figurine that had been found alongside the Cuthbert amulet.

“We just wanted to know what you could tell us about the figurine,” said Jack, “we meant no offense.” In Jack’s experience, asking academics or priests to lecture was a sure way to get into their good graces.

It seemed to work. Terjon’s voice calmed. “The icon is dedicated to the Lady of Fungi, a demoness. Her followers were among those who battled at Emridy Meadows.” His voice became stern. “I would advise you to dispose of it at once.”

Jack nodded seriously, while Kate’s face remained carefully blank.

“I was wondering,” asked Jack, “if you’d heard anything about a bandit leader seen recently near Hommlet?”

Terjon’s face hardened. “I have heard that you were seen traveling with a man accused of being the leader of the Moathouse bandits.” Terjon paused. “If you will excuse me, I have Church business to attend to.”

The travelers left the church.

Jack’s face was grim as the group headed south towards Hommlet’s smithy. He’d hoped that assisting Terjon would provide a lead in tracking down the escaped Lareth. It hadn’t.

Brother Smyth greeted the travelers with a carefully neutral gaze. Jack noticed something new; a small, well made wooden chest by the smith’s anvil.

Jack un-strapped his over-stuffed backpack and approached the smith. “I’ve something for you” said Jack, producing a sack from within the backpack.

“Now what…” said Brother Smyth, but Jack interrupted.

“When you asked for this,” said Jack, “I wasn’t sure you were serious. Still, here it is.” Jack dumped the contents of the sack onto the ground before the smith’s feet. “I’ve brought you the head of a giant.”

It had been perfunctorily bled and cleaned before wrapping, leaving the flesh a waxy off-white. Sunken, dead eyes stared up at Brother Smyth. Jack dropped the now empty sack over the head. “Enjoy it,” said Jack. “Now, about showing us your best stock?”

Smyth pulled his eyes away from the head and looked at Jack. Smyth’s face had turned faintly green. “Come back in a day or two and I’ll have what you’re looking for.”

Jack nodded and started to turn away. “Wait,” said Smyth. “I have a request to make, if you’d care to hear it.”

“Yes?” said Jack.

Smyth gestured towards the chest by the anvil. “This was delivered yesterday. I can’t open it without breaking the lock.”

“What makes you think I can do anything?” asked Jack.

“You’re an adventurer” said Smyth.

Jack smiled, and examined the lock. It was an elegant and complicated affair. A double acting lever tumbler; lifting any one of the tumblers too high would be just as bad as not lifting it high enough. Rare and very tricky, probably Dwarven work. “Perry,” said Jack, “a quick prayer to Moradin might help.”

“As you wish, Jack” said Perry. “May Moradin guide your hand.”

Jack worked carefully, recalling his lessons. The first step was to rake the pins with a wide pick while applying light torque with a small tension wrench. The rest was a matter of feel, using a narrower pick to slip each pin to just the right height, neither too high nor too low, until the tension locked it in place.

As Jack worked on the lock, Kate examined the Fungus Figurine, her expression unreadable.

“You going to keep it?” asked Dio.

“Yes” said Kate, pale fingers tracing the runes on the bottom of the icon. She looked up at Dio and gave a brief, nervous smile. “Do you think Terjon is right? Is it evil?”

Dio gave a tight lipped smile in return and looked away. “I’m not the one to ask.”

Kate nodded and returned to examining the runes.

“What do they say?” asked Dio.

“Made in Kara Tur” said Kate.

Jack whispered a quick thanks to Moradin when the last pin snapped into place and the lock finally opened.

“Very good” said Smyth, and removed a book from the now open chest. “You can have the rest.”

Jack reached into the chest and retrieved a small, elaborately carved horn. His fingers tingled slightly as he touched it. “Here,” he said, standing and offering the horn to Kate, “check this when you get the chance.” Kate took the horn and Jack turned back to the smith. “You’ll have new stock for us to examine tomorrow?”

“Or the next day” said Brother Smyth.

Jack nodded, and then paused. “You wouldn’t happen to have heard anything more about bandits in this area?”
“No” said Smyth.

“Where to now?” asked Perry as Jack led the travelers south-east.

“Jaroo” said Jack.

The group entered the rough built cabin of Jaroo, Druid of the Old Faith.

Tall, slim, and carrying the anemic pallor of the long term vegetarian, Jaroo stood in the cabin’s main room. Beside him was a young girl, Amii, the woodcutter’s daughter.

The girl looked unwell.

Jaroo looked up with placid interest. “How may I help you?”

Dio stepped forwards, holding out a packet to Jaroo. “I found the swamp lotus.”

Jaroo took the package with a wide smile. “Wonderful!” Jaroo unwrapped the package, revealing a green stemmed plant sporting clusters of white flowers.

“It looks just like hemlock” said Meleny.

“It’s a relative of hemlock” said Jaroo, beginning to prepare the swamp lotus as a tea. “Sometimes its called cow’s bane. Prepared incorrectly, it can be a deadly poison.” Jaroo began stirring the tea, adding ingredients. “Prepared correctly, it becomes a powerful medicine.”

Jaroo poured a cup of the tea, and held it to Aimee’s lips. The child drank. Almost immediately, her color improved.

Jaroo smiled up at Dio. “With this herb, you’ve saved a life.”

Dio looked down and away, but she was smiling.

Jack cleared his throat.

Jaroo stood and looked at Jack. “Yes?”

“We’re looking for a bandit that escaped near Hommlet. A tall man, muscular, with blond hair. We’d appreciate any information you might have.”

The Druid looked thoughtful. “I hear very little of such things. Hommlet’s security is largely the responsibility of Kenter Nevets, the village elder, and of course Burne and his men.”

“Thank you” said Jack, and gestured for the team to follow as he left.

Dio was still smiling as the group moved up the path.

Fox moved up and joined Jack.

“So now we go see Nevets?” asked Fox.

“That’s the plan” said Jack.

“Do you ever get the feeling we’re just running in circles?” asked Fox.

“Never more so than in Hommlet” answered Jack.

The travelers arrived at the largest single building in Hommlet, a defensive stockade and tower that doubled as both a private home and meeting hall.

A bone thin man with a shockingly large head, Nevets greeted the travelers with a wide, yellow toothed grin. “Welcome, friends.” Nevets eyes locked on Barbara’s gladiator armor. “What can this old man do for such fine, healthy, well rounded young…” Nevets voice trailed off.

Jack interposed himself between Nevets and Barbara. Nevets blinked. “Sorry, sonny. What were you here about?”

Barbara smiled widely as Jack took up the conversation.

“Sir,” Jack began, “we were wondering if you could provide us with some information.”

“Certainly, sonny” said Nevets, slowly moving to the left, attempting to peer around Jack’s shoulder.

Jack moved again, remaining between Nevetts and Bar. “Have you heard anything about an escaped bandit in the area?”

“Nah,” said Nevets, “but I hear there’s more to young Elmo than there seems to be.” Nevets made a sudden move to the right, but Jack matched him.

“We were really hoping to get some information about that escaped bandit” said Jack.

“You know,” said Nevets faking to the right again before moving around Jack to the left “I do know something about …” his voice trailed off again as his eyes focused on Barbara.

Barbara struck an heroic pose. The old man’s smile threatened to reach his ears.

Jack once again interposed himself.
“…bandits” Nevets continued. “I hear there are some orc raiders hiding out in some caves up to the north. It would be a great service to Hommlet if some strong young people like yourself would head on up there and take care of the situation.”

“Right,” said Jack, “and I suppose after that you’ll tell us what you know about the specific escaped bandit we’re looking for?”

“Yup” said Nevets, sneaking another peek past Jack.

“Fine,” said Jack, “everybody out. We’re hunting orcs.”

Barbara gave Nevets a wink as the travelers left.

The journey to the northern caves was uneventful, though the horde of berserk orcs at the end livened things up a bit.

End Part the Twenty First

 

Nice work.