I am quite sure that I am not a Goblin -- it says Wood Elf, I even double checked, and I am certainly not going to be filthy.
However, a pleasant and fortuitous celebration to all does appear to be in order, and thus, I will so will it.
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Only a DM since 1980 (3000+ Sessions) / PhD, MS, MA / Mixed, Bi, Trans, Woman / No longer welcome in the US, apparently
Wyrlde: Adventures in the Seven Cities .-=] Lore Book | Patreon | Wyrlde YT [=-. An original Setting for 5e, a whole solar system of adventure. Ongoing updates, exclusies, more. Not Talking About It / Dubbed The Oracle in the Cult of Mythology Nerds
I am quite sure that I am not a Goblin -- it says Wood Elf, I even double checked, and I am certainly not going to be filthy.
However, a pleasant and fortuitous celebration to all does appear to be in order, and thus, I will so will it.
Oh, hey! I wanted to say that I got both of the Heroes' Feast books this Christmas, and I wanted to ask what you think I should prepare first since you're the resident cooking expert. I've read your posts, and you seem to be really knowledgeable and passionate about the subject and the books themselves.
I love cooking, but I've found that I'm more of an eating expert, unfortunately.
I am quite sure that I am not a Goblin -- it says Wood Elf, I even double checked, and I am certainly not going to be filthy.
However, a pleasant and fortuitous celebration to all does appear to be in order, and thus, I will so will it.
Oh, hey! I wanted to say that I got both of the Heroes' Feast books this Christmas, and I wanted to ask what you think I should prepare first since you're the resident cooking expert. I've read your posts, and you seem to be really knowledgeable and passionate about the subject and the books themselves.
I love cooking, but I've found that I'm more of an eating expert, unfortunately.
Hmm.
For simple but filling and fairly fast, Tavern Noodles from Flavors is good -- you can sub the eggs for any kind of veggie or meat.
I just made the Beluir Salmon from Flavors a couple nights ago, and it was pretty snacky but took a bit more prep time. Still, I did have folks drooling in the zoom, lol.
The Hommlet Turkey from Feast is pretty filling (basically an open faced turkey sammich)
Now, if you are talking something that has more heft, is a bit more traditional, well, the Hand Pies from Feast would be it.
If you can get some "chopped" beef, or beef in small slivers or bits, use that instead of hamburger and adjust cooking accordingly for a richer bit.
And if you want flaky instead of crusty for them, well, then be very careful but use phyllo dough instead of pie crust dough. Phyllo is super yummy, but is also very thin and less durable, so you have to handle it more delicately than pie crust dough. Do not use the "flaky biscuits" dough.
You could also use that "pizza dough" in a tube if you want a more strong crust than the pie dough.
Only a DM since 1980 (3000+ Sessions) / PhD, MS, MA / Mixed, Bi, Trans, Woman / No longer welcome in the US, apparently
Wyrlde: Adventures in the Seven Cities .-=] Lore Book | Patreon | Wyrlde YT [=-. An original Setting for 5e, a whole solar system of adventure. Ongoing updates, exclusies, more. Not Talking About It / Dubbed The Oracle in the Cult of Mythology Nerds
I am quite sure that I am not a Goblin -- it says Wood Elf, I even double checked, and I am certainly not going to be filthy.
However, a pleasant and fortuitous celebration to all does appear to be in order, and thus, I will so will it.
Oh, hey! I wanted to say that I got both of the Heroes' Feast books this Christmas, and I wanted to ask what you think I should prepare first since you're the resident cooking expert. I've read your posts, and you seem to be really knowledgeable and passionate about the subject and the books themselves.
I love cooking, but I've found that I'm more of an eating expert, unfortunately.
Hmm.
For simple but filling and fairly fast, Tavern Noodles from Flavors is good -- you can sub the eggs for any kind of veggie or meat.
I just made the Beluir Salmon from Flavors a couple nights ago, and it was pretty snacky but took a bit more prep time. Still, I did have folks drooling in the zoom, lol.
The Hommlet Turkey from Feast is pretty filling (basically an open faced turkey sammich)
Now, if you are talking something that has more heft, is a bit more traditional, well, the Hand Pies from Feast would be it.
If you can get some "chopped" beef, or beef in small slivers or bits, use that instead of hamburger and adjust cooking accordingly for a richer bit.
And if you want flaky instead of crusty for them, well, then be very careful but use phyllo dough instead of pie crust dough. Phyllo is super yummy, but is also very thin and less durable, so you have to handle it more delicately than pie crust dough. Do not use the "flaky biscuits" dough.
You could also use that "pizza dough" in a tube if you want a more strong crust than the pie dough.
Wow! Thank you for this!
I'm thinking of going with the noodles and then the hand pies. Not today though, as we have plenty of leftovers from our Christmas and Christmas Eve dinners, and I hate wasting food.
All right - here we go! Thumbs up the segments of the stories you enjoy! This was a fun "Merry Christmas" surprise to sit down and write (though, it's now officially 2am, so the day after Christmas)... probably gonna have to post segmented chapters because of forum limitations... would love to hear your thoughts... as always, this was written with comedy in mind (and hopefully that's very, very, very clear!) - so hopefully no one is offended with how their character in the story was handled...
The cast, per Formerly AllMightDMwhateverNowSpiderTrapper...
AEDorsay: Wood Elf Transmutation Wizard. A former writer whose books were so popular that every time they went into a city they got mobbed, so they took up adventuring. they wear artfully torn robes that were mangled by the paparazzi.
SirTawmis: Beasthide Shifter Battlemaster Fighter. a grizzled veteran of war with a love for colorful, illustrated stories.
ChoirOfFire: Tiefling Eloquence Bard/Fiend Warlock. a former human acolyte of a sun god, who caught the attention of an archdevil who made a bargain with them to expose the church of its misdeeds. so they became a tiefling & burned the church to the ground.
Fry_Doodles: Goblin Scribes Wizard. They use drawings to make magic, and could cast 9th level spells if they wanted, except for 1 thing. the more powerful the spell, the longer the drawing takes to make, and they are too impatient to finish a drawing and end up frying the doodles with fire bolt
IAmSposta: A Minotaur genie warlock. a unicorn headed genie who is their own patron, who during a time of disaster and mayhem, took a group of refugees into their sanctuary where they were safe. Very bad at giving advice, never let them become a therapist.
DrakenBrine: Dragonborn Fathomless warlock. a topaz dragonborn who fell in love with a corrupted kelpie (beautiful lady made of seaweed), so the kelpie granted them powers in exchange for serving their dark whims
Gnomarchy: forest gnome assassin rogue. a revolutionary whose sentences are as short as their targets lives
KayakingPoodle: Gnoll Ranger. they are a protector of boats who travels up and down the river, keeping the beasties away from the boats filled with shipments
Quar1on: Aarakocra lunar sorcerer. Their three forms correspond with their three different spellcasting focuses: an origami duck (new moon), a pair of scissors (Crescent), & a moon rock (full).
WoodsGirl0402: firbolg trickery cleric. They have a strange obsession with spiders, arachnophobes beware.
Nothic2SeeHere2: not a character, but rather an NPC nothic that pops up from time to time and gives strangely good advice in the form of cracking dad jokes.
Wsyperra: a willowisp (reskinned fairy with telekinetic feat) shepherd druid. they are friends with many small forest animals such as rabbits & rats
The_summoning_dark: unknown race shadow sorcerer. a skeletally thin, tall figure whose features are hidden by a grinning white mask, they disappear sometimes and then return. It’s strange, but once they return, an NPC always get murdered, and the_summoning_dark knows exactly where to find the body
BlackBear_: Koala-folk (reskinned small tabaxi) Beast Barbarian/Beastmaster Ranger. Their beast companion is a kangaroo which they paid a druid to awaken. the kangaroo does all the talking but the Koala does most of the fighting, tough the kangaroo helps during combat
TheFriendlyArchey: fairy bard. Plays a viola and is just filled with joy at every possible event and outcome, even when someone dies. They are never invited to funerals.
HelloIml: Goliath Thunder Bard. A strange looking creature who was one part of an ettin but the ettin was split and given 2 different bodies. Loves to violently strum their electric guitar during stealth missions. they have an amp strapped to their back
She was elegant, beautiful, and well educated – which was normal for many of the Wood Elves, who took their education and understanding of the world serious. Gifted with time and a longer life, their minds were full of wisdom and intellect that the human mind rarely had time to grasp.
The man sitting across from her, an old, grizzled, graybeard veteran of the Ordinance of Great Liberty war – he sat across from her, his armor, sword, and shield as beaten up and devoid of their original colors, much like his beard.
“Will you not entertain us with one of your stories, Sir Tawmis?” AEDorsay, the wood elf, asked of the veteran human sitting across from. Her lips were formed into a mischievous grin. Sir Tawmis looked up and huffed aloud.
“I am telling you, Wood Elf,” he muttered, “they’re not stories. They’re real accounts of what happened during the OGL War.”
“Yes, of course,” her tone was like a mother comforting a young child. “Why not tell us the one about the man who lost his bag?”
Sir Tawmis peered up. “You were there, AEDorsay – you know that was no normal man.”
“But then,” AEDorsay smiled, “nor are you. You blood has ancient magic that flows through it. I’ve seen it. It allows you to channel and become bear-like. But you’re no Druid or Ranger.”
“I am a Shifter,” Sir Tawmis growls. “Long ago, my grand grandfather was wounded badly during a battle. He stumbled, dying and collapsed in a cave. A woman in the cave, exiled from her village, tried to save him – but he was dying from his wounds. She knew of one way to save him – infect him with the same curse that had gotten her exiled – Lycanthropy. The change boosted his system and allowed his wounds to mend much quicker. But that also meant there was a chance; any children that descended from him would be born with the curse upon them.”
“Yes,” she nodded again, her tone like a mother speaking to her child. “But go on, the story about the man who lost his bag. There were some of the people I hadn’t met before you and I met to track him down. I’d love to hear it again.”
Sir Tawmis heaved a deep sigh. Is this what his life had become? He was once a great fighter in the Ordinance of Great Liberty war. “You know, we should just hire a bard to hear my story, so that they can expand on it and embellish it like they always tend to do.”
“Well you met a bard on this mission, did you not?” AEDorsay asked, smiling. She knew the answer. But she loved his reaction.
“A bard? How about two of them?” Sir Tawmis shook his head, as if trying to clear the memory from his skull.
“Why not hire them?” she asked, chuckling to herself.
“Hire them? Why they were the two most outlandish bards I’d ever seen!” Sir Tawmis puffed. “Complete opposites! One a tiny fairy and the other a towering goliath.”
“So the man with the missing bag,” AEDorsay urged.
“Fine…” Sir Tawmis sat back in his chair.
Chapter One: The Devil Went Down To Joureja.
Fleck of snow drifted from the heaven, descending in spiraling patterns, like fragile wizards who had cast feather falling from some high mountain top. Sir Tawmis plunged through the increasingly deeper snow when suddenly a man who wasn’t there before stood in front of him. The man, dressed in odd red and white attire, wearing what appeared to be a red wizard’s hat, with white fur trim at the base and a small, white ball of fur on the tip. Sir Tawmis looked up; the man was rather large for a wizard. “Pardon me, wizard.”
“I need your help,” the ‘wizard’ said. Though he was asking for help, his voice was somehow still, oddly jolly in nature.
“Sorry, wizard,” Sir Tawmis grunted, “just trying to find the tavern in this town before I freeze out here. I am actually here to meet a wizard friend of my own. A,” he looked the oddly dressed wizard up and down, “wood elf. I’ve got no time for helping magical wizards find their magical things.”
“That’s just it,” the ‘wizard’ said. “I have indeed lost something rather magical. A bag.”
“A bag?” Sir Tawmis looked up at the ‘wizard’ – then looked around. “If you’ve dropped a bag, you’re going to have to probably wait until the snow disappears.”
“I didn’t drop it,” the ‘wizard’ replied. “I believe someone took it.”
“I don’t know much about this town,” Sir Tawmis shrugged, “but there’s a good chance there’s a Thieves Guild just like there is in every town – no matter how big or small.”
“If you won’t help me find it, will you just keep an eye out for it? It’s very unique,” the ‘wizard’ assured Sir Tawmis. “Green and Red colored. Hard to miss.”
Sir Tawmis looked at the ‘wizard’ – who also was quite hard to miss, yet Sir Tawmis had nearly collided into the ‘wizard’ who seemingly appeared out of nowhere. “If I find this ‘bag’ of yours, wizard. How will I find you?”
“Call out for ‘Nikalos’ and I will hear you,” the wizard assured him.
“Deal, Nikalos,” Sir Tawmis said, but when he looked the wizard was nowhere to be found. How could a wizard dressed like that simply appear and disappear so quietly? Magic. Blasted magic. Sir Tawmis as a fighter was not one to understand the complexity of magic and so, in his heart and mind, he did not trust those who used it.
“Welcome to the North Pole Inn and Tavern,” a human who later introduced himself as Enpesea, “finest tavern in all of Joureja.” Joureja was the name of this small town, and by the looks of it, this was the only Inn and Tavern in Joureja – thus making Enpesea’s statement correct.
Just as Sir Tawmis entered, music played, as if the veteran fighter had some form of entrance music. The source of the music came from a Tiefling Bard standing center stage. They were introduced by Enpesea as “Choir of Fire” – a suitable name for a Tiefling Bard. Choir for the music, fire for their hellish origin.
“And though, I once worshipped the sun god, The burning sphere high in the sky From the flames below, I was called And I needed to know why. A devil exposed the Church for its lies All the angels were deception from the skies And so with the devil’s sound I did burn the Sun God’s church to the ground.”
After their performance, Sir Tawmis approached Choir Of Fire. “So, an arch-devil called out to you?”
Choir of Fire took a deep swig of their drink. “That’s the story. Wasn’t always like this.” They gestured to themselves. “A tiefling, I mean. Once I burned the church, I was reborn in flame and brimstone. Turns out, it was the arch-devil who planted those lies. Shocking, right? A devil lied. Apparently the Arch-Devil was envious of the sun god’s flame.” Choir of Fire laughed. “You know, it was the weirdest thing. As the church had been burning a very unusual wizard approached me. Said that the church had gifts for children in need. Talk about making me feel worse. Said my day of redemption would come one day. I don’t know what he meant. Certainly nothing’s happened and it’s been years.”
“This wizard,” Sir Tawmis moaned, “was he wearing red and white? Kind of a girthy gentleman?”
Choir of Fire laughed, “That’s accurate. Big, white, beard?” She saw Sir Tawmis’ expression. “I take it you know him too?”
“Just met him outside about thirty minutes ago,” Sir Tawmis muttered. “He lost his bag. Some special red and green bag. Asked me to help find it. But then disappeared. Thinks someone took it.”
“Perhaps this is my redemption arc,” Choice of Fire laughed. “Mind if I go with you searching for this mysterious bag?”
Sir Tawmis nodded. “Sure. Would love the company. Good to know I am not crazy and the odd wizard was seen by someone else. That’s at least comforting.”
“Let me introduce you to the rest of the band,” Choir of Fire said.
“Wait, it’s not just you?” Sir Tawmis asked.
“Oh no,” Choir of Fire shook their head. “I am part of a band.” She gestured to a towering eight foot Goliath, that – until she introduced him – Sir Tawmis had thought he was some sort of statue decoration. His skin was grey in color, the tones and shadows, almost mimicking that of actual stone. “This is HelloIml,” Choir of Fire explained. “You’d think he’s of Stone Giant descent, but he’s not? He hardly speaks. HelloIml, want to tell the old man?”
The large goliath’s voice rumbled like thunder high in the mountains, reverberating off walls of stone. “Name’s HelloIml. I used to be an Ettin.”
“The two headed giant-things?” Sir Tawmis examined HelloIml closely – he bore no scar of a severed head.
“Yes,” HelloIml replied. “However, my other half was violent and cruel, while, I myself simply wanted to play instruments and sing. A green hag by the name of Mealladh found us – and said she had no use for me – and somehow cast me out of the Ettin body so that I became my own being – as this Stone Goliath – while my … other half, remained an Ettin, but now consumed by his violent urges. The hag took him and disappeared.”
“And this,” Choir of Fire again gestured towards HelloIml, “is The Friendly Archey.”
Sir Tawmis stared at the goliath then back to Choir of Fire. Suddenly, flying out of the goliath’s grey hair was a small fairy. “Name’s the Friendly Archey,” the tiny fairy felt the need to reintroduce itself. “If you’re curious, ‘Mealladh’ is a fey word for ‘gritch’ or I think you mortals call it ‘grouch.’”
“They’re not really in the band,” Choir of Fire whispered gesturing towards the overly excited fairy, “They’re more like our promoter. Because shutting them up is nearly impossible and they insist on dramatic entrances and speaking to everyone. They keep calling us ‘mortal’ too.”
“Huh,” Sir Tawmis thought. “I had a dream once where I knew a Satyr, who was also a bard, from the fey realm, that insisted on calling people not of the fey realm as ‘mortals.’” Sir Tawmis looked at HelloIml and saw what appeared to be a backpack made of a sturdy substance. “May I ask what that is?”
“That?” the goliath smiled. “It’s an amplifier. It’s plugged into the Earth plane.”
“You mean the Plane of Earth,” Sir Tawmis figured, which would make sense for the odd, looking ‘stone’ goliath.
“No, the Earth plane,” the HelloIml explained. “Apparently there’s a plane out there called ‘Earth’ and this box that The Friendly Archey got me connects to that plane and draws elasticity from there.”
“The word you’re looking for, big guy,” The Friendly Archey explained, “is electricity.”
“Yes, that,” the stone goliath nodded. He then strummed his unusual instrument and a sound like no other poured out of the device on his back. “This is an elasticity guitar.”
“Electric,” the tiny fairy sighed. “I’ve heard of a very powerful wizard in town,” the fairy added, “who may be able to aid us on our epic quest.”
“This is hardly an epic quest,” Sir Tawmis muttered. “We’re just looking for a damn wizard’s magical red and green bag.”
Chapter Three: Wizardry
This ‘wizard’ the fairy knew – did not live in the small village. He lived just outside, along the farmland. However, this ‘wizard’ wasn’t a farmer. No. It was a goblin who lived – literally – in the hillside. In a hole in the ground there lived a goblin. It was a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it a was a goblin-hole, and that means filth.
“Hey! Hey!” the overly excited goblin welcomed the new guests as they stepped into his hole. Each of them was greeted by the sound of their feet slushing through mud. “Who wants to do some roleplay, huh?”
“We’re actually here seeking your help,” Sir Tawmis explained. “I,” he looked at the fairy positioned on HelloIml’s head, “understand that you’re a powerful wizard.”
“Indeed! Indeed! Quite powerful! Very, very, powerful. The most powerful. But. Roleplay first?” the goblin asked again, pleading eyes gazing upward.
“Maybe some other time, if you could help us locate a lost bag, that would be of tremendous help,” Choir of Fire cut in, seeing that Sir Tawmis was ready to walk out of the goblin’s abode.
“Ah, fine, fine! But roleplay after I cast the spell?” the goblin then asked.
“Perhaps,” Choir of Fire replied, entertaining the goblin with no intention of fulfilling the idea.
“Excellent! Excellent!” The goblin known as Fry Doodles threw down several pieces of paper.
“Your spell parchments are blank,” Sir Tawmis pointed out.
“Blank until I begin drawing on them! Locate Object is a second level spell. This will take me a moment! Describe the item you need to find!” the goblin said.
“Red and green bag,” Sir Tawmis answered plainly.
“I must draw the bag on my parchments, envision it in my mind,” the goblin began. Sixteen minutes into it, the goblin was drawing red and green swirls all over his parchment.
“How long is thing going to take?” Sir Tawmis asked.
Suddenly Fry Doodles threw the papers into the air. “So impatient! I tried to be patient this time! I tried! But no! You! You did it this time!”
As the papers swirled downward, he looked. “The answer is there!”
“Where?” Sir Tawmis watched the papers flutter to the floor.
“The way they swirled… like a maelstrom,” the goblin awed then looked at the two red circles overlaid in front of him – shaped like a heart. “You must go to… The Heart of the Maelstrom.”
“The Heart of the Maelstrom,” Sir Tawmis sighed. “Our in the Black Lakes? That one?”
“Yes,” the goblin nodded, confident he’d read the spell signs correctly.
“Someone stole this wizard’s bag and went there,” Sir Tawmis persisted. “To one of the most dangerous areas in this world?” Sir Tawmis shook his head. “The goblin is daft. Let’s get out of here.”
“Roleplay now?” Fry Doodles cried out as the door shut behind Sir Tawmis, Choir of Fire, The Friendly Archey and HelloIml.
“OK,” The Friendly Archey replied, “that didn’t go as well as we’d hoped. But there’s another magic user I have heard of that’s around here. And he lives back in the town.”
“It better not be another goblin,” Sir Tawmis muttered.
“No, this one lives on M-A-N-E street,” the fairy chuckled.
“I think you mean M-A-I-N,” Sir Tawmis corrected.
“No, I meant what I said, it’s Mane Street,” the fairy asserted.
“Right, MAIN – as in M-A-I-N,” Sir Tawmis replied, more firmly. However, upon reaching the street sign, it did indeed read “Mane Street.”
“Is everyone in this town an idiot?” Sir Tawmis questioned.
“You’re in this town too,” the fairy giggled.
Sir Tawmis turned to Choir of Fire, “I see why the fairy isn’t in the band.”
After a loud knock at the door – the towering figure that swung open the door made it clear why it was perhaps called ‘Mane Street.’ An eight foot, towering Minotaur stood in the doorway, rippling muscles that moved like gentle waves, lapping in a lake. However, when he spoke, his voice was higher pitched than the fairy’s, “Hello, hello! Come in! Come in! So good to see you T-F-A!”
“Come, come, sit down, sit down,” the massive minotaur with a voice that sounded like it was coming out of a bard’s flute gestured to large, colorful chairs. Immediately, all around, Sir Tawmis took notice to all the rainbows and unicorns. “Interesting paintings,” Sir Tawmis remarked, mostly beneath his breath.
Apparently the minotaur had excellent hearing. “Oh, aren’t they? It’s true what they say, you know! The flatulence of a unicorn does indeed create rainbows! That’s why you can always find leprechauns at the end of these super, fabulous, magical rainbows! Because they fall off the unicorns they’re riding around in the fey realm. Has nothing to do with the legend of gold. Well,” the minotaur paused and giggled, “I suppose that’s not entirely true. The feces of unicorns come out looking like golden versions of horse manure! So I suppose there is some truth to the rumor about gold at the end of a rainbow if that unicorn also dookeied after it tooted.”
“What… what am I even hearing right now,” Sir Tawmis shook his head, certain that he was rapidly losing his grip on reality. The towering, muscular minotaur that looked as if it could snap a tree in half effortlessly, seemed to be as deadly as a blade of grass.
“So you might be wondering why me, this big, burly minotaur has all these cutesy unicorn and rainbow paintings,” the minotaur asked. “Well, I can tell you! My name is IAmSposta, and my people and I were whisked away by a unicorn headed genie, who said we were in great danger. So he made this magical rainbow that we all crossed into another plane and we watched as the Heart of the Maelstrom destroyed out home in the center of the Black Lakes.”
The Heart of the Maelstrom.
Sir Tawmis looked at the fairy, scolding. This was some odd plan to venture into the Heart of the Maelstrom. “Fairy if you have planned this,” Sir Tawmis warned.
“I didn’t!” the fairy protested, raising its hands into the air.
“Are you all planning on going to the Black Lakes? Into the Heart of the Maelstrom? If so, I’d love to go! I do love adventure,” the minotaur clapped his hands together, excitedly. Then suddenly he looked downcast. “But who will water my plants? Take care of my things?”
“I will,” the fairy, The Friendly Archey volunteered. “We’re good friends. I can do it. Besides, venturing to the Heart of the Maelstrom is a horrible idea.”
“Oh, goodie!” the minotaur quickly rushed back into his bedroom and was back out in a moment, wearing an outfit that was a collision of colors – representing all the colors of the rainbow.
“So much for stealth,” Sir Tawmis muttered.
Chapter Five: Human Clay
“Speaking of stealth,” the newly joined minotaur said, closing his door behind him, once he was sure the fairy knew where everything was. “I happen to know someone really good at stealth.”
“They’re not a goblin, right,” Sir Tawmis asked.
“Goblin! Heavens, no! Those goblins live in filthy wet holes!” The minotaur shuddered at the thought of getting his colorful clothes dirty – how would they ever see the rainbow colors of his unicorn headed genie patron? “No! This is a forest gnome. He lives in the forest.”
“I could have guessed the second part of that,” Sir Tawmis sighed. “Which forest? This world has many forests.”
“Well, if we’re headed for the Heart of the Maelstrom, it’s along the way,” IAmSposta said, shining his horns and putting on small colorful caps on his horns. “He lives in Garden Gnome.”
“The forest … this forest gnome lives in… is called… Garden Gnome?” Sir Tawmis heaved a deep sigh.
“Yes,” the minotaur said, shocked that it seemed so odd. “It’s literally a large garden of the gods, full of forest gnomes. So it’s called Garden Gnome.”
“Of course it is,” Sir Tawmis nodded.
Choir of Fire chuckled. “It could be worse. We could have the goblin and the fairy with us.”
“Don’t remind me,” Sir Tawmis sighed.
The group had traveled for three hours and twenty eight minutes, when a large forest came into view. “Garden Gnome,” the minotaur said, making a wide gesture with his arms, as if announcing the opening to a play. The party reached the edge of the forest and saw all along the floor and trees were signs that read, “Gnome Sweet Gnome.”
“See,” the minotaur gestured. “Kind gnomes.”
“No,” Choir of Fire explained, before Sir Tawmis could. “That’s a human tradition of putting floor mats in front of doors that read, ‘Home Sweet Home.’”
“Seems rather odd to make a home out of sugar,” the minotaur shrugged. “But I’ve heard stories about Wereboars who made houses out of straw, sticks and bricks, because a werewolf was chasing them.”
Sir Tawmis opened his mouth to say something, and then thought better of it. “Can we just go find this gnome friend of yours?”
“I’ve already found you,” Sir Tawmis looked down to see a gnome, lying on the floor, between his legs, his dagger positioned just under Sir Tawmis’ gentiles.
“Well,” Sir Tawmis said, stepping away. “I got it hand it to you – you’re either very stealthy or we’re just so loud we didn’t hear you.”
“A little of both,” the gnome laughed. “Name’s Gnomarchy. What’s the game?”
“Apparently we are headed to the Heart of the Maelstrom,” Sir Tawmis shrugged. “We don’t know what to expect and could use someone who can stealth and pick locks.”
“And pockets too,” the gnome laughed and tossed Sir Tawmis his gold pouch.
“Perhaps,” Sir Tawmis replied, tying the pouch more securely.
“Be glad that’s the only pouch I cut, eh?” the gnome laughed.
Sir Tawmis looked at Choir of Fire who had to use all of their strength to stop from bursting out laughing.
“So that’s the plan then? Just stroll to the Black Lakes, get on a boat – and go into the Heart of the Maelstrom because some wizard told you he lost his bag?” Gnomarchy asked, scratching his head.
“You put it that way it sounds really stupid,” Sir Tawmis admitted, still uncertain why he’d even let things get this far. But something seemed to compel him forward – something in him wanted to help the odd wizard.
“Sounds like a fabulously horrible idea!” Gnomarchy chuckled. “But if we’re going to the Black Lakes, we’re going to need a light to guide us through the darkness. The Heart of the Maelstrom casts constant darkness over the lakes. And I’ve got just the thing. Well, not so much a thing, but a person in mind.”
The party followed Gnomarchy through the woods, into an area that became denser, wetter, and quickly reminded Sir Tawmis of the goblin hill they’d just been in. “Is there a reason we’re marching into a swamp?”
Gnomarchy turned their head. “Yes. You think I’d get lost in my own forest?”
“I don’t know what to think anymore,” Sir Tawmis admitted.
“WoodsGirl0402!” Gnomarchy suddenly called out.
“WoodsGirl0402?” Sir Tawmis asked.
“Ain’t you ever met a firbolg before? They’re odd ones – but they don’t have names. It’s just WoodGender and the number they are of that gender… so there’s WoodsMan309, WoodsThey432, and WoodsGirl is 0402,” the gnome shrugged. “I mean, everyone has their own naming conventions of how they do things.”
Sure enough, an attractive firbolg emerged from the murky swamp. “Oh, you brought friends, Gnomarchy? You know us firbolgs are a shy lot. What can I do for you?”
“We need Wsyperra,” the gnome winked. “Apparently this lot is headed for the Heart of the Maelstrom in search for some bag. So we could use Wsyperra’s light to cut through some of that blasted darkness. The light of a will-o-wisp would be handy.”
“I will see if Wsyperra will join you on your most noble quest,” the firbolg woman said, and seemingly disappeared back into the swamp. A moment later, a ball of light, swaying back and forth constantly appeared. “Wsyperra!” the gnome called out.
“Oh, it’s you!” the will-o-wisp called back. “WoodsGirl0402 said you’re all going to the Heart of the Maelstrom?”
“That seems to be the plan,” the gnome remarked.
Sir Tawmis took note – he’d heard horror stories of actual will-o-wisps… and what he was seeing was not a will-o-wisp. It was a fairy that glowed brightly.
As they marched back through the forest, Sir Tawmis slowed down his pace. “What’s the deal with Wsyperra?”
The gnome laughed, “We all pretend to accept the fact that Wsyperra is a will-o-wisp. Truth of the matter is, they’re a fairy who sneezed just as they were casting a light spell to light up a rabbit’s warren for them – and the effect created a permanent light spell on themselves. So, I suppose, to hide the fact, Wsyperra began telling people he was a will-o-wisp. Regardless, his light is magical and should hold out against the Heart of the Maelstrom’s continual darkness.”
Chapter Seven: Lunar Sea.
“If we are truly headed into the Heart of the Maelstrom, near the mountains, there is one who might provide great help,” Wsyperra’s tiny voice exclaimed. “He dwells high in the mountain tops of Featherstone.”
“Isn’t Featherstone home to the bird-people,” HelloIml asked, strumming his loud instrument, for dramatic effect.
“The Kenku?” Sir Tawmis asked.
“Oh, I do love ravens,” IAmSposta clapped his hands excitedly.
“Are they ravens?” Choir of Fire asked.
“I thought they were crows,” HelloIml replied.
“I love crows too,” IAmSposta giggled. How this massive minotaur sounded like a fourteen year old girl was beyond Sir Tawmis’ comprehension. “I just love birds.”
“They’re called Aarakocra,” Wsyperra’s voice sounded exasperated already. “The one we seek is named Quar1on.”
“Quar-one-on?” Sir Tawmis asked.
“Yes,” Wsyperra replied. “But it’s a one.”
“That’s what I said,” Sir Tawmis replied, confused.
“No, as in the number one,” Wsyperra sighed as if it were obvious. “The number in their name details their rank in their order. 1 is more important than 2. And 2 is more important than 3. So on and so on. So since they are a 1 – they are the mostly highly respected of their flock.”
Choir of Fire kept stride with Sir Tawmis and whispered, “Ever notice that the next person recruited ‘knows someone else’ that we should speak with?”
Sir Tawmis nodded. “I noticed. Seems like forced telling story. Like we’re just actors in some weird story being told. And perhaps that’s why we feel compelled to do this.”
“Oh, I love being compelled,” came the burly minotaur’s reply from behind them.
“Contrived,” HelloIml said, strumming his instrument, producing a loud noise. “That’s the word you’re looking for. A story that feels rushed or lazy is called contrived.”
“Thanks,” Sir Tawmis looked at HelloIml, then back at Choir of Fire, and then his gaze went forward. The party had just reached Featherstone. On one side of the towering mountain, its grim face stared out towards the Black Lakes, where in the center of the massive bodies of waters, raged a darkened magical storm of red waters, churning ever upward – the Heart of the Maelstrom. The red waters were said to be clay, deep beneath the lakes that were churning in the waters – but the story evolved that it was the blood of those who lived on the scattered islands of the Black Lakes when the Maelstrom first emerged. It developed the name the Heart of the Maelstrom, because the blood-like waters churned like blood pounding into a vein, into dark, mysterious clouds above that crackled constantly and unleashed unnatural, red bolts of lightning – also said to be due to the water absorbed into the clouds from the clay – but everyone else said it was ‘blood lightning.’
The other side of the towering mountain faced a serene ocean, whose waters barely even seemed to ripple or have waves. The ocean water was impossibly still – which is why it earned its name Lunar Sea – because when the ocean was first spotted, it truly appeared as if the moon were laying on the ocean waters and could be touched by swimming out to it.
Quar1on, according to Wsyperra, was a bird race known as an Aarakocra – who was a lunar sorcerer – whose focus changed, depending on the phase of the moon.
“So,” Sir Tawmis grunted as they continued to climb up Featherstone. “You mean to tell me this wizard…”
“Sorcerer,” Wsyperra corrected. “Very different; wizards study to get their magic, sorcerers are born with it.”
“Right, sorcerer,” Sir Tawmis grunted as he reached for the next stone to grab, nearly losing his footing. “He gets his power based on the phases of the moon?”
“Correct,” Wsyperra floated upward effortlessly, pausing constantly for the others who could not fly.
“And he has three – what did you call them?” Sir Tawmis asked.
“One you said is an organ-duck?” Sir Tawmis asked, pausing to catch his breath.
Wsyperra fluttered in circles, waiting. “Origami. Are you truly that uneducated?” Sir Tawmis clenched his fist, but felt Choir of Fire’s hand on his shoulder to ease his frustration. “Origimi is a from Kamiori – where the people of that island developed an art of paper folding. He uses this during the new moon, because the new moon symbolizes creation. And with origami, you create new things from paper.”
“Paper folding,” Sir Tawmis muttered. “And his second focus, for the crescent moon is a pair of scissors.”
“Yes,” Wsyperra said. “And before you ask, it’s because the crescent moon looks cut. And his third focus, so I don’t have to repeat myself for a third time, is an actual moon rock, which he uses during the full moon to honor the gift of the moon.”
Sir Tawmis lunged at Wsyperra, but Choir of Fire caught him by the belt and prevented him from reaching the ‘will-o-wisp’ fairy.
The party finally reached the top – where they were greeted by a sight of several nests. One stuck out more so than the others – it was larger, also precariously out on a limb that overlooked the Lunar Sea. They could see one of the Aarakocra gazing outward from the nest, seemingly in a deep trance – or perhaps a conversation with the moon itself.
Sir Tawmis began to edge his way across the branch when suddenly the bird-being named Quar1on snapped out of their trance and began screaming. “Hey! Whoa! Whoa! Stop! Stop! What by the gleaming moon are you doing? Your dumb weight will send my nest over the edge! Do you have hollow bones? I don’t think so! Maybe a hollow skull! But certainly no hollow bones!”
Sir Tawmis quickly backed off the branch, relieved. “Not really a big fan of heights.”
Quar1on marched across the branch, their feathers ruffled. “Well, you would have fixed that right up had you gotten any further! We would have both been racing to meet the stony ground below because of that empty skull of yours.”
“Can’t you fly?” Choir of Fire asked before the words came out of Sir Tawmis’ mouth.
“Fly? Fly? Sure! But a captain always goes down with the ship! And so an Aarakocra always goes down with the nest!” Quar1on proclaimed.
“That seems like a bad idea,” Sir Tawmis muttered.
“Well so does a captain going down with the ship, but you humans do it,” Quar1on shrugged their feathery arms all about. “What can I do for the human-brained lot of you?”
“Isn’t that supposed to be ‘bird-brained’,” HelloIml whispered, but then strummed his loud instrument and drew attention to himself.
“Let it go,” Choir of Fire whispered after the awkward silence passed.
“We’re on a quest to enter the Heart of the Maelstrom. Apparently a wizard lost his magical bag and has asked me – us – to help him find it and return it to him,” Sir Tawmis began.
“Ah,” Quar1on nodded. “Then the all-seeing Moon was right. The Moon saw you and saw your quest and bestowed knowledge to pass down to you. Understand, I am not aware of the meaning and can only pass the words, as best to my understanding from the Immortal Moon to you. The Moon told me – ‘Seek the one who bears all; who has the rage of the beast within. They speak not, but their companion no longer sleeps, for he has been awakened. They will provide you with the knowledge where to go next.”
“Where to go next? Why couldn’t the moon just tell us where to go next? Why do we need to find someone else to give us yet another clue?” Sir Tawmis began to rant, but then Choir of Fire stepped in front of him.
“Forgive him, he’s tired and cranky,” Choir of Fire apologized.
“The Moon told me he would be,” Quar1on seemed to somehow smile with his beak. “Good fortune on your quest.”
As they descended, it was the minotaur’s high pitched voice who piped up, “You know,” he said, gleefully. “I think I know who he means. The Moon’s clue was vague – but you know, we animals, we got to stick together. And there’s a Koala-folk I know who has an awakened Kangaroo. The only problem is,” the minotaur high pitch voice went to a low whisper.
The Ruh’shaw Forest – an elven term meaning ‘beware of fang and claw’ meaning bears. The story goes that the dense forest is populated with thousands of bears – bears that do not permit any humanoids to enter beneath the wooden canopy.
“Well,” Choir of Fire sighed, “IAmSposta is right. That is a problem. If our Koala friend is in there, there’s no way any of us are going in there and going to survive the bears in there. We’d be mauled once we got about three feet in. I can already feel the eyes of a thousand bears watching us from inside the density of those woods.”
“Leave that to me,” Sir Tawmis smirked.
“That’s been a bad idea with how you’ve interacted with others,” IAmSposta pointed out.
Sir Tawmis turned. “Remember your remark about animals sticking together?” Suddenly Sir Tawmis’ features began to change as he took on the form of a massive brown bear. “As it turns out,” his voice, deeper, garbled, as his bear tongue tried to compensate for the formation of words. “As it would turn out, I am a shifted – a werebear woman infected my grandfather, and now it’s been passed down.”
“I…” IAmSposta paused, “… did not see that coming.”
As Sir Tawmis made his way through the woods – the bears in the woods made no effort to hide that they were following; their massive paws crushing branches, snapping them as easily as they’d snap bones; occasionally growling from the shadows.
Sir Tawmis finally reached the center – where to his surprise, he saw Koala-Kin rolling around, crashing into everything. “Excuse me,” his voice was deep. “I see your leader.”
“BlackBear_,” one called out.
“Black Bear Underscore?” Sir Tawmis’ bear tongue wagged. “Is he a bard then? He’s done scores of music?”
“I am hardly a bard,” a towering Koala-kin stood, then tumbled out of the tree, as he reached for eucalyptus leaf. As the Koala-Kin stood up, a kangaroo hopped over to Sir Tawmis. The Kangaroo looked at BlackBear_ and growled, “Wat av i tol' ya about talkin' Bloody oath mate?” It turned its attention to Sir Tawmis in bear-form. “Ya ahah in the bloody presence of the bloody kin'. Wat business dya av?”
“We seek advice about entering the Heart of the Maelstrom,” Sir Tawmis tried to speak as clearly as he could, but he had a feeling he sounded something like the odd Kangaroo’s odd dialect.
“That is a foolish ideah.”
“We know,” Sir Tawmis confessed. “But we feel obligated.”
“Head down the bloody rivah until ya find the bloody one bawrn of dragons.” The Kangaroo pointed and BlackBear_ nodded in agreement, chewing on a eucalyptus joyfully – pointing to the left – then seeing the Kangaroo pointing to the right – changed, and he too pointed to the right.
“So deeper into the woods; Can I get my companions? I know normally humanoids are not permitted I these woods – but I will need their aid,” Sir Tawmis confessed, thankful to know that none of his companions would have heard his confession to needing help.
“Fine but make it quick. Fahraggin’ fair dinkum mate!” the Kangaroo growled – then oddly whistled. A moment later, Sir Tawmis’ companions were escorted into the center of the odd village.
“What’s happening? They all appeared out of the woods – and growled at us – circling us – then a burst of light and we were in the woods,” Choir of Fire explained.
“Oh, honey pot,” the minotaur chuckled, “it was just a summoning circle they made. We’re all good now. What’s next?”
“We need to find a Dragonborn by the river,” Sir Tawmis explained. “They will give us the next clue.”
Chapter Nine: The River of Sticks
The party moved through the Ruh’shaw Forest until they finally heard the sound of running water – then a voice calling out. “Kel! I loved you! Why have you forsaken me? I had to flee from the Black Lakes! The Maelstrom came! And everything changed.”
Sir Tawmis peaked through the brush and saw a topaz dragonborn. “You must be DrakenBrine?”
The topaz dragon who had been rolling around on the floor in sorrow, rocking back and forth as if they were trying to put out a fire on their now muddy cloak, sprang to their feet and muttered words of magic; a purple glow forming around their hands.
“This one is a warlock,” Wsyperra warned. “That purple magic energy is a warlock signature. Means they made a pact with a demon and it’s brimstone that powers their magical abilities.”
“How did you know my name? No one knows my name here! Not since the Maelstrom took away the island I called home!” the Topaz Dragonborn snapped.
“The Kangaroo,” Sir Tawmis called out.
“That blasted minotaur-muscled-rodent talks too much,” the Topaz Dragonborn hissed.
“Hey, I take offense to that,” IAmSposta’s high pitch called out from the shadows.
“Not now,” Sir Tawmis whispered. He turned and faced the Topaz Dragonborn whose hands were no longer glowing. “We will leave you to your wallowing,” Sir Tawmis shouted, “once we get some help. We were told you know something about the Heart of the Maelstrom.”
“You…” the topaz dragonborn seemed shocked. “You are going into the Heart of the Maelstrom?”
“We are,” Sir Tawmis nodded.
“Why would you do anything so foolish?” DrakenBrine asked.
“We’ve asked ourselves that for a few days now,” Sir Tawmis confessed. “Near as I can tell because there’s an odd impulse to do it.”
“I don’t know how to get you in,” the topaz dragon began.
“Let me guess, but you know someone else who does,” Sir Tawmis called out, heaving a deep sigh as he looked to Choir of Fire.
“Why do you keep doing that? I only have a few lines, and I am not even going with you! Let me get my own lines in without cutting me off! But yes! I know someone. A gnoll ranger named Kayaking Poodle. They are the protector of boats that travel the rivers. And they know how to traverse through the River of Sticks.”
“River of Styx?” IAmSposta called out, concerned.
“Yes,” the topaz dragonborn replied. “Was I not clear enough in how I pronounced it? You know like branches that fall off from trees. Sticks. S-T-I-C-K-S.”
“Not S-T-Y-X?” IAmSposta asked.
“Who would spell ‘sticks’ like that? Weird people who spell their names weird?” the topaz dragonborn seemed genuinely confused.
“I don’t know if I feel comfortable with this,” IAmSposta whispered. “Whether they really mean ‘sticks’ or they just don’t know they mean ‘Styx.’”
“If you go to the Heart of the Maelstrom and put an end to it, I will be able to return to Kel,” the topaz dragonborn seemed elated.
“Who is Kel? If she was on one of the islands when the Maelstrom appeared,” IAmSposta called out, having lived on one of those islands and only escaping thanks to the unicorn headed genie that saved him and his people.
“Oh no! She wasn’t on the island. She’s a corrupted Kelpie – you know the seaweed people. I got all tangled up one night swimming – and it turns out I was tangled up in her. It was like a real life metaphor. Being tangled in her love.”
The topaz dragonborn led them to the gnoll, who had a raft pulled on the shore – and explained the mission. The raft, seemingly adjusted magically, to grow in size to allow for the party. The gnoll looked at everyone. “I must warn you. When we go through the River of Sticks,” the gnoll began.
“There it is again,” IAmSposta muttered.
“The roots of the land from which the Maelstrom has torn apart, will reach out like the hands of the undead and seek to pull you off the raft and into the water,” the gnoll explained.
“Seriously, this sounds like the River of Styx,” whimpered, his massive, muscular body shivering as if he were deep in snow.
“Once you enter the Maelstrom, be aware of two things. The first will be the Nothic. It can peer into the minds of people… and pull out … jokes that would make you laugh. Do not laugh. It is critical you do not laugh at the Nothic’s jokes. To do so would allow it to pull you into the Plane of Jesters.”
“Gestures? Like movements?” IAmSposta asked, so worried about this ‘River of Sticks.’
“Are you tone deaf? I said Jesters. Like the people who wear funny clothes and tell bad jokes?” the gnoll sighed.
“What’s the second thing,” HelloIml asked.
“The second is the summoned darkness that makes up the Maelstrom,” Kayaking Poodle warned. “A sorcerer tried to stop the Maelstrom from taking the island – and tried to pull its magical energies into himself… however, what happened is that the Maelstrom was more powerful – and he turned this sorcerer, whose name has now long been forgotten, into a shadowy mist known as The Summoning Dark.”
The gnoll began rowing down the river. “In order to recover the magic bag, you will need to free him from the shadow.”
“Wait,” Sir Tawmis looked at Kayaking Poodle. “How do you know about the magic bag? We hadn’t mentioned it.”
“Destiny,” the gnoll replied, cryptically. “Destiny told me your mission.”
The gnoll miraculously maneuvered the raft away from the grappling roots, whose fringes, moved like eager finger tips of children, trying to grasp candy. As the raft came to a sudden halt on the sole island in which the Maelstrom wrapped itself around, the eerie voice from somewhere beyond called out.
“I am Nothic 2 See Here 2,” it said.
“Don’t you mean ‘Nothing to see here too’,” Choir of Fire asked.
“You won’t confuse me,” the voice retorted.
“No,” Sir Tawmis nodded. “She’s right. The saying is ‘Nothing to see here’,” he shrugged. “And if you’re indicating a response, it’d be ‘Nothing to see here, too.’ If you were doing an Investigation check, for example.”
“Hold on,” the voice asked. “Have I been saying this saying wrong my whole life then?”
“Afraid so,” Sir Tawmis shrugged, looking around him, uncertain where the voice was coming from. “In an Investigation, details matter. Or so I recently heard.”
“Well, can I still tell you some of my jokes?” the voice asked, somewhat pleading, clearly devastated it’d named itself incorrectly.
“Sure,” Choir of Fire called out.
“Remember don’t laugh though,” IAmSposta warned – his soft whisper as gentle as rolling thunder.
“Any Paladins in the group?” the voice asked.
“Just tell the joke,” Sir Tawmis called out.
“Why do Paladins prefer chainmail? Because it’s HOLEY armor! Get it? Like HOLY? But HOLEY? Any clerics? You know why adventurers love clerics? Because they’re the life of every party! Get it! Because they heal? Did you hear about the death clerics who worship a milk god? Apparently they can churn undead! Get it? Like TURN undead? But churn? You know, churning butter!? This is a tough crowd! Well, speaking of undead, you know why there are no undead bards? Because they can’t compose music, they can only decompose!” the voice laughed to itself. “OK! Here’s some more! What’s a mountain peak guarded by rogues called? A sneak peak! What do you call an entire party of rogues? A surprise party! Why do Rogues use leather armor? Because it’s made of HIDE!” The voice again chuckled. “Oh, another bard joke – what do you call a group of bard in plate mail? HEAVY METAL!” The voice now sounded frustrated. “OK, final joke – you don’t laugh – you can see the Summoning Dark. What do you call a halfling fortune-teller who escaped from prison? ... A small medium at large!”
Not a sound of laughter.
Suddenly a doorway opened, and beyond it, swirling darkness.
“You may pass into the Maelstrom,” the voice called out, frustrated.
“I don’t understand what happened,” Sir Tawmis took a deep breath. “I was laughing at a lot of those jokes.”
“I thought some of us might be, so just as we stepped on the land, I cast Silence on myself and made sure I stayed in the center of the group. The sound of our laughter never left the sphere. Because several us were laughing quite a bit,” Choir of Fire smirked.
As the party entered the swirling darkness, Sir Tawmis called out, “Wsyperra, we need your light.”
“I am trying,” Wsyperra called out, “but the darkness is stronger.”
“Why have you come,” a voice boomed all around them. This was the man who had now become The Summoning Dark – his face spread across the darkness.
“We have come to recover a magical bag that apparently ended up here” Sir Tawmis shouted.
“Then you seek Mealladh,” the voice growled. “Do you wish an audience with the green hag? I assure you it would be your last. I will give you once chance to depart.”
“We can’t,” Sir Tawmis said, firmly. “If it is a green hag we must face, then we shall.”
HelloIml looked at the others. “That’s the name of the hag that cut me in half.”
“Indeed,” the Summoning Dark laughed. “And now you must face yourself.”
In a blink of the eye, the party was somewhere new – the feywild – and dark magical energy was being channeled into a cabin in the woods – like smoke from a chimney going in reverse. Just as the party rushed forward – they were greeted by a thundering boom as a massive spiked club barely missed them. “I crush’em and eats’em I wills!” They stared up at a towering Ettin that looked exactly like HelloIml might – if he was distorted by pure evil.
However, the Ettin was surprised as he watched his only remaining head remove itself from his body – as HelloIml stood behind the Ettin, holding a metallic string from his instrument that he used to sever the Ettin’s head. HelloIml stared at his hands – then at the others who looked on – shocked. “I… I am sorry,” he said, “I saw myself – a purification of evil and could not stand what I saw. I cannot believe that was the other half of me.”
“It never was,” Choir of Fire said, comforting her friend. “You had your own mind. You shared a body. But your mind was your own. You’re free of the darkness.”
“And that is what this is about,” the Summoning Dark’s voice called out, “that we can all be free of the darkness.”
The party kicked down the door of the wooden cabin of the hag – and saw she was drawing the power into a red and green bag – the bag of holding. “I will draw from this power when I need to!” she laughed as she stared at the party. “So much power contained inside! You have no hope of stopping me.” With a wave of her hand – everyone was suddenly pinned to the wall. “Look at you all. Ornaments for me to break and shatter on the ground.”
“All save for one, hag,” a familiar woman’s voice, to Sir Tawmis, snapped – and suddenly the earth rumbled and the hag, unable to maintain her balance, stumbled backwards into the very bag she’d been channeling all of the Maelstrom’s energy into! The party collapsed to the ground and Sir Tawmis looked up, “AEDorsay! Where in Hades have you been? You were supposed to meet me in Joureja!”
She laughed. “You know the saying – a wizard is never late. She arrives precisely when she means to.” She looked at the phylactery on the counter and shattered it. The Summoning Dark – suddenly a mortal – appeared in the hag’s cabin. “I am finally free.”
“Your soul is yours again,” another familiar voice said. Sir Tawmis looked. It was the plump wizard, adorned in his unusual red and white attire. “You may not recall your name, but you can begin anew. Make a new life for yourself.”
“And you,” he looked at Choir of Fire. “Your redemption is the truth revealed. You never burned down that church. That blasted Arch-Devil made you believe so – so distraught with guilt after you learned of the gifts – it allowed him to shape your body into that Tiefling form. Look here, look in the mirror and see the true you.”
Before everyone’s eyes, Choir of Fire’s body was restored to the very body they’d always desired.
The odd wizard named Nikalos picked up his bag and peered inside. “Oh, I see I have a visitor in there. Well, that’s where she will remain until she finds her Gift of Giving Spirit again. Now, with the Maelstrom destroyed – the world is, for now, free of the darkness. And now, the Celebration of Giving can proceed.”
The party stared at one another, and then embraced tightly.
Ordinance of Great Liberty war – That should be obvious what that references.
Chapter One: The Devil Went Down To Joureja. – The title is a reference, obviously, to “The Devil Went Down to Georgia” since Choir of Fire was a Tiefling Bard. It seemed a fitting title. So I named the town a “spelling” of the word “Georgia” into “Joureja” (which has a fantasy spelling … but if you pronounce it, it’s clearly just “Georgia”)
The bag of holding for gifts, was something I used in my own game during Christmas events.
Choir’s song lyrics are a reference to the “origin” the character was given
Chapter Two: Rock Band – A fitting title, since one of the characters was portrayed as a “Stone Giant” look alike bard… So stone… rock… and then the electric guitar. When I thought of the title, I was thinking of the game “Rock Band” which, as someone who loves Heavy Metal, spent a lot of time playing.
Mealladh was the name of the villain from the original story I wrote when I did this, so I thought it’d be fun to bring that back and do a nod to that story. I also went with Green Hag because of the Grinch – and she stole the bag full of gifts.
I made another nod to the original story when Sir Tawmis talks about having a dream about a Satyr who referred to non-fey as “mortals.”
Chapter Three: Wizardry – Introducing a wizard next, the title references one of my favorite CRPGs – Wizardry. And ironically, since I didn’t plan ANY of this and was just seeing where each chapter took me – one of the Wizardry games is called “Heart of the Maelstrom” which became the center point of the story. Again, was just fun writing this, each chapter, and seeing where it went and how it developed without planning.
The goblin hole, if it’s not obvious – is a reference to the opening line of The Hobbit, but opposite of what a Hobbit hole is like
Fry Doodles obsession with ‘roleplay’ is because their posts in the thread have often mentioned/asked about RPing
Chapter Four: The Bull Headed Warlock – As simple as foreshadowing a Minotaur Warlock…
I love puns – if you can’t tell and play on words – so things like “Mane Street” and “Plane of Jesters/Gestures” are things I gravitate towards when I write silly things
I loved seeing where my brain went with IAmSposta’s OVER THE TOP character – and loved the lore I created why there’s gold at the end of rainbows sometimes
Chapter Five: Human Clay – Follow me on this one. This one introduces the Rogue Assassin gnome. So for the chapter title I focused on Assassin since that was the main trait. Which made me think of Assassin’s Creed. Which then made me think of the band Creed. Then made me think of their album Human Clay – and how an assassin just kills people and destroys them like human clay things!
The “The group had traveled for three hours and twenty eight minutes” is because the thread is on page (or was at the time of the writing) 197 pages. 197 pages – if each was a minute – equals a hair over three hours and 28 minutes. So that’s what the reference is to.
Chapter Six: Come On Baby, Light My Fire – Originally written as a Will-O-Wisp, I came up with another idea – that focused on light – and so that made me think of the song for which I used for the title of the chapter
Chapter Seven: Lunar Sea. – This is a play on words since they were going to meet a Lunar Sorcerer – I thought of “lunacy” as in crazy – then thought, “Oh, Lunar Sea. It sounds like Lunacy”… And now I have lore for a Lunar Sea…
Did some 4 wall breaking, where the characters are beginning to feel like they’re in a story…
The name “Kamiori” – means “folding paper” according to google translate (combining the translation into one word)
Chapter Eight: Animal Kingdom – Like the show. This was a fun chapter, because in the intro, I set up the fact that my character was designated as a shifter, and I picked bear. (Because people say I look tough, but I am as gentle as a cuddle bear… Hrmph!) And then the Koala-Kin thing… and only animals could go in – it dawned on me, “Oh, cool chance to show the shifter thing.” Again, none of this was prepped and I was just writing to see what happened! And I loved some of the things that clicked into place.
I treated the Koala bears like Panda bears, because of the Koala bears at the zoo were often just as careless… just not as funny as pandas tend to be.
Chapter Nine: The River of Sticks – This was a fun chapter title that I made up because I knew the next two characters were about bodies of water to some degree. So I had “River”… then thought, “Oh, the overchurned land, would have roots that were alive… like sticks… oh, River of Sticks.” More word play.
DrakenBrine complaining about a lack of lines is a reference to the original story
Chapter Ten: Hello Darkness My Old Friend. – Knowing I’d be introducing The Summoning Dark here, I easily went with this title from the lyric of a very famous song, that you young kids better know! LOL
The "In an investigation, details matter" is a reference to one of my new favorite shows on Amazon Prime - Reacher
The hag’s line about shattering the characters like ornaments is a reference to her “green” hag being the Grinch
AEDorsay showing up at the end is because she was a part of the opening and setting her up in chapter one that Sir Tawmis was in the town to meet her… just so…
AEDorsay could deliver the line about a wizard never being late, which is another reference to The Hobbit (can you guess my favorite book in the world?)
I'm too lazy to insert a GIF but dang, that was good. despite being a gen Z, I got the "hello darkness my old friend" reference immediately and loved it. I love their music.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Hey, It's me, RaccoonMaster! I'm back! I disappeared for a while there, and I'm very sporadic when I'm online lol.
I'm an actor, writer, singer (opera, musical theatre, and rock are my preferred genres), backpacker, and tall person (6'5 and counting). Pronouns are whatever, I mostly use They/Them though.
My Characters: Elsenia Selevarum:The Popular Paladin, Aasimar Noble, Level 4 Paladin of Redemption;
I'm too lazy to insert a GIF but dang, that was good. despite being a gen Z, I got the "hello darkness my old friend" reference immediately and loved it. I love their music.
It's all right. I will take comments or gifs. (Comments are easier to reply to because there's some context).
I have always loved doing this kind of "spur of the moment writing." I (was) on an ElfQuest forum where every month folks would recommend three random story elements (such as: winter, dagger, tragic moment, etc.) - and the challenge is you'd write a story that fits all those elements into a single story. Well, I had taken it one step further - my story was on going, so from month to month, each of the segments connected to make an ongoing story, just to pull that off.
I used to do something similar for a game called Legend of Grimrock. The game starts with four characters thrown into a mountain prison and you never find out why. So I wrote a backstory for the characters. Then kept doing it. At work, when I'd go on break - I'd see how much I could write in 15 minutes and keep the story going. I did something similar for Dragon Age: Origins. Created a story that branched off from Origins - with my own cast of characters, and on lunch or break, just sit down and write, with no plans what so ever to see where the story goes.
So I had no intention of writing a story segment for the latest suggested characters - but everyone was posting "Merry Christmas" in this thread and I thought, "OK - fun Christmas present that's free - I do write a story and tie it all to Christmas." And so I sat down - and I think, in total, it probably took me about an hour a half (between googling horrible D&D jokes and googling horrible Australian translators) - and being forced to take a break to do things with the family.
But I immensely enjoyed doing it.
For anyone who missed the new story on the previous page...
I am quite sure that I am not a Goblin -- it says Wood Elf, I even double checked, and I am certainly not going to be filthy.
However, a pleasant and fortuitous celebration to all does appear to be in order, and thus, I will so will it.
Only a DM since 1980 (3000+ Sessions) / PhD, MS, MA / Mixed, Bi, Trans, Woman / No longer welcome in the US, apparently
Wyrlde: Adventures in the Seven Cities
.-=] Lore Book | Patreon | Wyrlde YT [=-.
An original Setting for 5e, a whole solar system of adventure. Ongoing updates, exclusies, more.
Not Talking About It / Dubbed The Oracle in the Cult of Mythology Nerds
I’ll accept “filthy goblin”. While it’s not technically accurate to my species, it’s certainly close enough. Happy Holidays!
Terra Lubridia archive:
The Bloody Barnacle | The Gut | The Athene Crusader | The Jewel of Atlantis
Oh, hey! I wanted to say that I got both of the Heroes' Feast books this Christmas, and I wanted to ask what you think I should prepare first since you're the resident cooking expert. I've read your posts, and you seem to be really knowledgeable and passionate about the subject and the books themselves.
I love cooking, but I've found that I'm more of an eating expert, unfortunately.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
The filthy part makes sense but I'm not much of a goblin IRL.
BoringBard's long and tedious posts somehow manage to enrapture audiences. How? Because he used Charm Person, the #1 bard spell!
He/him pronouns. Call me Bard. PROUD NERD!
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HERE.Thanks! I’ll take it lol.
I really like D&D, especially Ravenloft, Exandria and the Upside Down from Stranger Things. My pronouns are she/they (genderfae).
Just FYI this is a reference to Home Alone 2. I think you all are very hygienic goblins!
Hmm.
For simple but filling and fairly fast, Tavern Noodles from Flavors is good -- you can sub the eggs for any kind of veggie or meat.
I just made the Beluir Salmon from Flavors a couple nights ago, and it was pretty snacky but took a bit more prep time. Still, I did have folks drooling in the zoom, lol.
The Hommlet Turkey from Feast is pretty filling (basically an open faced turkey sammich)
Now, if you are talking something that has more heft, is a bit more traditional, well, the Hand Pies from Feast would be it.
If you can get some "chopped" beef, or beef in small slivers or bits, use that instead of hamburger and adjust cooking accordingly for a richer bit.
And if you want flaky instead of crusty for them, well, then be very careful but use phyllo dough instead of pie crust dough. Phyllo is super yummy, but is also very thin and less durable, so you have to handle it more delicately than pie crust dough. Do not use the "flaky biscuits" dough.
You could also use that "pizza dough" in a tube if you want a more strong crust than the pie dough.
Only a DM since 1980 (3000+ Sessions) / PhD, MS, MA / Mixed, Bi, Trans, Woman / No longer welcome in the US, apparently
Wyrlde: Adventures in the Seven Cities
.-=] Lore Book | Patreon | Wyrlde YT [=-.
An original Setting for 5e, a whole solar system of adventure. Ongoing updates, exclusies, more.
Not Talking About It / Dubbed The Oracle in the Cult of Mythology Nerds
Wow! Thank you for this!
I'm thinking of going with the noodles and then the hand pies. Not today though, as we have plenty of leftovers from our Christmas and Christmas Eve dinners, and I hate wasting food.
Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.
Awake, impure, divine
Breathgiver of the Strugels
All right - here we go! Thumbs up the segments of the stories you enjoy! This was a fun "Merry Christmas" surprise to sit down and write (though, it's now officially 2am, so the day after Christmas)... probably gonna have to post segmented chapters because of forum limitations... would love to hear your thoughts... as always, this was written with comedy in mind (and hopefully that's very, very, very clear!) - so hopefully no one is offended with how their character in the story was handled...
The cast, per Formerly AllMightDMwhateverNowSpiderTrapper...
Check out my publication on DMs Guild: https://www.dmsguild.com/browse.php?author=Tawmis%20Logue
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===
She was elegant, beautiful, and well educated – which was normal for many of the Wood Elves, who took their education and understanding of the world serious. Gifted with time and a longer life, their minds were full of wisdom and intellect that the human mind rarely had time to grasp.
The man sitting across from her, an old, grizzled, graybeard veteran of the Ordinance of Great Liberty war – he sat across from her, his armor, sword, and shield as beaten up and devoid of their original colors, much like his beard.
“Will you not entertain us with one of your stories, Sir Tawmis?” AEDorsay, the wood elf, asked of the veteran human sitting across from. Her lips were formed into a mischievous grin. Sir Tawmis looked up and huffed aloud.
“I am telling you, Wood Elf,” he muttered, “they’re not stories. They’re real accounts of what happened during the OGL War.”
“Yes, of course,” her tone was like a mother comforting a young child. “Why not tell us the one about the man who lost his bag?”
Sir Tawmis peered up. “You were there, AEDorsay – you know that was no normal man.”
“But then,” AEDorsay smiled, “nor are you. You blood has ancient magic that flows through it. I’ve seen it. It allows you to channel and become bear-like. But you’re no Druid or Ranger.”
“I am a Shifter,” Sir Tawmis growls. “Long ago, my grand grandfather was wounded badly during a battle. He stumbled, dying and collapsed in a cave. A woman in the cave, exiled from her village, tried to save him – but he was dying from his wounds. She knew of one way to save him – infect him with the same curse that had gotten her exiled – Lycanthropy. The change boosted his system and allowed his wounds to mend much quicker. But that also meant there was a chance; any children that descended from him would be born with the curse upon them.”
“Yes,” she nodded again, her tone like a mother speaking to her child. “But go on, the story about the man who lost his bag. There were some of the people I hadn’t met before you and I met to track him down. I’d love to hear it again.”
Sir Tawmis heaved a deep sigh. Is this what his life had become? He was once a great fighter in the Ordinance of Great Liberty war. “You know, we should just hire a bard to hear my story, so that they can expand on it and embellish it like they always tend to do.”
“Well you met a bard on this mission, did you not?” AEDorsay asked, smiling. She knew the answer. But she loved his reaction.
“A bard? How about two of them?” Sir Tawmis shook his head, as if trying to clear the memory from his skull.
“Why not hire them?” she asked, chuckling to herself.
“Hire them? Why they were the two most outlandish bards I’d ever seen!” Sir Tawmis puffed. “Complete opposites! One a tiny fairy and the other a towering goliath.”
“So the man with the missing bag,” AEDorsay urged.
“Fine…” Sir Tawmis sat back in his chair.
Chapter One: The Devil Went Down To Joureja.
Fleck of snow drifted from the heaven, descending in spiraling patterns, like fragile wizards who had cast feather falling from some high mountain top. Sir Tawmis plunged through the increasingly deeper snow when suddenly a man who wasn’t there before stood in front of him. The man, dressed in odd red and white attire, wearing what appeared to be a red wizard’s hat, with white fur trim at the base and a small, white ball of fur on the tip. Sir Tawmis looked up; the man was rather large for a wizard. “Pardon me, wizard.”
“I need your help,” the ‘wizard’ said. Though he was asking for help, his voice was somehow still, oddly jolly in nature.
“Sorry, wizard,” Sir Tawmis grunted, “just trying to find the tavern in this town before I freeze out here. I am actually here to meet a wizard friend of my own. A,” he looked the oddly dressed wizard up and down, “wood elf. I’ve got no time for helping magical wizards find their magical things.”
“That’s just it,” the ‘wizard’ said. “I have indeed lost something rather magical. A bag.”
“A bag?” Sir Tawmis looked up at the ‘wizard’ – then looked around. “If you’ve dropped a bag, you’re going to have to probably wait until the snow disappears.”
“I didn’t drop it,” the ‘wizard’ replied. “I believe someone took it.”
“I don’t know much about this town,” Sir Tawmis shrugged, “but there’s a good chance there’s a Thieves Guild just like there is in every town – no matter how big or small.”
“If you won’t help me find it, will you just keep an eye out for it? It’s very unique,” the ‘wizard’ assured Sir Tawmis. “Green and Red colored. Hard to miss.”
Sir Tawmis looked at the ‘wizard’ – who also was quite hard to miss, yet Sir Tawmis had nearly collided into the ‘wizard’ who seemingly appeared out of nowhere. “If I find this ‘bag’ of yours, wizard. How will I find you?”
“Call out for ‘Nikalos’ and I will hear you,” the wizard assured him.
“Deal, Nikalos,” Sir Tawmis said, but when he looked the wizard was nowhere to be found. How could a wizard dressed like that simply appear and disappear so quietly? Magic. Blasted magic. Sir Tawmis as a fighter was not one to understand the complexity of magic and so, in his heart and mind, he did not trust those who used it.
“Welcome to the North Pole Inn and Tavern,” a human who later introduced himself as Enpesea, “finest tavern in all of Joureja.” Joureja was the name of this small town, and by the looks of it, this was the only Inn and Tavern in Joureja – thus making Enpesea’s statement correct.
Just as Sir Tawmis entered, music played, as if the veteran fighter had some form of entrance music. The source of the music came from a Tiefling Bard standing center stage. They were introduced by Enpesea as “Choir of Fire” – a suitable name for a Tiefling Bard. Choir for the music, fire for their hellish origin.
“And though, I once worshipped the sun god,
The burning sphere high in the sky
From the flames below, I was called
And I needed to know why.
A devil exposed the Church for its lies
All the angels were deception from the skies
And so with the devil’s sound
I did burn the Sun God’s church to the ground.”
After their performance, Sir Tawmis approached Choir Of Fire. “So, an arch-devil called out to you?”
Choir of Fire took a deep swig of their drink. “That’s the story. Wasn’t always like this.” They gestured to themselves. “A tiefling, I mean. Once I burned the church, I was reborn in flame and brimstone. Turns out, it was the arch-devil who planted those lies. Shocking, right? A devil lied. Apparently the Arch-Devil was envious of the sun god’s flame.” Choir of Fire laughed. “You know, it was the weirdest thing. As the church had been burning a very unusual wizard approached me. Said that the church had gifts for children in need. Talk about making me feel worse. Said my day of redemption would come one day. I don’t know what he meant. Certainly nothing’s happened and it’s been years.”
“This wizard,” Sir Tawmis moaned, “was he wearing red and white? Kind of a girthy gentleman?”
Choir of Fire laughed, “That’s accurate. Big, white, beard?” She saw Sir Tawmis’ expression. “I take it you know him too?”
“Just met him outside about thirty minutes ago,” Sir Tawmis muttered. “He lost his bag. Some special red and green bag. Asked me to help find it. But then disappeared. Thinks someone took it.”
“Perhaps this is my redemption arc,” Choice of Fire laughed. “Mind if I go with you searching for this mysterious bag?”
Sir Tawmis nodded. “Sure. Would love the company. Good to know I am not crazy and the odd wizard was seen by someone else. That’s at least comforting.”
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Chapter Two: Rock Band
“Let me introduce you to the rest of the band,” Choir of Fire said.
“Wait, it’s not just you?” Sir Tawmis asked.
“Oh no,” Choir of Fire shook their head. “I am part of a band.” She gestured to a towering eight foot Goliath, that – until she introduced him – Sir Tawmis had thought he was some sort of statue decoration. His skin was grey in color, the tones and shadows, almost mimicking that of actual stone. “This is HelloIml,” Choir of Fire explained. “You’d think he’s of Stone Giant descent, but he’s not? He hardly speaks. HelloIml, want to tell the old man?”
The large goliath’s voice rumbled like thunder high in the mountains, reverberating off walls of stone. “Name’s HelloIml. I used to be an Ettin.”
“The two headed giant-things?” Sir Tawmis examined HelloIml closely – he bore no scar of a severed head.
“Yes,” HelloIml replied. “However, my other half was violent and cruel, while, I myself simply wanted to play instruments and sing. A green hag by the name of Mealladh found us – and said she had no use for me – and somehow cast me out of the Ettin body so that I became my own being – as this Stone Goliath – while my … other half, remained an Ettin, but now consumed by his violent urges. The hag took him and disappeared.”
“And this,” Choir of Fire again gestured towards HelloIml, “is The Friendly Archey.”
Sir Tawmis stared at the goliath then back to Choir of Fire. Suddenly, flying out of the goliath’s grey hair was a small fairy. “Name’s the Friendly Archey,” the tiny fairy felt the need to reintroduce itself. “If you’re curious, ‘Mealladh’ is a fey word for ‘gritch’ or I think you mortals call it ‘grouch.’”
“They’re not really in the band,” Choir of Fire whispered gesturing towards the overly excited fairy, “They’re more like our promoter. Because shutting them up is nearly impossible and they insist on dramatic entrances and speaking to everyone. They keep calling us ‘mortal’ too.”
“Huh,” Sir Tawmis thought. “I had a dream once where I knew a Satyr, who was also a bard, from the fey realm, that insisted on calling people not of the fey realm as ‘mortals.’” Sir Tawmis looked at HelloIml and saw what appeared to be a backpack made of a sturdy substance. “May I ask what that is?”
“That?” the goliath smiled. “It’s an amplifier. It’s plugged into the Earth plane.”
“You mean the Plane of Earth,” Sir Tawmis figured, which would make sense for the odd, looking ‘stone’ goliath.
“No, the Earth plane,” the HelloIml explained. “Apparently there’s a plane out there called ‘Earth’ and this box that The Friendly Archey got me connects to that plane and draws elasticity from there.”
“The word you’re looking for, big guy,” The Friendly Archey explained, “is electricity.”
“Yes, that,” the stone goliath nodded. He then strummed his unusual instrument and a sound like no other poured out of the device on his back. “This is an elasticity guitar.”
“Electric,” the tiny fairy sighed. “I’ve heard of a very powerful wizard in town,” the fairy added, “who may be able to aid us on our epic quest.”
“This is hardly an epic quest,” Sir Tawmis muttered. “We’re just looking for a damn wizard’s magical red and green bag.”
Chapter Three: Wizardry
This ‘wizard’ the fairy knew – did not live in the small village. He lived just outside, along the farmland. However, this ‘wizard’ wasn’t a farmer. No. It was a goblin who lived – literally – in the hillside. In a hole in the ground there lived a goblin. It was a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it a was a goblin-hole, and that means filth.
“Hey! Hey!” the overly excited goblin welcomed the new guests as they stepped into his hole. Each of them was greeted by the sound of their feet slushing through mud. “Who wants to do some roleplay, huh?”
“We’re actually here seeking your help,” Sir Tawmis explained. “I,” he looked at the fairy positioned on HelloIml’s head, “understand that you’re a powerful wizard.”
“Indeed! Indeed! Quite powerful! Very, very, powerful. The most powerful. But. Roleplay first?” the goblin asked again, pleading eyes gazing upward.
“Maybe some other time, if you could help us locate a lost bag, that would be of tremendous help,” Choir of Fire cut in, seeing that Sir Tawmis was ready to walk out of the goblin’s abode.
“Ah, fine, fine! But roleplay after I cast the spell?” the goblin then asked.
“Perhaps,” Choir of Fire replied, entertaining the goblin with no intention of fulfilling the idea.
“Excellent! Excellent!” The goblin known as Fry Doodles threw down several pieces of paper.
“Your spell parchments are blank,” Sir Tawmis pointed out.
“Blank until I begin drawing on them! Locate Object is a second level spell. This will take me a moment! Describe the item you need to find!” the goblin said.
“Red and green bag,” Sir Tawmis answered plainly.
“I must draw the bag on my parchments, envision it in my mind,” the goblin began. Sixteen minutes into it, the goblin was drawing red and green swirls all over his parchment.
“How long is thing going to take?” Sir Tawmis asked.
Suddenly Fry Doodles threw the papers into the air. “So impatient! I tried to be patient this time! I tried! But no! You! You did it this time!”
As the papers swirled downward, he looked. “The answer is there!”
“Where?” Sir Tawmis watched the papers flutter to the floor.
“The way they swirled… like a maelstrom,” the goblin awed then looked at the two red circles overlaid in front of him – shaped like a heart. “You must go to… The Heart of the Maelstrom.”
“The Heart of the Maelstrom,” Sir Tawmis sighed. “Our in the Black Lakes? That one?”
“Yes,” the goblin nodded, confident he’d read the spell signs correctly.
“Someone stole this wizard’s bag and went there,” Sir Tawmis persisted. “To one of the most dangerous areas in this world?” Sir Tawmis shook his head. “The goblin is daft. Let’s get out of here.”
“Roleplay now?” Fry Doodles cried out as the door shut behind Sir Tawmis, Choir of Fire, The Friendly Archey and HelloIml.
Check out my publication on DMs Guild: https://www.dmsguild.com/browse.php?author=Tawmis%20Logue
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Chapter Four: The Bull Headed Warlock
“OK,” The Friendly Archey replied, “that didn’t go as well as we’d hoped. But there’s another magic user I have heard of that’s around here. And he lives back in the town.”
“It better not be another goblin,” Sir Tawmis muttered.
“No, this one lives on M-A-N-E street,” the fairy chuckled.
“I think you mean M-A-I-N,” Sir Tawmis corrected.
“No, I meant what I said, it’s Mane Street,” the fairy asserted.
“Right, MAIN – as in M-A-I-N,” Sir Tawmis replied, more firmly. However, upon reaching the street sign, it did indeed read “Mane Street.”
“Is everyone in this town an idiot?” Sir Tawmis questioned.
“You’re in this town too,” the fairy giggled.
Sir Tawmis turned to Choir of Fire, “I see why the fairy isn’t in the band.”
After a loud knock at the door – the towering figure that swung open the door made it clear why it was perhaps called ‘Mane Street.’ An eight foot, towering Minotaur stood in the doorway, rippling muscles that moved like gentle waves, lapping in a lake. However, when he spoke, his voice was higher pitched than the fairy’s, “Hello, hello! Come in! Come in! So good to see you T-F-A!”
“Come, come, sit down, sit down,” the massive minotaur with a voice that sounded like it was coming out of a bard’s flute gestured to large, colorful chairs. Immediately, all around, Sir Tawmis took notice to all the rainbows and unicorns. “Interesting paintings,” Sir Tawmis remarked, mostly beneath his breath.
Apparently the minotaur had excellent hearing. “Oh, aren’t they? It’s true what they say, you know! The flatulence of a unicorn does indeed create rainbows! That’s why you can always find leprechauns at the end of these super, fabulous, magical rainbows! Because they fall off the unicorns they’re riding around in the fey realm. Has nothing to do with the legend of gold. Well,” the minotaur paused and giggled, “I suppose that’s not entirely true. The feces of unicorns come out looking like golden versions of horse manure! So I suppose there is some truth to the rumor about gold at the end of a rainbow if that unicorn also dookeied after it tooted.”
“What… what am I even hearing right now,” Sir Tawmis shook his head, certain that he was rapidly losing his grip on reality. The towering, muscular minotaur that looked as if it could snap a tree in half effortlessly, seemed to be as deadly as a blade of grass.
“So you might be wondering why me, this big, burly minotaur has all these cutesy unicorn and rainbow paintings,” the minotaur asked. “Well, I can tell you! My name is IAmSposta, and my people and I were whisked away by a unicorn headed genie, who said we were in great danger. So he made this magical rainbow that we all crossed into another plane and we watched as the Heart of the Maelstrom destroyed out home in the center of the Black Lakes.”
The Heart of the Maelstrom.
Sir Tawmis looked at the fairy, scolding. This was some odd plan to venture into the Heart of the Maelstrom. “Fairy if you have planned this,” Sir Tawmis warned.
“I didn’t!” the fairy protested, raising its hands into the air.
“Are you all planning on going to the Black Lakes? Into the Heart of the Maelstrom? If so, I’d love to go! I do love adventure,” the minotaur clapped his hands together, excitedly. Then suddenly he looked downcast. “But who will water my plants? Take care of my things?”
“I will,” the fairy, The Friendly Archey volunteered. “We’re good friends. I can do it. Besides, venturing to the Heart of the Maelstrom is a horrible idea.”
“Oh, goodie!” the minotaur quickly rushed back into his bedroom and was back out in a moment, wearing an outfit that was a collision of colors – representing all the colors of the rainbow.
“So much for stealth,” Sir Tawmis muttered.
Chapter Five: Human Clay
“Speaking of stealth,” the newly joined minotaur said, closing his door behind him, once he was sure the fairy knew where everything was. “I happen to know someone really good at stealth.”
“They’re not a goblin, right,” Sir Tawmis asked.
“Goblin! Heavens, no! Those goblins live in filthy wet holes!” The minotaur shuddered at the thought of getting his colorful clothes dirty – how would they ever see the rainbow colors of his unicorn headed genie patron? “No! This is a forest gnome. He lives in the forest.”
“I could have guessed the second part of that,” Sir Tawmis sighed. “Which forest? This world has many forests.”
“Well, if we’re headed for the Heart of the Maelstrom, it’s along the way,” IAmSposta said, shining his horns and putting on small colorful caps on his horns. “He lives in Garden Gnome.”
“The forest … this forest gnome lives in… is called… Garden Gnome?” Sir Tawmis heaved a deep sigh.
“Yes,” the minotaur said, shocked that it seemed so odd. “It’s literally a large garden of the gods, full of forest gnomes. So it’s called Garden Gnome.”
“Of course it is,” Sir Tawmis nodded.
Choir of Fire chuckled. “It could be worse. We could have the goblin and the fairy with us.”
“Don’t remind me,” Sir Tawmis sighed.
The group had traveled for three hours and twenty eight minutes, when a large forest came into view. “Garden Gnome,” the minotaur said, making a wide gesture with his arms, as if announcing the opening to a play. The party reached the edge of the forest and saw all along the floor and trees were signs that read, “Gnome Sweet Gnome.”
“See,” the minotaur gestured. “Kind gnomes.”
“No,” Choir of Fire explained, before Sir Tawmis could. “That’s a human tradition of putting floor mats in front of doors that read, ‘Home Sweet Home.’”
“Seems rather odd to make a home out of sugar,” the minotaur shrugged. “But I’ve heard stories about Wereboars who made houses out of straw, sticks and bricks, because a werewolf was chasing them.”
Sir Tawmis opened his mouth to say something, and then thought better of it. “Can we just go find this gnome friend of yours?”
“I’ve already found you,” Sir Tawmis looked down to see a gnome, lying on the floor, between his legs, his dagger positioned just under Sir Tawmis’ gentiles.
“Well,” Sir Tawmis said, stepping away. “I got it hand it to you – you’re either very stealthy or we’re just so loud we didn’t hear you.”
“A little of both,” the gnome laughed. “Name’s Gnomarchy. What’s the game?”
“Apparently we are headed to the Heart of the Maelstrom,” Sir Tawmis shrugged. “We don’t know what to expect and could use someone who can stealth and pick locks.”
“And pockets too,” the gnome laughed and tossed Sir Tawmis his gold pouch.
“Perhaps,” Sir Tawmis replied, tying the pouch more securely.
“Be glad that’s the only pouch I cut, eh?” the gnome laughed.
Sir Tawmis looked at Choir of Fire who had to use all of their strength to stop from bursting out laughing.
Check out my publication on DMs Guild: https://www.dmsguild.com/browse.php?author=Tawmis%20Logue
Check out my comedy web series - Neverending Nights: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Wr4-u9-zw0&list=PLbRG7dzFI-u3EJd0usasgDrrFO3mZ1lOZ
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Chapter Six: Come On Baby, Light My Fire
“So that’s the plan then? Just stroll to the Black Lakes, get on a boat – and go into the Heart of the Maelstrom because some wizard told you he lost his bag?” Gnomarchy asked, scratching his head.
“You put it that way it sounds really stupid,” Sir Tawmis admitted, still uncertain why he’d even let things get this far. But something seemed to compel him forward – something in him wanted to help the odd wizard.
“Sounds like a fabulously horrible idea!” Gnomarchy chuckled. “But if we’re going to the Black Lakes, we’re going to need a light to guide us through the darkness. The Heart of the Maelstrom casts constant darkness over the lakes. And I’ve got just the thing. Well, not so much a thing, but a person in mind.”
The party followed Gnomarchy through the woods, into an area that became denser, wetter, and quickly reminded Sir Tawmis of the goblin hill they’d just been in. “Is there a reason we’re marching into a swamp?”
Gnomarchy turned their head. “Yes. You think I’d get lost in my own forest?”
“I don’t know what to think anymore,” Sir Tawmis admitted.
“WoodsGirl0402!” Gnomarchy suddenly called out.
“WoodsGirl0402?” Sir Tawmis asked.
“Ain’t you ever met a firbolg before? They’re odd ones – but they don’t have names. It’s just WoodGender and the number they are of that gender… so there’s WoodsMan309, WoodsThey432, and WoodsGirl is 0402,” the gnome shrugged. “I mean, everyone has their own naming conventions of how they do things.”
Sure enough, an attractive firbolg emerged from the murky swamp. “Oh, you brought friends, Gnomarchy? You know us firbolgs are a shy lot. What can I do for you?”
“We need Wsyperra,” the gnome winked. “Apparently this lot is headed for the Heart of the Maelstrom in search for some bag. So we could use Wsyperra’s light to cut through some of that blasted darkness. The light of a will-o-wisp would be handy.”
“I will see if Wsyperra will join you on your most noble quest,” the firbolg woman said, and seemingly disappeared back into the swamp. A moment later, a ball of light, swaying back and forth constantly appeared. “Wsyperra!” the gnome called out.
“Oh, it’s you!” the will-o-wisp called back. “WoodsGirl0402 said you’re all going to the Heart of the Maelstrom?”
“That seems to be the plan,” the gnome remarked.
Sir Tawmis took note – he’d heard horror stories of actual will-o-wisps… and what he was seeing was not a will-o-wisp. It was a fairy that glowed brightly.
As they marched back through the forest, Sir Tawmis slowed down his pace. “What’s the deal with Wsyperra?”
The gnome laughed, “We all pretend to accept the fact that Wsyperra is a will-o-wisp. Truth of the matter is, they’re a fairy who sneezed just as they were casting a light spell to light up a rabbit’s warren for them – and the effect created a permanent light spell on themselves. So, I suppose, to hide the fact, Wsyperra began telling people he was a will-o-wisp. Regardless, his light is magical and should hold out against the Heart of the Maelstrom’s continual darkness.”
Chapter Seven: Lunar Sea.
“If we are truly headed into the Heart of the Maelstrom, near the mountains, there is one who might provide great help,” Wsyperra’s tiny voice exclaimed. “He dwells high in the mountain tops of Featherstone.”
“Isn’t Featherstone home to the bird-people,” HelloIml asked, strumming his loud instrument, for dramatic effect.
“The Kenku?” Sir Tawmis asked.
“Oh, I do love ravens,” IAmSposta clapped his hands excitedly.
“Are they ravens?” Choir of Fire asked.
“I thought they were crows,” HelloIml replied.
“I love crows too,” IAmSposta giggled. How this massive minotaur sounded like a fourteen year old girl was beyond Sir Tawmis’ comprehension. “I just love birds.”
“They’re called Aarakocra,” Wsyperra’s voice sounded exasperated already. “The one we seek is named Quar1on.”
“Quar-one-on?” Sir Tawmis asked.
“Yes,” Wsyperra replied. “But it’s a one.”
“That’s what I said,” Sir Tawmis replied, confused.
“No, as in the number one,” Wsyperra sighed as if it were obvious. “The number in their name details their rank in their order. 1 is more important than 2. And 2 is more important than 3. So on and so on. So since they are a 1 – they are the mostly highly respected of their flock.”
Choir of Fire kept stride with Sir Tawmis and whispered, “Ever notice that the next person recruited ‘knows someone else’ that we should speak with?”
Sir Tawmis nodded. “I noticed. Seems like forced telling story. Like we’re just actors in some weird story being told. And perhaps that’s why we feel compelled to do this.”
“Oh, I love being compelled,” came the burly minotaur’s reply from behind them.
“Contrived,” HelloIml said, strumming his instrument, producing a loud noise. “That’s the word you’re looking for. A story that feels rushed or lazy is called contrived.”
“Thanks,” Sir Tawmis looked at HelloIml, then back at Choir of Fire, and then his gaze went forward. The party had just reached Featherstone. On one side of the towering mountain, its grim face stared out towards the Black Lakes, where in the center of the massive bodies of waters, raged a darkened magical storm of red waters, churning ever upward – the Heart of the Maelstrom. The red waters were said to be clay, deep beneath the lakes that were churning in the waters – but the story evolved that it was the blood of those who lived on the scattered islands of the Black Lakes when the Maelstrom first emerged. It developed the name the Heart of the Maelstrom, because the blood-like waters churned like blood pounding into a vein, into dark, mysterious clouds above that crackled constantly and unleashed unnatural, red bolts of lightning – also said to be due to the water absorbed into the clouds from the clay – but everyone else said it was ‘blood lightning.’
The other side of the towering mountain faced a serene ocean, whose waters barely even seemed to ripple or have waves. The ocean water was impossibly still – which is why it earned its name Lunar Sea – because when the ocean was first spotted, it truly appeared as if the moon were laying on the ocean waters and could be touched by swimming out to it.
Quar1on, according to Wsyperra, was a bird race known as an Aarakocra – who was a lunar sorcerer – whose focus changed, depending on the phase of the moon.
“So,” Sir Tawmis grunted as they continued to climb up Featherstone. “You mean to tell me this wizard…”
“Sorcerer,” Wsyperra corrected. “Very different; wizards study to get their magic, sorcerers are born with it.”
“Right, sorcerer,” Sir Tawmis grunted as he reached for the next stone to grab, nearly losing his footing. “He gets his power based on the phases of the moon?”
“Correct,” Wsyperra floated upward effortlessly, pausing constantly for the others who could not fly.
“And he has three – what did you call them?” Sir Tawmis asked.
“Spellcasting focuses,” Wsyperra sighed, exasperated.
“One you said is an organ-duck?” Sir Tawmis asked, pausing to catch his breath.
Wsyperra fluttered in circles, waiting. “Origami. Are you truly that uneducated?” Sir Tawmis clenched his fist, but felt Choir of Fire’s hand on his shoulder to ease his frustration. “Origimi is a from Kamiori – where the people of that island developed an art of paper folding. He uses this during the new moon, because the new moon symbolizes creation. And with origami, you create new things from paper.”
“Paper folding,” Sir Tawmis muttered. “And his second focus, for the crescent moon is a pair of scissors.”
“Yes,” Wsyperra said. “And before you ask, it’s because the crescent moon looks cut. And his third focus, so I don’t have to repeat myself for a third time, is an actual moon rock, which he uses during the full moon to honor the gift of the moon.”
Sir Tawmis lunged at Wsyperra, but Choir of Fire caught him by the belt and prevented him from reaching the ‘will-o-wisp’ fairy.
The party finally reached the top – where they were greeted by a sight of several nests. One stuck out more so than the others – it was larger, also precariously out on a limb that overlooked the Lunar Sea. They could see one of the Aarakocra gazing outward from the nest, seemingly in a deep trance – or perhaps a conversation with the moon itself.
Sir Tawmis began to edge his way across the branch when suddenly the bird-being named Quar1on snapped out of their trance and began screaming. “Hey! Whoa! Whoa! Stop! Stop! What by the gleaming moon are you doing? Your dumb weight will send my nest over the edge! Do you have hollow bones? I don’t think so! Maybe a hollow skull! But certainly no hollow bones!”
Sir Tawmis quickly backed off the branch, relieved. “Not really a big fan of heights.”
Quar1on marched across the branch, their feathers ruffled. “Well, you would have fixed that right up had you gotten any further! We would have both been racing to meet the stony ground below because of that empty skull of yours.”
“Can’t you fly?” Choir of Fire asked before the words came out of Sir Tawmis’ mouth.
“Fly? Fly? Sure! But a captain always goes down with the ship! And so an Aarakocra always goes down with the nest!” Quar1on proclaimed.
“That seems like a bad idea,” Sir Tawmis muttered.
“Well so does a captain going down with the ship, but you humans do it,” Quar1on shrugged their feathery arms all about. “What can I do for the human-brained lot of you?”
“Isn’t that supposed to be ‘bird-brained’,” HelloIml whispered, but then strummed his loud instrument and drew attention to himself.
“Let it go,” Choir of Fire whispered after the awkward silence passed.
“We’re on a quest to enter the Heart of the Maelstrom. Apparently a wizard lost his magical bag and has asked me – us – to help him find it and return it to him,” Sir Tawmis began.
“Ah,” Quar1on nodded. “Then the all-seeing Moon was right. The Moon saw you and saw your quest and bestowed knowledge to pass down to you. Understand, I am not aware of the meaning and can only pass the words, as best to my understanding from the Immortal Moon to you. The Moon told me – ‘Seek the one who bears all; who has the rage of the beast within. They speak not, but their companion no longer sleeps, for he has been awakened. They will provide you with the knowledge where to go next.”
“Where to go next? Why couldn’t the moon just tell us where to go next? Why do we need to find someone else to give us yet another clue?” Sir Tawmis began to rant, but then Choir of Fire stepped in front of him.
“Forgive him, he’s tired and cranky,” Choir of Fire apologized.
“The Moon told me he would be,” Quar1on seemed to somehow smile with his beak. “Good fortune on your quest.”
As they descended, it was the minotaur’s high pitched voice who piped up, “You know,” he said, gleefully. “I think I know who he means. The Moon’s clue was vague – but you know, we animals, we got to stick together. And there’s a Koala-folk I know who has an awakened Kangaroo. The only problem is,” the minotaur high pitch voice went to a low whisper.
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Chapter Eight: Animal Kingdom
The Ruh’shaw Forest – an elven term meaning ‘beware of fang and claw’ meaning bears. The story goes that the dense forest is populated with thousands of bears – bears that do not permit any humanoids to enter beneath the wooden canopy.
“Well,” Choir of Fire sighed, “IAmSposta is right. That is a problem. If our Koala friend is in there, there’s no way any of us are going in there and going to survive the bears in there. We’d be mauled once we got about three feet in. I can already feel the eyes of a thousand bears watching us from inside the density of those woods.”
“Leave that to me,” Sir Tawmis smirked.
“That’s been a bad idea with how you’ve interacted with others,” IAmSposta pointed out.
Sir Tawmis turned. “Remember your remark about animals sticking together?” Suddenly Sir Tawmis’ features began to change as he took on the form of a massive brown bear. “As it turns out,” his voice, deeper, garbled, as his bear tongue tried to compensate for the formation of words. “As it would turn out, I am a shifted – a werebear woman infected my grandfather, and now it’s been passed down.”
“I…” IAmSposta paused, “… did not see that coming.”
As Sir Tawmis made his way through the woods – the bears in the woods made no effort to hide that they were following; their massive paws crushing branches, snapping them as easily as they’d snap bones; occasionally growling from the shadows.
Sir Tawmis finally reached the center – where to his surprise, he saw Koala-Kin rolling around, crashing into everything. “Excuse me,” his voice was deep. “I see your leader.”
“BlackBear_,” one called out.
“Black Bear Underscore?” Sir Tawmis’ bear tongue wagged. “Is he a bard then? He’s done scores of music?”
“I am hardly a bard,” a towering Koala-kin stood, then tumbled out of the tree, as he reached for eucalyptus leaf. As the Koala-Kin stood up, a kangaroo hopped over to Sir Tawmis. The Kangaroo looked at BlackBear_ and growled, “Wat av i tol' ya about talkin' Bloody oath mate?” It turned its attention to Sir Tawmis in bear-form. “Ya ahah in the bloody presence of the bloody kin'. Wat business dya av?”
“We seek advice about entering the Heart of the Maelstrom,” Sir Tawmis tried to speak as clearly as he could, but he had a feeling he sounded something like the odd Kangaroo’s odd dialect.
“That is a foolish ideah.”
“We know,” Sir Tawmis confessed. “But we feel obligated.”
“Head down the bloody rivah until ya find the bloody one bawrn of dragons.” The Kangaroo pointed and BlackBear_ nodded in agreement, chewing on a eucalyptus joyfully – pointing to the left – then seeing the Kangaroo pointing to the right – changed, and he too pointed to the right.
“So deeper into the woods; Can I get my companions? I know normally humanoids are not permitted I these woods – but I will need their aid,” Sir Tawmis confessed, thankful to know that none of his companions would have heard his confession to needing help.
“Fine but make it quick. Fahraggin’ fair dinkum mate!” the Kangaroo growled – then oddly whistled. A moment later, Sir Tawmis’ companions were escorted into the center of the odd village.
“What’s happening? They all appeared out of the woods – and growled at us – circling us – then a burst of light and we were in the woods,” Choir of Fire explained.
“Oh, honey pot,” the minotaur chuckled, “it was just a summoning circle they made. We’re all good now. What’s next?”
“We need to find a Dragonborn by the river,” Sir Tawmis explained. “They will give us the next clue.”
Chapter Nine: The River of Sticks
The party moved through the Ruh’shaw Forest until they finally heard the sound of running water – then a voice calling out. “Kel! I loved you! Why have you forsaken me? I had to flee from the Black Lakes! The Maelstrom came! And everything changed.”
Sir Tawmis peaked through the brush and saw a topaz dragonborn. “You must be DrakenBrine?”
The topaz dragon who had been rolling around on the floor in sorrow, rocking back and forth as if they were trying to put out a fire on their now muddy cloak, sprang to their feet and muttered words of magic; a purple glow forming around their hands.
“This one is a warlock,” Wsyperra warned. “That purple magic energy is a warlock signature. Means they made a pact with a demon and it’s brimstone that powers their magical abilities.”
“How did you know my name? No one knows my name here! Not since the Maelstrom took away the island I called home!” the Topaz Dragonborn snapped.
“The Kangaroo,” Sir Tawmis called out.
“That blasted minotaur-muscled-rodent talks too much,” the Topaz Dragonborn hissed.
“Hey, I take offense to that,” IAmSposta’s high pitch called out from the shadows.
“Not now,” Sir Tawmis whispered. He turned and faced the Topaz Dragonborn whose hands were no longer glowing. “We will leave you to your wallowing,” Sir Tawmis shouted, “once we get some help. We were told you know something about the Heart of the Maelstrom.”
“You…” the topaz dragonborn seemed shocked. “You are going into the Heart of the Maelstrom?”
“We are,” Sir Tawmis nodded.
“Why would you do anything so foolish?” DrakenBrine asked.
“We’ve asked ourselves that for a few days now,” Sir Tawmis confessed. “Near as I can tell because there’s an odd impulse to do it.”
“I don’t know how to get you in,” the topaz dragon began.
“Let me guess, but you know someone else who does,” Sir Tawmis called out, heaving a deep sigh as he looked to Choir of Fire.
“Why do you keep doing that? I only have a few lines, and I am not even going with you! Let me get my own lines in without cutting me off! But yes! I know someone. A gnoll ranger named Kayaking Poodle. They are the protector of boats that travel the rivers. And they know how to traverse through the River of Sticks.”
“River of Styx?” IAmSposta called out, concerned.
“Yes,” the topaz dragonborn replied. “Was I not clear enough in how I pronounced it? You know like branches that fall off from trees. Sticks. S-T-I-C-K-S.”
“Not S-T-Y-X?” IAmSposta asked.
“Who would spell ‘sticks’ like that? Weird people who spell their names weird?” the topaz dragonborn seemed genuinely confused.
“I don’t know if I feel comfortable with this,” IAmSposta whispered. “Whether they really mean ‘sticks’ or they just don’t know they mean ‘Styx.’”
“If you go to the Heart of the Maelstrom and put an end to it, I will be able to return to Kel,” the topaz dragonborn seemed elated.
“Who is Kel? If she was on one of the islands when the Maelstrom appeared,” IAmSposta called out, having lived on one of those islands and only escaping thanks to the unicorn headed genie that saved him and his people.
“Oh no! She wasn’t on the island. She’s a corrupted Kelpie – you know the seaweed people. I got all tangled up one night swimming – and it turns out I was tangled up in her. It was like a real life metaphor. Being tangled in her love.”
The topaz dragonborn led them to the gnoll, who had a raft pulled on the shore – and explained the mission. The raft, seemingly adjusted magically, to grow in size to allow for the party. The gnoll looked at everyone. “I must warn you. When we go through the River of Sticks,” the gnoll began.
“There it is again,” IAmSposta muttered.
“The roots of the land from which the Maelstrom has torn apart, will reach out like the hands of the undead and seek to pull you off the raft and into the water,” the gnoll explained.
“Seriously, this sounds like the River of Styx,” whimpered, his massive, muscular body shivering as if he were deep in snow.
“Once you enter the Maelstrom, be aware of two things. The first will be the Nothic. It can peer into the minds of people… and pull out … jokes that would make you laugh. Do not laugh. It is critical you do not laugh at the Nothic’s jokes. To do so would allow it to pull you into the Plane of Jesters.”
“Gestures? Like movements?” IAmSposta asked, so worried about this ‘River of Sticks.’
“Are you tone deaf? I said Jesters. Like the people who wear funny clothes and tell bad jokes?” the gnoll sighed.
“What’s the second thing,” HelloIml asked.
“The second is the summoned darkness that makes up the Maelstrom,” Kayaking Poodle warned. “A sorcerer tried to stop the Maelstrom from taking the island – and tried to pull its magical energies into himself… however, what happened is that the Maelstrom was more powerful – and he turned this sorcerer, whose name has now long been forgotten, into a shadowy mist known as The Summoning Dark.”
The gnoll began rowing down the river. “In order to recover the magic bag, you will need to free him from the shadow.”
“Wait,” Sir Tawmis looked at Kayaking Poodle. “How do you know about the magic bag? We hadn’t mentioned it.”
“Destiny,” the gnoll replied, cryptically. “Destiny told me your mission.”
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Chapter Ten: Hello Darkness My Old Friend.
The gnoll miraculously maneuvered the raft away from the grappling roots, whose fringes, moved like eager finger tips of children, trying to grasp candy. As the raft came to a sudden halt on the sole island in which the Maelstrom wrapped itself around, the eerie voice from somewhere beyond called out.
“I am Nothic 2 See Here 2,” it said.
“Don’t you mean ‘Nothing to see here too’,” Choir of Fire asked.
“You won’t confuse me,” the voice retorted.
“No,” Sir Tawmis nodded. “She’s right. The saying is ‘Nothing to see here’,” he shrugged. “And if you’re indicating a response, it’d be ‘Nothing to see here, too.’ If you were doing an Investigation check, for example.”
“Hold on,” the voice asked. “Have I been saying this saying wrong my whole life then?”
“Afraid so,” Sir Tawmis shrugged, looking around him, uncertain where the voice was coming from. “In an Investigation, details matter. Or so I recently heard.”
“Well, can I still tell you some of my jokes?” the voice asked, somewhat pleading, clearly devastated it’d named itself incorrectly.
“Sure,” Choir of Fire called out.
“Remember don’t laugh though,” IAmSposta warned – his soft whisper as gentle as rolling thunder.
“Any Paladins in the group?” the voice asked.
“Just tell the joke,” Sir Tawmis called out.
“Why do Paladins prefer chainmail? Because it’s HOLEY armor! Get it? Like HOLY? But HOLEY? Any clerics? You know why adventurers love clerics? Because they’re the life of every party! Get it! Because they heal? Did you hear about the death clerics who worship a milk god? Apparently they can churn undead! Get it? Like TURN undead? But churn? You know, churning butter!? This is a tough crowd! Well, speaking of undead, you know why there are no undead bards? Because they can’t compose music, they can only decompose!” the voice laughed to itself. “OK! Here’s some more! What’s a mountain peak guarded by rogues called? A sneak peak! What do you call an entire party of rogues? A surprise party! Why do Rogues use leather armor? Because it’s made of HIDE!” The voice again chuckled. “Oh, another bard joke – what do you call a group of bard in plate mail? HEAVY METAL!” The voice now sounded frustrated. “OK, final joke – you don’t laugh – you can see the Summoning Dark. What do you call a halfling fortune-teller who escaped from prison? ... A small medium at large!”
Not a sound of laughter.
Suddenly a doorway opened, and beyond it, swirling darkness.
“You may pass into the Maelstrom,” the voice called out, frustrated.
“I don’t understand what happened,” Sir Tawmis took a deep breath. “I was laughing at a lot of those jokes.”
“I thought some of us might be, so just as we stepped on the land, I cast Silence on myself and made sure I stayed in the center of the group. The sound of our laughter never left the sphere. Because several us were laughing quite a bit,” Choir of Fire smirked.
As the party entered the swirling darkness, Sir Tawmis called out, “Wsyperra, we need your light.”
“I am trying,” Wsyperra called out, “but the darkness is stronger.”
“Why have you come,” a voice boomed all around them. This was the man who had now become The Summoning Dark – his face spread across the darkness.
“We have come to recover a magical bag that apparently ended up here” Sir Tawmis shouted.
“Then you seek Mealladh,” the voice growled. “Do you wish an audience with the green hag? I assure you it would be your last. I will give you once chance to depart.”
“We can’t,” Sir Tawmis said, firmly. “If it is a green hag we must face, then we shall.”
HelloIml looked at the others. “That’s the name of the hag that cut me in half.”
“Indeed,” the Summoning Dark laughed. “And now you must face yourself.”
In a blink of the eye, the party was somewhere new – the feywild – and dark magical energy was being channeled into a cabin in the woods – like smoke from a chimney going in reverse. Just as the party rushed forward – they were greeted by a thundering boom as a massive spiked club barely missed them. “I crush’em and eats’em I wills!” They stared up at a towering Ettin that looked exactly like HelloIml might – if he was distorted by pure evil.
However, the Ettin was surprised as he watched his only remaining head remove itself from his body – as HelloIml stood behind the Ettin, holding a metallic string from his instrument that he used to sever the Ettin’s head. HelloIml stared at his hands – then at the others who looked on – shocked. “I… I am sorry,” he said, “I saw myself – a purification of evil and could not stand what I saw. I cannot believe that was the other half of me.”
“It never was,” Choir of Fire said, comforting her friend. “You had your own mind. You shared a body. But your mind was your own. You’re free of the darkness.”
“And that is what this is about,” the Summoning Dark’s voice called out, “that we can all be free of the darkness.”
The party kicked down the door of the wooden cabin of the hag – and saw she was drawing the power into a red and green bag – the bag of holding. “I will draw from this power when I need to!” she laughed as she stared at the party. “So much power contained inside! You have no hope of stopping me.” With a wave of her hand – everyone was suddenly pinned to the wall. “Look at you all. Ornaments for me to break and shatter on the ground.”
“All save for one, hag,” a familiar woman’s voice, to Sir Tawmis, snapped – and suddenly the earth rumbled and the hag, unable to maintain her balance, stumbled backwards into the very bag she’d been channeling all of the Maelstrom’s energy into! The party collapsed to the ground and Sir Tawmis looked up, “AEDorsay! Where in Hades have you been? You were supposed to meet me in Joureja!”
She laughed. “You know the saying – a wizard is never late. She arrives precisely when she means to.” She looked at the phylactery on the counter and shattered it. The Summoning Dark – suddenly a mortal – appeared in the hag’s cabin. “I am finally free.”
“Your soul is yours again,” another familiar voice said. Sir Tawmis looked. It was the plump wizard, adorned in his unusual red and white attire. “You may not recall your name, but you can begin anew. Make a new life for yourself.”
“And you,” he looked at Choir of Fire. “Your redemption is the truth revealed. You never burned down that church. That blasted Arch-Devil made you believe so – so distraught with guilt after you learned of the gifts – it allowed him to shape your body into that Tiefling form. Look here, look in the mirror and see the true you.”
Before everyone’s eyes, Choir of Fire’s body was restored to the very body they’d always desired.
The odd wizard named Nikalos picked up his bag and peered inside. “Oh, I see I have a visitor in there. Well, that’s where she will remain until she finds her Gift of Giving Spirit again. Now, with the Maelstrom destroyed – the world is, for now, free of the darkness. And now, the Celebration of Giving can proceed.”
The party stared at one another, and then embraced tightly.
Merry Christmas everyone!
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Fun Notes:
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Terra Lubridia archive:
The Bloody Barnacle | The Gut | The Athene Crusader | The Jewel of Atlantis
I'm too lazy to insert a GIF but dang, that was good. despite being a gen Z, I got the "hello darkness my old friend" reference immediately and loved it. I love their music.
Hey, It's me, RaccoonMaster! I'm back! I disappeared for a while there, and I'm very sporadic when I'm online lol.
I'm an actor, writer, singer (opera, musical theatre, and rock are my preferred genres), backpacker, and tall person (6'5 and counting). Pronouns are whatever, I mostly use They/Them though.
My Characters: Elsenia Selevarum: The Popular Paladin, Aasimar Noble, Level 4 Paladin of Redemption;
Hope to see you around!
It's all right. I will take comments or gifs. (Comments are easier to reply to because there's some context).
I have always loved doing this kind of "spur of the moment writing." I (was) on an ElfQuest forum where every month folks would recommend three random story elements (such as: winter, dagger, tragic moment, etc.) - and the challenge is you'd write a story that fits all those elements into a single story. Well, I had taken it one step further - my story was on going, so from month to month, each of the segments connected to make an ongoing story, just to pull that off.
I used to do something similar for a game called Legend of Grimrock. The game starts with four characters thrown into a mountain prison and you never find out why. So I wrote a backstory for the characters. Then kept doing it. At work, when I'd go on break - I'd see how much I could write in 15 minutes and keep the story going. I did something similar for Dragon Age: Origins. Created a story that branched off from Origins - with my own cast of characters, and on lunch or break, just sit down and write, with no plans what so ever to see where the story goes.
So I had no intention of writing a story segment for the latest suggested characters - but everyone was posting "Merry Christmas" in this thread and I thought, "OK - fun Christmas present that's free - I do write a story and tie it all to Christmas." And so I sat down - and I think, in total, it probably took me about an hour a half (between googling horrible D&D jokes and googling horrible Australian translators) - and being forced to take a break to do things with the family.
But I immensely enjoyed doing it.
For anyone who missed the new story on the previous page...
https://www.dndbeyond.com/forums/off-topic/adohands-kitchen/166611-anything-but-the-ogl-2-0-literally-anything?comment=3973
https://www.dndbeyond.com/forums/off-topic/adohands-kitchen/166611-anything-but-the-ogl-2-0-literally-anything?comment=3974
https://www.dndbeyond.com/forums/off-topic/adohands-kitchen/166611-anything-but-the-ogl-2-0-literally-anything?comment=3975
https://www.dndbeyond.com/forums/off-topic/adohands-kitchen/166611-anything-but-the-ogl-2-0-literally-anything?comment=3976
https://www.dndbeyond.com/forums/off-topic/adohands-kitchen/166611-anything-but-the-ogl-2-0-literally-anything?comment=3977
https://www.dndbeyond.com/forums/off-topic/adohands-kitchen/166611-anything-but-the-ogl-2-0-literally-anything?comment=3978
https://www.dndbeyond.com/forums/off-topic/adohands-kitchen/166611-anything-but-the-ogl-2-0-literally-anything?comment=3979
The fun notes about the above story:
https://www.dndbeyond.com/forums/off-topic/adohands-kitchen/166611-anything-but-the-ogl-2-0-literally-anything?comment=3980
Check out my publication on DMs Guild: https://www.dmsguild.com/browse.php?author=Tawmis%20Logue
Check out my comedy web series - Neverending Nights: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Wr4-u9-zw0&list=PLbRG7dzFI-u3EJd0usasgDrrFO3mZ1lOZ
Need a character story/background written up? I do it for free (but also take donations!) - https://forums.giantitp.com/showthread.php?591882-Need-a-character-background-written-up