Phantom Post!
Well, attack #1 missed.....
The giant dwarf points like Babe Ruth, then swats the drow chevalier across the room to "spack" against the wall, then slowly slide down to come to rest, dead on the floor of the arena.
4,800 experience points.
The same feminine voice from beyond the mirror; "wow....Krillk was all talk. In the sack as well as in the ring.....wow.....dead, with one hit...."
POST DAMN YOU!!! POST!!!!!
<Walks over to the drow.>
"Alas, looks lik' ah murdered ye. Gie mah regards tae Lolth, Krillk."
Yeah....you can....
When Stiggy puts the hammer into the mirror, there's.....nothing there whatsoever. No glass or anything. The hammer passes through, and it comes bashing down onto the floor.
The mirror is still there.
There's a lot of screaming and commotion from behind where the mirror is.
reflex save for Stiggy....
...
reflex save for Stiggy....
A burst of fire hits Stiggy; 37 h.p. in damage.
Four magic missiles thunk into him as well. Stiggy takes 17 more h.p. in damage.
A burst of fire hits Stiggy; 37 h.p. in damage.
Four magic missiles thunk into him as well. Stiggy takes 17 more h.p. in damage.
<Scorched and stinking of burnt hair and roast pork, Stiggy tries to find the source of the blasts.>
They came from behind the mirror that isn't there.
"Gutboy,.....put down your hammer....trust that you are more valuable to House Vae alive than dead," speaks the feminine voice from behind the mirror, the one that named you "Gutboy."
"If yer tae fearful tae blether tae me while Ah haud a hammer in mah haun, wifie, then yer o' na uise tae me. A'd ower be deid than be a slave tae a drow wha cannae e'en staund o'er frae me while ah breathe 'n' haud a hammar."
<Stig changes to a carrying grip on his hammer and straightens up out of his fighting crouch.>
A solitary drow female levitates out from the illusory mirror; she's about 20 feet up in the air. Beautiful, sharp features bely her deadliness; garbed in delicate elven chain decorated with spider motifs. A whip hangs on one hip, and on the other one a longsword.
"I am Vularia, of House Vae. You acquit yourself well, dwarf. I can tell that, with you, we have a tiger by the tail."
<Stiggy slings the loop of his hammer, collects and slings the silver axe with which he jammed the door, and stands at ease.>
"Weel ye kin fly 'n' ye'r richt hot--Ah'll gie ye tha'. Bit if yi'll waant me unarmed dinnae unman me, drowess. Huv th' decency tae blast me intae incunshusness--shood'nae be hard--Ah'm awready feelin' a bawherr whoozy 'ere."
"You are a raging bull of contradictions, Stiggy;" says Vularia; "it would be a pity to dispatch you while you continue to provide me with such interest....."
there is a fervent chanting from beyond the illusory mirror. A thousand flashbulbs go off all over the floor of the arena; there is a stink of brimstone, and the floor is suddenly riddled with hundreds of tumorous, fleshy mushrooms varying in size from fingerlings up and to cresting the level of Stigwold's kneecaps. A field of swaying, murmruring, chittering stalked cysts; they all start to sway and point at Stiggy.
<Stiggy goes for the troll door.>
The mushrooms anthropomorphosize into little mushroomy people; "ow! ow! you killed my uncle! hey! you big bully; steppin on me!!!" they say in squeaky little voices; cherubic faces contorting in comical righteous indignation.
Stiggy hears a multitude of "poofs" and a white powdery haze fills the air; stinging spores seeking as if for his eyes;....
Cue soundtrack: White Rabbit by Jefferson Airplane...
<Stig sniffs the spores and stumbles a bit when the buzz hits...>
"Morefeichen's.... Deep Ale? <looks around slightly dazed> Whaur did mah gobbo gang? Haes a'body seen mah gobbo?"
<Mumbling.>
"Ah seem tae huv misplaced mah gobbo."
"Aye, es ah use'tae say whin nursing mah wee jimmies wi' ale from me beard: th' livah needs exercisin tae git big 'n' strong."
"Mammy? Nae... nae. Please dinnae throw me in th' weel Mammy."
<Still trying for the troll door.>
"Stiggy, ye lazy sack o' jobby, ye'r a blight oan th' name o' th' Mæch'Hæmmærs. A weel is tae guid fur ye. Ye bloggin' blootered blob."
*Meanwhile, back at the temple of Kord*
"So..." Altai leans back in his overstuffed chair, nursing a cold beer. "Has anyone seen Stig lately?"
It's midevening; Altai is furtively scrolling in the library of the temple, happy to be cloistered behind good stone and guards. Aye, if he has to unleash arcane havoc this day, in this place, leastways he'll get to buff before he's jumped by ghoulies from the shadows.....
The group met with Tormagal Gred, high priest of Kord earlier;
(any questions throw them out there if you like)
he took report of the goings on at the forsaken arch somewhat apprehensively.
"Sigh....I'm almost sorry I've sent you to bat at shadows, to chase geese all over the countryside......the need is dire, though. There have been more Hearttaker murders; two of Kord's men, three of the Jassites. Many on each side blaming the other....it portends badly I think....."
"Drow, under the old Piltdon plantation, huh? Surely they can be up to no good. Surely...."
Then, Altai hears a scrapping, a scrapping at his chamber door. There's something out there, scratching on the door; whining like a dog.
"Huh. Only one creature is stupid enough to come to my door begging for... well, anything, really. Let's see if my suspicions are confirmed..." Altai reluctantly puts the beer stein aside and opens the door.
"RAWR! RAWR!"
<Tensor jams his nose in Altai's crotch.>
Aye....it's Tenser. He looks forlorn and worried, he looks like he's been living out-of-doors, he looks disheveled.....
"Raltai! Relp! Relp! Rtiggy rin rouble!!!"
"Huh. Perhaps Tenser knows where Stig is? He certainly wouldn't abandon Stig without good cause. Lead the way, doggie! Just wait a moment for Gittik to sharpen his knives..."
"Rollow! Rollow!!! Rou ruy's rumming?"
He leads you all out of the Temple of Kord, and into the Champion's District; he runs far up ahead, forgetting your slow rate of travel, runs back; excitedly....
"Rum on, ruys! Rum on! Riggy Reeds Rou!"
Then down a street in the Cudgel, across a bridge into the Merchant's district....
of late, there seems a definite lack of people on the Streets of Sasserine.
Stiggy:
He's through the door, with a slam it's closed on a few of the shroommen. There's one left on Stiggy's leg.
This room is 4 squares by 4 squares. The door in is on the west wall at "a1." There's a stairway up running "a3 to a4" to a door on the east at "a4." IN c-d 3-4, there's an 8 foot tall tent; eerie greenish light floats about against the canvas of the marqee. On the north of the tent is an entrance covered with a tarp; an odd drowish gylph hangs on two pennants that prop up the tarp.
In b1, c2, a3, and b4, there are four bottles of rum....about the size of a hobbit each, and with animated glass arms and legs.
"Drink me, Stiggy! Drink me!" they all chant in unison.
The mushroom gnaws on Stiggy's leg, but can't find purchase.
"Swallyin a wee pick me up wid'nae hurt."
Stig takes one of the bottles.
It tastes like......heaven and the great flood, spiced with the tears of angels.
The mushroom on his leg starts laughing. It's voice sounds extremely baritone. He has lots of eyes now, and they slowly migrate across his face.
Do gods use the bathroom?
"I don't know!" laughs the mushroom man, then starts crying.
Then he starts laughing.
"Yes, they do! That's what gold is. The olmans knew it. The folk of the modern age have forgotten it.
Dragons garden with it. You don't want to know what they garden."
This the bottle of rum tells Stiggy.
<Talking rum in hand, Stig checks out the tent.>
<Gruffly to the talking mushroom and bottle> "Cease yer prattle."
You hear talking inside the tent. Two drow, from the hissing sound of their voice. What they're saying doesn't make any sense though.
It's in dwarvish, but it's babble.
"Rollow! Rollow!!! Rou ruy's rumming?"
He leads you all out of the Temple of Kord, and into the Champion's District; he runs far up ahead, forgetting your slow rate of travel, runs back; excitedly....
"Rum on, ruys! Rum on! Riggy Reeds Rou!"
Then down a street in the Cudgel, across a bridge into the Merchant's district....
of late, there seems a definite lack of people on the Streets of Sasserine.
"WHoa! Easy TEnser! What is it? Stiggy's in trouble?!? What's that? He fell down a well? Oh! He's gone so long without rum he;s in he!!? Lead on puppy! Let's go get him!" Elgan tells his four-legged friend in a strange combination of growls and barks,...
Tenser talks to Elgan:
"Oh, Elgan! Splendid! Splendid! Of all my friends, not discluding Good Milordandmauster Stigwold, only you truly understand me.
We must at once, and as a force united in one singular purpose, make all due haste; poor Mauster Stigwold has taken an upsetting fall, and I feel that, even now he is in grave peril.
I bid you follow me and godspeed you good sir elf!"
You hear talking inside the tent....
<Up the stairs then.>
Heh heh....
I gota crash...I'll get back to the action sometime.
"Hee hee, Stiggy fall down well! Me go laugh."
"Why would Stiggy be near well, I mean has he started washing himself or drinking water?" Oso shrugs.
"He might have taken to diluting his rum with water. If so, he must be desperate indeed."