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Chronicle looks good! Thanks for running Gustavef and thanks all for a fun game!
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With all the singing and dancing, Li'l Harsk stops and ponders, before deciding, "On second thought, let's not go to the Fallen Fortress. 'Tis a silly place."
Series of rainstorms has flooded my basement. May be another day or two before I can get a post out. Feel free to bot me.
Li'l Harsk just quietly sighs during the song and dance routines. How can old people actually enjoy that kind of music? It is all sooo last Wealday, ponders the younger dwarf.
Li'l Harsk takes a li'l swing of the axe.
Li'l Harsk drops his crossbow, holds his breath, and draws his battleaxe to swing at the for before him.
Li'l Harsk waits for one of the creatures to stand up before firing.
Li'l Harsk lets a bolt fly towards the green troglodyte. "Before you bolt, I will!"
Li'l Harsk loads his retrieved crossbow. He signals to the other Harsk to hush, before he whispers, "Criminals are superstitious and cowardly lot. We'd best proceed with surprise." And with that he boots open the door, prepared to fire at the first moving thing he sees!
Swarmed by bats, Li'l Harsk falls down and cries out for about a minute (closer to about 1:06), but then he learns to pick himself up. He looks around.
Spotting one of the departing bats, he cries, "A bat! That's it! It's an Omen..!" After pausing for an origin moment, he grabs the hem of his cloak, draws it to his face, and cries, "To the stairwell, Old Chums!"
Li'l Harsk, thrilled to seeing the burning bones fall, rushes towards the other one, keeping a wide berth of its flaming fingers until he is behind the undead.
As his crossbow proved ineffective, Li'l Harsk drops it and draws his axe. Rushing forward, he flinches as he swings the axe towards the burning bones.
"I don't think these things are natural." announces Li'l Harsk as he takes a step into the room loads his crossbow and fires it at the burning skeleton near the altar.
Harsk knows nothing about things local. Li'l Harsk decides to dawn the birded-banner like a cape. "Ksrah!" he shouts playfully, as if waiting for a lightning bolt to strike, but it never comes. Undaunted, the littler Harsk runs towards the door of the staircase, with the cry, "Onward and upward!"
"Gosh! What for me!" cries Li'l Harsk as he sees his fellow Harsk head for the door. The smaller dwarf rushes by them, squeezing through the door and then bringing his crossbow to bear.
Having picked up his crossbow while Harsk searched the door, Li'l Harsk continues his celebratory outlook, until the smell strikes his nose. He loads his crossbow and shoots in the direction of the stink.
"I gotsta shoot it! I gotsta shoot it!" cries Li'l Harsk jumping up and down. "This might be an occasion for tea!"
"Ouchees!" Li'l Harsk cries out. A tear drips down from his wide-eyes as his body absorbs the electrical charge. He drops his crossbow from his still stingy hand. He then reaches for his axe and brings it down towards the lizard's head!
Li'l Harsk follows the ranger, keeping his wide eyes widely peeled.
"Willickers! What do ya think we'll find 'n here, Mistah Harsk?"
Li'l Harsk points out the collar, "Seems that this poor creature done belong to summon." With the stairway blocked, the little dwarf attempts to climb.
But, the little guy just can't seem to get his footing.
Seeing Harsk running towards him with the axe, Li'l Harsk closes his big eyes and attempts to break free from the spider's webbing so to be elsewhere when the axe falls.
"Ewwww!" says Li'l Harsk as he struggles to free himself from the website. "This is icky!"
Li'l Harsk prepares to tie himself up with the rope, when he hears the singing arachnid. Seeing the ranger enter the room and ready his crossbow, the smaller dwarf follows with his crossbow at the ready, knowing that it would be impolite to kill the singer in the middle of its musical number.
With weapon in hand, he patiently waits for the intermission.
"Aw shucks!" says Li'l Harsk as he kicks a stone out of they way as he approaches the dog corpses. "I didn'a even get ta hit nuttin'." After exploring the rubble of the southern chamber and determining it to be impassable, the small dwarf looks upward. "Say! Maybe we could jus' climb up the tower! From the outside! With some haste, he pulls off his backpack and rifles through it, producing a signal whistle, some trail rations, a vial of antitoxin, a few crossbow bolts, and a teapot. Reaching the bottom of his backpack, the dwarf looks up. "No rope." he whimpers upon having a realization. "I'm supposed ta be an adventur'r and I f'rgot ta bring any rope." His lip begins to quiver and a small tear well's up in one of his sizeable eyes. Then, in an effort to calm himself, he takes in a deep breath before asking the other Harsks, "Anybody got sum rope? Surely, among all o'ya 'venturers, at least one of ya has got sum rope!"
Seeing the others draw their crossbows, Li'l Harsk's wide eyes grow wider. "Gee whiz! Why, I gotz one o' those too!" he remarks, before stepping down from the rock and moving toward the barking beasts. He let's loose a bolt, hoping not to hit Harsk.
"Huh. Looks a little broken down, like you, Harsk!" Sexy Harsk guffaws attractively. "I think he's talkin' ta you." Li'l Harsk whispers to the nearest Harsk. Rushing forward and climbing atop the nearest boulder and examines the structure and nearby environs.
"Gosh," he mutters aloud. "I must have misheard Harsk--at least the one who looked like he was older than middle-aged, but younger than the oldest of Harsk. I thought he said it was the 'Fallen Fortress', but since sum of its still standin', he clearly meant the "Fallin' Fortress.'"
"Golly!" pipes up Li'l Harsk. "Ize n'er been to no 'Fallen Fortress' bef'r. It all sounds like it'll be lot'sa fun!" The smaller dwarf slides himself up on one of the tables in the Lodge in order to be better seen and heard by the Older than Middle-Aged Harsk but Younger than Old Harsk Harsk. "But, jus' how'll it'll all be that we'd be recognizin' this 'legdendary Harsk-stone--not to be confused with the Lesser Stone of Harsk, or Stoned Harsk--?" "No offense, Dude." Li'l Harsk adds quickly as an aside, anticipating a response from a Harsk in the back of the Hall. "I didn'a mean ta go 'n Harsk yer mellow."
"Great flamin' badgers, sonny-boy! Why're yer eyes so darn big?!?" "Well, gosh!" the smaller dwarf replies, "Prob’ly ‘cause I’s enjoy the wide skies of the open plains more than claustrophobic tunnels.” “And I’s prefer the taste o’ tea ta alcohol, too, I does!” he adds, as he pulls a teapot out of his backpack. When Li’l Harsk notices the cat dashing away, he tries to console the other dwarf. "Gee whiz, Mister! That’s some bad luck. " He withdraws a signal whistle from his backpack and offers, "Maybe, I can teach that cat a trick er two!”
Unable to herd the cat, the dwarf notes, "Maybe, it just doesn't like dwarves."
"Gee, Mister." chimes in Li'l Harsk. "That axe o' yours sure is shiny!" "How do ya manage ta keep it lookin' so clean?"
Harsk... That profile pic looks a bit like it would be Sleepy Harsk (or is it Grumpy Harsk? Sneezy Harsk, perhaps?) Oh, and I was able to settle on a Harsk. - Lysle |