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Old 08-18-2003, 01:56 PM   #40
Spirit of Mist
Join Date: Jul 2000
Location: Tol Eressea
Posts: 2,897
Mithadan has been trapped in the Barrow!

The Redneck Troll having been duly dispatched, the Gallowship, being exhausted by the soon-to-be legendary Battle of Bacon-Binge (and the subsequent orgiastic eating-binge), returned to its camp. Another day had passed, bringing the total time that the dedicated group had been wandering aimlessly to eight days. Perhaps the dawn would bring with it purpose and a worthy destination. Or perhaps dawn would only bring sun in the morning, with clouds and a 30% chance of rain during the afternoon (winds north, northwest at 10 knots)*.

Stars shone on this moonless evening as the members of the Gallowship snored, whistled, wheezed and muttered their way through a night's sleep. But something else shone as well. Two red lights, close together as if they were beady little eyes light, shone at the edge of the campsite. Grrralph sat on a log unnoticed, while the others lay slumbering.

His eyes (burning red) swept the countryside as he pretended to keep watch. No one had asked him to do so and there seemed no need for such caution, so he pretended in an effort to amuse himself. Boredom soon set in, and he drew a pale dagger and began drawing designs in the dirt. However, he soon discovered that it was too dark for him to see what he was doing so he put the knife away with a sigh. He rose and tiptoed away from the camp as quietly as he could out of consideration for his companions.

Looking up at the stars, he began swaying from side to side, as if he were striving against some force within him that was urging him to act. The urge grew stronger and stronger. He raised his hands in an attempt to cover his mouth, but failed because he, as usual, could not find his lips. Bowing his head in defeat, he began to sing.

and the Gallowship's sleeping,
and Grrralph is creeping,
because Thingwraiths don't sleep.
There's no moon,
but there's stars up above him,
from the birds there's not even a peep.

A worn boot flew through the air, striking Grrralph in the back. "Shaddup, whazamattawityouyaidjit" hissed a voice from the campsite. Must be that Gatekeeper character, thought Grrralph, admiring the skillful use of Troll-speak.

So, with another sigh, he wandered away from the camp until he reached a small hill. He climbed the slope and found a burned out hut at the top. Peeking inside, he found that the hut had been tastefully decorated with a skeleton and a variety of bones. Then, harkening to some keen inner sense, or perhaps it was the rushing of wings and the cry of a leathery prehistoric beast that attracted his attention, he backed out from the hut and looked up as a Nazcool dropped from the sky.

"Geeeeeorge!" cried Grrralph. "How've you been?"

"Pretty good, pretty good," answered Geeeeeorge. "I heard that you ran into Brrrobert so I thought I'd look you up. How you fixed for work Grrralph?"

"I've got an informal gig, right now," he answered. "Doesn't pay much, but the people are alright. You?"

"I'm working with Brrrobert and Ssssam," answered Geeeeeorge. "Doing some general mayhem and search and destroy for a real up and comer over Mordough way. You should join us! The pay's alright."

Grrralph hesitated before responding reluctantly. "I'm kind of committed right now. I might finally get those medical benefits I've been looking for."

"Your call," answered Geeeeeorge. "If you change your mind, you know where to find me. You were really coming along when everything fell apart last time. Imagine! Getting you in exchange for three Elves and a minor leaguer to be named later! You made us into a contender! Too bad it didn't work out."

Grrralph nodded as Geeeeeorge mounted his Nazcool steed. "You working with those Trolls down there?" Geeeeeorge asked. "They're sure going somewhere in a hurry! CYA as they say."

Grrralph looked down the hill at the horde of Trolls as the Nazcool took off. He ran back toward the camp as fast as his long legs would carry him. Oh man! There go my benefits! he thought as he went to the rescue of the Gallowship...

*This Muddled-Mirth weather forecast brought to you by your friends at, where we're partly right some of the time.

[ August 18, 2003: Message edited by: Mithadan ]
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