Tuesday, 9 January 2018

Adventurers Don't Get a Day Off

"Let's go spend our rewards" said the Mantrapper, "a much deserved chance to have some down time and enjoy the spoils of our last adventure". "I hope the people of Little Head-on-Ism are welcoming" added Chadda Blackmane dourly, "I want to rest up for a while".

Unsurprisingly, the town guard were already outside the fortifications of Little Head-on-Ism, awaiting the arrival of any outsiders. "Lo, who approaches?" shouted the Captain, broadsword resting over his shoulder. The insignia of the town's flag snapping in the breeze behind him.

"A weary band of adventurers, looking for refuge and an opportunity to spend some coin - we mean no ill" retorted Nicodemus. The captain looked the approaching band up and down, measuring them up, noticing their weapons and staffs with apprehension and looking for reassurance from his lieutenant. None came. The Chervah chirped up; "Look sir, you may want to examine the beast of burden's sacks they ha...." before Yaztromo quickly interrupted; "It will be to your benefit, my captain, to let us through without incident". The captain could not determine whether this was a threat or a bargaining opportunity and for a moment was caught between two emotions. In the silence his greedy nature surfaced and he held out his hand in anticipation. Expecting it to be crossed with gold as his comrades gasped and he felt the cold weight pressing in his palm, he looked down only to see his hand frozen in ice, unable to move it and now watching in horror as the ice slowly started to ascend and encase his shield arm. The magician's obvious power, deterred any aggressive response from the town's guard who looked from the kindly old wizard's smile to his piercing stare, they parted and stepped back, as did the captain who pleaded with the band to have his hand returned and for the creeping cold to persist. 

The adventurers entered Little Head-on-Ism with wry smiles as the captain tried to warm his hand down his pantaloons.

Clive the aged Barbarian had blunted his axe in the battle of the Privy Ledge and made haste to the blacksmith of Little Head-on-Ism for some sharpening. 

He also noticed a merchant selling his wares in the square and, like a magpie, could not resist the glint of a new handaxe. Coinage spent.

Meeting up with the others who had been scouting out the town for suitable places to eat and drink, the band of adventurers approached the Spotted Dog tavern:

The tavern was dark and dingy and sparsely populated at this early hour, as the patron warily eyes his new customers. Our adventurers ordered a feast of food and a deluge of ale finding an area to sit in the corner of the tavern.

Ale was drunk, a spit roast eaten and old stories re-told with embellishment as time passed. It was Chadda Blackmane that first noticed through his groggy haze, that Gareth Yoztromo has taken quite some time to go for a piss. A fruitless search instigated a few questions aimed at the barman who vaguely remembered the old wizard exiting outside a few minutes ago. The group stumbled outside looking for their companion.

Out in the daylight they were assailed by a sobering wailing noise combined with screams by some of the locals. The interpretations of the hysteria seemed to indicate that a monster was running riot in the old temple... A quick sprint to the site and the adventurers were confronted by a contrite Yaztromo, slightly sweating as his hand wavered in the direction of a lesser demon, held still in mid leap. 

"I came out for a piss and stumbled across this old temple; as I was leaning against the altar I must have awoken this foul beast. Could someone, um, help me please? Nicodemus noticed the damp patch on his colleague's robe with a knowing smile just as Clive unleashed his new throwing axe, spinning through the air and thunking into the demon's forehead. The wailing stopped and was exchanged by the hearty guffaws of Nicodemus' mirth, quickly joined by the other adventurers as they noticed the yellow stain on the front of the magician's robes. He shot them all a withering look. "No need to get pissy" laughed the Mantrapper oh "Piss off" smirked Yaztromo in return. "Some bloody day off" mumbled the morose Chadda Blackmane.

Well done if you stayed with me through my improvised story. I photographed a few set pieces on my new table, with no real story ideas in mind and then arranged them in this order and made up the above story in one sitting. Fun and self-indulgent? For sure.

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