Joined: 05 Sep 2005
|Posted: Mon Jan 02, 2006 7:11 pm Post subject: Chapter 12 - Witch ways
|Chapter 12 - Witch ways.
Cast (in no particular order):
Evil Homer as ‘The Paladin Hero’
Chainfire as Homer’s sword.
Araex as Homer’s steed.
DukeReg as Oaf Duke Reginald Percival Thunderking Harwobble the Fifth.
Key as the Magical dignified Chamber Pot.
D-Lotus as the Elven special forces commander
Sunbellina as Duke Reg’s little sister.
Solomon Birch as a misguided Drow.
Shanty as Captain Shanty.
Ingrothechundyer as Chundyer the Gnome King.
Sorrow as a mysterious robed figure.
Idea Master as his wretched minion.
Mother goose as a hydroose
Shady Stoat as The Twisted Witch.
Phang as The Dark Mistress
Muaddib as a wheely thing.
Lord of the Night as an Evil Demon Warrior.
Powers That Be as General Powers ‘the perverted.’
Luvd and Mr Moochie as ‘The Ravens’
Smee as the slug.
Dean as the Dean the Head.
Jnmrcs as the High Commander
Hyperion as the Mage.
Dobs as Dobs the Durungler.
Thornwood, Agus and Rani as the bandits.
Dobs the Durugler.
Dobs was a simple Durungler, he was found most days in his shop, durungling as he had always done, as had his father and his father before him, but the death of young Miss Zoolig at the hands of outsiders had enraged him.
Zoolig had a bit of a reputation he knew, but that didn’t mean she had to be done in like what she was. So when a lad had run through town saying he had seen more outsiders coming he had put down his Fungle*, picked up his heavy Gropple-stick** and joined the mob.
Now he stood behind Captain Shanty waving his Gropple, growling and shouting general mob shouts. It all seemed pretty straightforward this mob business, and Dobs was having a fair to middling good time, though of course he was angry at all these outside folks coming into Gungle and messing with the lasses an’ all.
So when the big man pushed forward an innocent looking little lass of about 10, dressed in lovely pink dress, he waved his stick and shouted, though a little uncertainly. New as he was to mobbing, he was fairly certain that little girls weren’t usually involved.
When the girl spoke he listened, though it was a bit hard to hear her over the noise from those behind him, who hadn’t seen the girl, on account of her short size an’ all.
“These nice men… (something drowned out as the local cobbler shouted a mild obscenity) …only want to help… (something) … so I am sure you… (something) Are you listening to me??”
The girl suddenly stamped her foot in anger, realizing the mob was not paying her much attention. That’s when the Thing happened.
The little girl’s lovely pink dress turned black. The sky darkened, or so it seemed to Dobs, and a sudden wind sprung up, dry and cold. The air around her blurred and then seemed to tear. Through this tear in the air came forth a number of horrible creatures, worse even than the ones Dobs had seen after a heavy session on the Gungle juice.
Once had a large eye and twisted mouth, others seemed to be melted and deformed. They stood behind the little girl, who was standing tapping her foot. Dobs fell silent, as did the rest of the mob.
Once there was quiet the girl spoke again: “Right then. Now I have your attention, please listen. These kind people only want to help” she gestured behind her, seemingly at the creatures who were shuffling around slowly and drooling.
“I think you should be nice to people who visit your town, don’t you? My mummy and daddy always said I had to be nice. Don’t you agree?”
The things behind her growled, and looked at the mob. Dobs nodded his head so hard it nearly fell off. A chorus of “yes miss” could be heard from behind him.
“Right then. So please let my brother and his friends go on okay? And be nice!”
Dobs blinked. Suddenly the air was back to normal, and the little girl was just a little girl in a pink dress. Behind her the people she had come into town with seemed to be waiting patiently, as if nothing unusual had happened. He lowered his Gropple-stick and shuffled off feeling slightly foolish. He decided then and there to stick to durungling and leave other people to their business.
*An essential tool to the good Durungler.
**The long handled sort, not the short type.
“You see? I told you sending out the little girl would appease the crowd. Who could resist a sweet young girl like her? Especially in that lovely pink dress.” Homer was pleased by the success of his suggestion. He had managed to diffuse a possibly nasty situation with no fuss and bother.
Duke Reg beamed. “Little sis good girl!” He patted her head, nearly hammering Sunbellina into the floor as he did so.
“Did I do good?” she beamed up at him. “Will you buy me that pink ribbon for my hair now? I love pink!” she simpered, clutching little hands together infront of her in a cute manner.
“Of course! And a new pair of pink shoes for you!”
“Thanks big brother!” Sunbellina said, and skipped off happily to play with Key again.
Homer meanwhile had approached the figure that had been standing in the front of the mob. She had introduced herself as Captain Shanty, and had given Homer the reason for their unfriendly welcome.
Homer soon was in the alley where the unfortunate Miss Zoolig had met her grisly end. Even for a hardened veteran such as he the sight was not pleasant. He blessed the area with the Power of Good and retreated out into the street.
“So you know the person who did it?” asked Captain Shanty.
“The stench of the hells is upon this place” Evil Homer replied. “It was no mortal that performed such foul deeds here, but a demon of hell, and I think I know who.” He paused a moment, deep in thought. “You say this man in gray passed through here last night?”
“In that case we cannot tarry here, but press onwards, for I fear the Evil that has struck your fair town is heading towards that which we seek.” He turned to Shanty. “I vow we will avenge the young maid for you.”
“No need” said Shanty, “I am coming with you.”
“You have no need to do that” replied Homer.
“I am the Captain of the militia here, it is my sworn duty.”
Homer shrugged, “I will not say your presence will be unwelcome, for we need all the aid we can get. Come, we must gather supplies and move on…”
Thornwood the Bandit.
It was evening as the two figures walked into the ambush. The leader of the group, though group was stretching it as there were only five in his gang, and old Photinia was off visitin’ her sick grandmother whilst Tremor was back at the camp preparing supper.
Still, Thornwood was not overly worried. With Agus behind him wielding his trusty cutlass, and Rani off to the side with his longbow, as well as his long saber they would surely awe these two ragged travelers into submission. Thornwood even though he had seen a goose behind the robed one. Good eating on those he thought as he stepped into the path.
“Greetings gentlemen. Please do not be alarmed, if you cooperate you will walk away aliv…” He trailed off. Things were not quite as they had seemed when he had spotted the two from the trees walking along the path. The leader was robed, but no trace of his features could be seen under the hood. The one behind him was a ragged wretch. Indeed, he seemed so ragged Thornwood was not sure how he was still walking.
And the goose! Whoever had heard of an eight headed goose!!
The one infront spoke. “You were saying?”
Thornwood rallied. He still had Agus and Rani backing him up and his trusty saber had not let him down yet. “I said hand over your valuables. Do it now. And you” he pointed his sword at the robed one. “Pull down your hood. I like to see who I am robbing.”
“I don’t really think…”
“No arguments! Do it. Now!”
The hooded figure sighed and said “as you wish.” So saying he complied, and slowly pulled down his hood.
Thornwoods eyes tried to crawl around to the back of his head so they wouldn’t have to look any more. Sweat beaded his brow as his brain screamed at him to stop it. Then the world around him went dark and he swayed where he stood, stunned. A few minutes later, when he came to, the robed figure was once again hooded. “I took no pleasure from that you know,” he said.
Thornwood screamed. “Shoot him! Shoot them all!” and an arrow fired by Rani sprouted suddenly in the middle of the figures chest. The figure looked down at it and sighed. “You shouldn’t have done that you know.”
Suddenly Thornwood realized the second, wretched figure was nowhere to be seen. Then a rasping low voice breathed in his ear. “Looking for me?”
The bandit was a trained warrior, so he turned, swinging his sword as he did so. It bit deep into the man’s side. No blood spurted. The man simply looked at him with yellow and red eyes.
“My turn.” Said Idea Master and reached out a gnarled hand…
Sorrow watched as Idea Master and Mother Goose set upon the bandits. The poor humans never stood a chance, but it helped The Master relieve a bit of tension, so it wasn’t a total loss.
When the screams had died away and it was over Sorrow started along the road again. “Come on, we don’t want to be late and miss them.
“Bah. There is no hurry.” Said Idea Master. “Besides,” he looked down at the body he was crouching over, “it’s been some time since I ate well.”
Sorrow shook his head. “Just don’t be too long. Catch up when you are finished.” He walked off up the road, the sound of tearing flesh, biting and slurping fading behind him as he went.
Lord of the Night.
The small cottage stood in the middle of the valley, an idyllic setting in lush woodlands. A neat garden out the front, with a well in the center. Small herb and vegetable plots surrounded it and a narrow windy path led to a wooden privy at the rear. An ideal spot for someone to live a simple life.
Inside The Lord of the Night wasn’t finding it so ideal. He stopped for a moment, growling as he looked around the remains of the room. He had not been pleased to find a note apparently addressed to him that read:
“Demon: Sorry, I have popped out. Back in another life. – The witch.”
He had vented his rage by smashing the place up, but now he stopped and sat down at a desk. Papers were scattered around in a random fashion. Lord picked one up and read it. A recipe for making some sort of potion. At the bottom one ingredient was circled.
Lord sighed and reached for the crystal ball that had been left on the desk. Time to check in for orders.
The cloudy image cleared to reveal Phang holding a knife over some naked young woman strapped to a metal frame. “What do you want? I am busy!”
“The witch is not here. She was expecting me it seems.”
Phang pursed her lips in an angry pout, stamped her foot and slashed the woman’s breast angrily with the knife. “Damn!” She wrinkled her brow in thought. “Alright. Wait there, I will get back to you.” And her image winked out.
Lord sighed, a purely theatrical gesture as he had no need to breath. He looked around the desk again and spotted a jar half hidden behind a book. He reached for it and read the label. “Hmmm” he said and unscrewed the top. Leaning back on the chair he put his feet up on the desk and waited for Phang to contact him whilst munching away on the pickled newt eyes.
Evil Homer lead the way up the path. The terrain had turned into light woodland, and the path was winding its way up a hill.
Behind him came little Sunbellina, wearing her new Pink bow in her hair and riding on Key, who seemed to have taken a shine to her. Near her, looming protectively over them as ever was Duke Reg. Solomon was walking his horse a little way ahead of him, the windy path having slowed his progress a little. Bringing up the rear D-Lotus and Captain Shanty were having a discussion about hair styles and makeup.
“Look! A little rabbit!” said Duke Reg suddenly, and stopped, pointing at a white rodent which had suddenly dashed out ahead of them and stopped in the middle of the path.
“That’s not a rabbit!” said Sunbellina. “Look! There is another one! And another!”
Indeed, it seemed like a nest of Stoats had suddenly gone mad in their path. They swarmed together, more and more joining the others. Suddenly Homer saw they weren’t just crowding together, they were merging. As more furry white animals poured out of the brush, they were melting together, growing higher and higher. Slowly a shape could be made out. An old woman, stooped and bent over.
As the last Stoat rushed into the path and merged into the mass, the whole molten stoat pile suddenly acquired colour and texture.
There before them, holding a staff was a haggard old witch, bent over and glaring at them with one good eye.
“Cool!” said Sunbellina.
“Hahaha!” Cackled the witch. She held out a hand infront of her. “I believe you were…oh damn it!” The hand she was holding out was, in-fact, a foot. “Bloody baby boils! Why does that always happen?” She glared at the misplaced appendage and slowly it melted back into a white mass, reforming and solidifying again until it was a wrinkled hand. “That’s better.” She muttered to herself.
“Ahem” said Evil Homer stepping forward. “My name is…” He was cut off.
“I know who you are. I know who all of you are, probably better than you do.”
“You have the advantage on us Madam.” Said Homer carefully.
“I do that.” The old witch hobbled forward and looked him up and down closely. “Hmmm, seen worse material I suppose.” She puttered round to little Sunbellina and pointed a finger. “I will be speaking to you as well little one, but later.”
She turned and addressed Homer once again. “Paladin. You come to me seeking a way to defeat evil. Know you I am the guardian of the Black Heart. The one item that can defeat the Dark Queen. However, for me to help you I must know Who you are.”
“I am Evil Homer Ms Witch…” began Homer.
The witch cut him short again. “I know your name buffoon. I want to know you! You must ask a question of me. The question you ask will determine how much I may aid you in your quest, for it will determine your character, or so I judge.”
“I see.” Said Homer, who didn’t.
“You only have one chance young man. So ask wisely, and do so now, my bunions are killing me!”
Homer rubbed his chin. The fate of the world could hinge upon a single question. What should he ask of this old hag? What should he ask???