Log the Fifthteenth - Lucky
Chapter 1: Wherein the stealthy crew of the Lady’s Favour effect a bloodless rescue from the jaws of the Moabites and earn the gratitude of the hidden village
It grew dark while we waited in the trees outside the compound and the plans were as thick as the gnats who found every chink in our armour. Mistress proposed leading us into the Moabite compound dressed in our finest chains; I favoured swimming under the dock and sneaking onto shore, but in the end the captain’s vote counted strongest. We would, under cover of night and the magic of invisibility board Mr. Ogosh and soar like wee birds or giant, smelly, flying ogres over the fortifications and onto the observation rail of the temple.
The mission was clear. A secret entrance to Moab’s underwater lair was known, but not to us. He that knew, the leader of the hidden village, offered to reveal the secret in exchange for the rescue of his shaman’s son from the compound. We would know him to see him, we were told, and though some of us were skeptical, this proved to be true as north. The only problem left was how to get into the temple, where our objective was surely ensconced. We decided to cross that bridge when we reached it.
As soon as we cleared the walls of the village on our magic ogre, we realized that the temple would remain safe as houses from our desecrating natures, as our captive – who nearer resembled a hound than human - was caged in a bamboo prison near the center of the village. And with a mere 5 guards, we knew the caper would go off in fine fashion. Since our designated meeting point was on the walkway, anyways, we peeked in the windows of the temple. There was a ceremony of sorts in progress – more good news for us, since most of the population would be in attendance. Jee-to surely knew the purpose of the ritual, but - perhaps wisely - he kept his own council. Mr. Ogosh returned from his second trip, and with our group reconvened, we hastily altered our plan.
Myself, Mistress, and Kenby, as the lightfooted contingent of the crew crept down to the cage, where I alerted the shaman’s son to our presence and intent. The clever dog-boy lent his aid to our endevours with the cover of his body, and scratching with a hind leg to cover any noise we might make. When the vines securing the bamboo bars were sufficiently scored, our dear Mr. Ogosh freed the wall from its neighbours and the shaman’s son from his confinement. He then ferried Kenby and myself – all of us invisible – and the shaman’s son, who was not, to safety. Amid the chaos of the villagers, Ogosh had no trouble retrieving the remainder of the party from the compound, just as we once again began to take form, and we sped into the jungle where we remained as invisible as before.
Thus it was we returned to the hidden village, jubilant, with the anguished cries of some unknown, frustrated blood god sounding from the hills in the distance. And there was rejoicing and singing into the night for the return of the Shaman’s son, for he was favoured in the village for his keen nose, and uncommon sense, though all who lived there were so valued, as their differences knit them tight as bone. And we were wreathed in laurels, and impressed upon that this village would be as a home to us when ever one were needed, and never again would we be greeted with suspicion and poison’d spears.
Chapter 2: Of the decent into the earth. An encounter with a family of giants and an unexpected demise
Air spilled out of the cave like the rancid breath of some enormous carrion bird. It was the sort of smell that reminded you of the open sea, under a stiff breeze with the salt spray gently stinging your eyes. It was the only way to keep from gagging. The cave smelled of Jee-to sprayed by skunk. The passages were tight and winding; it was impossible to keep our bearings, and we moved slowly, to remain aware of any “surprises” that may have been left to discourage us. We discovered enormous rat warrens, and a shaft leading to a distant lower level, but the only real surprise was the shard of rock that grazed the back of my head.
Giants they were! Three of them, or six, depending on whether you counted torsos or heads. I was immediately put to mind of the story of Goldilocks and the three great big figging ugly bears who smelled of death and sauages. Giants, I say! I didn’t reach the little one’s belt, and even Ogosh barely topped the female’s great saggy tits. I don’t know where they were hiding, but the first I knew of them was the adult male’s massive mace exploding into the wall beside my head, sending shards in all directions. If I hadn’t kept my wits and dodged to the left, this would be a much shorter story.
While I was busy dancing with the male, the female ran up and put Mistress in a big, ol’ bear hug and started dragging her to the back of the cave. I managed to get one good cut across her hamstring before baby bear grabbed me about the waist and immediately started arguing amongst himself over which face was getting the tastiest bits. That was all the incentive I needed, and after several long and painful seconds, I managed to wriggle free. Even over the din of the combat, and the roar of the captain’s fire magic, I could hear Spako and Lucien – yes, Lucien – climbing over each other in an effort to reach the front lines. What’s a poor little elf to do? I tried to stay out of Kenby’s way as he and an invisible Mr. Ogosh slowly tore the giants apart – a truly heartless Kenby taunting baby bear about the tragic death of his parents. This little bastard deserved it; my ribs still hurt if I try to laugh.
That’s when I found Jee-to. He was sitting in a little pile of rock shards. There was a dent in the side of his head, and blood and brains on the wall behind him. Jee-to was still kicking when I found him, but I don’t know spit from healing. I screamed for a healer, but I guess everyone assumed I was calling for Jee-to, and he slipped away before anyone else reached him. After a short service, I dragged our healer’s body into a small pond at the rear of cave. It was the closest we could come to a sea burial, and that’s the way he would’ve wanted. Seems the giants had similar ideas; the pond was littered with corpses. I’ve been feeling sniffly lately; hope I’m not coming down with something.
I’ll never forget Dirty Jee-to’s last words, “Back off, Jack. It ain’t as bad as it looks”.
Chapter 3: The shaft. A raging river is crossed.
Bless Cap’n Bonny and his magic. As it turns out, the shaft was over a hundred feet straight down and a pain in the ass to climb. Fortunately, Cap’n knows a spell that thicks up the air and makes falling down a well just like falling through water. He put a fright into Mistress, though when he pushed her in afore he cast the spell. Who knew there’d be vipers at the bottom. When Mistress screamed, we all tumbled after, and when we got to the bottom, we made short work of the snakes. The passage out was far to small to be squeezing ogres trough without making paste, so Mr. Ogosh waited at the top with a rope to haul us out.
Mountain streams boil and rail and fall down waterfalls. Even in my magic coat, swimming across this stream was almost certain death. Fortunately, it wasn’t terrible wide, and I figured I could jump it. Just as my feet leave the ground though, Kenby grabs my boots, and I fall flat on my face. Seems he figures he’s got a better idea; we got this potion of spider climbing and Kenby drinks it down. Then he hangs over the middle of the river, and dangles Mistress’ whip for us to swing across. This turns out to be great fun, and we all cross without mishap, except for the cap’n, who forgot to let go. Kenby had to ferry him across, hanging ignominiously from the dangling whip.
“Lucky” Lucious, the Magpie, First Mate on “The Lady’s Favour”
It grew dark while we waited in the trees outside the compound and the plans were as thick as the gnats who found every chink in our armour. Mistress proposed leading us into the Moabite compound dressed in our finest chains; I favoured swimming under the dock and sneaking onto shore, but in the end the captain’s vote counted strongest. We would, under cover of night and the magic of invisibility board Mr. Ogosh and soar like wee birds or giant, smelly, flying ogres over the fortifications and onto the observation rail of the temple.
The mission was clear. A secret entrance to Moab’s underwater lair was known, but not to us. He that knew, the leader of the hidden village, offered to reveal the secret in exchange for the rescue of his shaman’s son from the compound. We would know him to see him, we were told, and though some of us were skeptical, this proved to be true as north. The only problem left was how to get into the temple, where our objective was surely ensconced. We decided to cross that bridge when we reached it.
As soon as we cleared the walls of the village on our magic ogre, we realized that the temple would remain safe as houses from our desecrating natures, as our captive – who nearer resembled a hound than human - was caged in a bamboo prison near the center of the village. And with a mere 5 guards, we knew the caper would go off in fine fashion. Since our designated meeting point was on the walkway, anyways, we peeked in the windows of the temple. There was a ceremony of sorts in progress – more good news for us, since most of the population would be in attendance. Jee-to surely knew the purpose of the ritual, but - perhaps wisely - he kept his own council. Mr. Ogosh returned from his second trip, and with our group reconvened, we hastily altered our plan.
Myself, Mistress, and Kenby, as the lightfooted contingent of the crew crept down to the cage, where I alerted the shaman’s son to our presence and intent. The clever dog-boy lent his aid to our endevours with the cover of his body, and scratching with a hind leg to cover any noise we might make. When the vines securing the bamboo bars were sufficiently scored, our dear Mr. Ogosh freed the wall from its neighbours and the shaman’s son from his confinement. He then ferried Kenby and myself – all of us invisible – and the shaman’s son, who was not, to safety. Amid the chaos of the villagers, Ogosh had no trouble retrieving the remainder of the party from the compound, just as we once again began to take form, and we sped into the jungle where we remained as invisible as before.
Thus it was we returned to the hidden village, jubilant, with the anguished cries of some unknown, frustrated blood god sounding from the hills in the distance. And there was rejoicing and singing into the night for the return of the Shaman’s son, for he was favoured in the village for his keen nose, and uncommon sense, though all who lived there were so valued, as their differences knit them tight as bone. And we were wreathed in laurels, and impressed upon that this village would be as a home to us when ever one were needed, and never again would we be greeted with suspicion and poison’d spears.
Chapter 2: Of the decent into the earth. An encounter with a family of giants and an unexpected demise
Air spilled out of the cave like the rancid breath of some enormous carrion bird. It was the sort of smell that reminded you of the open sea, under a stiff breeze with the salt spray gently stinging your eyes. It was the only way to keep from gagging. The cave smelled of Jee-to sprayed by skunk. The passages were tight and winding; it was impossible to keep our bearings, and we moved slowly, to remain aware of any “surprises” that may have been left to discourage us. We discovered enormous rat warrens, and a shaft leading to a distant lower level, but the only real surprise was the shard of rock that grazed the back of my head.
Giants they were! Three of them, or six, depending on whether you counted torsos or heads. I was immediately put to mind of the story of Goldilocks and the three great big figging ugly bears who smelled of death and sauages. Giants, I say! I didn’t reach the little one’s belt, and even Ogosh barely topped the female’s great saggy tits. I don’t know where they were hiding, but the first I knew of them was the adult male’s massive mace exploding into the wall beside my head, sending shards in all directions. If I hadn’t kept my wits and dodged to the left, this would be a much shorter story.
While I was busy dancing with the male, the female ran up and put Mistress in a big, ol’ bear hug and started dragging her to the back of the cave. I managed to get one good cut across her hamstring before baby bear grabbed me about the waist and immediately started arguing amongst himself over which face was getting the tastiest bits. That was all the incentive I needed, and after several long and painful seconds, I managed to wriggle free. Even over the din of the combat, and the roar of the captain’s fire magic, I could hear Spako and Lucien – yes, Lucien – climbing over each other in an effort to reach the front lines. What’s a poor little elf to do? I tried to stay out of Kenby’s way as he and an invisible Mr. Ogosh slowly tore the giants apart – a truly heartless Kenby taunting baby bear about the tragic death of his parents. This little bastard deserved it; my ribs still hurt if I try to laugh.
That’s when I found Jee-to. He was sitting in a little pile of rock shards. There was a dent in the side of his head, and blood and brains on the wall behind him. Jee-to was still kicking when I found him, but I don’t know spit from healing. I screamed for a healer, but I guess everyone assumed I was calling for Jee-to, and he slipped away before anyone else reached him. After a short service, I dragged our healer’s body into a small pond at the rear of cave. It was the closest we could come to a sea burial, and that’s the way he would’ve wanted. Seems the giants had similar ideas; the pond was littered with corpses. I’ve been feeling sniffly lately; hope I’m not coming down with something.
I’ll never forget Dirty Jee-to’s last words, “Back off, Jack. It ain’t as bad as it looks”.
Chapter 3: The shaft. A raging river is crossed.
Bless Cap’n Bonny and his magic. As it turns out, the shaft was over a hundred feet straight down and a pain in the ass to climb. Fortunately, Cap’n knows a spell that thicks up the air and makes falling down a well just like falling through water. He put a fright into Mistress, though when he pushed her in afore he cast the spell. Who knew there’d be vipers at the bottom. When Mistress screamed, we all tumbled after, and when we got to the bottom, we made short work of the snakes. The passage out was far to small to be squeezing ogres trough without making paste, so Mr. Ogosh waited at the top with a rope to haul us out.
Mountain streams boil and rail and fall down waterfalls. Even in my magic coat, swimming across this stream was almost certain death. Fortunately, it wasn’t terrible wide, and I figured I could jump it. Just as my feet leave the ground though, Kenby grabs my boots, and I fall flat on my face. Seems he figures he’s got a better idea; we got this potion of spider climbing and Kenby drinks it down. Then he hangs over the middle of the river, and dangles Mistress’ whip for us to swing across. This turns out to be great fun, and we all cross without mishap, except for the cap’n, who forgot to let go. Kenby had to ferry him across, hanging ignominiously from the dangling whip.
“Lucky” Lucious, the Magpie, First Mate on “The Lady’s Favour”
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