Pull My Finger…

Otto’s New Bone

Alas, I, Tyvernos Oriflamme, son of Oren Oriflamme, Magnate of the Magnetic Personality and Maven of Non-Ferrous Electromagnetism, Bestower of Invisible Wings, and Scion of Bennu in this epic, furry tail of an anatomically divine scavenger hunt…

Deep breath…

…am possessed of the distinct pleasure to have witnessed history in the making. Fortune smiles down upon our group and we are the Light’s own instruments of action. Our humble group of adventurers — chosen champions of our gods — represent all of the known, civilized world in an epic battle against the forces of darkness. Last night, the fates blessed CrIsis with the long, bloody arm of godly law. We were rewarded with another piece of Osiris’s boney chassis. We are the jenga-jivin’ archeological jigsaw-puzzle masters of cooperation, teamwork, and heroism. Tyvernos, Otto, Chip, Gavin, Overkill, Rell, Karma, Cava, Jaremy, Darksong, and Shelandra were the only people, in existence, who can claim to be present at the discovery of the Dread Pirate Jason’s fabled tomb and legendary trove of treasure.

The unearthing of Osiris’s Right Index Finger afforded us the second of many missing pieces and occasion to celebrate. Such an elegant and magnanimous finger was clearly made for a cavernous chunnel of a nostril. Osiris’s olfactories are, indeed, humbling.

I am, however, getting far ahead of myself. Otto watches me now with the sunken eyes of a drunken sailor. His implicit threat is one of violent domination and I fear he has already bargained for his rewards with Bennu. It is, as they say, only a matter of time. Give a dog a bone!

Much has happened since last a wrote. My Dragonese, for example, has improved to previously unknown heights. [Be aware that the rest of the letter will require a successful roll of the Literacy: Dragonese skill to decipher]. When I sat to pen the last entry in my memoirs Rell and Cava lay entwined in a Magic Net Titty-twister twirl — a tangle of limbs and a snarl of snaggling snuggles. Their affections, riotous in any other company, were still inappropriate in public and Chip had to intervene. I had never been privy to such amorous wrestling between two grown men and stood by to lend aid if it became necessary. Otto, on the other paw, stood transfixed with the glazed-gaze of a rabid-jowled hooch. His affectations are reprehensible. Regardless, during the midst of their bout Rell sensed two presences and loosed his axes like lightning at our guests. Not the cordiality afforded in an exchange of pleasantries but I believe that Rell can’t be blamed for the impetuous flight of his protective axes. We can’t all have an invisible friend. For shame!

The Syvan and Waternix introduced themselves as Darksong and Shalendra respectively and asked for both forgiveness and healing before Kchaketch continued with his preamble. Our principled natures warred with our discretion and Gavin stepped forward to bestow healing to the wounded Waternix. Shelendra took the business end of Rell’s axe to the face and instantly became a candidate for the disguise skill. Otto recommended as much to her the next time she achieves a new level of experience. But, I digress. Kazchatchekhctkch *ahem* It’s difficult to sound such consonant-filled calumny in phonetic Dragonese. So Kakaczechnya explained to us in resounding telepathy that the Mindprancer was keeping him alive. It was a powerful rune weapon that not only extended the user’s life but it also made him more alert, prevented him from ever sleeping, and now prevents him from even moving from that spot. He has basically grown into a part of the foliage. A part of me felt sorry for him but Otto reminded me that he had lived the honest, humble life of a Dragon’s Claw fisherman for many years before being washed up after a storm in front of the Dread Pirate’s tomb. Whew! That was a close one. I have the dog to thank for keeping things in perspective.

So Darksong and Shalendra each swore to avail CrIsis of their skills and aid in the recovery of the Finger in exchange for a share of the loot. It is difficult not to feel just the slightest tinge of selfishness at such a time. We had worked so hard and come so far — we had taken Jaremy under our wing and lobbied for him in the Wolfen court of his father. We had traveled for nearly a month and braved countless dangers and then, in the home stretch, two parasites had come to ride our canine coat tails into wealth and grandeur. Sigh. We are Scions of the Light. I keep reminding Otto that he is not supposed to wax selfish but I am under the distinct impression that he intended to sabotage me, himself, and split my share with the rest of the group. How many of them would go along with that? Chip? Hmm…not motivated by the material. Cava? Perhaps. Overkill? A pirate — of course. Gavin? The child couldn’t be trusted. He was clearly in league with the Bismarck. Karma, the paladin, would side with me. Rell on the other paw…

Jaremy has clearly outlived his usefulness. The twenty-six someodd day journey was made even more interminable by his incessant buffoonery and protracted whining engagements. I had considered bequeathing the dog to him for a spell. His father was right to send him to Stweeb; and now we’ve fallen right into another babysitting trap. Four Skulls, you have my respect, though I would call into question your choice of mate.

After a run-in with a boar, a nasty cold-snap, and an Oohgatar tundra-safari (where the gnome suggested that with a little leatherworking the carcass could be used as a makeshift litter to bear the burdens of the Dread Pirate’s hoard) spring had finally sprung on the 7th of Majestic as our group of intrepid adventurers looked down on a 900 foot precipice which ended in a seaside grotto. What secrets did the cave hold? What hidden treasures might be waiting inside? What foul monsters might be guarding said treasures? We found out soon enough.

Once in the cave it was dark and the rock was preternaturally smooth; the tunneling and subterranean architecture was majestic and…perhaps magical. Chip and I cast globe of daylight and globe of true sunlight respectively; I stayed toward the back of our little procession while Otto, my vanguard, stalked to the rear. To our growing suspicion it was still wet three-hundred feet down and still we traveled further. We came across a some rock significant enough to tell Gavin’s Masonry expertise that it was once a seawall. We replaced the sword. And we travel further into an opening! There was once ANOTHER sea wall here and then a stairwell. Onwards and upwards as Otto usually says!

We traveled further only to see a pond, rectangular pool, lots of sand, a grouping of huts and pillars and the remains of what looks to be a little fishing village inside the cave. The Dread Pirate died in a fishing village? During our exploration of the provincial underground hamlet I stubbed my toe on a protrusion that turned out to be a marble statue of an elf! It had been buried in the sand — probably a result of the tidal fluctuation. A glint of yellow sparkled and caught my eye. Oooh SHINY! Father, you would be so proud of me! Evidently I had stumbled upon a golden coin, encrusted with gems, with an emblem of a dragon imprinted on its surface. I remember such a coin from your study and instantly knew it to be a remnant from the Old Kingdom. It was one of your most prized possessions and now I, too, have one to call my own.

Out of nowhere Shelandra grabbed a sword from behind a pillar and started to shape-shift. Otto stood, agape and aghast, as she began to expand and rise and morph into something truly terrible. I heroically interposed myself between the cowering mutt and the oncoming danger to shield him from harm. She veritably erupted with muscles and her skin turned a murky crimson as she shed all her fur. Darksong shouted, “THAT POWER WAS TO BE MINE!!!” and began chanting what appeared to be a spell. Heavens!

Karma, our noble, holy paladin, began an epic charge that will forever echo in eternity. She careened headlong into the gargantuan demon, fearlessly, and skewered him with her holy, runic lance. Incredible! Her heroism and bravery inspired Otto to gratefulness…if not greatness. Hers was a charge the likes of which would have felled any normal mortal foe. The demon that was Shelandra, however, laughed it off and gave thanks to “the power of those who sleep.” As we approach and follow in the centaurian wake we heard a chorus of “reach down and pick me!” Multiple handles and hilts were sticking out of the sand and begging to be held by someone. I felt badly for the poor weapons. Here they lied, broken-hearted, came to slay, but only sharded. Holy crap! Weapons with personalities! Otto raised an eyebrow at a Rune Sling in particular but I was able to distract him with a sc00by snack for long enough to deter his troublesome meddling.

It was then that I beseeched the very Air itself to create an electromagnetic field at a point right on top of the gigantic demon. To everyone’s shock and awe trinkets, weapons, baubles, items, and anything with even a little ferrous metal hurtled through the air as quick as a lightning bolt toward that magnetic center — much like a black hole. Various and sundry items and came flying out of everyone’s hands or backpacks or the sand and slammed into our foe. Incredible! Then Darksong swung his psi-sword, and down the terrible beastie went!

CrIsis had vanquished a great menace!

When the demon expired the cavern began to fill with water at an alarming rate. Evidently, an invisible barrier the evil being had erected kept the current at bay while we fought. The entire cavern shivered with the reverberations and, sadly, it was then that my memory fades. The Bismarck claims that he saved my life after I fell unconscious and doggy-paddled, single-pawedly, up to the surface as the water-level rose in the chamber. I was later informed that my blacked-out fate had befallen both Chip and Gavin as well. Otto’s brandy cask would certainly come in handy.

I can only assume that no one drowned because, as I sit here, we are — to a man — whole and intact. Well, except for Darksong.

WE MADE IT OUT ALIVE!!!! But most of the group’s weapons and items are stuck down there — including our treasure! I continued to employ my Eagle Flight spells and the electromagnetic field to rescue as much of the treasure as possible. Once it has surface we may pick through it and divide the spoils as we are wont to do. I know, for my part in it, that my portion of the treasure will go directly to Bennu. That donation may take the form of another night at Anjeleena’s fine establishment but we each worship in our own ways. If I choose to commune with my god through the ministrations of a big-legged woman who ain’t got no soul then so be it.

As I write this a flying centaur is making trips with an aerial Chip back and forth to ferry — as two floating-asses — our rescued treasure from the confines of the cave. Never before had we more prestigious beasts of burden. Divine donkey and the Promethean Burro! Karma, in her return of one such trip, was pushed ass-first through the hole. How lovely! I’m tempted to think she’ll accompany me back to Anjelina’s if I entrust Otto to the madam.

CAVE-IN!!!!! Gotta run!!!!!

Written by Tyvernos on the 7th of Majestic, in the 68th Year of the Wolfen Empire.

Picture from Is Cool Art.

3 Responses to “Pull My Finger…

  • Wow, this guy is something else. I mean Ursus has his issues, but at least it seems he is coming from a place of sanity, with small spikes of craziness. Tyvernos, however, is full on bat shit crazy, with small shimmers of reality barely peaking through the fog of his shear lunacy.

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