Mmmm…. yes it was a dark and stormy Tuesday… or maybe it was a Thursday… which is essentially the same thing. I had been traveling with my 2 dwarven compatriots and a pointy eared woman… She was brash and thin with a soupy disposition.
We were transporting this fantastic wheeled box, drawn by two fat, giant dogs… much to my dismay my friends will not let me look inside… I’m positive my lucky shoe is inside, the trite bastards.
Anyways… I was having this marvelous conversation with a bit of Sage about the importance of flutes in deep troll hedgrogody… when the pointy ear bitch shouted something about the trees ahead speaking…
Very troubled I sprang over to the moving wheeled shoe prison and pressed up against it, hoping my Swift Heeled Clog could whisper advice through the walls…alas I heard no such notation so I sprang into heroic action… for my bumbling companions can’t be counted on to smash a briggle fly.
As I approached this haunted gale of twiggy fiends I remembered the old mantra of Obryn Hogsbreath…
“Bark that talks indeed is dark,
A tree needs not to ask please,
to dispatch use flame not freeze!"
I hurled a tremendous torrent of flame and smoke into the nearest towering behemoth… its fell asunder and a tiny green child pooped out.
About this time Rumble Hoof or whatever the second dwarf goes by this moon ran into action with “D”jangus close behind with the grumpy female, but neither kept the green imp from hitting me in the chest with its metal broom handle… which oddly splattered me in the warmest of paint…
I continued to burn these hellspwan with the fury of Furaga… and was marveled at the continued appearance of these impish green children living within.. perhaps the forest demons ate them whole? I contemplated stopping the purge and studying this phenomenon, but time is of the essence if I am to recover my shoe from these brigands. Always rustling through my belonging… shouting “this is mine!” or “Where did you find this?” or “You have to feed animals you keep as pets.”… BAH! Nonsense I say.
Where was I … OH! Yes… so rather then let these ghouls plague the temporal realm I followed the Scrolls of Prentenious Fumagatos…
“Suffer not the witch or demon nor women or slave,
for it is from them the world must be saved.”
With much bravery and liturgical prowess… I Shot a pillar of righteous flame into the canopy of evil leaves… At which point I disrobed completely as it was getting quite hot in the midday sun.
Then “D”jangus… the fat oaf, runs up and hurls one of these green urchins into my arms… then just runs off shouting something about an Ox.
Note: look up this mystical beast next time you are in town
The creature was limp with defeat and shame… so I decided to show it some grace and teach it a nice Shpaxian Waltz from the far reaches of Ettottotton.
The smoke from the small campfire behind us added a nice ambient environment for this youth to be cultured.
My friends came rumbling out of the now pleasantly ablaze forest with the marvelous shoe prison and retrieved the green one from me. Im afraid it learned nothing from the encounter and I strongly suspect the little price was asleep… the whole time!
Thoroughly exhausted from leading this holy charge I layer down in the cool grass and drifted off to sleep… using the ancient Giant sleeping paradigm to assist me in my slumber.
“Crush one, crush two and doggle de foo,
crush there crush four……”