Blotz
Synopsis
The story of a party of novice adventurers, following their exploits as they tackle the classic D&D module B1: Keep on the Borderlands. If this sounds familiar, it's the same story I tried last year, but this time I plan to get farther than 5000 words.
Excerpt
Chapter 2
Roymar Blanton was intensely uncomfortable. Every jostle and jolt of the carriage seemed to be transferred directly to his aching spine. He once again adjusted the less than ample cushions beneath his more than ample posterior. He winced audibly as the carriage shook once again.
"I swear to Malhavoc I'm not going to survive this ride Taffy, that fool driver seems intent on finding every divot and bump in this Gods forsaken road."
The click-clack of needlework stopped as his companion in the opposite seat looked up from her hoop.
"Roymar dearest... I have asked you to stop calling me that." She said earnestly, although the corners of her mouth turned up in a mocking grin.
"Forgive me... Is there any advice that the Lady Tathelefa Coriolanae Aelwithianaris Featherleaf, Comtesse of Dûn Forest and Heir to the Silver Glade, might be able to bestow on her poor suffering servant, Roymar Blanton, humble conjuror and mountebank?"
"Stop slouching, get some excercise, and cut back on the pastries."
Roymar self consciously straightened in his seat and regarded his companion as she set bat to her work, but not before flashing him a sly grin that touched her bright green eyes. He had been in love with that face for a decade now, and it remained unchanged from the moment they had met, in the scullery as new apprentices to the the Archmage, Querl Madsen. Straw colored hair framed a whippet thin face, her ears were long and thin and rose to a point just above the crown of her head. Lately she had been favoring midnight blue cloaks, this one with constellations hand stitched with care.
He cursed, silently this time, as the driver found yet another small boulder to run over, and adjusted his seat again. Tathelefa may not have been marked by the last decade of study, but for himself the years had indeed passed. He had come to Madsen's a chubby teen with a mess of stringy strawberry curls. The curls were already retreating from his forehead, he had taken to taming them back into a short tail. The chubby, well that had never quite gone away. Excercise was not his problem as his frame did carry a bit of muscle and he did not tire easily. He was just... Big boned as they say. And he did like his pastries.
"What are you thinking about, Roymar Blanton?" She arched a pencil thin eyebrow.
"I'm thinking about a warm fire, that last bottle of Pastore red we have tucked away in the luggage and a big feather bed."
"Well stop it..." she sniffed, "This is not some weekend lark into the countryside, we are now Mages of the first order and we should comport ourselves as such. We're on an important mission, one that was your idea by the way."
He couldn't tell if she was teasing or not. Her moods had been in flux lately, and Roymar was having trouble predicting her reactions as well as he done in the past. They had been friends and lovers for a decade. Was she pushing him away for some reason?
"If it had been up to you we would still be lounging about the tea rooms of Glisten, or highing off to your mothers court to show off your new tricks to the sprites and pixies. You learned from Madsen just as I, true Magic power must be wrenched from the world with practice and experience. Somewhere out there in the Wild, the spells of ancient wizards may lie hidden in some monsters lair, and I intend to find some for myself."
"You're just afraid of meaning my mother."
"Shouldn't I be? She's a Queen for fuck's sake, what does she think of her Heir taking up with a common moneychangers son from Krenchiky?"
"Pfft... It would take a an apocalyptic disaster to kill my mother, it will be literally centuries before I inherit anything more significant than her eyes and her taste in..." her ears perked up "What was that?"
Roymar was about to ask "What was what?" when the carriage lurched to a halt, almost tossing him into Tathelefa's lap.
"Ouch! I've pricked my thumb." she pouted and stuck the injured digit I her mouth. From outside there came a thunk, then a thump, followed by the sound or boots on the path. Roymar stuck his head out the window.
"What was it Roy?"
"That was our driver, he's running down the road back the way we came. Away from the brigands surrounding us."
"An ambush I assume?"
"Good assumption, the horses are completely calm, they've done this before."
"So even the livestock conspires against us."
From outside a rough voice called out,
"Out of the wagon now, we'll be having all yer valuables." Followed by the hoots and hollers of a dozen men.
"I suppose we should indulge them, Ladies first?"
"If you don't mind my dear, perhaps this is not the time for chivalry, stay behind me."
"Well that shouldn't be difficult."
#
The two mages emerged from the carriage to find themselves surrounded by a dozen men. They seemed the type who had lived a rough life and had no qualms about making the lives of others rougher in turn. They were clad in bits of mismatched armor and bearing bearing rough axes and a few short swords. Two of them held short bows, one of whom was fumbling to replace the arrow that was embedded in the seat next to where the driver should have been.
"Oooooh, and we'll be havin a bit of fun with the pretty pretty before we go." Their leader was the tallest bandit, six and a half feet tall, covered in scars with a broken jaw that obviously impaired his speech. His men bellowed their approval for this plan of action.
A boy had jumped onto the back of the carriage and cut the ropes holding the luggage on. Roymar's staff clattered to the ground at their feet.
"You heard them Roy, they just want to have a little fun, do you think we should oblige?"
"I think some 'fun' can be arranged Taffy" he replied as he deftly pulled a wax paper envelope from within the folds of his cloak and quickly flung a fine spray of dust from his outstretched fingers. With a Word there was suddenly a fan of flame jetting from his outstretched hands, directly in the faces of the two closest bandits, who fell bonelessly to the ground. The others on his side began to retreat, desperately trying to extinguish the flames.
"I thought I told you to stop calling me that..." the elf replied as she cast her own spell. With a Word and a scattering of sand the six bandits on her side slumped to the ground and began to snore.
"Awww... I thought we were going to have some fun, nighty nite boys." She blew them a pert kiss and turned to see how Roymar was faring.
The bandit leader stood dumbfounded, his still smoldering hair blown back in a comical crest. A greatsword was still sheathed on his back. His men were stumbling behind him, still smoking themselves.
Roymar had recover his staff, two yards of stout lacquered ash, covered in runes which began to glue an eerie blue as he raised it before him and began chanting arcane Words.
The bandits beat a hasty retreat, soon followed, then passed by their leader, his long legs sending him loping off into the distance.
"Bravo, bravo..." came a voice from above them. "I'm betting Big Barney wasn't expecting that!"
The two companions turned to regard the young brigand who hand climbed aboard the wagon. "May I descend?"
Without waiting for a response he flipped down from the roof, gracefully landing on his feet, which now that they had the time to check, the pair noticed that they were unshod and quite furry.
"Eager to join your companions, Halfling?" growled Roymar.
"Hardly my companions, my captors more like. Fletcher Green at your service. Those filthy creatures assaulted my caravan last fall. They kept me around as a pot boy, hoping to ransom me to my rich merchant family."
"Yet you are still here?" queried Roy.
"Maybe the ransom note has yet to arrive?"
With tight blonde curls and a round ruddy face, it was easy to mistake the Halfling for a child, a child Roy noticed, who was carrying a finely wrought short sword at his hip.
"In any case, I remain eternally in your debt for liberating me from those cads. If you are ever in Gullet, please do look me up. I should really be going, my family must be terribly worried."
As the little man made to depart a slim but razor sharp elven blade snicked from its scabbard and came to rest at the back of his neck. He froze.
"Not so fast my little friend, What do you think Roy?"
"I don't believe a word of it."
"Good sir, madam, I can assure you that I had nothing to do with planning this little ambush and furthermore..."
"Shut up, do you know the way to the Keep?"
The Halfling nodded.
"Can you drive this carriage?"
"Yes... But I have no desire to..."
"Bullshit. Someone set these brigands into a trap. If you're sincere about your eternal gratitude, then you'll replace the services of our lost driver. Now help me get these fellows tied up, they won't sleep forever." he looked over his should at the two who had fallen to his Flaming Hands spell. "Well I guess those two will."
"Mercy? That would be more than these lot would have shown yourselves"
"Well that's one of the many many ways that we are better than they. Now let's hurry."
Tathelefa looked on with a mischievous glint in her eye.
"Oh Goody! We get to keep him..."
