Verbena the Illusionist

[MitzaVolchenko]

Let me begin my tales by saying I AM NOT A THIEF!

There, that is better. So many of you big folk are so quick to jump away crying thief just because someone is short! I suppose I can't really blame you that much given that so many of the halfling "men" in these parts are really boys parading around in men's clothes taking anything they can carry that isn't nailed down!

So I wake up in this crazy town, West Styne, I think it is called. Any road, I wake up with no idea how I got there, but hey, one town is as good as the next so long as folks are willing to toss a coin for a good street show.

I wander up by the fire to see what is going on about and maybe, I think to myself I'll do the short show and get a bit of coin in my far too empty purse.

There is a small crowd and all of 'em are wearing brain boilers. Well, maybe their brains are boiled enough to not realize how generous they're being.

I start my pitch, you know "Come one, come all! Be amazed by the Skill and Wonder of Verbena the Mistress of Illusion!"

Nobody even turns to look, so maybe they don't like magic? Oh well, I can at least ask for directions back to the Dales...

Soooo after an unpleasant conversation about me being a thief, WHICH I AM NOT!, some guy in a brain boiler shoves a bag of money at me telling me to take it that way rather than taking it out of his pockets. At least the cash flow problem is solved for now.

Then this dwarf decides that I'd make a good toy and starts the divine spell abuse routine...you know the one, harm a gal then heal her. That is one dwarf that is gonna be seein' things that ain't there when I find him again!

And then, the chicken takes offense and starts chasin'
me. A chicken fer gosh sakes! Maybe this town isn't for me...

So I then I'm carefully listening in on a conversation in town about this other city...bright and shining Castille! Unfortunately they are a little short of details aobut how to get there, and that stupidportal won't talk to me about the place. No matter, I am a travel hardened halfling! I can find it without help!

[MitzaVolchenko]

~The Road to Castille~

Castille, shining crown city of King Merrick Wend, filled with wondrous sights and exotic foods and plenty of folks to spare a coin for a good street performance...

That is just the place for Verbena, Mistress of Illusion!

Now to find it...

The folksin West Styne being unfriendly and for the most part unappreciative of a good show, I decided to make my way to the crown city, afterall if there are fairs and the like, that is where they would be, right?

I set off looking for directions. THe big folk don't like me just because I am short, so I figure maybe I can find someone short to ask. And wow, just my luck a goblin in East Styne! After being forced to dispatchhis friends, the sniveling little guy decided that talking was better than me putting another arrow in his hide.

"Where do I find Castille?" I growl in my most intimidating voice. He looks frightened, but that could be the dire badger that I am holding back from eating him.

"Slobbo not know thisss Casstilliy thing. Please, please, no hurt Slobbo! Slobbo know who you can ask! Please no hurt! Keep nasty badger thingy away from Slobbo. Here take Slobbo last gold piece. Take Slobbo's dagger...good dagger took it from dead mage, but Slobbo no kill mage, found body. Slobbo swear!" the stinky little fellow went on in that vein for some time before I got bored of listening andmy arms got tired and the badger escaped my grip. Well, I did give Slobbo a nice burial anyway. But he did say that he thought that the folk in the mountains would know the way.

So after buying myself a nice warm cloak and some other travel stuff, I set off for the mountains. Glad the cloak is warm because it is COLD there. And what do I find for folk but Ogres! Now I am not afraid of many thing, but Ogres' d make a snack of me! So doing my best impressionof a patch of snow I sneak past them and overhear that there are cow folk inthe farmlands...and I think to myself, maybe they'll know how to get to Castille...

If you have ever heard the phrase "take the bull by the horns" I have to say that the moron that thought that up had never seen a minotaur! I wlaked up to them happy as can be to ask directions, afterall they live on a farm, surely they are nice agrarian folk. Wrong!

Up charges this huge fellow with his head down trying to gore me. So quick and nimble like, I scrambled up onto his back and got the ride of my life! He charged all over the farm trying to shake me loose and bellowing like the world was endin'! I was getting awfully tired by then so I think to myself, this is no good! Then a glint of moonlight on nose ring gave me an idea!

Quick as a mongoose after a snake, I slip my sash off and run it through his nose ring and give it a good hard jerk, "Whoa big fella!"

Darn near fell over his head when he stopped short, but I have to say that he was more amenable to talking with my sash through his nose ring. He even, nice fella that he was, gave me a ride to the edge of the desert and directions to head east. Can't say that he'd be so nice again though, he was mighty sore at me for jerkin on his nose ring.

In the oasis, I spoke with a kindly merchant named Habib, a thousand gods bless his house! He showed me about the safe wter to drink and was kind enough to dispatch the giant bugs that tried to eat me. If you ever need anything, Habib is your man!

Sooff I set sneaking through the moonlit desert quieter than a mouse. Let me tell you, there are some weird and dangerous critters out there, though I think I may go back after some of those gems sometime!

At last I sight the high walls and gates of Castille! It shines like a pearl waiting to be plucked from an oyster rising majestically over the desert wastes. Surely, there I will find an appeciative audience for my skills!

[MitzaVolchenko]

~Working for the Man~

I shall start by saying, "I AM NOT A THIEF!"

Now that we all understand that, I can tell you the story of a small band of fools who decided to try their hand at working for the Crown...

I was as I always am, in search of an audience. Having found that the glittering jewel of the kingdom, Castille, is really a ghost town with a few poor merchants and a lot of dour faced guards (not you Sir Percy, you are a very stand up fellow), I decided to start a tour of the kingdom's inns. Afterall, people happy with drink are usually generous when good entertainment is provided.

So after putting on the Tale of the Slave and the Djinn for the desert crowd, I ventured back to the beginning and found West Styne as drab as ever. Everyone was still wearing brain boilers and shouting thief at anyone shorter than an elf.

Ahhh, but there was an interesting whisper...it seemed that Ventrick was actually making good his promise to secure Whillem as a little world for the littluns...maybe that has promise! But first the harbor and Styne village. Who knows, maybe I'll make a home in Whillem? But first, some coin. I know the less honest tendencies of my folk, and there would be no going to Whillem without enough coin to spare to the local head honcho!

So I strolled my way to the inn up in Styne Village whistling a happy tune in spite of my lean purse. Once again I swung on my trusty warm cloak and trudged for the inn. The warmth that flooded me when I set foot inside was to be short lived I am afraid, but I get ahead of myself here.

I opened the door and stepped inside flourishing my cloak and producing a tiny whisp or fae light to get the patrons' attention as the warmth of the place began to thaw my poor frozen feet. What luck! A crowd!

"Is anyone here interested in a show? Verbena, Mistress of Illusion and Actress Extraordinaire is here to shock and amaze you!"

Well nobody threw anything at me, though I did my usual cartwheel to avoid things just in case, and a few folks even looked interested. So I continued with a few minor antics, and lo and behold a small crowd gathered up.

Unfortunately as I was proceeding with my pitch and calculating what I could expect inthe way of tips in my mind, Sir Ganfry walked up neat as you please and interrupted me.

When stompning my feet and producing more little fireworks did nothing to draw the attention back to the show, I joined the others in listening to Sir G's plea for aid. I was pretty bored with it by the time he mentioned payment...no specific numbers, but any coin to a lean purse is a good meal!

So we all agreed to be briefly employed by the Crown. Of course had I listened better, I might have decided that throwing myself on the charity of Lord Ventrick was a better idea...it seemed that the restless dead inthe local crypt were gettinga bit uppity and Sir G couldn't spare the men to take care of it. Well I have taken on my fair share of zombies, so surely there was no reason to worry...

Not knowing the others except from having studied them a bit as a possible audience, I slipped along with them quietly at first. An elf in a brain boiler by the name of Quarion Xiloscient and another thug type by the name of Bren Wolworth seemed to be taking charge, and the rest of us just trailed after them.

We enter the crypts, which WERE warmer if smeelier, dustier, and darker than the outside and what do we find but a horde of zombies all "uuuungh...arrrgh....aaahhing" about. We made quick work of them. I mean really, Zombies? No sweat. They are slow and stupid just like the tall'uns they were in thier lives.

As we were wiping the zombie goo off our blades, the real fun began! A lich appeared and for a miracle didn't start by turning us to dust and hten forming us up into little bitty gargoyleque pets to suffer an eternity of dmanation for his amusement. Instead he just told us to go away and made a few snide remarks. I'd love to quote him, but I owuldn't want to scare any children reading this missive.

Needless to say we were all fearless! Like roaring hunting lions...okay, I tried to get them to go quietly andnot roar so much...we set out deeper into the crypts.

Did I mention that those heavy helms boil your brain? The crazy tall'uns insisted on bashing down doors! Have you any idea how uch *winces* noise that makes? Horde after horde of zombie attacked us from all directions drawn by the racket.

Me and the other member of the short folk, Dram Buler, did alright by just not getting in the way and keeping everything on the hush hush side. And the ladies, they at least showed alittle good sense, but men? What can ya do with 'em? *I recommend stout chains and frequent doses of laudanum in their food*

So we reached the door to the second floor to find it locked, which of course meant more bashing, and at last when that didn't work, the tall'uns got out of my way to go bully beat the second lich. By the time they had taken his key, I was standing next to the unlocked door. Sheesh! I may not be a thief, but my fingers are as clever as any one of the wee folk's are!

Into the depths we boldly ventured, afterall other than a couple of casualties, that lovely Ahlin and her pets being the most frequently injured, we were kicking undead arses all over the crypts...

So after a bit of confusion and debate on which way to go, oh yes,and one nasty fight with some really nasty things I don't have names for, and me running VERY low on scrolls to raise the dead, it was decided that we would go south from the cross corridors and that I would open doors while the others took care of the zombie infestation.

So I was working on a particularly nasty lock with some ugly little traps. I glanced back down the corridor and saw Lilith and Mallo fighting back to back and wondering where the others were, but my attention was on the lock and the nasty spikey traps, so I looked back to what I was doing. When I looked up again, I was all alone in the depths of the crypts. Bloody Ninth Hell! Always forgetting the littluns!

That room had some nice treasure, but still, there I was alone in the crypts. I started to creep along the hall in the direction I figured they had to have gone and was about to give up and use magic to send myself home when Bless the Light, Ahlin came strolling up to show me the way. We even found poor Dram and raised him before we caught up to the brain boiled boys up front.

So we made our way losing track of the hours...it may have been days we wandered down there! Oh but our patience finally paid off, for we found a villager cowering in a corner! he was most enlightening and told us that soem invulnerable lich named Lord Mana was causing the ruckus. And to prove his point, that lich vaporized the poor chap.

*I am sorry dear reader, but here I must lay this tale aside for a bit. Some man in a brain boiler is offering me a mighty fine price for opening a door somewhere out in the desert for him*

[MitzaVolchenko]

Whew! I apologize to you my readers and ofcourse my dearest journal that I have been so long in getting back to this tale. You see there was this trial, and a kngiht losing his spurs, and one of us littluns being stupid, and well you get the idea...A woman's work is NEVER done!

So where was I? Ahh yes, that lich had just vaporized our informant, poor man.

As villains are wont to do he had echoed out some "You'll never win, why don't you just lay down and die?" sort of thing or another which of course had half our number quaking and the other half laughing.

Being that we had no choice really but to go on we all staggered out into the hall feeling a bit tired, only to find the strangest of creatures there...someone called it a demilich, but really it was a skull floating about with pink flames for hair. It was quite eerie.

Now it seemed that this fellow was used to being King of the Crypts and wasn't liking Lord Mana horning in on HIS haunts, so he was willing to help us but being a bored,evil, and ageless creature he wanted to play a game first.

The rest of them were all apprehensive and shaking with fear at the 'win or die' coditions, and I swear my own erstwhile friends were going to kill me when I started to get warmed up to the idea. I mean how often do you get to ha ve a friendly (or not so friendly) game of chess with an undead creature of immense power?

So after many unfriendly glares and unkind comments, I do think you guys owe me an apology! The game commenced...and the Riddling began. You know, I think that I now have ABSOLUTE proof that helms are really just buckets that boil your brains. I have never seen such a panicky and uncreative group in all my life!

"So can we have three guesses at your riddle your evil flaming pinkness?" I asked, just to be clear on the rules.

He seemed to think a moment, though there wasn't anything like a brain in his skull, and replied with a nice evil rasp, "Yes, you shall have three guesses, one for each of the riddles. If you answer incorrectly, you ALL DIE!!!"

For someone who wanted us to get rid of his rival he was very intent on the kiling us for failure part of the deal, but I was so excited to be playing a game, that I rather missed the absolutley poisonous looks the others threw at me.

"So bring on the riddles, old chap! We are prepared to defeat you," I was positively crowing with delight by then. I have no idea why my enthusiasm wasn't contagious.

"Very well, here is your first riddle," it intoned sonorously, "Looking at these right will lead the way so long as you seek not by day. "

The others began to rustle about a bit, and I did give them at least three breath sto offer a suggestion before answering "Stars."

He seemed a bit upset that we got it so quickly, but he was a monster of his word and gave us the second riddle, "Each morning I appear to lie at your feet, all day I will follow no matter how fast you run, yet I nearly perish
In the midday sun."

It cackled a bit at its cleverness and I just started to dance with delight and throw shadow puppets of monsters eating the flaming pinkskull shadow as I cried out, "Shaodw! You are a shadow!"

I think the others might have been about to faint, but they bore up and after a little grumbling that was most unkind about us littluns, they gave over and smiled a little as the skull thing sounding rather cross replied, "Correct, but this one will surely be your demise.

"You'll have to swim to get here, or at least try,
A place to rest, the name does imply,
Try to sleep here however, and you will die,
As looking up from here, you'll see no sky."

I quit dancing.

I had never heard that one before, soI looked at the others and they all were rather shaking hteir heads grimly and muttering. I thinkAhlin looked like she was going to faint and Dram like he might run screaming. The big brain boilers all started putting their hands to their swords as if that might help against a flaming pink skull!

"Wait, wait, wait...give me a moment to think!" I cried. Then like the flare of a torch in the dark, my pure and unadulterated genius came through, and wihtout hesitation and possibly while sticking my tongue out at the critter I cried, "Riverbed!"

If flaming pink skulls could have apopleptic fits, I believe that one might have right then and there! I am not entirely sure what passed for a moment or two after that as I was busy doing a victory dance, but when I stopped and looked around, the skull thing was gone, and Quarion had gotten this odd glowing gem that was to make Lord Mana vulnerable.

I couldn't have been more amused and pleased with myself, but you know, even though I saved the bacon, those folks were all business and doom and gloom still.

We moved off into the crypts looking for this Mana fellow and lo and behold not much further along we found him and his little friends.

I must say that at some point I rather got knocked out, but I do remember awakening to raise a few of our dead and watch Quarion, he is quite imposing when he tries, crush the gem in Lord Mana's presence and then we all fell upon the dastardly lich slaying it with ease.

He left behind some parchment bits which we picked up to take back to Sir Ganfry as proof to get paid. Which by this time I was most ready to do.

I was tired and getting just the least bit grumpy at being ignored, used, and abused by my companions. A nice inn with a good meal, a hot bath, and some mulled wine were foremost in my head as we headed out. So I packed up my tools and was most relieved to see that Sir G ahd come to meet us near the entrance rather than us having to tramp all the way back to West Styne to get paid.

I think it was Ahlin that gave him the note from some woman to the lich saying that he was to guard the "Word of Power" well, but I really was quite focused on pickingup my pay and getting on to that hot meal, so I am afraid you shall have to ask someone else what exactly it said.

Sir Ganfry kept insisting that we HAD to have this "Word of Power" and that Sir Mackenzie must have it. That was the point when my temper was just plain gone and I demanded that he pay us for the work he hired us for than offered to go back after his precious "Word of Power" for an additional fee. He at least had the grace to look chagrined and admitted that we had indeed solved the undead problem. The pay wasn't bad, and added to what I had scrounged from old chests in the crypts, I have to say it was amost profitable trip.

After some not so tearful or heartfelt fare wells, we went our seperate ways...

~End of Working for the Man~

[MitzaVolchenko]

**secret chapter**

((this is an IC story but not to be taken as IC information as there won't be any actual paper copies of it until Verbena is certain that none of her erstwhile adventuring companions are still alive or know where she might be found))

Off I strolled from the Village Crypts nearly skipping with joy. As I passed the crypt gate I threw myself into a grand slide on the ice and finished with a somersalting hand spring into a grand pose. I must surely be the cleverest of the littluns. Those brain boiled fools wouldn't see someone stealing hte chair out from under them!

I couldn't believe my luck. None of them even remember me walking up plain as day and picking up that scroll much less me tellin 'em it was a spell of some sort!

Now, what to do with it? Sir G seemed to think that Sir Mack might really want it...and what a wealthy and noble Knight wants, maybe he'd be willing to pay for?

A little niggling voice inthe back of my head kept saying all sorts of silly things, like you shoud just give it over or at least get a bonus on the reward for you AND your friends. I quickly dropped an anvil on that voice. My "friends" had not been very friendly to me at all, and a starving actress would rather be a comfortably fed and housed one!

I went in search of Sir Mackenzie but not seeing him about, I left word that I was looking for him and went to do a little shopping and get a good meal. A bit later I found him in that drab horror of a town, West Styne. He was talking to his daughter and when I told him I had PRIVATE business, she threw a bit of a fit, though not that bad of one, but she did seem to have her nose out of joint that I didn't want any company for this chat.

We went over to the inn to talk, but that Annia was definitely listening in,so I got us a room and we went to talk in privacy.

"You heard about the little mission in the Village Crypts from Sir Ganfry, no doubt?" I started out cautiously.

He nodded.

"And you have seen the letter that we found giving Lord Mana his instructions, yes?"

He nodded again.

"Well if someone were to have found that Word of Power thing, would you be interested in procuring it? I MIGHT know where it is and be able to get it, but I'd need a decent compensation for it," I was feeling a bit hopeful, but I really wished he'd say something.

His eyes narrowed a bit and he looked at me rather fiercely and speculatively. This was not the mood I wanted him in, "Compensation?"

"Umm...yes, my current offer is 35,000 gold coins, but I prefer not to deal with unsavory types," I temporized having no idea what the thing was really worth.

"And how am I to know that you can get it?" he asked. This one is a shrewd one for having been boiling his brainfor so long, I thought.

"Because it is right here," I held it up for him to look at and sidled slightly for the door. There isn't a big'un out there that can catch me if I get one step ahead of them. You really learn to dodge and run when you have dealt with as many theater critics as I have!

"50,000 in hard coin here and now," He replied not making any moves toward me. I guess having dealt with the thieving littluns that abound around here, he guessed I would bolt if he tried to make a grab for it.

"Hmmm...how about 50,000 in coin and a pardon for any crimes I may have unwittingly committed since my arrival here?" I couldn't let it go without at least a little bartering, though that niggling voice laying under the anvil at the backof my mind was hurling muffled insults at me for not just handing it over and being happy to not be in jail.

"Crimes? What kind of crimes?" darn him,he was now paying far too much attention to me.

"Oh nothing major, but you know how every place has its strange laws. Like in Fordenheim it is illegal to shave a dwarf's beard on Thursday unless you have a permit. Or in Serindai, you cannot ride a horse down the main thoroughfare after dark. That sort of thing," I threw off a thingyy grin that I did not entirely feel.

"I know of no such laws here, " he said looking a bit puzzled as talluns always do when I get on a roll. "I see no problem with giving you a pardon and the coin."

"Done!" I cried perhaps a little too relieved, but hey you try standing in a small room with that fellow looming over you while you run a bluff that you know could land you in jail or the stocks or even dead!

I took the gold, he took the scroll and I was out of there fast. I decided that a nice break to work on my plays was in order. I'd made more than a hundred thousand gold in a short span. My purse was fat, the niggling voice was silent, and best of all no jail or nasty death in sight!

[Norah]

Ni-ice...!

[Preedy1978]

ehehehehe...very good!! Nicely told, and accurate too!

[MitzaVolchenko]

As accurate as any first person narrative is likely to be considering the character's flair for the dramatic

[MitzaVolchenko]

~Working for the Man, Redux~

So I'm up in Styne Harbor...killed that wacky wizard Raol...poor guy...almost felt bad for it, but you know what happens to rabid dogs...

*stops writing a moment to hum the theme from Old Yeller and get misty eyed*

Any way, there I am heading south out of the tower thinking I might get a nice drink at the Destiny when I run across this pair of Knights bashing the blazes out of each other. I stopped to watch and it seems a bit of a crowd was forming up.

I figure, what the heck? Maybe when that pair is done, I can do a bit of improv and have two drinks!

Well, I msut say that hte show never got started because up strolls Sir Ganfry lookin for help again. Last time paid well, so I'm game. It seemed he had sent Gorin, one of his guards into the sewers to checkon some odd bandit activity or some such, and the poor sot hadn't been heard from since!

The knightly types and most of the crowd was game, so I figured there was plenty of meat wall to hide behind, and besides EVERY venture needs a good locksmith.

So off we go, charging into danger...alright they charged and after much protesting by yours truly, I got them to keep their charging to a minimum and let me scout QUIETLY ahead.

I must say that the stench of the crypts ahd nothin on the stnechin that sewer...they need to get themselves some proper sewer cleaning alligators in that place. If you think the swamp gas down inthe southern swamp is bad, just take a little stroll in the Styne Harbor sewers, and you will know the meaning of reeking!

Several hours of slogging and stinking and killing all manner of nasty things brought us into a narrow corridor where we found that poor Gorin. He was in pretty sorry shape and gasping quite dramatically that we must win through and make his death worthwhile.

Not being one for such melodrama, I just slapped a bandage on his booboos and after a bit, the others did the same. Looked like he would make it, but he was in no condition to go on with his mission.

He seemed so surprised that the bandits down there had fingered him for a guard. Personally, I think the armor was a dead giveaway. Who has ever seen a bandit with armor that nice?

Anyway once he got over the notion that he was going to die, Gorin gave us all manner of intel on what we were to expect and a vial of rather nasty poison to take care of some (hopefully by the time we could find them sleeping) elite drow guards.

Somewhere along the way we picked up the world's worst rhymester. He wasn't with us when we came in, but there he was when I turned around to take stock after we sent poor Gorin home. Ruzzle Guzzle or some such he called himself. He was the bane of our fine existence, let me tell you! You would think given that we were all tired, smelly, and now being told we had not only a drider that was invincible, my old friend the pink flaming skull, but elite drow troops as well, he would have had the sense to keep his rhymes to himself!

Off we set again with the brain boilers bashin away at anything that moved, and I gotta hand it to Sparhawk, Kalten, Brand, and the rest they do know how to bash. I was staying a good bit out front on point and somewhere in the back, no doubt making sure that none of the critters the others turned into paste would attack us was Ruzzle Guzzle.

At last we came on the elite drow troops, as Gorin said they would be, sleeping. I crept in stealthy stealthy and liberally spiced up their food with whatever was in that vial while the others lay in hiding around a corner. Gods, I prayed that these were deaf drow from all the noise the others were making, but it worked like a charm. One of 'em lived long enough to scream at us a bit, but no harm no foul as the hin ball players say!

On past the drow bunk room we went, and who did we see next? Of course! Everyone's favorite skull with flaming pink hair.

I was ecstatic right up until that crazy Ice went digging in his treasure chests and got caught. And of course the big uns all putting on bravado shows as if Pinky cared if they threatened him with death...I mean, he IS already dead!

Finally after some clever flattery and a bit of coaxing and a tiny part of mockery he decided that another riddle game should be played. I instantly agreed and boy did the others look mad with me when I explained that failure was instant death for all of us. Personally, I think that arranging a game that gave us a chance was better than certain death!

I feel alittle bad because while the riddles were a little tougher this time,it is obvious the old boy is slipping since the second one was just simple math and not aproper riddle at all. But here they are in case anyone is curious.

First one was easy easy easy

A pronounced feature on the face, not carved in stone but set in place, by this we can win the race.

An obvious and easy one of course, and Pinky set up quite the hissing when I said sooo easily "Nose."

Maybe the second one was so poorly done because he was rather angry at losing a fourth round with me, but here it is.

A farmer sent his forgetful son to the market to buy three items. The boy's list was a loaf of bread costing 5 coppers, a mug of ale costing 2 coppers, and a sackof grain costing 7 coppers. The man gave him 2 silvers. How much change did the boy give his father back?

Of course this wasn't a proper riddle at all but rather a math problem. assuming (correctly) the exchange rate is 10 coppers to the silver coin, the answer seems an obvious 6 coppers. That of course seemed very simple so we all thought and thought and thought looking for the proper riddle answer until Ruzzle Guzzle, bless his cowardly self fell into the room from his hiding place outside the door, and to cover (and nicely done, sir...really nicely done) blurted out "6 coppers!"

"Correct," hissed Pinky. Good thing for Ruzzle Guzzle, else I think he wouldn't have lived to see how Pinky was going to kill us.

The final riddle was an old one which is alway nice as classics should be appreciated.

"Some look at me and a wonder they see. I have many leaves but they are not green."

It was a good one and we did give it some little debate and thought before replying correctly with "Book."

Pinky had a fit of pique, but after a bit more flattery he did hand over the gemstone that would let us kill the Drider Lord who was behind all of the nastiness (except the gas and stench) in the sewers.

I was just thanking him when I turned around to see that a combination of panic and gung ho heroism had taken over the others and they had not really heard a thing I had said the ENTIRE TIME.

I strolled into the next room and sat right down on the big bed inther and refused to move until they listened.

You see those gemstones that make the nasty spidery guys invincible have to be CRUSHED in their presence. Now I am clever, and I am stelathy, and I am quick, but I am NOT that strong. When the others realized that I wasn't going to move on until they heard me out, they stopped and I asked who the strongest was.

Normally you get everyone claiming to be the strongest, but these guys looked like a hin infantry troop being asked for volunteers to go first into an ogre cave. They all took a big step BACKWARDS.

**pause here for note finding conclusion when i get to it**

[MitzaVolchenko]

It finally was determined that Sir Kalten waslikely the strongest among us, and bless his little pea picking heart he really was quite determined to do the right thing.

For those of you that don't recall or never knew, the gemstones that provide invincibility become brittle when in the presence of those they are keyed to. All Kalten had to do was remember to wait until we found the Drider Lord and then drink the bull's strength elixir and crush the stone.

Off we set, for there wasn't much left of that putrid sewer to investigate, and when we got to that last door, I turn around to remind Kalten of his duty and guess waht...no Kalten anywhere in sight.

"Sparhawk, where is Kalten?" I asked feeling a bit irritated.

Sparhawk just shrugged and averred that he verily had no idea.

With a grumble I set to back trailing hoping that nobody else would lose themselves in my absence (alright I was sort of hoping a little that Ruzzle Guzzle might 'accidentally' fall into a deep cistern and break his neck), and there stands Kalten, repeating to himself, "Drink then crush."

With the great sweet temper that I am known for, I gently asked him to join us, and to PLEASE wait until the Drider Lord was in sight before doing ANYTHING.

At last we were to the final door and hadn't lost anyone. And so we bravely forged ahead, actually I slipped through the door behind the intrepid meat wall and Ruzzle Guzzle trailed in behind us, though I really think it was more to not be alone in the tunnel.

Battlecries that were the stuff of legends were uttered and there stood Kalten looking like a lost puppy.

"DRINK AND CRUSH, KALTEN!" I shouted before stringing my bow and firing off arrows with little prayer they would do much good.

"Die foul beast," or some such came from the very brave (but maybe not so bright) Kalten as he quaffed the potion and then with a one great squeeze of his gauntlet turned that Drider Lord's survival chances into about the same odds as a Half-orc's in a battle of wits.

I must say, that as much as I grumble about the brain boiled knightly types, they do have their uses, and in short order, our foe lay dead and our pay in sight!

Back to West Styne to be lauded heroes we went, and fine ly paid by the good Sir Ganfry we were...a good day's work and enough coin to afford several hot baths!

***
Secret Chapter
***

Someday the tall'uns are gonna get wise to us littluns, but until they do, I think the world might as well be an oyster on my plate and me holding a chisel and hammer!

I'll grant we were all pretty tired of the stench and trials of that darned sewer, but the end of a tale is the perfect place to be looking for the reward.

Now if you have ears, for days and days there has been all manner of news about these Spider Cultists and their "words of power" and what not, but it seems that I am the only one that takes the time to listen, and I was certainly the only one that took the time to look.

After we got done with Sir Ganfry, I again took Sir Mackenzie aside, ostensibly to hand over the cultists' correspondence.

I have no idea why he was so surprised that I had acquired a second word of power, but he was. And that niggling little voice in the back of my head was screaming at me to just hand the darned hting over, but really, I am a halfling!

He may look stupid, but Sir Mackenzie saw right to the heart on this one,a nd told me he hadn't much coin on him...and as I didn't really want to carry that scroll around it occurred to me that I had seen him making some fine weapons so I said to him, "Well, Sir Ganfry paid us well enough, but if I am to keep working for you people, I am going to need a better blade."

"Done," he said without batting an eyelash, and he took out his smithing hammer right in the inn. I have to say, that I did think briefly that he was going to just bash my skull in and take the scroll, but after a sort of stand off with me looking for a way past him to the door, things settled down.

Now I have myself a fine new dagger and sword of gold, and I have washed my hands of those nasty Spider Cultists...at least until Sir Ganfry comes up with a nice tidy sum when my purse is looking a little thin.