Rise of an Empire

[bobo_daclown]

Bloodluck:
Three

The eleven ogres watch as the shorter figure pulls back the cowl of his cloak and then removes it as well. Damn, an elf--and fully dressed in armor as well. Some of the ogres shift uneasily; but, Three continues to survey the scene.

"My dear elfish friend. My apologies. Bloodluck would never want to hurt a Friend of the Forests1. It seems we have saved you from having to fight this brute. Perhaps you would like to be our guest instead of our prisoner."

The words well chosen, and the offer genuine, Three hopes that the Friend knows that Ogres treasure the Tree Growers2 in their forests. Letting out a quiet whistle, all weapons earlier trained on the elf are now fixed instead on the Troll.

"Troll! My master requested your presence. If your intentions are
honest, no harm will come to you. You seem intelligent enough and surely fighting will get us nowhere."



1: Friends of the Forests: Ogre name for Elves
2: Tree Growers: Another Ogre name for Elves

 

[Madcap]

Dayel

The gambit had paid off. Replacing his sword he smiled disarmingly. "It would be my pleasure to accompany yourselves and this fine troll to your village." They wouldn't attack him now, but the troll had no such assurances, and he'd be damned if he let them kill such an interesting fellow without a fight.

 

[bobo_daclown]

Bloodluck:
Women hunters

With a mew from Six, the ten women of that group step into the clearing to escort Three and the two newcomers.
edit: there were only eight that step into the clearing.

"Come, let us return to Bloodluck." Six quickly tries to move the group back toward the village. "We will get our horses and lead the way back home." The ten women who entered with Six disappear back into the trees.

"Troll!" Three barks. "You have yet to respond to us and we offer safe passage through these dangerous woods. Let us return to Bloodluck so that you may speak with the chief."

 

[poohlive]

"Ahhh, escorts, excellent."
He began to walk in the direction of the horses. Seems like as good an offer as any, afe passage through these dangerous forests. Hell, one never knows how much harm can come to an 800 pound monster.
He looked at the fairy on his side.
<How many can you temporarily freeze?"
The fairy's eyes grew wide, "Freeze??!? Surely you don't."
He grumbled mentally, "How many."
The fairy glanced around.
<There's nearly twenty of them. You can't take them all,>the fairy was begging know. Trolls were known for their suttborness.
<I don't intend to take them all, I intend to take as many as you can't hold in place with your magic, then deal with those later.>
The fairy shifted in her spot, glancing again at the group.
<I can stop the ones with the arrows, and four more. That's all though. You'll be on your own.>
The troll nodded. Taking a quick inventory of the enemy around him. here were eleven original, and it seems like severalmore came. That would be about 16 ogres. He made motion to the back four, along with the arrow holders.
<Those.>
The fairy nodded.
That left twelve free range animals at his disposal. This wasn't very good odds at all. He would have to do much moving around, and dashing. In the end he'll probably make a clear trail and run for it.
How fast were ogres?
He didn't know, he hadn't been in any races with them lately.
<Now!>
The fairy flew up, spreading some golden dust as she did. In an instant he knew the spell was cast. With a quickened rush he leaped at one of the spear carriers. Ripping the weapon from her arms, he plunged it deep within her stomach, and hitting the tree behind her. She was totally immobilized.
From out of his back he grabbed a long battle axe. Wasting no time he flung it to the far side, at one of the most threatening of the ogres.
Before any of them had gotten too close he pulled out two broadswords. Quickly he chopped the heads off of the two nearest ogres, making short use of them.
By now the initial shock had worn off. He had only gotten four, and the rest looked very pissed. He backed up, making sure no one was behind him, holding the bloody swords up in defense.
The growling was deep, rustling leaves around him.
"Who else wants some?"

 

[Gaston_McBain]

Angus

Logan took Angus through the complexities of the argeement with his gruff, somewhat rustic tone of voice. However, the man was literate, which greatly impressed Angus. This man either is or was of great worth, Angus thought.

After Logan presented his terms, Angus read through the contract himself. After all, he had heard of scoundrals who had tricked man of little learning into signing a contract that was written differently then was spoken. However, this man was either not one of these scoundrals or guessed that Angus was literate as well because the contract's terms matched that of Logan's presentation. 100 ducats, a fair sum representing about a year of his old allowance. Plus there was the possibility for more treasure. All in all, a good deal, unless he died on the journey of course.

"100 ducats and a share of treasure will be fine with me" Angus said as he signed the contract.

 

[bobo_daclown]

Bloodluck:
The women hunters

As the troll sweet-talks them, group six looks back, relieved. Suddenly, a golden glitter falls over some of the women.
The two bowwomen of Six and the four from Three are paralized. Also, the two sword yielders and a couple of the women with clubs cease all movement.

Before Three and Six can direct the remaining women, they react instinctively. One of the spear carrying women from Three finds herself anchored to a tree and two more spears are lost as he beheads their owners. A whistle from Three and a growl from Six stop the onslaught. The ogres are ready but wait for a signal. The two leaders purvey the scene and note that they missed the other woman with a club who apparently rushed the troll from some distance and now wears a new ornament--a head axe!

Three sees the three spear-toting ogres in her pack who can still move. Her bowmen seem alive, though they stand without moving.

Six is even more dismayed. Aside from the frozen archers and club-carriers and sword weilders, she stands alone. Letting out a hard growl, the two ogres guarding the horses rush into the clearing with their bows at ready. Though no match for elves in an archery contest, ogres are still rather accurate and rather fast with a longbow.

"Don't make me kill you, Troll!" Three exclaims loudly. This will sting for a second; but, perhaps you won't try to kill us for a while." With that, she and Six pull their blowguns from behind their respective left ear. Three lands a small dart in the Troll's neck. Before the dark even hits its mark, another is loaded in the straw.

The gigantic mass falls to his knees and slumps to the ground. The tranquilizer has set in. "Fae! Undo whatever you did to these women or I will slit this Troll's throat open." Hoping that the bargaining chip will work, some of the women finish tying rope around the great man. Luckily, they keep strong rope on their saddles, and the Troll shouldn't be able to break these.

"Fae!" Three calls again. "Did you hear me? Release my women and accompany us to Bloodluck. There, your companion will be judged."

 

[Madcap]

Dayel Brightleaf

Dayel sighed to himself as the troll began his rampage. On his honor he couldn't attack the ogres in the trolls defence as long as they still offer fair trial towards him. The troll's reaction cast serious doughts on the half-elf's earlier estimation. "Perhaps he's just a mindless brute after all," he said to himself. In this case the ogre patrol had every right to do what they would with the troll, as they were on their land. Moreover, they had offered friendship to Dayel, and thay weighed heavily on his decision to aid the ogres in this battle. He would go with the ogres, troll or no.
He was about to draw his sword and rush the troll when his intended target fell to the ground, asleep. The ogre who appeared to be in command was speaking to the faery, commanding her to release the enchantment, but it was obvious they could not locate the little sprite.
Dayel's keen elfish eyes had no trouble locating her, however, and he quickly drew his bow. With arrow pointed at the faery, Dayel spoke in a light but commanding tone. "Not so big a target, but i could pin you to that tree you sit in with hardly a second glance." He didn't want to kill the faery, but if she didn't release the orges he surly would.

 

[poohlive]

"Tis hard to hit a target with a quill," she wiggled her nose. The arrow turning from a sharp killing instrument to a harmless pen.
Her course was swift, Lyt rushed over to her fallen comrade.
"They are released," she said, and as she did their movement began, as it did so did the Troll begin to rise.
He looked over the scene, eyes sharp and twisted. Ropes. Predictable.
<Looks like they have us now>.
The troll closed his eyes, <No, they simply think that I am immobile. Wait a few minutes, we'll surprise attack once more. Take these fuckers off a few at a time. They wouldn't dare kill me, otherwise they would have already.>
the fairy nodded, still unsure if this would work or not. It seemed as if the ogres were content on getting what they wanted. Why would anyone want a living troll though? Be like trying to have a dragon as a pet. A mean ugly dragon that foamed at the mouth and gound his teeth a lot.
He stood on his own accord, glacing at the ogres around him, giving off a putrid growl.
"Release me before I kill any more. How great a loss would you take for a troll?"
Four dead already, and his eyes promised others.
In all honesty, if he weren't a troll he'd probably have gone willingly. Being a troll though, he had two things against him. 1. Trolls hated doing what they were told. They were stubborn idiotic creatures that would fight tooth and nail for anything, no matter how frivilous. 2. Trolls hated captivity. They were land creatues, who went crazy after a mere couple of days in a cage. They just couldn't handle it. A troll without his freedom is just a big ugly dwarf.
He tested the ropes, feeling them give slightly. Not enough to do anything though. That would change in a minute though. If they didn't let him go, Lyt would. Already his heartbeat began increasing. The ropes were doing their job greatly, making him go in deep angst. His very loins twitched for the freedom he didn't have. Dynamite waiting to go off.

 

[bobo_daclown]

Bloodluck:
The women hunters

Pulling a small dagger from under her cloak, Three approaches the large Troll as to cut him free. Instead, she slices a couple of inches of his upper arm.

"Troll! You have insulted us and killed enough of us today. That dagger was tipped with the mucus of the greenback toad. In about an hour, you will get quite dizzy and perhaps you will think you have drank too much. Incoherent, you will babble about without even remembering me or this woods. Another hour will pass as you wet yourself and black out repeatedly. Then, you will die." Looking around for the speck of light that is his companion, Three continues. Even your fay knows that there is no magic to cure this poison. Only the witch of the woods knows the cure. And, only Bloodluck contains an antidote within two hours of here.

"Now, I will cut you free and you may kill us all or run away mad and screaming. Or, you may accompany us back to Bloodluck and perhaps He will give you the antidote." With that, Three slices the ropes that bind the huge Troll.

As quickly as that, she grabs the elf and pulls him to the horses. "We ride!" The ogres and their horses sprint toward Bloodluck leaving an obvious trail behind. Perhaps the Troll is not so stupid as to miss it.

 

[poohlive]

"Finally," he saighs, picking up his weaponry. He cleans off both blades from the blood, putting them back in their respectable sheaths.
"Lyt, I think we both deserve that swim now."
Lyt didn't move though, she flew in the same spot.
"Something wrong?"
"They are right you know."
He grabbed the axe from out of the woman's chest, blood oozing down to the ground, "What?"
"The antidote."
Roc squinted his eyes, "Come on, it was just a regular knife. I've heard better stories from the passing humans that come by here."
The fairy shook her body slowly.
"We have to go there."
He sheathed the axe, "Are you crazy? I'd be scared to go there if I was an ogre myself. You know how they are, even more uncivilized than trolls."
The fairy flew up to him, "There's something odd here. The ogres don't want you or me."
Roc stood back, as if the fairy had just slapped him, "Are you mental? Going through all this trouble and they don't even want us?"
Lyt glanced at the wound, healing the physical part, so there would be no scar.
"Ogres only need three things, food, water, and shelter. We are neither of those things, so they don't want us."
"Then why go through all this trouble?"
Lyt rested on his shoulder, "Exactly. Why all this trouble, four deaths nd even more to come, just for one measly troll? They don't want you for food, they would have just killed you. It's something else."
"Well, what?"
"I'm not sure, unfortunately, we're going to find out."
Roc growled again. Trapped, just like before.
"Ok, we'll do this, but we'll do it my way. We go in there, get the antidote, then leave."
Lyt nodded. Roc told her of his plan. A simple but evil one, that would work, either way it would work. In less than an hour they were on their way.
He could smell meat being cooked in the village. Lyt had oved away from him, unseen to a remote spot. (I don't care how good your eyesight is, unless you have X-ray vision, you can't see her).
Roc held the huge axe in his hand, waiting as he walked into the village. The nearest ogre he saw, he aimed for. With a huge grunt he let the thing fly.
It's mark was true.
Growling, he walked into what seemed to be the center, looking at everyone. During this time, he stood up, fully. Letting everyone see his 8 foot some odd inches of heighth.
"My friend is close by, and has promised to kill every single ogre in this village if I am harmed. I know how good you are arms, but you do not even begin to know what she does about magic. Give me the antidote and let us leave, before I have to kill more of you."
He let his swords come out, one in each hand, as if to emphasize there was no bluffing.

 

[SpectralDragoon]

Leaning against the back of his chair for a moment, and with a familiar movement and a sigh, Devin drew his fingers down around his mouth to clear any remnants of his morning meal. He had decided. A journey would be good. Keeping busy would be good. He rose and pushed in his chair and approached the table occupied by the man in search of journeymen.

“Farstrider, I am Devin Valor.” He pauses as he takes the man’s forearm in greeting. He nods to Angus in respectful acknowledgement and turns his attention back to Logan. “I couldn’t help but hear your announcement to the people here at the Wastrel, and nay could I help overhearing the contract as you told it. I would like to sign my name and skills to your ledger there,” he motions with his chin to the piece of parchment.

“I have a thief in my custody now,” he gestures to the table he recently left and the woman sitting there. “She’ll come with me as far as Bristle, where I'm to take her to the proper authorities. If making a brief stop there is satisfactory to you, then give that quill here, and I’ll put my name to your cause.”

 

[chewbacca71]

Rhuarc

As Rhuarc gets closer to the table, he sees another man approach the table and begin to speak to Farstrider. Rhuarc overheard his name as Devin, and saw that he had a women in tow with him. Something about her being a thief. She did not look like a thief, but it takes all kinds to make the world go round.

Rhuarc waits respectfully for Devin and Farstrider to finish talking before getting to the table. When the two men are seated, Rhuarc puts his hands on the table.

"My name is Rhuarc, I am interested in hearing more about this adventure. I have a mind to join, like most dwarves, I would like to see the royal treasures returned to their rightful owners. I can more than handle my own in a battle, and have other useful skills. May I sit down and join you ?"

 

[bobo_daclown]

Bloodluck:
In the village

The naked ogre shuffles across the open space with a large basket of fruit on his head. Dreary eyes barely shine with life as he trudges to and from the apple trees. He hears a grunt and looks up to see his last sight. A troll--but with something obstructing his view.

The heavy basket tumbles to the floor and apples roll in everywhich direction. The ogre man lays wideeyed on the ground with a huge axe protruding from his body. No futher thoughts roam his mind.

"Enough!" The ferocious roar echoes from the true center of the village. Chief Bloodluck begins to walk toward the large troll. He stops at twenty paces. Bloodluck sizes up the ugly creature. "I asked you here in peace, yet you kill my women. I offer you safe passage to my village and you reply with a slaughter.

"On foot, It probably took you almost an hour to get here. So, the greenback toad will probably start on you soon enough. Give me one good reason why I should give you the antidote. Can you give me the antidote to the destruction you caused in the forest?"

Bloodluck looks around him at the houses that hide the archers. If this troll wants to play, these ogres are game. The women of Bloodluck would never let him die, purposely. And there are over eighty women ready to fire from hidden vantage. Bloodluck looks back to the Troll, "What's wrong? Toad got your tongue?"

 

[poohlive]

"Safe passage?" He looked at the ogre dumbstruck, "Safe passage?
"I already had safe passage. I was minding my own business when a dozen armed ogres order me to come to this village. What makes me think that your intentions were anything but bad? You come with spears and arrows to order a troll around, and you don't know why I reacted as I did?"
His blades shined blazingly, reflecting the mid-morning sun. Roc's eyes travelled around the village, taking many small details into account. Sharp looks passing from fires to ogres, to dwellings.
"If you have no wish to give me the antidote, of a poison which your bretheren put on me, then the decision of death is already made. I'm going to die either way, so it's not much of a choice for me."

 

[Quiet_Cool]

Logan Farstrider

He eyed the girl, wonderin gwhat trouble this delivery might cause. Surely they would not have the treasure so soon that she could sneak off with any portion.
He shrugs.
"The girl may be dropped where you please, so long as you tak eresponsibility for her, Devin...Valor is it?" You may sign at your bidding. He slides the man the list and motions for him to sit.
As he does, another man appears from nearby, stepping up to the table and placing his hands down on the tabletop.
"My name is Rhuarc, I am interested in hearing more about this adventure. I have a mind to join, like most dwarves, I would like to see the royal treasures returned to their rightful owners. I can more than handle my own in a battle, and have other useful skills. May I sit down and join you ?"
Logan motions for the man to sit, then waves the barmaid over and requests drinks for the two men, an act of generosity.
"It is nice to meet you both," Logan announces. He glances between the men, one a bounty hunter it appeared, a man who most likely was interested only in the money, the other a dwarf, who may very well care deeply aboyt the mission ahead. He wondered how the two might interact.
"A toast," he offered raising his glass. "To adventures of the past, and to those yet to come..."

 

[Quiet_Cool]

Dust

It was near midday when I crept into the clearing, resting on a stump and eating a few berries I'd picked along the way. A weak lunch, but it would have to do.
Soon, I was moving again, wondering if I might reach the town sooner than expected.

 

[SpectralDragoon]

Two thick, strong hands appear on the edge of the table as Devin reached for the quill. Looking over to the owner of these hands, Devin finds himself almost face to face with a short, very muscular fellow. These identifying characteristics come second only to this mans beard. Being a bearer of a beard himself, Devin can't help but find himself admiring this trait above the others as the Dwarf, Rhuarc he calls himself, states his reason for coming.

As they wait for the serving girl to bring the drinks, Devin introduces himself to the newcomer, taking the man's forearm in greeting as was his regional custom. This man's arm was as stone, his flesh hardly giving at all as he squeezed.

The drinks arrive and Devin raises his tankard, and pushes his against the other three, making sure at least a bit of his frothy ale spilled over the edges, some onto the table and some to his new comrades tankards. One could not take up an adventure without losing something, and because of this, they would each give and receive in their struggle toward a common goal. And what a goal it was, these sacred Dwarven artifacts.

"To adventures of the past, and to those yet to come," he repeated, adding, "and to the triumph and growth of all who attempt this jouirney."

 

[bobo_daclown]

Bloodluck:
In the village

"Tree Grower!" Bloodluck calls for the elf. When he approaches the chief, Bloodluck asks for his opinion. "You knew this Troll before he slaughtered my women. I have never before seen a talking Troll in my forest. What do you think?

"If you judge him worthy of our company, I will give him the antidote though it will probably anger the women who commanded the brave scouts. If you judge him guilty, I shall leave him to insanity and certain death."

Looking back to the Troll. "Before the Friend answers me, I will tell you something. No creature, save the foul humans should ever fear the Ogrood. No doubt that you already knew that. Perhaps my women treated you with distrust; but, as I said, we have never had the company of a talking Troll before. Only our young can interact with most Trolls that travel through Ogrood."

 

[crysede]

River:
Her face betrayed none of the amusement she felt as Devin rose and, as expected, signed on with Farstrider - she knew the lure would be too strong for him! Catching sight of the one calling himself Rhuarc gave her pause however: a dwarf! Though she felt no allegiance with elves, her pointed ears and musical voice marked unmistakably as their kin, and had resulted in previous trouble with dwarves, some of whom saw no reason to differentiate between elf and half-elf.

She would have to be cautious around him, angering the dwarf would not be in her best interests, indeed, it was possible that he might be her best chance of escape. Their years of oppression at the hands of haughty elfin masters had left dwarves with little affection for those who would subjugate others. If she could explain her situation to him, he might well feel more inclined to aid her, than to aid Lord Cobrane in retrieving his pretty amulet. It would be best to proceed cautiously of course, she would until she gained a better sense of his nature before attempting to approach him.

Instinctively she put a hand to her throat, feeling the hard lump that was responsible for her being here digging into her palm through her shirt. Devin had neglected to take it from her, no doubt he saw little point as both she and it were to be delivered to the same place. She found herself wondering again about what was so important about the multicolored gem, that it had caused a Lord to risk being exposed as one who would sleep with common whores. Sending a bounty hunter after her, rather than turning the matter over to the proper authorities, did not eliminate the risk of public exposure and ridicule - a fate worse than death for the nobility, to whom appearance was everything.

 

[Gaston_McBain]

Angus

After signing the contract, Angus looked up and saw a large man, about a half a foot taller then himself, walk up and address Farstrider. He gave Angus a nod, which of course Angus returned. As the large man told Logan of his desire to join the party, Angus felt a dryness in his throat. Another ale would be needed. He stood, bowed to Logan and the stranger named Devin, "Excuse me for a minute, kind sirs" he said as he set a path for the barsman and another pint.

As he was walking away, he heard Devin refer to a thief in his custody. This is an interesting turn of events he thought, Devin must be a bounty hunter. His thoughts raced around the stories he had heard about bounty hunters and concluded that this Devin, like the mysterous Logan, is a dangerous man.

After obtaining the pint from the bartender, Angus turned and saw that a dwarf had approached Logan as well. In addition, he spied a tall women, perhaps even taller then himself, sitting at a table alone near Logan's table. This may be the thief that the hunter was referring to, Angus thought. She appeared to be quite beautiful and on a second glance he saw that she had elvish features to her ears. "This is getting stranger and stranger" he thought.

He began to wonder what the elf-woman had stolen but he dismissed it as no concern of his. After all, she was riff-raff and a thief and the bounty hunter's problem, not his. The dwarf, however, looked to have poise and confidence, he was no common riff-raff. Likely, he would be a solid companion if that was his wish.

As Angus stood and thought, a serving girl passed with three pints of ale. "Where are my manners?" Angus thought, "I have been absent in my thoughts for too long, I should return to the party". As the three began to raise a toast, Angus reapproached the party. After the three had lowered their glasses, Angus decided he ought to greet the dwarf: "Hail friend, I believe you have joined our little party. Let me introduce myself, I am Angus." as he offered out his hand to the dwarf.

 

[Madcap]

Dayel Brightleaf

"I am not one to wish death on those undeserving," the half-elf said to the Ogre Cheif. "But this one has proven he cannot be reasoned with."

Looking directly at the lead ogre he continued; "I would not like this one living near my village, were I you, but I will not council you to kill or let live. That decision must be your own." And with that, Dayel turned to the troll and placed his hand on the hilt of his sword, incase the big fellow reacted violently.

 

[bobo_daclown]

Bloodluck:
In the village

Bloodluck looks at the elf with reverence. "You make a good Friend--diplomatic, yet persuasive. I will give this monster the antidote with a warning.

"Fiendish creature, take the antidote and leave my forest. You have caused enough trouble for one small village." With that, the chief pulled a small leather satchel from behind his back; and from within, a moist rag. "To cure the effects of greenback poison, simply rub this into the wound."

Bloodluck pushes the rag back into the pouch and drops it to the ground. Turning toward the elf, he says aloud, "Come Tree Grower, we will convene in my tent. This thing will not attack. If he did, we would see a porcupine with arrow quills." With that, the chief gave a hearty laugh. After all, the entire population of women are ready if the Troll should attack.

As the pair begin to walk to the tent, Three runs up to them. "Bloodluck, the Troll no longer wears the cut that I gave him. Is it possible that he already took the potion?"

Bloodluck turns his head back to the Troll. "The fae! Don't ingest that rag. It would burn your bowels." He turns back to the tent and laughs harder than he had ever laughed in his life.

 

[chewbacca71]

Rhuarc

Rhuarc accepts Farstriders invitation to sit down. He hears Farstrider call for some ale. Obviously a man of good breeding to remember to buy ale for a dwarf. He sits down and takes the tankard, downing a large swig of the beverage.

Rhuarc grasps forearms with the tall human, looking up so much hurts his neck, so he is glad when the man sits down in his seat. He remembered Devin saying that he was a bounty hunter. Rhuarc wondered if the woman at the next table was his bounty. He studies her features closely , and notices the elven features blended sensually with her human features. He is not as prejudiced as other dwarves that he has met, since he has been forced into more interaction with them due to his family leaving the stronghold so many years ago.

Then while he quaffs more of his fragrant brew, another man approaches the table. This man is shorter than Devin but looks far younger. Rhuarc is introduced to Angus in short time and makes room at the table for the young man to sit down. He has now met some of his new companions. This will prove to be a interesting journey with this collection of humans and an intriguing women.

 

[Madcap]

Dayel Brightleaf

Dayel smiled to himself as the Ogre chief, Bloodluck was his name, gave the antidote to the troll. There would be no need for more killing this day. He then followed the laughing chief into his tent.

"So, mighty ogre, how fares the village of Bloodluck?" the half-elf asked. "When not being meanaced by marauding trolls, that is?" He added with a grin.

 

[bobo_daclown]

Bloodluck:
The tent of meeting

Sitting across from the elf, Bloodluck returns to a solemn face. One that masks his desire to laugh more. "Friend, Bloodluck is doing wonderfully." Motioning for the smaller male ogre to come forward, he offers the elf a drink. "It is a good wine, made in our vineyards a twenty turns past." Twenty year old ogre wine usually tastes wonderful. The unopened cask ready to be opened should the elf wish it.

Looking back at the man-ogre, Bloodluck fumes. "Open the damn thing. You know he will want some." As the smaller ogre leaves, Bloodluck returns his cheerful gaze to the elf. "Actually, this village is doing less than wonderful. Daughter Rain has not blessed the forest in nearly two moons. We are nearly out of water reserves."

Disheartened, the chief continues. "None of the others drink water, only the plants and the animals. Soon the wine will be gone and our vineyards are becoming rasinyards and have yet to be picked. It is a sad sight to see.

"When I got news of a Troll in Ogrood, I became excited and hoped to lure it here. I know that most trolls know the nymphs or faery and can help to make rain. I was only trying to save the village, yet it cost a good number of my women. The men are out making graves for those lost. I don't know what to do. The witch of the forest has been missing since the last rain. Two moons have waxed and waned and none have seen her near her cave."

Looking up at the traveller and noting the grim expression, the chief bites his tongue. Passing a full goblet to his companion, he inquires. "Enough about my problems. Drink some of this fine wine and tell me how you faire and the news of the country."