9.02.2005
  The Pixie Thinks Grito 'Hell Of Blows'
“Oh hell yes,” says Charles, the Blackwall Thiefs member currently hanging out at Shady O. He kicks it right back.

What’s up mother fucks
He’s the hottest around
Hide yer jewels and yer daughters
When da theef come to town!
(What?)

Climbing walls, picking locks
Getting paid, buying stocks
Stole some bling from the king

Now he’s down by the docks

He gotta plan with a knife
Hella fun, hella strife
Hella gettin down with your wife
Cuz we Blackwalls 4 life
(Cin-da!)


Getcha thug on
And cut a rug on
A li’l drink on
A li’l pink on
Here a smoke on
There a toke on
A bit a poke on
Or make ya choke on
(Ah-ha!)


And yo Cinder’s the name
So get it deep in your brain
It’ll live on in fame
Across the prime material plane

(Yeah, UH)
Gettin tipsy with the wolfman, pullin gps
xps, times threes, knockin boots if you please
The mission statement’s To Kife
Cuz we Blackwalls 4 life
(Propa)

“Take it G-dogg.” Charles passes the mic over to Gregolas, who’s still watching Xena Warrior Princess on TV. He’s a little stunned, or just stoned, at first, but then drops some lyrics.

Um, I’m Gregolas Half-elven
And… uh, I’ma livin in this dwellin
With some zombies and a felon
Now it’s time to hear my yellin

I never really had it so good
Born an raised in the hood
The ghetto-ass of The Wood
Jus try and do what I could


Kept behind in my class
Always beatin my ass
Jus try an get a D minus to pass
So I can go smoke some grass

But now I’m making my way
On a farm baling hay
So listen up as I say
It’s a pretty nice f***ing day

Gregolas is MY name
Half-elf igga’s in-sane!
Now you feelin my game
But yo, peace out all the same


Now that’s a fucking welcome home party. Gregolas and Charles crack 40s and get the party started even though it’s only about 11:30 AM. Some zombies come in and cut rugs.

The next day, Cinder, a FedEx package arrives for you. Inside are 100 xps, all shiny and new, for displaying excellent skillz.



Later, you can sit down with Greetles. Charles and Gregolas also hang out, and seem to more or less pay attention, but sometimes wander around or check out the game on the telly.

You inform them of what happened, and ask more about some of this crappy mail you got. Charles just shakes his head when you tell him about the monks, and Gregolas says that you should call up Mysterious and challenge him to a battle… a rap battle. “Uh, I mean, that was some stone cold rockin. I doubt this lawful good new age guy can handle that shit, 17th level or whatever, it don’t matter none. Rematch, bro.”

You guys can talk more over that big dinner. Check, no dogs for dinner. Actually, there really aren’t any dogs to be found, still, for some reason. Looking at the posts, here ya go:

Charles is a 3rd level thief. Grew up in Durth, gang-banging and shit. Blackwalls since 13 years old. Slept with a Chess Clubber’s barmaid, had to split, came here. Um, he can’t really speak for the boss… if you wanna charge rates, well, first of all, Charles really doesn’t have any money to pay you, and two, you gotta go to Greyhelm and talk to the man. But yeah, he’s cool watching over the place. He kind of likes it, if you don’t mind the whole 1st-level module-on-acid thing Shady Orchards has going, zombies and kobolds all running the place.

Greetles talked to Mr. Ivans, assistant to the mayor, about the taxes. He thought it was 1 gp + 5% revenue each month, pretty reasonable, and that’s all paid. He doesn’t really know where this other stuff came from, and he’s been sort of scared to make too much of a stink and have a lot of people come down and investigate the farm. Everyone agrees that wouldn’t be good.

The farm itself is running pretty smoothly, and Greetles has a bank account set up, Shady Orchards LLC. It’s already netted several hundred gps! Of course, you guys are free to take what you want, but Greetles thought that, especially given this weird new huge tax, he’d let it sit and accrue for the time being. Anyway, it’s up to 534.4 gp at the 2nd Grito Big Savings Bank, he shows you the latest statement. Apples are big in Grito, apparently.

As for the missing zombies, well, Zombie 3 and Zombie 17 are now gone, and this other zombie (Zombie 1) saw a big wolf come and take Z3 away. All the zombies wear soccer jerseys with numbers sewn onto them so Greetles can keep them organized. In fact, that’s Gregolas’s main job, sew the numbers onto soccer jerseys. (So you can imagine how great a job the stitching is. It basically looks like crap.) There’s been some howling too. That’s all they know. Mike the Zombie agrees to serve as bait, but you guys better be backing him up on this. And he wants jersey 1000. None of the NPCs are really master tacticians, so you tell me your plan. Just imagine a farmhouse, an orchard, all surrounded by a big wooden fence. There’s a small barn/shed thing too.

Finally, okay, you guys head down to the mayor’s office to sort out the tax thing. You’re all human enough, so no one should freak out. The mayor is so glad to see you again and asks if you defeated Vrill, you can fill him in or lie outright, either way it’s obvious the guy has no beans and is pretty clueless. At first, he’s sort of unhelpful, saying that you got to pay the taxes (and can see a 10K gp gleam in his eye), but… Dave is a Man Of The People, after all, more specifically a Man Of This Person, so he finally admits that he doesn’t know much about it, and that strange arcane legal rites have been invoked using ancient land laws, slavery laws, inheritance laws, etc. No one in Grito even knew about this stuff until a long legal document arrived from Greyhelm. The mayor will show it to you, and sure enough, it comes from the same office as the restraining order: Caruthers and Sons, 15B Great Helm Lane. Hmm. But the mayor agrees that if you could just pay whatever you can, whenever you want, well he’s just so glad to see some real heroes again, and does a bump of snuff.

Marivhon, okay, before you leave Durth for Grito, you head on down to the Red Lotus Gang. They seem sorta hell-bent on fighting the MOP, although 20 ninjas in red jump suits… hmm. You might want to reconsider where you’re taking that 200 gp for special training. They’ll go on and on about honor and vengeance and ninjitsu and Yu-Gi-Oh and stuff. They don’t have any priest magic or anything, so they’re not so scared, and they don’t even know what a modron is, but damn do they sound lame, so extra not-scared. (Lemme know if you want a refund.) In any case, back in Grito, you’re like the only monk going. No MOP, no RLG, none of that. Picture the most average D&D village, there’s like a stream, water wheel, half-orc blacksmith, bar with a rumors table posted right on the inside of the door, all that crap. That’s Grito. No ninjas.

Marivhon, hat-pixie sez: “Look buddy. Tell ya what. This village hell of blows. Let’s go find some action. Blackjack’s my game. Just let me have 10 gps and I’ll double… no, triple your money.”

Plans? Especially regarding: Mike the zombie (aka, ‘Z1000’) baiting the wolf, what about the legal troubles, etc.
 
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