11.04.2006
G1: The Gregolas Adventure
Chapter 1: Awakenings
Once upon a time, Gregolas Half-Elven was damn hungry. He clutched his stomach and groggily rolled out of bed, dragging some off-colored sheets with him a few feet. Strange dreams from the night before rolled in his head and caused him to momentarily stumble.
“What the… what time is it?” Rubbing his eyes. “Damn I’m hungry. See if the Greet left any of that stew from last night, which equals crazy delicious.” Going down the stairs. “Yo Greetles, what’s… Uh, hello? G? You here?”
The cottage was quiet. “Huh. Shit, no stew.” The place was immaculate, except for a thin layer of dust over everything. Gregolas drew a big ‘G’ on the counter with a finger. “Uh oh… uh, what day is it?” he mused. That’s when he spied the note.
Dear Gregolas,
If you have found this note, it means I have failed in my quest. I have journeyed to Greyhelm Castle in search of our friends, with what I hope shall be a appropriate solution to our woes, thanks to the research of certain acquaintances of mine.
It is up to you. Please come A.S.A.P. to the Castle if you can. I will try to place the necessary information within the Great Library there; the secret password should be obvious.
Yours truly,
Ronald Greetles, Esq.
“Great.”
…
Chapter 2: The Fall of the Mighty
“Hey there Stan, what’s shakin’?”
Gregolas stood with his nice new backpack in Stanislaus the Illusionist’s general store. Stanislaus, wearing a loud red leather apron, was arranging the unbought feedbags and mentally computing his costs and gains over the last month.
“Hello there Mr. Half-Elven, heh heh. Nice to see you. Nice weather we’re having, n’est-pas ca? I can’t complain sir. No business is bad business, but that’s business, as we merchants say, ha ha!”
The months had not treated the Illusionist kindly. “Inmates taken over the asylum,” as Stanislaus put it, he had been usurped by a cunning ogre-mage and his succubus consort. Trying to recoup some of his costs, and make himself useful to the community, Stanislaus opened a general store just down the road from the once-grand Tower of Illusion, its top now draped in stormclouds.
“Sucks about that Tower shit,” Gregolas offered. “Any word on how that’s going?”
“Well sir that’s a most interesting question. Let’s just say that, hmm… there have been some interesting, some intriguing developments, and that Stanislaus the Illusionist does not take defeat lightly. ‘I have not yet begun to cast illusions!’”
Gregolas didn’t really get it, but tried to console his pal. “Hang in there dude. I’m gonna go save my buds, you know, go on an adventure? It’s gonna be frickin’ sweet. Gregolas to the rescue and all that.”
“Nice, my friend. Your time has surely come”
“Yup.”
“Hmm.”
“Anyway, you don’t got any potions, scrolls of Power Words, Staves of Insanely Great Shit and shit like that do ya? Pair of +1 Sneaks maybe? I mean, I’m only like a 2nd level dude, coupla Cure Lights, proficiency in club. Already on my way here I had to do the whole duck and cover roll those dice things with a bugbear with a big ass bow. Come on yo, I’m a pacifist and vegan and shit, I really don’t do the whole butcher some demons and grab the Gem of Power thing.”
“Yes, I see your dilemma. Alas my good sir, ‘+1 Sneaks’ I have none of. 10’ poles, 50’ rope, a lantern or two mayhaps.” The Illusionist’s eyes sparkled. “But my friend, perhaps it is not what you need, but rather whom. Gems of Power, I have known some,” Stanislaus said cryptically.
Gregolas beamed. “Hell yeah, it’s like that Ultima game from back in the old school day! Wilt thou JOIN me, uh, good sir? It’s on. Grab all the 10 foot poles you got son, let’s raise hella in the delta!”
…
Chapter 3: Sights and Sounds
Stanislaus surveyed the ruins of Greyhelm from the top of an old cathedral. “We walk amongst the wastes my friend, heh heh. Those formidable foes, the Knights, have fled this place for parts unknown. Say a prayer to your Great Grisbane that we see them not.”
“I hear that bro.”
…
Chapter 4: Friends New and Old
“Interesting; the Castle obeys Obermann’s Principle: as goes the inside, so goes the outside. This place is no Castle, rather a grave.”
“I second that emotion. This place gives me the creeps Scoob. Let’s find the frickin biblioteca, our pals, and GTFO.”
The two NPCs made their way through the Castle, defeating a couple foes and dodging others and generally having a 4th level adventure.
“Shit, man, what the hell is that thing?”
“Heh heh, hmm… I dare say that’s an otyugh, brave half-elf. A cunning, trash-eating adversary. Let us approach with caution; I shall prepare a mighty Chromatic Orb.”
Otto the Otyugh, meanwhile, was busy tending to his mold garden, munching on a bit of garbage. It sensed the two NPCs walking up to it. “Oh hey there. Uh, oh, damn. You guys know a guy named Tut?”
Gregolas (in slack-jawed amazement): “Tut? You mean Tot? Holy shit this thing is talking to us Stan?”
Stanislaus (not paying attention to Gregolas but pondering the question put before him): “King Tut, as in the ancient Egyptian Boy-King, who once..?”
Otto (impatient after months, and interrupting): “Uh, no, this crazy account guy named Tut. Or you know where Brogg and Dave and…”
“Hey you know them too?”
And so it was that the party increased in number from two to three. Up to the Library, where Gregolas sat and stewed, while Stanislaus typed in all manner of arcane terms, enthralled with the new-found source of trivia knowledge. “Take heed my good Gregolas, did you know that Lord Greyhelm’s son was a cross-dresser at the Boutiques des Diaboliques?” “Uh, say what?” Otto read the note, wandered over to another terminal and typed in the obvious password, revealing there Greetles’ detailed notes and instructions, and the hiding spot of The Magic Scroll. So they got The Scroll, went upstairs, freed Greetles from a gelatinous cube (“thanks guys, wow, nice work Greg, hi there Stanislaus”, “sure thing G, let’s wrap up this bitch!”), and finally, at the end of an extremely long day, made their way up the The Solarium.
“Holy sweet buttery Jesus. Look, it’s whats-their-faces!”
Greetles wasted no time, and read The Magic Scroll. “Welcome back, sirs. I think some explanation is order.”
Once upon a time, Gregolas Half-Elven was damn hungry. He clutched his stomach and groggily rolled out of bed, dragging some off-colored sheets with him a few feet. Strange dreams from the night before rolled in his head and caused him to momentarily stumble.
“What the… what time is it?” Rubbing his eyes. “Damn I’m hungry. See if the Greet left any of that stew from last night, which equals crazy delicious.” Going down the stairs. “Yo Greetles, what’s… Uh, hello? G? You here?”
The cottage was quiet. “Huh. Shit, no stew.” The place was immaculate, except for a thin layer of dust over everything. Gregolas drew a big ‘G’ on the counter with a finger. “Uh oh… uh, what day is it?” he mused. That’s when he spied the note.
Dear Gregolas,
If you have found this note, it means I have failed in my quest. I have journeyed to Greyhelm Castle in search of our friends, with what I hope shall be a appropriate solution to our woes, thanks to the research of certain acquaintances of mine.
It is up to you. Please come A.S.A.P. to the Castle if you can. I will try to place the necessary information within the Great Library there; the secret password should be obvious.
Yours truly,
Ronald Greetles, Esq.
“Great.”
…
Chapter 2: The Fall of the Mighty
“Hey there Stan, what’s shakin’?”
Gregolas stood with his nice new backpack in Stanislaus the Illusionist’s general store. Stanislaus, wearing a loud red leather apron, was arranging the unbought feedbags and mentally computing his costs and gains over the last month.
“Hello there Mr. Half-Elven, heh heh. Nice to see you. Nice weather we’re having, n’est-pas ca? I can’t complain sir. No business is bad business, but that’s business, as we merchants say, ha ha!”
The months had not treated the Illusionist kindly. “Inmates taken over the asylum,” as Stanislaus put it, he had been usurped by a cunning ogre-mage and his succubus consort. Trying to recoup some of his costs, and make himself useful to the community, Stanislaus opened a general store just down the road from the once-grand Tower of Illusion, its top now draped in stormclouds.
“Sucks about that Tower shit,” Gregolas offered. “Any word on how that’s going?”
“Well sir that’s a most interesting question. Let’s just say that, hmm… there have been some interesting, some intriguing developments, and that Stanislaus the Illusionist does not take defeat lightly. ‘I have not yet begun to cast illusions!’”
Gregolas didn’t really get it, but tried to console his pal. “Hang in there dude. I’m gonna go save my buds, you know, go on an adventure? It’s gonna be frickin’ sweet. Gregolas to the rescue and all that.”
“Nice, my friend. Your time has surely come”
“Yup.”
“Hmm.”
“Anyway, you don’t got any potions, scrolls of Power Words, Staves of Insanely Great Shit and shit like that do ya? Pair of +1 Sneaks maybe? I mean, I’m only like a 2nd level dude, coupla Cure Lights, proficiency in club. Already on my way here I had to do the whole duck and cover roll those dice things with a bugbear with a big ass bow. Come on yo, I’m a pacifist and vegan and shit, I really don’t do the whole butcher some demons and grab the Gem of Power thing.”
“Yes, I see your dilemma. Alas my good sir, ‘+1 Sneaks’ I have none of. 10’ poles, 50’ rope, a lantern or two mayhaps.” The Illusionist’s eyes sparkled. “But my friend, perhaps it is not what you need, but rather whom. Gems of Power, I have known some,” Stanislaus said cryptically.
Gregolas beamed. “Hell yeah, it’s like that Ultima game from back in the old school day! Wilt thou JOIN me, uh, good sir? It’s on. Grab all the 10 foot poles you got son, let’s raise hella in the delta!”
…
Chapter 3: Sights and Sounds
Stanislaus surveyed the ruins of Greyhelm from the top of an old cathedral. “We walk amongst the wastes my friend, heh heh. Those formidable foes, the Knights, have fled this place for parts unknown. Say a prayer to your Great Grisbane that we see them not.”
“I hear that bro.”
…
Chapter 4: Friends New and Old
“Interesting; the Castle obeys Obermann’s Principle: as goes the inside, so goes the outside. This place is no Castle, rather a grave.”
“I second that emotion. This place gives me the creeps Scoob. Let’s find the frickin biblioteca, our pals, and GTFO.”
The two NPCs made their way through the Castle, defeating a couple foes and dodging others and generally having a 4th level adventure.
“Shit, man, what the hell is that thing?”
“Heh heh, hmm… I dare say that’s an otyugh, brave half-elf. A cunning, trash-eating adversary. Let us approach with caution; I shall prepare a mighty Chromatic Orb.”
Otto the Otyugh, meanwhile, was busy tending to his mold garden, munching on a bit of garbage. It sensed the two NPCs walking up to it. “Oh hey there. Uh, oh, damn. You guys know a guy named Tut?”
Gregolas (in slack-jawed amazement): “Tut? You mean Tot? Holy shit this thing is talking to us Stan?”
Stanislaus (not paying attention to Gregolas but pondering the question put before him): “King Tut, as in the ancient Egyptian Boy-King, who once..?”
Otto (impatient after months, and interrupting): “Uh, no, this crazy account guy named Tut. Or you know where Brogg and Dave and…”
“Hey you know them too?”
And so it was that the party increased in number from two to three. Up to the Library, where Gregolas sat and stewed, while Stanislaus typed in all manner of arcane terms, enthralled with the new-found source of trivia knowledge. “Take heed my good Gregolas, did you know that Lord Greyhelm’s son was a cross-dresser at the Boutiques des Diaboliques?” “Uh, say what?” Otto read the note, wandered over to another terminal and typed in the obvious password, revealing there Greetles’ detailed notes and instructions, and the hiding spot of The Magic Scroll. So they got The Scroll, went upstairs, freed Greetles from a gelatinous cube (“thanks guys, wow, nice work Greg, hi there Stanislaus”, “sure thing G, let’s wrap up this bitch!”), and finally, at the end of an extremely long day, made their way up the The Solarium.
“Holy sweet buttery Jesus. Look, it’s whats-their-faces!”
Greetles wasted no time, and read The Magic Scroll. “Welcome back, sirs. I think some explanation is order.”
