Classic-Castle Roleplay: January 2006

[Formendacil]

Happy New Year, Roleplayers!

Additions to the continuing epic should be posted here. Character registerations, questions and comments regarding the CCRP should be posted in this thread.

Let the adventure continue!

~Michael A. Joosten - Gaming Moderator~

[E of Alshire]

D-10
The coastal reaches ‘o The Royal Lions

A jarring thud woke Traver from his haunted sleep. Crashes came from the aft of the Ink e l, so named for the sturdy ship’s nameplate that had been mostly destroyed. The charcoal replacement letters ‘w’ and ‘l’ Traver had chalked on had quickly washed odd in the spray of the ocean.

The door banged open, allowing rain to splatter on the floor of the oddly-tilted room. “Megablocks those Tyco Lions! Megablocks them to… To… Megablocks!” Aelain cursed as she nearly fell into the cabin where Traver lay.

“Ahh…” Traver began delicately. “What’d ‘ey do now?”

“What’d they do… More like what’d you do, more like, you Shifty-Bricked navigator! ‘We’re too far so’th.’ he says. ‘Head No’th.’ he says,” She said in a passable imitation of Traver’s odd accent. “ And then…” she took a breath. “And then ya knock us straight in tha’ middle of LionKingdowhat’sit’sname.

Another sharp bang threw Traver from his bed. “Wot’s all this then?” Aethan’s jovial voice rang out.

“This - he - Megabloxed us all! We’re in Whatever They’re Callin’ Lionshire Right Now. They’ll kill us, or worse, find us!” Aelain shrilly screamed.

“They wouldn’t have much trouble with all the racket yore makin’. Get aft and fix up some brekkist. I’m starving to burst, or not, I suppose. Whatever. I’m hungry.”

Aelain stormed out of the cramped cabin muttering ‘Megablocks’ every other word. More crashes came from aft as she began to yell about those Megablocks Lions and what they’d done to her kitchen.

“She’ll be calmer after a meal.” Traver said. “Don’t know what she was goin’ on about…” Aethen’s face suddenly became stern.

“We are in trouble, you know that, right? Even if 'is Voidness is still alive, we’ve got simply leagues of territory to cover, lot’s ‘o it bein’ covered by Lions. Yore goin’ ta have to buck up, laddie, and do yore part to get there. Not much ta carry, less ya count that whompin’ monstrosity ya call a sword, but we’ve still got away to travel. Now go get some brekkist. You look starved too.”

Aethen stood up, exiting the room with a powerful stride. Traver stood up, stroked his mustache, and begin poring over the charts and maps trying to figure where he went wrong.

A third bang at the door and Aelain came in, smiling cheerfully. “Here’s yore breakfast.” She left, still smiling.

Traver had just begun eating when Aethen entered the cabin without the characteristic bang at the door. “Eat an’ pack, we’re leavin’ at noon. Rain’ll cover our tracks.”

Traver only then stopped to wonder just how much the land had changed…

[Robin Hood]

Grid: G-8
Location: Castleton

In the week following Yuletide, Aiden spent most of his time with Nina. They enjoyed the weather, the King's hospitality, and each other's company. They were so energetic and slightly mischievous that Kae-Os claimed they were acting several years younger than they should. This was probably due to an interesting incident involving Aiden, Nina, and a very snow covered, wet elf.

Despite the great time they were having, nothing of any great importance was said. After her tale of her past during the Yuletide feast, Nina had said nothing more of her past. It was just as well. Neither of them cared to dwell on it, and enough had been said to satisfy Aiden's polite curiosity.

Though many rumors were about in the castle that the two had fallen in love, it was hardly true. Since the feast, nothing remotely lovish had happened. Nina was reluctant to get even close to a relationship after her last one. Though, deep down, she could tell that Aiden was different than her last lover.

Aiden himself was confused. He liked Nina certainly. She was pretty and charming, but more importantly she had a great, if slightly damaged personality. Aiden found himself happier around her than anyone he had been with for quite some time. Not since his parents, and that was over a decade ago.

During a walk through the snow covered gardens of the castle, in the night after the New Year feast, Nina asked Aiden a bit about himself. "I have heard from your friend, and others around the castle that you are an adventurer and all around whatever, but how did it all start? If you don't me asking."

"Not at all," replied Aiden, sitting down on a stone bench. He leaned back and looked up at the stars. "Lets see. I left home, gee, twelve years ago. I was only fifteen at the time. Gosh, I can hardly believe it was so long ago. I traveled everywhere I could, trying to see it all. But I found that there is simply too much to see in one lifetime. You know how there are lands across the sea, Ikros for example. Well there are also other worlds. Places that simply cannot be reached by ship or land. Places where the creatures are different and where the stars are strange." Aiden paused, looking almost embarrassed by the look of wonder he was getting from Nina.

"Anyway, after five or six years of traveling where I could, I met Kae-Os. I won't tell of his past, if you want to know ask him. But he asked to travel with me and we have been together since. Boy, some of the adventures we had are worthy of a song. I tried to make some, but they didn't turn out too well."

Nina sat beside him, wrapping her cloak around herself. "Aiden, tell me one of those tales."

Aiden smiled unsurely for a second. He had a lot of them to choose from. "Well, lets see. How about the one time I was hired to retrieve the crown of a king that had been stolen by a rogue knight. This knight was a good piece of work, he..." As Aiden gave an account of his adventure, Nina sat and listened with a look on her face that Aiden could not fathom. However, he told the tale as it happened, ignoring the embellishments that he usually gave it when telling.

When he was done, they both sat there for a while under the stars. They might have stayed there all night, but Nina sneezed, waking them up to cold temperature. Apologizing for keeping her in the cold so long, Aiden walked Nina back to her room.

After a short goodnight, Aiden went to find a good ale. He had many questions, most of them nobody could answer.

[Formendacil]

Grid: M-8
Location: Drullen Bell

"We should leave as soon as we can," agreed Brian. "It took me nearly two weeks to get here, and I don't know how long Melkan reckons the Fright Knights will hold off using force against the village."

"I could leave tomorrow," said Thomas. "Merina?"

"I'm ready when you are."

The following morning, Thomas, William, and Merina were up before the sun to depart for Hemmerington. Brian was already waiting.

"Let's get going!" he said. "I've found us a ship in the port. It sails by noon."

"Plenty of time to go down through the city, then," said Thomas. "We should have slept in..."

"The captain wants us aboard as soon as possible," said Brian. "Wants to make sure everything's all right before he casts off."

"Fine," said Thomas. "Have we got everything? I know I'm set."

"Have you got plenty of Essense of Lipton?" asked Sir Dractor. "We don't know how long you're going to be in Hemmerington, and that has to last Merina for that entire time, since there's no telling if you'll be able to get any."

Thomas glanced over at a small chest that was packed with, he knew, nothing but the Lipton leaves from which the soothing tea was made.

"I think we're good on that score," he replied.

"Okay, then, we're ready," said William before Sir Dractor could question any further. "Let's get going!"

Talking William into going along with Thomas and Merina had been easy. The outlaw was starting to fret for the outdoors, and for a touch of danger, and was more than willing to see something new.

Sir Dractor walked down through Delvarden Gard with them, until they came to the docks. There, they paused to bid him farewell.

"Take care, Thomas," Sir Dractor said to him. "I'm trusting you to not only to keep yourself intact, but to keep Merina safe- and to provide your village with the aid its looking for. May fortune favour you!"

"Good luck in Orion!" said Thomas. "I'll see you in a month or so."

"It could be more," warned Sir Dractor. "Things have a way of delaying me on most trips."

"Well, the thought of staying home longer doesn't bother me," said Thomas. "And Hemmerington still sounds like home to me. Take care!"

"Take care, Thomas."

[TheOrk]

Grid: P-19
Karond Kar the Tower of Despair, former Kingdom of Ankoria

Great things were happening on the blasted plains of Naggaroth, the plains of long dead Ankoria. The great tower itself was undergoing it’s finishing touches, it was almost complete. The grounds around it were another matter however. The Dark Fortress, an ages old symbol of Ankorian power was also being rebuilt. It was the original structure, Karond Kar literally grew out of it. Most of it’s walls were only half way to being completely rebuilt. Hundreds of ramshackle huts and tents surrounded it though.

On one side of the great fortress lay the blasted pits in which Vermicus spawned his orcish minions. The hideous deformed creatures thrived in the desolate landscape. They had built a city of sorts of semi permanent structures. Mainly roofed arenas in which to “play” in. Vermicus tried to stop them, but he came to except that his creations needed to blood themselves regularly.

On the other side, the Sorcerer’s more potent troops had set up their camps. A few hundred rogue Shadow Knights had set up a painfully clean walled camp. Every tent and every pole was in perfect alignment with each other. The most oddest thing of all about the minifigs was that they bathed every second day, in a special magically treated stream. The Shadow Knights seemed to be so disciplined that they must have been trying to replace the Cavaliers.

The third main group of warriors were the oddest of the bunch. They seemed to have numbers similar to those of the Shadow Knights. These mercenaries also bore a similarity to both the Shadow Knights and the cursed Morcians. The Rogue Knights as these cryptically called themselves were a very secretive suspicious lot. But Vermicus believed they were even deadlier then the Shadow Knights. It was a pity none of his home grown troops were anywhere near that good.

Muttering, Vermicus glided into the depths of his tower. Before he could do anything, a knock came from his chamber door. A moment later, Crom, the shrimpy little orc slithered in.
“Master, there is someone here to see you.”

“Who would want to see me?” He thought angrily, if this wasn’t important, then they wouldn’t leave this chamber alive.

A minute later, a big bulky looking orc walked in. One glance told him that that orc was not one of his. His were small hunchbacked deformed freaks. This one must have been a natural one. It stood seven feet tall, buried under a thick suit of greet scale mail. A massive axe rested at it’s side, one blow from that could split a minifig in two. The orc’s skin was a vibrant green and had a pair of large glowing, unreadable eyes.

“This is Throg your masterness…” Said Crom.

Once Throg walked by Crom, the little orc gave him a dirty look. Throg looked around to see Crom chuckling while looking at his toes, grunting, he turned backed to the shadow corner in which Vermicus sat.

“What do you want?” Hissed Vermicus, this orc interested him. But not enough to destroy him on the spot, but that would leave a mark on his polished floor though.

“Me and my boyz is looking for work. And it looks like you is the only one is planning anythink fun.” He said in a loud clear voice, nothing like Vermicus's pathetic excuses.

Vermicus thought a moment, he needed more troops if Dametreos was to fall. A group of orcs all like this Throg character could really boost the fighting capability of his motley collection of monsters. These ones seemed only to fight for love of carnage which a real bonus. His considerable vaults had been drained enough by those Rogue Knights.

“You hired then.” He hissed.

Throg grunted and turned to leave.

[E of Alshire]

E-10
The Borders 'o the Dragon Masters

Not a day had passed without incident. Traver was forever finding the wrong path, and Aelain was quick to berate him. Aethen’s attemps to keep peace were for the most part unheeded. After several days of stumbling around, they spied from a distance many fires. Approaching the end of his strength, Traver suggested they try to talk with “o’ever it is tendin’ them foires,” but was promptly attacked by Aelain with a large pan she had taken to wielding.

“Yore becoming’ more ‘o a cook than a Dragon Master,” Traver said one day, “’is Voidness ain’t goin’ ter like that.”

“On the contrary,” She said sweetly, “His Voidness’ll happy to have such a stunningly-”

“Obnoxious?” suggested Traver.

“- good cook,” she finished, “And with the armies he’s likely got, I very much doubt he’ll need you two at’ll.”

“’Nuff arguing’, we’s got work t’do,” Aethen broke in. “Traver, do some scoutin’, we’ve got to see what we’re up against. Aelain, yore doin’ patrol duty. Aethen…” he addressed himself sternly, “You’ll be nappin’. Get to work!” Traver barely stifled a laugh as Aelain stomped off in mock disgust.

***

“Hoy!” A startled Aethen stumbled from the tent, woken by Travers’ shout. “’s alright, they’re with us!”

“’O’s with us?”

“The fires! It’s a Dragon Master camp! An’ they say the Fire Burnin’ Breathin’ Fortress is just east! We’re back in our own lands, see? Ah told you ah could do it!”

“What the Megablocks is goin’ on here?” Aelain’s voice came directly behind Traver.

“Oh, yeah- spot ‘o bad luck too,” Traver continued, unheeding of Aelain, “That Majisto chap? The wizard? ‘E was blown away years ago. Bad for us, good for them, I suppose.” he said, pointing back toward the border. “But Void - get this - ‘e tried to take the Dragon Master throne - and failed! ‘is Voidness failed! ‘ow’s that for ironic? I mean, once a wizard, alwa-”

“Where is Void now?” Aethen asked in an almost worried tone.

“’E’s alive, still, leastways that’s what them at the camp seemed ter think. But there’s summat goin’ on at the Dark Dragon’s Dungeon-”

“Den.” Aelain corrected.

Traver continued, intent on the news. He was enjoying the otherwise vacant attention he was unused to getting… “used ter be a ruin. But they say, them, that there’s some rebuilderatin’ down there- mind, it’s a fair ways off- and if is Voidness is anywhere, that’ll be it.

“Oh- one more thing,” he continued, “Told ya I’d get us ‘ere, didn’t I?”

[Lord_Of_The_LEGO]

“Enjoying yourself?” grinned Adrian

“Life rocks.” said Hans, a grin spreading over his face.

Cate snorted.

Grid: M-7
Location: Drullen Bell Keep

Adrian spent the rest of the Yuletide attempted to act as a bridge between the smitten Hans and furious Cate. He had little success. Hans took to wandering the halls with his new lady-friend Ginny, leaving Cate to skulk in the corners. Once Cate had a sweet moment of revenge when Hans and Ginny decided (fatally) to take a walk in the courtyard. The same courtyard where the now legendary Great Snowball Massacre of 2005 had taken place. Cate had been obliged to perform a sequel. This rather nasty soaking, unfortunately, caused Hans to fall ill with cold. Now, with New Years celebrations beginning to be packed up, Hans was still snuffling.

“Hey --snnnrk! -- Abdrian.” greeted Hans, his face buried in a handkerchief Ginny had given him.

“’Ternoon.” said Adrian, “How you feeling?”

“Bedder.” said Hans, though he didn’t sound it.

“Excellent!” said Adrian, “Well enough to travel?”

“I fink so.”

“What do you say to heading out, then?”

“To Pordt Cwown?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m all ford it.” said Hans, “I’ve ben kinda bored since Ginny left yeshterday.”

Adrian nodded. That particular good-bye scene had left Cate is such a foul mood Adrian fled to the Drullen Bell Council Chamber to avoid any nasty occurrences.

“Indeed…” said Adrian, “Well, then, I’ll get…oh, here she is now…”

Hans cringed. Cate bounced up, a warm smile on her face.

“Hi Adrian!” Cate swooped down and kissed Hans, “Hi Hans!”

Adrian blinked. Hans looked befuddled in a pleased sort of way.

“So!” said Cate brightly, “Did I overhear that we’ll be going off to Port Crowne soon! Wonderful! I’ll go off and pack!”

And with that, Cate dashed off.

Adrian looked at Hans. Hans looked at Adrian. Then he blew his nose.

“I will never understand the female sex.” stated Adrian dryly.

Hans grinned. “You don’t have to understand ’em to like ’em.”

[Formendacil]

Grid: H-11
Location: Dracis Ini

Lord Void, Elbadar, and Japheth were eating breakfast together early one morning in the New Year.

"Well," said Elbadar, munching on some tasteless oatmeal, "it's 2006 C.C. I sure hope it beats 2005."

"Aye," said Japheth. "2005 was a shifty-brick year."

"I don't know," said Lord Void, twirling Japheth's crystal on the table, "I rather think that parts of it went quite well."

"Are ye kidding?" said Japheth. "Ye lost your throne, your power, and you're living in a cave, basically."

"Ah," said Lord Void, "but I recovered from losing the Mana, I rebuilt the Fire-breathing Fortress, I survived Ajaxx's attempt on my life, and I'm planning to humiliate him royally."

"You're unusually optimistic this morning," said Elbadar.

"Perhaps it's because I've finished making a plan for humiliating Ajaxx," said Lord Void, still twirling the crystal.

"What is it?" asked Elbadar.

"Patience..." said Lord Void. "I'll tell you in good time. Meanwhile, I must thank you, General Japheth, for this excellent little crystal. The Fright Knight who invented these had no idea how invaluable they'd end up being to those Mana-deprived when he invented them. But if I may ask, why did you carry one when you could just telaharm? The crystal does just that, and it gave Ajaxx physical evidence of your treachery."

Japheth blused red, and muttered a bit. Lord Void laughed.

"I'm sorry, I don't think I heard your answer," he said gleefully.

"Alright," said Japheth, irritable. "I liked to be able to see Opal's pretty figure when I talked to her."

Lord Void chuckled, and Elbadar thought to himself that a cheerful Lord Void was really no better than an irritable one.

Lord Void rose from the table, and held out the crystal before him.

"I think it's time to contact my most loyal servant. Caimlin has no idea I'm still alive, so this could be quite amusing."

Japheth and Elbadar glanced at each other. Lord Void was planning on open war between the Isles and the Mainland, was he?

[TheOrk]

Grid: P-19
Karond Kar the Tower of Despair, former Kingdom of Ankoria

Throg proceeded down the long winding staircase to the ground level. Numerous orcs looked at him sideways as he walked to the exit. He grunted at those who worked up the courage to look at him directly. Muttering something under his breath, he booted the tall doors open. Emerging into the courtyard of the Dark Fortress.

There were hundreds of minifigs milling about. Many of them were scrambling about rebuilding the walls brick by brick. A lot of the tougher looking orcs were milling around the front gates in a disorganized mob. In one corner, a dozen elite shadow knights in ebony euro armour or in the new Ruff’nBuff armour were practicing.

But Throg’s attention was focused on the group in the middle of the courtyard. His boyz. Just under thirty orcs stood around in a strangely organized formation. Each stood taller then any other minifig present by a head or more. Each of them were built and looked similar to Throg. Each had bright or dark green skin with well maintained scale mail. Each had weapons at their sides, many were two handed, most that weren’t had two weapons on hand.

“So Throg, what’s da deal?” Said one of them.

Throg looked him “Well boyz it looks like we’s got a new job.”

The thirty assembled orcs all let out a deep cheer. “Man, it’s been two long since we wuz in a tyco army this big. It's gonna be a good fun scrap when that boss sends them out.”

Throg nodded “Right. Ok you lazy sacks of minifig flesh, let’s go set up our tents, dis place is too filthy even fer us!”

[E of Alshire]

F-10
Just outside ‘o the Fire Breathin’ Fortress

"...and if is Voidness is anywhere, that’ll be it."

Traver turned out to be wrong on two counts. First, the “rebuilderatin’” had been completed at the Fire breathing fortress, not Dark Dragon’s Den. Secondly, and more pressing, was the current heraldry of the fort. If Traver’s other information had been correct, Void had left the Dragon Masters, and there would be no reason to decorate his newbuilt base with Dragon-Emblazoned banners…

“Void’s got to be here, right?” Traver asked. “I mean, he can’t not be here, can he?”

“’is Voidness can be wherever ‘e wants, I’m sure. Not much that can govern or pattern ‘is behavior, I’ve heard. ‘sides,” continued Aethen, “ I heard Ajaxx made an ‘hattempt on ‘is life. What would ‘e be doin’ hidin’ up ‘ere? Wouldn’t that be a little… obvious?

“Maybe that’s why the fort’s decorated all Dragon-y.” Suggested Aelain cheerfully. “The best hiding place is the one in plain sight, or so they say. I mean-”

“Speakin’ of which,” Aethen interrupted uncharacteristically , “We’re not getting’ any answers, or questions, for that matter, hidin’ out here. What say we nip over and see if-”

“They’ve got any food,” interrupted Traver. “I’m starving’. Maybe it’ll even be a feast! Some Dragon mea-”

“I highly doubt they’ll have Dragons slain just to satisfy your appetite.” Aethen interrupted again. “But friend or foe, Dragons or no, we’ll know soon enough…”

“Hail Three Hungry Travellers!” Traver shouted.

“What brings you to the court of King Ajaxx?”

[TheOrk]

J-18 Port Ravlin

After what seemed like an eternity, the Cruddler sailed into the a southern port. Port Ravlin was your average Western port. It in many ways was a far smaller version of Blocktavia. It was a small wall city, laced with winding narrow streets. The docklands were unusually big and their was enough anchorage for a fleet three times the size of the one that currently inhabit it. At one end of the city, rose a small but tough little castle. It stood high on a rocky cliff. It was not the strongest, but if there was a siege, the cost to take it would be high.

A broken Pyriuss staggered out of his broken cot that morning, overjoyed beyond words when he was told by a Shadow Knight, that land was in sight. He stumbled up out of the hold with all his armour on, he wanted off this floating megablox as soon as possible. Once he was on deck he saw his ten silent comrades already there.

Pyriuss spent a few moments steadying himself before taking along look at the city. He had heard of Ravlin before, but something was wrong. He just couldn’t put his finger on it, something was odd, very odd. Then he saw it, Port Ravlin was on the opposite side of the island!

That was the last straw. First and most importantly, he was separated from his brother, then he got on that Wooden Duck accursed boat and now this. They were supposed to be dropped off along the Batland and Morcian border, it was a simple walk from the north to the south. Now he the Shadow knights, his Shadow Knights would have to trudge three quarters of the way across the tyco island.

The last straw indeed, once they were moored and were disembarking, he flew over to Captain Flogwart. The good captain was leaning against a mast, a bottle of Blocktavian brandy in each hand. He was only dimly aware that Pyriuss stood directly across from him. He probably wasn’t even aware he was standing. He looked around vaguely and then noticed the minifig glaring at him.

“Ah Pyrozze me b’y wotcher be doin’ at this late hour?” It was the early morning.

“Why are we in Ravlin!? We should be half way on the other side of the tyco island!” He growled.

Flogwart seemed to get a good look at him for the first time and tried to straighten himself slightly. “Now yea look here ye. I might be werkin fer the “Cult” but I’s gotsta earn a living ya know. I gotsta make shipments or my head be on a pike! Besides, why can’t a fit blighter like yerself walk to wheres ever ye be goin’?”

Pyriuss twitched “See here now, whoever else your working for, will most likely agree with me when I say that the Cult of Shadows will do far worse to you. I don’t know how this affects my mission, but if it does, you can bet my superiors won’t hesitate to “correct” you on your lack of judgement.” Not a single word there sounded like his.

Captian Flogwart nodded “If that be yer wishin me b’y, but now that we’s here I ain’t leavin’.”

Pyriuss muttered a foul oath and walked over to his troops. All ten of them looked on him almost blankly, he thought he detected a hint of approval on their faces. They would have likely dealt with the situation a little more aggressively, but they must have thought he did a good enough job.

“Well then let’s go.”

[Formendacil]

Grid: P-10
Location: Hemmerington

The New Year had just begun. Hemmerington's lengthy festive season between Yuletide and New Year's had finally ground to a halt, and the villagers had gone into near-hermitage after the social week gone by.

The MacDouglas family was sitting in front of their fire late one early January afternoon, Fredfry having stopped his glassblowing for the day at lunch, business being slow. Orla was knitting a long scarf for Enrie Givillie. The two of them had started courting after Oktoberfest, and Orla was already talking of marriage, although the boys in the village hadn't heard a word of such a thing from Enrie.

Fredfry and Brigit were sitting together, his arm around her shoulders, and were gazing into the fire. Maeve was also knitting, but hers was a sweater for a young cousin in Josstshire.

It was a quiet, lazy afternoon. Outside, a gentle snow was falling, and Kevin the Gongfarmer could be heard across the quiet, his shovel scratching roughly on the cobblestones.

"Mother," said Orla, putting down her scarf for a moment, "is it all right if Enrie comes over for dinner tomorrow? There's something we'd like to discuss with you."

Maeve sat up in her chair, and Fredfry's face froze in the position it was sitting in.

"What sort of something?" asked Brigit, sweetly, but a bit stiffly.

"Well, Enrie's looking to apprentice, and he was wondering if he could try glassblowing."

Fredfry's face relaxed Brigit sank back into his arms, and Maeve resumed knitting. A moment of silence came- soon to be broken by the sound of horses' hooves, somewhat muffled on the snow outside. Then there was a shout- Orla thought it was Erik Korvalt- and what sounded like a happy reunion.

Orla went to the window, and threw open the shutters, letting a breeze of chilly winter air in.

"Close the shutter, dear!" said Brigit.

"Brian Broughton's back!" said Orla. "And- good Chodan!- he's got Thomas Valt with him!"

"What?" Maeve dropped her knitting, stumbled to her feet, and peered out the window.

"And there's a man with them as well," said Orla.

"And a girl!" said Maeve hotly. She had always fancied Thomas.

"A girl?" said Brigit, joined them at the window, "let me see!"

"She's rather pretty, isn't she?" said Orla.

"I don't think so," said Maeve.

"She's rich, whatever she looks like," said Brigit. "Look how she holds herself- and the embroidery on that cloak."

"Probably a spoiled brat," said Maeve.

"Tom's sure done well for himself," said Orla. "Those are real riding horses they're on, and that other man seems to be deferring to him."

"Look at those Korvalt boys," said Brigit. "Looking at them, you'd think Yuletide had come again!"

"I wonder where Tom will stay," said Orla. "Medao and his wife have the old Brakespear place."

"Probably with the Korvalts," said Maeve. "I wonder if SHE's staying there too. Probably sleeping REAL close..."

"Enough of that, Maeve!" said Brigit. "Now, you girls see that your father gets supper. I'm going down to the Whettons. I bet that Roberta hasn't heard a thing, with those thick shutters of hers." Brigit grabbed a cloak, and was gone.

"Would you girls close the shutters," said Fredfry, still in his seat. "It's getting cold in here."

EDITED TO CORRECT A FREUDIAN SLIP

[Lord_Of_The_LEGO]

"Enough of that, Maeve!" said Brigit. "Now, you girls see that your father gets supper. I'm going down to the Whettons. I bet that Roberta hasn't heard a thing, with those thick shutters of hers."

"Would you girls close the shutters," said Fredfry, still in his seat. "It's getting cold in here."

Grid: P-10
Location: Hemmerington

Orla and Maeve obliged, Maeve slamming the shutters closed harder than necessary. As they dished up bowls of steaming soup, Maeve, again, being a bit more brusque than was needed, Brigit bundled up.

“I’ll be back in a spell, you three!” she called, at the doorway, “Eat without me!”

The door shut.

“I most certainly will.” said Fredfry, diving into his soup, “Brigit and her gossip. She won’t be back ‘til the whole village knows, and then some.”

Maeve ground her spoon about in her bowl noisily.

***

As Brigit bustled --- waddled, rather -- through the snow, she passed Alice Clooney, who was carrying a basket of dried herbs under her arm.

“Evening, Mrs. MacDouglas.” greeted Alice, “My, you are in a rush.”

Brigit smiled, fumbling with her slipping scarves.

“I was just on my way to Roberta…I really must tell her! Tom’s returned!”

“Thomas Valt?” said Alice, “He’s back in Hemmerington?”

“Yes, dear,” said Brigit, still struggling with the scarves, “he returned with Brian Broughton. And…” Brigit winked slyly, “He’s got a lady-friend.”

Alice laughed.

“Ah ha ha. No wonder you’re in such a hurry. Well, I will see you later.”

“Good day, dear.”

As Brigit shuffled off, Alice, smiling, turned off the road and pushed open the door of her small house. Dale looked up from the iron-cast stove he had just fed. His face was flushed from the heat.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, rising and brushing bits of bark and ash his hands -- hands that had now become rough and callused.

“Poor Tom.” laughed Alice, placing the basket of herbs on the table, “Poor, poor Tom…”

“Tom?” Dale looked puzzled, then his face cleared, “Thomas Valt? That person you mentioned awhile back -- the one who went off with a big knight?”

“Yes.” said Alice, now removing the herbs from the basket, “Thomas Valt. He’s returned, and with a lady-friend in tow. Babs Lorans is going to have a field day.”

Babs Lorans, Old Gherry’s older sister, was the queen of gossip in Hemmerington. Widowed for twenty years (Babs was ninety-eight and spry as ever), she spent her days on Gherry’s porch with her other lady friends, Laura Rochtinger, Jane Frebstan, Lois Obilfree, and Amelia Singer-MacDouglas, knitting and discussing every little happening in Hemmerington. Currently it was the new romance between Amelia’s great-granddaughter, Orla, and “that spry rogue Enrie Givillie.” But that was about to change.

“Aha.” Dale chuckled, “I pity that Tom. Those ladies can be ruthless. Especially armed with those knitting needles.”

[Lord_Of_The_LEGO]

The crazed, dying beast was charging straight towards the unconscious forms of Storm, Mikelen and Jaythus.

Grid: S-1
Location: Solitaire Island

Santis, Viktor and Solesstorn lurched forward as the closed in on the others. Santis threw his hammer with all his might, which was considerable. The hammer cracked the armored body of the scorpion, and Viktor and Solesstorn as once plunged their blades into the exposed soft flesh. The scorpion reared about, tail swishing dangerously -- then collapsed. Muscle spasms shook it, but it’s brain was dead. Soon the scorpion lay still. Santis, Viktor and Solesstorn eased around the still-deadly poisoned tail and rushed to Storm, Jaythus and Mikelen. Storm was already stirring -- shoving back her visor and blinking rapidly, fumbling for her sword. Jaythus was breathing deeply, his eyes opened. He was stunned, not unconscious. As for Mikelen…
Viktor was cursing rapidly. He removed his hand from Mikelen’s wrist and shut the man’s blankly staring eyes. Storm pulled off her helmet, then stared at Mikelen. Her breath came in shuddering breaths. She stared at Viktor, as if saying, “No!”

“Well, wizard,” said Viktor, biting off his words, “Looks like you're going to get your first expendable. Happy?”

Storm let out a wailing banshee shriek. She lunged at Mikelen and embraced the body that was beginning to bloat from poison. Her sobs wracked her body, echoing in the cave.

Jaythus sucked in a long breath.

"Is he dead?"

"No." snapped Viktor, "But he should be. He was shot with enough venom to take down a dragon."

"He's in a coma?" asked Santis.

Viktor nodded sharply. Solesstorn looked into the burning eyes of Viktor and said, “I didn’t mean it to be like this.”

“I bet.” snapped Viktor, “I just bet. Why didn’t you use your megabloks magic! Why suddenly go all physical! You forget to bring your favorite toad?”

Solesstorn waved his hand about almost helplessly.

“Look around you. Those crystals block magic. I can’t perform magic down here.”

“Absol-tyco-lutly wonderful!” Viktor kicked the scorpion, the exoskeleton crunching, “Then please explain to me, mister useless wizard, how the bloody buildit are we going to get up there!”

Viktor pointed sharply with Santis’ blade, to the hole twenty feet about their heads.

“We don’t.” said Solesstorn calmly, “That scorpion was here for a reason. It was guarding something. And entrance.”

“Wonderful!” said Viktor, “And I betcha there’s more of those where this son of a tyco came from!”

Viktor kicked the scorpion again.

Solesstorn flared up.

“I am not a god!" he shouted, "I'm not all powerful! I can't prevent all the ills that befall us!"

"Then you should have taken greater care so that we didn't befall such ills." retorted Viktor.

Solesstorn brandished his staff.

"I--"

"SHUT UP!" bellowed Santis, smashing his warhammer into the ground, "SHUT UP BOTH OF YOU!"

Viktor and Solesstorn quieted, chests heaving.

"This is not the place nor the time to argue!" said Santis, "We've got to get out of here, and the only way I see possible is through there!"

Everyone looked. A large opening in the far wall of the cave beckoned ominously.

"The scorpion was guarding something." continuing Santis, "Perhaps it can get us out of this hellhole. Viktor."

Santis tossed Viktor his warhammer.

"Take that. I'll carry Mikelen. Let's go."

[Formendacil]

Grid: P-10
Location: Hemmerington

"THOMAS!!!"

Thomas was knocked over in mid-sentence by Erik Korvalt tackling him in a massive hug, that left him gasping for breath.

"Erik?" he gasped. "Erik! In the name of Dametreos, it's good to see you!"

Erik was already calling his brothers out of the Pu' in an echoing voice that sounded across the square. Paul and Matthew Korvalt soon appeared.

"THOMAS!!!"

After enduring another round of painful hugs, Thomas looked around to see Merina and William grinning bemusedly at him.

"Guys," he said to the Korvalts, "I'd like to introduce William Jorgenson, a hunter and trapper from Lion Island, and Lady Merina Valenti, of the Black Falcons."

The brothers enthusiatically pumped William's hand, and awkwardly bowed to Merina with "pleased to meet you, milady"s.

"Gosh, she's pretty," whispered Matthew to Paul, but not so quietly that Thomas, Merina, and William didn't hear.

"Lucky rogue," whispered Erik more quietly, but still not quietly enough, as he nudged Thomas with his elbow.

"Enough of that!" said Thomas, seeing Merina starting to blush, and wanting to deflect the attention.

"So are you going to stay with us?" asked Erik, "seeing as you don't have a house anymore. Come on, say yes! Paul, Matt, let's grab their stuff for them, it's been a long trip."

"Are you sure?" asked Thomas, "it won't bother your mother."

"Are you kidding?" said Paul, "you're Mum's favourite, Tom. She'll be tickled pink having you in the house. And a lady, too!"

Merina blushed, and party started across the village, to the far side where the Korvalts lived on the edge of town. Thomas was uncomfortably aware of the number of windows that had flown open at the noise, and the number of people who had appeared in the streets to get a better look. Most of them called out a "Welcome back, Tom!" as they passed, but he could hear snatches of other words, carried on the wind.

"Thomas Valt, old Brakespear's grandson..."

"Who's she, I wonder..."

"Looks like a tough bloke, if you ask me..."

"Nice horses..."

"Bit of snob, no doubt..."

"Done well, it seems..."

"Look at that embroidery!"

".... if he's engaged yet..."

All the same, the whispering aside, it was great, Thomas decided to be back in his hometown.

They passed the Loran place. Babs Loran and all four of her "gossip circle", as Old Gherry put it, had hobbled out of doors, despite the cold and their old age, to get a glimpse of "the girl". Brigit MacDouglas could be seen standing behind Babs, holding out a shawl for the old woman.

Perhaps it was all the noise and attention, but Merina's horse chose that precise moment to get skittish, and to rear. Merina, taking in the village sights and sounds, was unprepared, and found herself thrown backwards, off the horse, and into a snowbank.

"Merina!" said Thomas, with just enough urgency to send the old ladies tittering.

Merina was already pulling herself up when Thomas reached her, and offered a steady hand as she rose to her feet. He began dusting the snow off her.

"Are you..."

"I'm fine, Thomas," said Merina, with a roll of her eyes, "honestly, I'm not made of china."

This scene of Thomas' concern did not escape the old ladies' notice- or the other villagers'- short though their sight may have been going.

"Clearly smitten," said Amelia Singer-MacDouglas. "Not a wit left about him."

Thomas offered Merina a gentlemanly boost into her saddle, then grabbed his own reins, and walked on behind the Korvalts, who had stopped and waited.

However, it seemed that the fall had, in fact, not been beneficial to Merina, for she began to cough, lightly at first, but soon heavier.

"Oh no!" said Thomas, and both he and William started towards Merina. Thomas caught her as she slackened in the saddle, and William grabbed a waterskin of now-cold Lipton tea for her. Clinging tightly to Thomas, Merina managed to control the coughing long enough to swallow some of the tea, which, despite its cool state, soothed the coughing.

"Better not ride," said Thomas. "Anyway, it's not far."

"Not much taste, though," declaimed Babs, with the other women, her opinion swaying those of the others. "No stamina. And pretty spoiled, if she needs two men to help her. Looks like a charmer, and a man-catcher, this one. Probably a homewrecker as well."

The other ladies nodded, with only Lois offering any resistance.

"She looked more ill than manipulative to me," she said.

"One can be both," said Babs, authoritatively. "And if she is ill, then she's no good as a wife. She'll die in childbirth. Thomas should have gone for your daughter, Brigit. I know she fancied him."

"I'd not have minded him as a son-in-law, to be sure," said Brigit. "He always was a kind and handsome one, that Tom."

The old ladies shook their heads at the sight of Merina leaning heavily on Thomas as they made their way to the Korvalt home.

"Tom should see the way of things eventually," said Babs. "Wilma Korvalt's got a good head on her shoulders, and she's always wanted what's best for him. She'll talk some sense into him."

This time it was Amelia that dissented.

"I don't know," she said. "I've seen that look a hundred times, and never once has the man it's on seen sense, though Chodan knows it hasn't been for lack of trying on my part."

"He'll see sense," said Babs, firmly.

"Would you women closed the danged door!" came the voice of Gherry from in the house. "Do you want to catch cold?"

Only when Thomas and Merina had rounded the corner just before the Korvalts did the ladies return to the house.

"Gherry, dear," said Babs. "Supper will be ready in half an hour."

"Don't bother!" said Gherry, who was bundled up and clutching his cane. "I'm off to Melkan's. I've had enough of women's gossip for one day."

And knowing that Thomas Valt would be all the talk over supper, Old Gherry left the widows to eat their meal in peace.