The Misadventures of Two Untwinked Javazons
- Thread starter Maltatai
- Start date
This is both a continuation, in spirit and initial setting, of my bowazon story and a tale of it's own about the two annoying new protagonists. It is extremely not serious and since I am very inexperienced with javelin characters it is doubtful whether they will live to finish the game. As you might have guessed from the latest statement they are hardcore characters, and also untwinked* ones without any extra stash of any kind and no rune word mod.
Stay tuned for regular updates or completely random lack of those, depending on how much time I have for the characters. Happy reading
*Twinking is a gaming term referring to outfitting a character with equipment found by other characters.
Stay tuned for regular updates or completely random lack of those, depending on how much time I have for the characters. Happy reading
*Twinking is a gaming term referring to outfitting a character with equipment found by other characters.
Episode 1. The Pointy Sticks of Sanctuary
Maltatai: Welcome to the storytellers corner of the great victory celebrations of Lycander following the stunning success of Rödluvan and Snövit. The green Askungen (Swedish for Cinderella) has stormed into the festivities, furious about having been left home by the named former protagonists to do all the housework. Snövit and Rödluvan deny everything and claim that Askungen freely remained behind due to disagreements about due democratic procedure and tiresome formalities. In any case, Askungen has demanded that all listen to her story about how saving Sanctuary really should have been done. With at least a week of celebrations on the schedule and a seemingly endless supply of gold and loot, she is likely to have plenty of time and opportunity for it. Over to Askungen!
Askungen: I’m a bit suspicious of this storyteller thing. What exactly do we really need Maltatai for?
Snövit: Oh, he can be loads of fun. Very annoying sometimes but it’s very convenient to have someone else do the work of keeping track of all the details. Sort of like a secretary, maybe.
Rödluvan: The choice s yours, though. We will abide your decision. Taken after due deliberation and grassroot grazing of course.
Askungen: Your feeble attempt at sarcasm is not lost to me. But I understand that you are just jealous of my success that is soon about to eclipse yours. So be it; Maltatai can assist me in telling the tale of how the campaign against evil should have been done.
Maltatai: “So be it” what?
Askungen: What do you mean?
Maltatai: You put a semicolon after the “it”, that means that everything after that on the same line is ignored.
Snövit: Hehehehe…
Rödluvan: Haha!
Askungen: That was… Of all stupid jokes… And I have allowed this fool to join in my storytelling! What have I done!?
Maltatai: To start with, how would you have arranged your skill points?
Askungen: A reasonable start. You may yet be of use. Flimsy bows and crossbows are just plain stupid. You can’t use a shield and excessive cold and heat is damaging the environment. Javelins are the way to go! My plan would be as follows:
Being neither left nor right I combine the best of both worlds maxing inner sight and decoy. My poison damage is not, as prejudiced and uneducated people would have you believe, harmful for plants or animals but only affects the legions of evil. Except for the vile top-managed coalition governments.
Snövit: Thanks a lot!
Rödluvan: The same to you!
Askungen: Cease your pointless interruptions, otherwise we will never get anywhere. Where was I, now…
Maltatai: You environmentally friendly neighbourhood poisons…
Askungen: Yes. Amazons are obviously meant to use javelins which anyone with even the slightest grain of a brain would realise. I mean, why else would we all start with a javelin and shield?
Snövit: Because javelins are cheap junk that nobody wants and therefore abundantly available.
Askungen: Be silent! I’m the chairwoman of this meeting and I decree that you have not been allowed to speak at this moment! Javelins are the way to go and I know it. My conviction (which is awesomely green by the way) in this point is total. Even if the first monster that dropped something may have dropped a quiver of arrows I would have stayed on the true path.
Maltatai: This would and should thing sounds so demanding all the time. Can’t you tell how the campaign should have been done in past tense? As in showing us how the victory report and boasting afterwards should have been done?
Askungen: Hmm… That might work.
Rödluvan: Yes please! We have had more than enough of “should” and “would” from you before to last for months to come!
Askungen: But this minor concession does not mean you get to interrupt as you please! I cannot believe how any storyteller could put up with that.
Maltatai: Nor do I…
Rödluvan and Snövit: “grins broadly in Maltatai’s direction”
Askungen: Well then, this is how the story of the thrilling escapades should have continued. In the Den of Evil the appalling item luck continued. Quiver after quiver. But then, it is the den of evil after all so obviously there were lots of arrows and bolt stacked there… Since archers are the most evil of all… Chief of them the despicable Bowazons of course…
Rödluvan: WE. GET. IT.
Askungen: After reaching level 6 I could at last unleash the green fury at the stupid zombies and other dangerous foes. It was actually pretty comical to watch them sluggishly attempting to get close while choking on my poisonous shaft. I thought that this excellent performance would impress the rogues enough to consider starting a small scale community committee but everyone outside the rogue camp except Flavie just continued to be totally hostile to me. Maybe the red clothing I still wore had something to do with it. Obviously the white rogues would not take kindly to red visitors. But their shoulder pads really should count as at least half red. Hypocrites.
Poison javelin was incredibly powerful right from the start. Even without the impact cloud of plague javelin it can hit a lot of people if you aim properly and make them run into the trailing cloud. Fallen shamans are especially funny to hit when the minions chase you across the javelin trail. After destroying Blood Raven, Kashya awarded me with a supervisor…ahem, noble companion and sister-in-arms. Her name was Aliza, a rogue, as surprising as it may sound.
And now I want a plate of that fish! Hurry up, please, waiters and chefs!
Meshif: Would you like potatoes or rice along with the fish?
Snövit: You’re not going anywhere! Send Waheed or someone… I’m far too comfortable here to bear being left alone.
Meshif: Work, work…
____________________________________________________________
Maltatai: Right, as the rest of the partying adventuring parties are busy I will take the opportunity to read out a letter I happened to find here for no obvious reason. It’s almost like a propaganda flyer hidden here waiting to be shared with the broader public. Obviously cheesy to the point of laughable…signed “Törnrosa” (Swedish for Sleeping Beauty)…here is what it says…
Törnrosa: Ha! Already I can see the puny base level organisation failing miserably. It’s pitiful. Nonononono, that’s not the way to do things. People don’t want to debate politics all day or discuss decisions in a dusty local committee. People want things to be done for them so they don’t have to spend all their time with politics. Let’s face it. Politics is boring. Very. Just leave that to me and others who have the knack for these sorts of things. I’ll take care of everything for you – agriculture, shipping, defence policy (especially), religion, administration, transportation and parks – in short: everything.
I will rule from above, from behind the scenes – leave it all to me. Enlightenment shall spread across Sanctuary and a new and shining order of the world will engulf our spirited future! But I am getting ahead of myself… Let’s start at the beginning. I have started stylishly by jabbing with my simple but elegant javelins, properly boosted by a shining blessing from obviously higher powers. It was clearly by divine mandate and administrative will that I valiantly cleared the hideous Den of Evil!
I will continue to spread the illuminating grace with lightning speed lightning strikes in the form of
I will CERTAINLY not mix and blend the lowly proletarian skills like some everyday grassroots rabble-rouser. My specialised skills are carefully chosen from those not spoiled by the touch of the peasantry. Power Strike will despatch the leaders of most enemies. Strike down the leader and the mob scatters. Elementary, my dear so far non-existent sidekick. Lightning Strike will show the crowd what horrible odds they’re up against and catch the scattering followers as they struggle to escape. For the really ignorant mobs without any ear for the new light of mine, Fend will hopefully do the trick quickly so I won’t have to see them any more. Lastly, what could be more illuminating and shining than the glowing, divine Valkyrie?
It is a well-known fact that most smart heroes hunt for topazes early to adorn their armour and turn it glowingly yellow. Obviously a sign of the supremacy of my element. And so stylish. I just needed something to cover the arms as well. I showed the little white and red mongrels what true power is like as I struck…well…head-butted Blood Raven back to the grave. But I am after all the head character. And my golden hair is illuminating enough. In gratitude for my great service I gained a spirited if somewhat unrefined follower named Floria. She had apparently met Amazons before but not wanted to follow them on their adventures too far away from home. Afterwards, though, she had begun to wish for a little more adventure. She may prove to be an illuminating asset with her fiery arrows…they do shine quite a bit despite their red theme…
Floria is sometimes something of a smart-ass brat, though. As I exclaimed my displeasure with a small snake choosing my resting shield as resting place, she remarked that the plain was in fact not lightless but lit up by the waypoint flames and the light coming from sidekicks and protagonists in a hitherto unexplained manner.
Fear not. Doubt not. I am here. I am your light. I am your future. I AM TÖRNROSA!
Maltatai: Aaaarh, no, not another ideological conflict. By my metaphorical quill and parchment, this was cheesy. I suppose it is fitting since cheeses are usually yellow and white like the favoured colours of this luminous faction. Now I am going to get something to eat as well. Over and out.
Askungen: I’m a bit suspicious of this storyteller thing. What exactly do we really need Maltatai for?
Snövit: Oh, he can be loads of fun. Very annoying sometimes but it’s very convenient to have someone else do the work of keeping track of all the details. Sort of like a secretary, maybe.
Rödluvan: The choice s yours, though. We will abide your decision. Taken after due deliberation and grassroot grazing of course.
Askungen: Your feeble attempt at sarcasm is not lost to me. But I understand that you are just jealous of my success that is soon about to eclipse yours. So be it; Maltatai can assist me in telling the tale of how the campaign against evil should have been done.
Maltatai: “So be it” what?
Askungen: What do you mean?
Maltatai: You put a semicolon after the “it”, that means that everything after that on the same line is ignored.
Snövit: Hehehehe…
Rödluvan: Haha!
Askungen: That was… Of all stupid jokes… And I have allowed this fool to join in my storytelling! What have I done!?
Maltatai: To start with, how would you have arranged your skill points?
Askungen: A reasonable start. You may yet be of use. Flimsy bows and crossbows are just plain stupid. You can’t use a shield and excessive cold and heat is damaging the environment. Javelins are the way to go! My plan would be as follows:
Being neither left nor right I combine the best of both worlds maxing inner sight and decoy. My poison damage is not, as prejudiced and uneducated people would have you believe, harmful for plants or animals but only affects the legions of evil. Except for the vile top-managed coalition governments.
Snövit: Thanks a lot!
Rödluvan: The same to you!
Askungen: Cease your pointless interruptions, otherwise we will never get anywhere. Where was I, now…
Maltatai: You environmentally friendly neighbourhood poisons…
Askungen: Yes. Amazons are obviously meant to use javelins which anyone with even the slightest grain of a brain would realise. I mean, why else would we all start with a javelin and shield?
Snövit: Because javelins are cheap junk that nobody wants and therefore abundantly available.
Askungen: Be silent! I’m the chairwoman of this meeting and I decree that you have not been allowed to speak at this moment! Javelins are the way to go and I know it. My conviction (which is awesomely green by the way) in this point is total. Even if the first monster that dropped something may have dropped a quiver of arrows I would have stayed on the true path.
Maltatai: This would and should thing sounds so demanding all the time. Can’t you tell how the campaign should have been done in past tense? As in showing us how the victory report and boasting afterwards should have been done?
Askungen: Hmm… That might work.
Rödluvan: Yes please! We have had more than enough of “should” and “would” from you before to last for months to come!
Askungen: But this minor concession does not mean you get to interrupt as you please! I cannot believe how any storyteller could put up with that.
Maltatai: Nor do I…
Rödluvan and Snövit: “grins broadly in Maltatai’s direction”
Askungen: Well then, this is how the story of the thrilling escapades should have continued. In the Den of Evil the appalling item luck continued. Quiver after quiver. But then, it is the den of evil after all so obviously there were lots of arrows and bolt stacked there… Since archers are the most evil of all… Chief of them the despicable Bowazons of course…
Rödluvan: WE. GET. IT.
Askungen: After reaching level 6 I could at last unleash the green fury at the stupid zombies and other dangerous foes. It was actually pretty comical to watch them sluggishly attempting to get close while choking on my poisonous shaft. I thought that this excellent performance would impress the rogues enough to consider starting a small scale community committee but everyone outside the rogue camp except Flavie just continued to be totally hostile to me. Maybe the red clothing I still wore had something to do with it. Obviously the white rogues would not take kindly to red visitors. But their shoulder pads really should count as at least half red. Hypocrites.
Poison javelin was incredibly powerful right from the start. Even without the impact cloud of plague javelin it can hit a lot of people if you aim properly and make them run into the trailing cloud. Fallen shamans are especially funny to hit when the minions chase you across the javelin trail. After destroying Blood Raven, Kashya awarded me with a supervisor…ahem, noble companion and sister-in-arms. Her name was Aliza, a rogue, as surprising as it may sound.
And now I want a plate of that fish! Hurry up, please, waiters and chefs!
Meshif: Would you like potatoes or rice along with the fish?
Snövit: You’re not going anywhere! Send Waheed or someone… I’m far too comfortable here to bear being left alone.
Meshif: Work, work…
____________________________________________________________
Maltatai: Right, as the rest of the partying adventuring parties are busy I will take the opportunity to read out a letter I happened to find here for no obvious reason. It’s almost like a propaganda flyer hidden here waiting to be shared with the broader public. Obviously cheesy to the point of laughable…signed “Törnrosa” (Swedish for Sleeping Beauty)…here is what it says…
Törnrosa: Ha! Already I can see the puny base level organisation failing miserably. It’s pitiful. Nonononono, that’s not the way to do things. People don’t want to debate politics all day or discuss decisions in a dusty local committee. People want things to be done for them so they don’t have to spend all their time with politics. Let’s face it. Politics is boring. Very. Just leave that to me and others who have the knack for these sorts of things. I’ll take care of everything for you – agriculture, shipping, defence policy (especially), religion, administration, transportation and parks – in short: everything.
I will rule from above, from behind the scenes – leave it all to me. Enlightenment shall spread across Sanctuary and a new and shining order of the world will engulf our spirited future! But I am getting ahead of myself… Let’s start at the beginning. I have started stylishly by jabbing with my simple but elegant javelins, properly boosted by a shining blessing from obviously higher powers. It was clearly by divine mandate and administrative will that I valiantly cleared the hideous Den of Evil!
I will continue to spread the illuminating grace with lightning speed lightning strikes in the form of
I will CERTAINLY not mix and blend the lowly proletarian skills like some everyday grassroots rabble-rouser. My specialised skills are carefully chosen from those not spoiled by the touch of the peasantry. Power Strike will despatch the leaders of most enemies. Strike down the leader and the mob scatters. Elementary, my dear so far non-existent sidekick. Lightning Strike will show the crowd what horrible odds they’re up against and catch the scattering followers as they struggle to escape. For the really ignorant mobs without any ear for the new light of mine, Fend will hopefully do the trick quickly so I won’t have to see them any more. Lastly, what could be more illuminating and shining than the glowing, divine Valkyrie?
It is a well-known fact that most smart heroes hunt for topazes early to adorn their armour and turn it glowingly yellow. Obviously a sign of the supremacy of my element. And so stylish. I just needed something to cover the arms as well. I showed the little white and red mongrels what true power is like as I struck…well…head-butted Blood Raven back to the grave. But I am after all the head character. And my golden hair is illuminating enough. In gratitude for my great service I gained a spirited if somewhat unrefined follower named Floria. She had apparently met Amazons before but not wanted to follow them on their adventures too far away from home. Afterwards, though, she had begun to wish for a little more adventure. She may prove to be an illuminating asset with her fiery arrows…they do shine quite a bit despite their red theme…
Floria is sometimes something of a smart-ass brat, though. As I exclaimed my displeasure with a small snake choosing my resting shield as resting place, she remarked that the plain was in fact not lightless but lit up by the waypoint flames and the light coming from sidekicks and protagonists in a hitherto unexplained manner.
Fear not. Doubt not. I am here. I am your light. I am your future. I AM TÖRNROSA!
Maltatai: Aaaarh, no, not another ideological conflict. By my metaphorical quill and parchment, this was cheesy. I suppose it is fitting since cheeses are usually yellow and white like the favoured colours of this luminous faction. Now I am going to get something to eat as well. Over and out.
pietsen:
Maltatai:I started reading your Bowazon story a couple of days ago and I think it's very amusing. And now another one is being written! I'm looking forward to this. Keep up the good work
Episode 2. Rune the Ruin
Maltatai: Now back from prying the pots and pans of the Lycander kitchen, we can all look forward to the next exciting chapter of the tale of Askungen.
Askungen: Yes, as everyone doubtlessly knows, being present and within earshot. Honestly, it's almost like you were addressing some sort of audience crowd listening from far away. Well, well, the green movement is open to everybody. We're a charming bunch, especially after I found a stylish beryl charm. Obviously protecting against foul pesticides and similar fruits of despicable crimes against all that is good. My own poisons are as previously mentioned environmentally friendly vegetably based warfare.
Snövit: That's the second time in not too long that you feel compelled to state how environmentally friendly your poisons are. A little insecure in our calling, are we?
Askungen: Bah! Not at all! After the initial meetings with the collective fallen and individual whiteling rogues my skills and fashionable new age personal development grew at an impressive and alarming (for the vile enemy) rate. Equally fashionable was the new suit of ring mail that I had gotten by mail order from Charsi. With the right touch (a gems worth of green dye applied before everything else) it looked quite promising. Just needed something for the arms. I got myself a matching shield, fabulously dark green. If one just had a suit of plate armour in that tone...
No point waiting more than necessary for that! I had heard rumours about a crazily enchanted book filled with mould that spoke of a tower hidden deep in the Black Marsh, obviously filled with treasures. The book was enchanted to never rot despite being left in the rain for ages and ages. Nor was it ever stolen, probably because it spoke the same old tirade about the tower every time anyone touched it, inevitably causing every listener or reader to faint of boredom. In there lies the answer to why the tower had never been properly looted before, I thought. And think.
Immediately after entering the dark dungeons beneath the ruined tower structure I recognised the foul smell of top-ruling and pollution. Reeking of neglect of natural habitats and meeting procedure, it was clear that I was in a lair of evil most foul and fearsome. So it would obviously be plenty of treasure and useful experience to be had at the archetypical climactic dungeon at the nethermost bottom! I found a nice little charm along the way to guard me against despotic governments.
Rödluvan: You... you spinach-brain!
Askungen: Along the way there were the most horrible creatures. Red goatmen of the community known as the Blood Clan. Bluish corrupted rogues in bourgeoisie livery, obviously lackeys of something terrible. An unholy al...
Snövit: Yes, yes, we understand. Please spare us legions of evil further explanation and proceed with the story. Perhaps to the part where you tell about the colour of the evil boss found in the lowest, darkest room of the hellish pit of terror?
Askungen: Ahhh, that's just a boring detail. I would not wish to tire my dear audience... Let me instead deliberate on how awesome the poison javelins had become by now. I mean, I could one-shot almost anything. Fantastic survivability (obviously, since I am here) when you just need to throw and then run like hell and count to thirty or so.
Rödluvan: No, no, no! Now get to the important part! Down to the vile countess! And what colour she might have been...like environmentally green? Stinking and slimy.
Askungen: I'll have you know that the countess bathed in the RED BLOOOOO-HO-HO-HO-OOOD of her victims. Very red.
Rödluvan: Oooo...K. So, like, "Countess, dead and loving it"?
Snövit: Can we get on with the story? I think the colour jokes deserve a little vacation for now.
Maltatai: Look who's talking. It's absolutely not like you and Rödluvan insulted each other by derogatory comparisons to red and blue enemies and annoyingly constant bickering about the lacquering of the valkyrie armour. Totally never happened. In any case, the countess was green as everyone knows. But contrary to what her colour suggests, she wouldn't have been very resistant to the poisons.
Askungen: I am supposed to be telling that! Do not interrupt again, please. Where was I...contrary to what her colour suggests, the countess was not very resistant to poisons. I easily disposed of her with a hit or two and much running around in her little audience chamber. Aliza was really smart here, and took cover behind some barrels. It was very amusing to see the countessly retainers struggle to come close to her. Hehehehe... (evil mastermind laughter).
Maltatai: Thank you for the fascinating account! Or, is there any more coming for now? I just assumed it was the end of this episode of the story since there was an evil mastermind laughter.
Askungen: It's quite alright. I think I will have a look at the barbeque table now - onward!
Rödluvan: Onward, mighty saladmonger!
Snövit: Forward, brave broccoli champion!
Askungen: I'll even bring a bowl of cooked spinach to throw at you two!
_________________________________________________
Maltatai: To pass the time while the other main characters are off debating the alternative uses of green vegetables, I happen to have a few pages from a journal to read out loud. It is decorated with lightning and stars and shining crowns on the cover...and inside there are some more of the same thing scribbled in the margins. And a drawing of, no this can't BE...with a heart around it ahahahaHAAAhaha! Ahem, let's see, here is a chapter that seems to be related to the time- and difficulty level-frame of the latest adventures of Askungen and Aliza.
Törnrosa: Minions! How they get on your nerves some day! I am SO almost contemplating sacking Floria completely if this irreverent behaviour continues. She said that I was just "caving for attention" when I was in fact mounting a sophisticated rescue operation to present a likeable front to the masses. Floria and I had been tasked with the dangerous mission to acquire the old note of Inifuss, hidden in a dead tree just an underground and a stony field away from the cold plains. Although "note" or "scroll" is not very apt, it is more like a poster for the whole thing takes up four entire inventory slots...two thirds of what a full suit of plated armour would! Surely this dramatic escapade would prove that matters of, well, everything of sufficient importance, would be best left to those suited for it.
The creatures in the stony field were hardly a hindrance although the evil rogues had degenerated further here and actually used bows against me. Bows, the incarnation of the unclean evil in its purest form!
Maltatai: Hmm, isn't that a contradiction in terms? Unclean evil in its purest form? Anyway, where was I...yes, the caves.
Törnrosa: Down underground there were sickly yellowish rogues (sickly because they had traces of red on them) and the ugliest monster present in the world: The Green Mishappen. Furthermore, the corrupted rogues were led by a horrible grassroot - obviously proof of the worldwide environmentalist collaboration with evil!
Along the way I found many neat little items and my charms have grown to sway more and more subjects to the true path. I have also taken to wearing a glowing belt just out of principle. Time and again I have heard that such properties are supposed to be regarded as useless and junk! How uneducated of the ignorant mob. But what can be expected of those oafs? Lucky they are to have someone like me to take care of things for them.
The poster of In-a-fuss activated the Cain Stones, opening a gateway to Cain. I mean Cairn Stones. There was a spectacular start with flashing lightning striking the green grass but then it settled into an anticlimactic red portal surrounded by the same blue lights as before. Then it was just as well that I had to enter the portal and get out of the place. Tristram was infested with murky skeletons, carvers and goats. A huge ombudsman of the smithing labour union kept approaching me so I eventually had to stab him to put him in his place.
Maltatai: Ombudsman is actually an English word as well. It is one of the more peculiar words borrowed from Scandinavia (but smörgåsbord-smorgasbord takes the price any day). It represents a function and tradition to be proud of though (scrutinising administration, courts and government on behalf of parliaments), so it's far from the worst things exported from back home. Perhaps Sanctuary should have such a function to make sure the Executive Amazonian Boards don't overstep (or overshoot) their authorities?
Törnrosa: I was given a worthless ring from the impoverished simple folks. It is scant compensation but I hope that these kinds of actions will pay off in followers in the long run.
During my travels through the fields and the dark park labelled as "forest" by someone devoid of any sense of topographical terminology I have come across numerous little shrines. This is promising, as religious devotion can sometimes be redirected in a more beneficial direction, but religious indifference is less useful. Curiously, I found some weird sort of red scribbling on one, one with a button marked "DANGER DO NOT PUSH". Those shrines seem more powerful than the others. There is something alluring with them. You are almost involuntarily drawn to them. Floria felt it as well, maybe even more than me. Glassy eyes, evident tunnel vision, an under other circumstances pleasingly reverent look on her face...
I came across a red sash at one point. It had an inscription "Death to those that taketh his sash as their own". Why would death need a sash? Isn't it supposed to be a cloak or something? No matter, fear of death is a useful tool for keeping control so I kept the sash. Perhaps it may become useful in the future. Lastly, but not leastly, I wield a stack of fabulously stylish pila, a heavy kind of javelin perfectly suited for stabbing as well. It is apparently named Storm Branch - THE stick to deliver lightning strikes.
If rescuing old prophets is not enough, what would be, I thought. Perhaps one should have a temple for submissive believers to gather at, or an office where bureaucratic administrative secretaries can gather to plot how to manipulate the latest gullible minister. This abandoned tower looked promising. It did however have two major flaws. First, it was not abandoned, it was already known and not just that, it was inhabited by the grassroots! Growing from the roots of the tower cellar, which shouldn't be such a surprise now that you think about it, the evil influence spread upward using the false label of a the sophisticated nobility of the realm, posing as countess. Second, the whole place was filled with skeletons (not animated) and coffins and other useless junk all over the walls. Where would I have the confusing state papers stored? The religious idols and relics? The secret registers of the political opinions of the subjects? The royal regalia?
While there weren't much room to use, there were some rather useful items there for the taking. Among others was a rather fine collection of runes. Some day I think I will have a fast bow crafted with some of them for Floria, if she could only learn to behave. No class, typical of the small folk. I did actually pass her a compliment at one time in the pits close to the monastery. Shouldn't that be enough?
Maltatai: Management and leadership skills are on top in the yellow "team" I see. Next time the two miscreants face the horrors of monastic upbringings and churchly education. Over and out.
Askungen: Yes, as everyone doubtlessly knows, being present and within earshot. Honestly, it's almost like you were addressing some sort of audience crowd listening from far away. Well, well, the green movement is open to everybody. We're a charming bunch, especially after I found a stylish beryl charm. Obviously protecting against foul pesticides and similar fruits of despicable crimes against all that is good. My own poisons are as previously mentioned environmentally friendly vegetably based warfare.
Snövit: That's the second time in not too long that you feel compelled to state how environmentally friendly your poisons are. A little insecure in our calling, are we?
Askungen: Bah! Not at all! After the initial meetings with the collective fallen and individual whiteling rogues my skills and fashionable new age personal development grew at an impressive and alarming (for the vile enemy) rate. Equally fashionable was the new suit of ring mail that I had gotten by mail order from Charsi. With the right touch (a gems worth of green dye applied before everything else) it looked quite promising. Just needed something for the arms. I got myself a matching shield, fabulously dark green. If one just had a suit of plate armour in that tone...
No point waiting more than necessary for that! I had heard rumours about a crazily enchanted book filled with mould that spoke of a tower hidden deep in the Black Marsh, obviously filled with treasures. The book was enchanted to never rot despite being left in the rain for ages and ages. Nor was it ever stolen, probably because it spoke the same old tirade about the tower every time anyone touched it, inevitably causing every listener or reader to faint of boredom. In there lies the answer to why the tower had never been properly looted before, I thought. And think.
Immediately after entering the dark dungeons beneath the ruined tower structure I recognised the foul smell of top-ruling and pollution. Reeking of neglect of natural habitats and meeting procedure, it was clear that I was in a lair of evil most foul and fearsome. So it would obviously be plenty of treasure and useful experience to be had at the archetypical climactic dungeon at the nethermost bottom! I found a nice little charm along the way to guard me against despotic governments.
Rödluvan: You... you spinach-brain!
Askungen: Along the way there were the most horrible creatures. Red goatmen of the community known as the Blood Clan. Bluish corrupted rogues in bourgeoisie livery, obviously lackeys of something terrible. An unholy al...
Snövit: Yes, yes, we understand. Please spare us legions of evil further explanation and proceed with the story. Perhaps to the part where you tell about the colour of the evil boss found in the lowest, darkest room of the hellish pit of terror?
Askungen: Ahhh, that's just a boring detail. I would not wish to tire my dear audience... Let me instead deliberate on how awesome the poison javelins had become by now. I mean, I could one-shot almost anything. Fantastic survivability (obviously, since I am here) when you just need to throw and then run like hell and count to thirty or so.
Rödluvan: No, no, no! Now get to the important part! Down to the vile countess! And what colour she might have been...like environmentally green? Stinking and slimy.
Askungen: I'll have you know that the countess bathed in the RED BLOOOOO-HO-HO-HO-OOOD of her victims. Very red.
Rödluvan: Oooo...K. So, like, "Countess, dead and loving it"?
Snövit: Can we get on with the story? I think the colour jokes deserve a little vacation for now.
Maltatai: Look who's talking. It's absolutely not like you and Rödluvan insulted each other by derogatory comparisons to red and blue enemies and annoyingly constant bickering about the lacquering of the valkyrie armour. Totally never happened. In any case, the countess was green as everyone knows. But contrary to what her colour suggests, she wouldn't have been very resistant to the poisons.
Askungen: I am supposed to be telling that! Do not interrupt again, please. Where was I...contrary to what her colour suggests, the countess was not very resistant to poisons. I easily disposed of her with a hit or two and much running around in her little audience chamber. Aliza was really smart here, and took cover behind some barrels. It was very amusing to see the countessly retainers struggle to come close to her. Hehehehe... (evil mastermind laughter).
Maltatai: Thank you for the fascinating account! Or, is there any more coming for now? I just assumed it was the end of this episode of the story since there was an evil mastermind laughter.
Askungen: It's quite alright. I think I will have a look at the barbeque table now - onward!
Rödluvan: Onward, mighty saladmonger!
Snövit: Forward, brave broccoli champion!
Askungen: I'll even bring a bowl of cooked spinach to throw at you two!
_________________________________________________
Maltatai: To pass the time while the other main characters are off debating the alternative uses of green vegetables, I happen to have a few pages from a journal to read out loud. It is decorated with lightning and stars and shining crowns on the cover...and inside there are some more of the same thing scribbled in the margins. And a drawing of, no this can't BE...with a heart around it ahahahaHAAAhaha! Ahem, let's see, here is a chapter that seems to be related to the time- and difficulty level-frame of the latest adventures of Askungen and Aliza.
Törnrosa: Minions! How they get on your nerves some day! I am SO almost contemplating sacking Floria completely if this irreverent behaviour continues. She said that I was just "caving for attention" when I was in fact mounting a sophisticated rescue operation to present a likeable front to the masses. Floria and I had been tasked with the dangerous mission to acquire the old note of Inifuss, hidden in a dead tree just an underground and a stony field away from the cold plains. Although "note" or "scroll" is not very apt, it is more like a poster for the whole thing takes up four entire inventory slots...two thirds of what a full suit of plated armour would! Surely this dramatic escapade would prove that matters of, well, everything of sufficient importance, would be best left to those suited for it.
The creatures in the stony field were hardly a hindrance although the evil rogues had degenerated further here and actually used bows against me. Bows, the incarnation of the unclean evil in its purest form!
Maltatai: Hmm, isn't that a contradiction in terms? Unclean evil in its purest form? Anyway, where was I...yes, the caves.
Törnrosa: Down underground there were sickly yellowish rogues (sickly because they had traces of red on them) and the ugliest monster present in the world: The Green Mishappen. Furthermore, the corrupted rogues were led by a horrible grassroot - obviously proof of the worldwide environmentalist collaboration with evil!
Along the way I found many neat little items and my charms have grown to sway more and more subjects to the true path. I have also taken to wearing a glowing belt just out of principle. Time and again I have heard that such properties are supposed to be regarded as useless and junk! How uneducated of the ignorant mob. But what can be expected of those oafs? Lucky they are to have someone like me to take care of things for them.
The poster of In-a-fuss activated the Cain Stones, opening a gateway to Cain. I mean Cairn Stones. There was a spectacular start with flashing lightning striking the green grass but then it settled into an anticlimactic red portal surrounded by the same blue lights as before. Then it was just as well that I had to enter the portal and get out of the place. Tristram was infested with murky skeletons, carvers and goats. A huge ombudsman of the smithing labour union kept approaching me so I eventually had to stab him to put him in his place.
Maltatai: Ombudsman is actually an English word as well. It is one of the more peculiar words borrowed from Scandinavia (but smörgåsbord-smorgasbord takes the price any day). It represents a function and tradition to be proud of though (scrutinising administration, courts and government on behalf of parliaments), so it's far from the worst things exported from back home. Perhaps Sanctuary should have such a function to make sure the Executive Amazonian Boards don't overstep (or overshoot) their authorities?
Törnrosa: I was given a worthless ring from the impoverished simple folks. It is scant compensation but I hope that these kinds of actions will pay off in followers in the long run.
During my travels through the fields and the dark park labelled as "forest" by someone devoid of any sense of topographical terminology I have come across numerous little shrines. This is promising, as religious devotion can sometimes be redirected in a more beneficial direction, but religious indifference is less useful. Curiously, I found some weird sort of red scribbling on one, one with a button marked "DANGER DO NOT PUSH". Those shrines seem more powerful than the others. There is something alluring with them. You are almost involuntarily drawn to them. Floria felt it as well, maybe even more than me. Glassy eyes, evident tunnel vision, an under other circumstances pleasingly reverent look on her face...
I came across a red sash at one point. It had an inscription "Death to those that taketh his sash as their own". Why would death need a sash? Isn't it supposed to be a cloak or something? No matter, fear of death is a useful tool for keeping control so I kept the sash. Perhaps it may become useful in the future. Lastly, but not leastly, I wield a stack of fabulously stylish pila, a heavy kind of javelin perfectly suited for stabbing as well. It is apparently named Storm Branch - THE stick to deliver lightning strikes.
If rescuing old prophets is not enough, what would be, I thought. Perhaps one should have a temple for submissive believers to gather at, or an office where bureaucratic administrative secretaries can gather to plot how to manipulate the latest gullible minister. This abandoned tower looked promising. It did however have two major flaws. First, it was not abandoned, it was already known and not just that, it was inhabited by the grassroots! Growing from the roots of the tower cellar, which shouldn't be such a surprise now that you think about it, the evil influence spread upward using the false label of a the sophisticated nobility of the realm, posing as countess. Second, the whole place was filled with skeletons (not animated) and coffins and other useless junk all over the walls. Where would I have the confusing state papers stored? The religious idols and relics? The secret registers of the political opinions of the subjects? The royal regalia?
While there weren't much room to use, there were some rather useful items there for the taking. Among others was a rather fine collection of runes. Some day I think I will have a fast bow crafted with some of them for Floria, if she could only learn to behave. No class, typical of the small folk. I did actually pass her a compliment at one time in the pits close to the monastery. Shouldn't that be enough?
Maltatai: Management and leadership skills are on top in the yellow "team" I see. Next time the two miscreants face the horrors of monastic upbringings and churchly education. Over and out.
Episode 3. Acting First Lady of the First Act
Maltatai: ”Stomp”, ”crush”, at them, my mercenaries! Drive them out! Back to the sluice-filled pits from where they once came!
Askungen: What are you doing?
Maltatai: Evil spreaders of worldwide sickness have invaded this realm. But now the assault has been repelled, thanks to some hired help. Unfortunately, due to the capricious and fickle nature of mercenaries, they can only be counted upon for a 30-day trial period.
Askungen: Huh!? They DARE give poison damage a bad name? Is that it?
Maltatai: No, I assure you that poisons and other vile chemicals still enjoy the same noble reputation as always. The term “virus” in this case can in this case be used as a useful allegory to how the enemy works. They are a blight both upon the world of Sanctuary and mine as well. A festering blister on the body of our society.
Askungen: What is their goal? Hellish invasions of the world?
Maltatai: Extortion. Equally pathetic in their attempts as well as their value as human beings. Still very annoying and an utter waste of ones time.
Askungen: I wish they could be made to be present here. I always need to practise the noble art of poisoning. PAINFULLY!
Maltatai: Much obliged. Where is the rest of the audience?
Askungen: You aren’t really part of the audience, I dare say you have proven some worth. Perhaps you could continue to fill a role as supplementary storyteller and permanent secretary. Snövit and Rödluvan are being delayed by a silly dispute about who it was that started the mashed potato war here recently. It was a quick escalation from the border dispute of the falling fries. Both sides acted incredibly immaturely.
Maltatai: And who was it that really begun the conflict?
Askungen: “Whistling”
Maltatai: It could of course not have been a third party, discreetly tossing a potato or two from the middle ground, leading both sides to believe they were under attack by the other. Obviously not.
Askungen: “Whistling”
Snövit: YES IT COULD!
Rödluvan: GET HER!
“Rödluvan and Snövit, each slightly covered in mashed potato, charges in and hurls fistfuls of potato peelings at Askungen”
______________________________________________________
Maltatai: Order! Settle down!
Askungen: I say! And leave those potato peelings for the swine in the forest instead!
Snövit: Pfffhahahaha!
Askungen: What?
Snövit: Just…and old joke I came to think of. About wolves, pigs and redness.
Rödluvan: A very old and very boring and bad joke long forgotten. Now continue your story.
Askungen: A request? We are making progress here! Grassroot democracy shall triumph! Wait a second, if the joke is long forgotten, how can you remember what it was about and how bad it was?
Rödluvan: That has to be deliberated at another meeting. After a proper summoning to that session so that all attendants are prepared and have had due time to ready themselves. We must respect the democratic procedure. This session is about the next episode of your story – “cough” Andy “cough” – which you were about to tell.
Askungen: Right. Such a promising development deserves a thrilling escapade as reward. As I struggled across the windswept, cold and wet highlands of Tamoe I cursed the inconvenience of the Amazonian medium armour fashions. While enhancing mobility, uncovered legs are NOT ideal for this climate. To think that such ideas as walking barelegged in these kinds of regions would ever be a lasting idea is simply preposterous!
Maltatai: Barelegged “highland style” fashion wouldn’t be your thing then. Not even if it came with a plaid and bonnet?
Askungen: Of course not! Believe it or not, there were even large heaps of THISTLES growing on the road to the monastery!
Maltatai: Who would want to walk barelegged in such weather in a country characterised by thistles…
Askungen: Only a total barbarian, that’s for sure! Anyway, I came at last to the rogue monastery, where the door was unlocked and more or less unguarded. But it was all an elaborate trap.
Snövit: You mean the smith lurking in the barracks? He wasn’t so hard, was he really?
Askungen: Oh, no. Far more sinister than that. Beyond the barracks where Charsi had dropped her hammer (why didn’t she just smash the skulls of any demon entering her smithy, with her titanic arms?) there lay a freakish jail. I don’t know who it was that filled it with the hideous devices of torture but I am positive that person is rightfully dead and gone forever. Inside the jail there were the most ugly of monsters imaginable! Pitspawn Fouldog, the pinnacle of abominations!
Rödluvan: Yes, he is quite the fright the first time.
Askungen: Oh, he went down to just a cast or two and a casual stroll away from there while the poison worked. No, the real menace was yet to come. The jail led to the inner cloister where a large cathedral stood. It was also unlocked, of course, ready to lure poor unsuspecting adventurers into its foul dangers. Inside, the cathedral was decorated with scenes of ancient wars with a small sign at the bottom saying “Baueaux Tapestries Inc. Order today and receive a free red banner with three yellow lions for each ten metre.” The cathedral was run by an old skeletal priest or nun or whatever attacking with spells of poison and cold! How vile! To have a once proud grassroot fellow corrupted in that manner!
Snövit: Bone Ash? That was your terrible trap?
Askungen: Of course not. The trap was down in the catacombs.
Rödluvan: So, Andy then? But I really got the impression you ran into something before meeting her.
Askungen: That I did! In the second level of the catacombs! Hideous!
Snövit: There is nothing noteworthy there. Just the dark ones, tainted, rat men and the…arachs?
Askungen: NOTHING NOTEWORTHY!? YOU WOULD CALL GIANT SPIDERS NOTHING NOTEWORTHY!? Icky, sticky, slimy webs…eight evil legs and too many eyes “shudder”… Nothing noteworthy? You are all as mad as Aliza.
Rödluvan: You…are scared of spiders?
Askungen: Who would not be?! Creeping into your bathroom, spinning giant webs to cover the whole world and trap us all…
Snövit: Wait, you, a thoroughly environmental activistic grassroot…afraid of…pffheheh…oh, dear. Poor Askungen.
Maltatai: I take it Aliza did her part in holding the line against the many-legged assailants, then? Except that there wasn’t any line to hold after you had ran away screaming.
Askungen: I told her to come with me but oh, no, the mad rogue just has to stand and shoot a burning arrow into each and every eye and chill it with her cold arrows. What if the monstrous thing had eaten her? Or trapped her in a web to rot for eternity? We just narrowly escaped down to show Andy our gratitude for summoning such outfreaking guardians.
Maltatai: Is “outfreaking” really a word?
Askungen: Of course it is, I just said it! Obviously it must therefore be a word. Really, you have to pay more attention sometimes.
Maltatai: And that line I have never heard before. Oh, no.
Askungen: Anyways, in the deepest but mercifully spiderless level I and Aliza stood against Andariel. Poison clouds darkened the air and ill-intended hands pulled at the other ones hair. Alright, they didn’t, but it rhymed nicely in any case. I half expected to see some other heroes down there because earlier I had heard a faint disgusted shout about something turning someone green. It sounded a bit as if there would be another Amazon. But I could not find any trace. I did however find a good small charm to shield me from collective flames and some useful gold piles to take from ghoul and banished champions. Truly a horrible fate, even among the undead, to be banished to these awful spider-infestated catacombs.
Maltatai: Congratulations on managing to keep Aliza alive. A noble deed.
Askungen: The rogues were quite happy to have their monastery back, ruined or not, and Aliza promised to accompany me to Aranoch at least, watching the road for spiders. It sounded dangerous. Aranoch is almost like “Arachnoch”. “shudder”
_________________________________________________________________
Maltatai: It was maybe inapt to characterise Askungens achievement as a “deed”, given the hardcore character context. The protagonist and predecessor tale protagonists are away to stuff their stomachs, or at least Askungens, with more of the island cuisine and drinks of questionable health benefit. While waiting for nothing in particular I am pleased to be able to share another chapter from the totally random journal in my possession.
Törnrosa: At last things are going my way. After the disappointment with the hidden underground office I tried my luck and fated success in the famous rogue monastery. It would seem like an obvious choice as a starting point for a suitably revering religious sect. Under suitable supervision and guidance of course… The power of faith can be most convenient at times when you manage to emphasise the importance of a talented intercessor with whatever higher power the obedient masses seek to interact with. This particular monastery was not such a properly focused institution.
The whole place had been turned into some sort of barracks! For the brunette anonymous archery league (shortened b.a.a.l…no) also known as the rogues. They still had some books that not even the demonic invaders had managed to tear apart yet, but NONE of them were of any use for us poor innocent grey eminences and top rulers of the administrated illuminations in the world.
In the barracks and the mysteriously roomy jail I faced horrors of the most fearsome kind. Lightning enchanted blue liberalism and individualistic independence! If the world is infected with such thoughts it will be the end of civilisation as we know it!
In the jail I saw a shrine like none I had ever beheld before. Ancient stones formed an altar upon which were seated a red stone. Glowing, pulsating, as if it contained something living inside. As if, I don’t know, someone’s soul or spirit would be possible to capture or imprison within a sacred stone. And certainly not mine! Ludicrous! Floria warned med that I should probably leave it be. I was about to agree but then this otherworldly vision and calling came to me. There was a little warning sign at the side of the altar. It mocked me! A parody of perhaps in itself prudent caution, it dared me to take the stone just by existing. It was intolerable! There was only one thing to do. Step up to the stone and face it like a woman. I rammed my head at it just like when I had showed Blood Raven who’s the boss. As I hit the obnoxious pebble it seemed to just…disappear. Hmm…strange. I felt a sharp pain in my forehead but then I saw everything clearer than before and felt much more skilled. Truly a strange shrine.
Floria naturally had to be the wise guy smartass again and remark how fitting it was that such a “headstrong” and “thick-headed” person as myself choose to use the shrine in that particular way. Aaaagh! The rogues of today…
Despite that, the girl almost started to behave as we ventured further through the monastery and it’s central cathedral. Perhaps the grisly sights of her ex-sisters sobered her. The many skeletons made my mana drain away like the audience when the rock concert has been replaced with recitation sessions concerning the humanist science of the cultural significance of Swedish Meatballs (there actually exist such a so-called “scientific” thesis, sponsored by the state through aid to the university of Stockholm…utterly embarrassing).
Where was I…yes, the cathedral and catacombs! Down there I and Floria ran into this indescribably ugly afflicted monstrosity. Quite nasty with the lightning inclination and resistance but that was not the point. It had such…such…a LAUGHABLE name! PUKE WOLF! Ahahahaaahahaha!
Maltatai: Hmm, it sounded like lightning struck nearby.
“BOOM!”
So, I guess Telash must have heard that last part…hrm, best to move to the ending of the Act before it turns into the ending act of me.
Törnrosa: In the lowest and mouldiest of the catacombs were the instigator herself. Slimy and oozing, the environmental rabble-rouser Andariel met us with clouds of poison. I stood my ground as the galleon figure…I mean leading figure, the captain, the leader towards which the world looks in times of danger. And no, I did not head-butt her to back to hell. Power Strike took care of the Lesser Evil. There is sometimes a saying that one has to choose the lesser evil and such. Total nonsense! Strike them ALL down and take everything for yourself, that is my solution any day! And night.
Look to me for guidance…for the night is dark and full of terrors.
Floria was quite impressed with my display. She really wanted to come with me to the desert and beyond. She had apparently been regretting not coming along with some obviously silly red flaming Amazon earlier. That experience had led Floria to switch to her current fiery arrows. Hmm, I suppose it is more illuminating than cold at least. To pass the time and ensnare…I mean strengthen the collegial bond to my obedient minion I composed a song along the way east. It was based on a melody composed by scorpions of some strange breed, which was very fitting since scorpions, of more conventional and less musical kinds, abound in Aranoch.
Maltatai: This seems like some sort of duet. Perhaps Törnrosa is supposed to be singing, I mean supposed to have sang, the first half to the dotted line with Floria continuing after the instrumental intermission and both singing the last lines.
Törnrosa:
Let’s tour the world together
I know you want it too
The magic of the moment
Is what I’ve got for you
The heartbeat of this light
Is made to keep control
And there is something in your Eyes
That’s longing for some more
Let us find together
The light we’re looking for
The rhytm of light
Keeps me trekking down the road
The rhytm of light
Take on evil, smash their stone
The rhytm of light
Is the game I’m looking for
The rhytm of light
Is the heartbeat of my soul
Let’s beat the game together
One Act will never do
An exploding shot of fire
The arrows fly from you!
Why don’t you close your eyes
And let your feelings grow
I’ll make you feel a taste of life
Devoted pure and true
Let us find together
The light we’re longing for
The rhytm of white
Tall, celestial wings that flow
The rhytm of white
Divine connections I will show
The rhytm of white
Lightning skills through sand and snow
The rhytm of white
Power-hungry is my soul
…
Törnrosa is right
Golden armour, what a glow!
Törnrosa is riiight
From me admiring faith will flow
Törnrosa is…riiight
Bow and javelin will own
Törnrosa is…riiight
Every evil foe will moan
With my inner sight
I will guide and scout and see
With my inner sight
Illumination’s soon to be
With my inner sight
Administration is for me
With my inner sight
Power Strike will hit, you’ll see!
Let us face together
The heat we’re heading for
Maltatai:
They scream and they shout
‘Bout the colours of their kind
They stab and they bite
At every foe of every kind
And Maltatai’s right
When he calls them funny names
Writing over and out
Ends the episode today
Expect the next instalment
Next week but not before
Askungen: What are you doing?
Maltatai: Evil spreaders of worldwide sickness have invaded this realm. But now the assault has been repelled, thanks to some hired help. Unfortunately, due to the capricious and fickle nature of mercenaries, they can only be counted upon for a 30-day trial period.
Askungen: Huh!? They DARE give poison damage a bad name? Is that it?
Maltatai: No, I assure you that poisons and other vile chemicals still enjoy the same noble reputation as always. The term “virus” in this case can in this case be used as a useful allegory to how the enemy works. They are a blight both upon the world of Sanctuary and mine as well. A festering blister on the body of our society.
Askungen: What is their goal? Hellish invasions of the world?
Maltatai: Extortion. Equally pathetic in their attempts as well as their value as human beings. Still very annoying and an utter waste of ones time.
Askungen: I wish they could be made to be present here. I always need to practise the noble art of poisoning. PAINFULLY!
Maltatai: Much obliged. Where is the rest of the audience?
Askungen: You aren’t really part of the audience, I dare say you have proven some worth. Perhaps you could continue to fill a role as supplementary storyteller and permanent secretary. Snövit and Rödluvan are being delayed by a silly dispute about who it was that started the mashed potato war here recently. It was a quick escalation from the border dispute of the falling fries. Both sides acted incredibly immaturely.
Maltatai: And who was it that really begun the conflict?
Askungen: “Whistling”
Maltatai: It could of course not have been a third party, discreetly tossing a potato or two from the middle ground, leading both sides to believe they were under attack by the other. Obviously not.
Askungen: “Whistling”
Snövit: YES IT COULD!
Rödluvan: GET HER!
“Rödluvan and Snövit, each slightly covered in mashed potato, charges in and hurls fistfuls of potato peelings at Askungen”
______________________________________________________
Maltatai: Order! Settle down!
Askungen: I say! And leave those potato peelings for the swine in the forest instead!
Snövit: Pfffhahahaha!
Askungen: What?
Snövit: Just…and old joke I came to think of. About wolves, pigs and redness.
Rödluvan: A very old and very boring and bad joke long forgotten. Now continue your story.
Askungen: A request? We are making progress here! Grassroot democracy shall triumph! Wait a second, if the joke is long forgotten, how can you remember what it was about and how bad it was?
Rödluvan: That has to be deliberated at another meeting. After a proper summoning to that session so that all attendants are prepared and have had due time to ready themselves. We must respect the democratic procedure. This session is about the next episode of your story – “cough” Andy “cough” – which you were about to tell.
Askungen: Right. Such a promising development deserves a thrilling escapade as reward. As I struggled across the windswept, cold and wet highlands of Tamoe I cursed the inconvenience of the Amazonian medium armour fashions. While enhancing mobility, uncovered legs are NOT ideal for this climate. To think that such ideas as walking barelegged in these kinds of regions would ever be a lasting idea is simply preposterous!
Maltatai: Barelegged “highland style” fashion wouldn’t be your thing then. Not even if it came with a plaid and bonnet?
Askungen: Of course not! Believe it or not, there were even large heaps of THISTLES growing on the road to the monastery!
Maltatai: Who would want to walk barelegged in such weather in a country characterised by thistles…
Askungen: Only a total barbarian, that’s for sure! Anyway, I came at last to the rogue monastery, where the door was unlocked and more or less unguarded. But it was all an elaborate trap.
Snövit: You mean the smith lurking in the barracks? He wasn’t so hard, was he really?
Askungen: Oh, no. Far more sinister than that. Beyond the barracks where Charsi had dropped her hammer (why didn’t she just smash the skulls of any demon entering her smithy, with her titanic arms?) there lay a freakish jail. I don’t know who it was that filled it with the hideous devices of torture but I am positive that person is rightfully dead and gone forever. Inside the jail there were the most ugly of monsters imaginable! Pitspawn Fouldog, the pinnacle of abominations!
Rödluvan: Yes, he is quite the fright the first time.
Askungen: Oh, he went down to just a cast or two and a casual stroll away from there while the poison worked. No, the real menace was yet to come. The jail led to the inner cloister where a large cathedral stood. It was also unlocked, of course, ready to lure poor unsuspecting adventurers into its foul dangers. Inside, the cathedral was decorated with scenes of ancient wars with a small sign at the bottom saying “Baueaux Tapestries Inc. Order today and receive a free red banner with three yellow lions for each ten metre.” The cathedral was run by an old skeletal priest or nun or whatever attacking with spells of poison and cold! How vile! To have a once proud grassroot fellow corrupted in that manner!
Snövit: Bone Ash? That was your terrible trap?
Askungen: Of course not. The trap was down in the catacombs.
Rödluvan: So, Andy then? But I really got the impression you ran into something before meeting her.
Askungen: That I did! In the second level of the catacombs! Hideous!
Snövit: There is nothing noteworthy there. Just the dark ones, tainted, rat men and the…arachs?
Askungen: NOTHING NOTEWORTHY!? YOU WOULD CALL GIANT SPIDERS NOTHING NOTEWORTHY!? Icky, sticky, slimy webs…eight evil legs and too many eyes “shudder”… Nothing noteworthy? You are all as mad as Aliza.
Rödluvan: You…are scared of spiders?
Askungen: Who would not be?! Creeping into your bathroom, spinning giant webs to cover the whole world and trap us all…
Snövit: Wait, you, a thoroughly environmental activistic grassroot…afraid of…pffheheh…oh, dear. Poor Askungen.
Maltatai: I take it Aliza did her part in holding the line against the many-legged assailants, then? Except that there wasn’t any line to hold after you had ran away screaming.
Askungen: I told her to come with me but oh, no, the mad rogue just has to stand and shoot a burning arrow into each and every eye and chill it with her cold arrows. What if the monstrous thing had eaten her? Or trapped her in a web to rot for eternity? We just narrowly escaped down to show Andy our gratitude for summoning such outfreaking guardians.
Maltatai: Is “outfreaking” really a word?
Askungen: Of course it is, I just said it! Obviously it must therefore be a word. Really, you have to pay more attention sometimes.
Maltatai: And that line I have never heard before. Oh, no.
Askungen: Anyways, in the deepest but mercifully spiderless level I and Aliza stood against Andariel. Poison clouds darkened the air and ill-intended hands pulled at the other ones hair. Alright, they didn’t, but it rhymed nicely in any case. I half expected to see some other heroes down there because earlier I had heard a faint disgusted shout about something turning someone green. It sounded a bit as if there would be another Amazon. But I could not find any trace. I did however find a good small charm to shield me from collective flames and some useful gold piles to take from ghoul and banished champions. Truly a horrible fate, even among the undead, to be banished to these awful spider-infestated catacombs.
Maltatai: Congratulations on managing to keep Aliza alive. A noble deed.
Askungen: The rogues were quite happy to have their monastery back, ruined or not, and Aliza promised to accompany me to Aranoch at least, watching the road for spiders. It sounded dangerous. Aranoch is almost like “Arachnoch”. “shudder”
_________________________________________________________________
Maltatai: It was maybe inapt to characterise Askungens achievement as a “deed”, given the hardcore character context. The protagonist and predecessor tale protagonists are away to stuff their stomachs, or at least Askungens, with more of the island cuisine and drinks of questionable health benefit. While waiting for nothing in particular I am pleased to be able to share another chapter from the totally random journal in my possession.
Törnrosa: At last things are going my way. After the disappointment with the hidden underground office I tried my luck and fated success in the famous rogue monastery. It would seem like an obvious choice as a starting point for a suitably revering religious sect. Under suitable supervision and guidance of course… The power of faith can be most convenient at times when you manage to emphasise the importance of a talented intercessor with whatever higher power the obedient masses seek to interact with. This particular monastery was not such a properly focused institution.
The whole place had been turned into some sort of barracks! For the brunette anonymous archery league (shortened b.a.a.l…no) also known as the rogues. They still had some books that not even the demonic invaders had managed to tear apart yet, but NONE of them were of any use for us poor innocent grey eminences and top rulers of the administrated illuminations in the world.
In the barracks and the mysteriously roomy jail I faced horrors of the most fearsome kind. Lightning enchanted blue liberalism and individualistic independence! If the world is infected with such thoughts it will be the end of civilisation as we know it!
In the jail I saw a shrine like none I had ever beheld before. Ancient stones formed an altar upon which were seated a red stone. Glowing, pulsating, as if it contained something living inside. As if, I don’t know, someone’s soul or spirit would be possible to capture or imprison within a sacred stone. And certainly not mine! Ludicrous! Floria warned med that I should probably leave it be. I was about to agree but then this otherworldly vision and calling came to me. There was a little warning sign at the side of the altar. It mocked me! A parody of perhaps in itself prudent caution, it dared me to take the stone just by existing. It was intolerable! There was only one thing to do. Step up to the stone and face it like a woman. I rammed my head at it just like when I had showed Blood Raven who’s the boss. As I hit the obnoxious pebble it seemed to just…disappear. Hmm…strange. I felt a sharp pain in my forehead but then I saw everything clearer than before and felt much more skilled. Truly a strange shrine.
Floria naturally had to be the wise guy smartass again and remark how fitting it was that such a “headstrong” and “thick-headed” person as myself choose to use the shrine in that particular way. Aaaagh! The rogues of today…
Despite that, the girl almost started to behave as we ventured further through the monastery and it’s central cathedral. Perhaps the grisly sights of her ex-sisters sobered her. The many skeletons made my mana drain away like the audience when the rock concert has been replaced with recitation sessions concerning the humanist science of the cultural significance of Swedish Meatballs (there actually exist such a so-called “scientific” thesis, sponsored by the state through aid to the university of Stockholm…utterly embarrassing).
Where was I…yes, the cathedral and catacombs! Down there I and Floria ran into this indescribably ugly afflicted monstrosity. Quite nasty with the lightning inclination and resistance but that was not the point. It had such…such…a LAUGHABLE name! PUKE WOLF! Ahahahaaahahaha!
Maltatai: Hmm, it sounded like lightning struck nearby.
“BOOM!”
So, I guess Telash must have heard that last part…hrm, best to move to the ending of the Act before it turns into the ending act of me.
Törnrosa: In the lowest and mouldiest of the catacombs were the instigator herself. Slimy and oozing, the environmental rabble-rouser Andariel met us with clouds of poison. I stood my ground as the galleon figure…I mean leading figure, the captain, the leader towards which the world looks in times of danger. And no, I did not head-butt her to back to hell. Power Strike took care of the Lesser Evil. There is sometimes a saying that one has to choose the lesser evil and such. Total nonsense! Strike them ALL down and take everything for yourself, that is my solution any day! And night.
Look to me for guidance…for the night is dark and full of terrors.
Floria was quite impressed with my display. She really wanted to come with me to the desert and beyond. She had apparently been regretting not coming along with some obviously silly red flaming Amazon earlier. That experience had led Floria to switch to her current fiery arrows. Hmm, I suppose it is more illuminating than cold at least. To pass the time and ensnare…I mean strengthen the collegial bond to my obedient minion I composed a song along the way east. It was based on a melody composed by scorpions of some strange breed, which was very fitting since scorpions, of more conventional and less musical kinds, abound in Aranoch.
Maltatai: This seems like some sort of duet. Perhaps Törnrosa is supposed to be singing, I mean supposed to have sang, the first half to the dotted line with Floria continuing after the instrumental intermission and both singing the last lines.
Törnrosa:
Let’s tour the world together
I know you want it too
The magic of the moment
Is what I’ve got for you
The heartbeat of this light
Is made to keep control
And there is something in your Eyes
That’s longing for some more
Let us find together
The light we’re looking for
The rhytm of light
Keeps me trekking down the road
The rhytm of light
Take on evil, smash their stone
The rhytm of light
Is the game I’m looking for
The rhytm of light
Is the heartbeat of my soul
Let’s beat the game together
One Act will never do
An exploding shot of fire
The arrows fly from you!
Why don’t you close your eyes
And let your feelings grow
I’ll make you feel a taste of life
Devoted pure and true
Let us find together
The light we’re longing for
The rhytm of white
Tall, celestial wings that flow
The rhytm of white
Divine connections I will show
The rhytm of white
Lightning skills through sand and snow
The rhytm of white
Power-hungry is my soul
…
Törnrosa is right
Golden armour, what a glow!
Törnrosa is riiight
From me admiring faith will flow
Törnrosa is…riiight
Bow and javelin will own
Törnrosa is…riiight
Every evil foe will moan
With my inner sight
I will guide and scout and see
With my inner sight
Illumination’s soon to be
With my inner sight
Administration is for me
With my inner sight
Power Strike will hit, you’ll see!
Let us face together
The heat we’re heading for
Maltatai:
They scream and they shout
‘Bout the colours of their kind
They stab and they bite
At every foe of every kind
And Maltatai’s right
When he calls them funny names
Writing over and out
Ends the episode today
Expect the next instalment
Next week but not before
I know I haven't updated in a while. Blame Supreme Commander Forged Alliance and my work.
Your comments really brightens the day...or most times the evening. I'm really touched that people take the time to show their appreciation of things I write. Goldtru, nice new avatar. Your drawing?
Now for the greatest of all fans and the most devilish hydra sorceress there is
Your comments really brightens the day...or most times the evening. I'm really touched that people take the time to show their appreciation of things I write. Goldtru, nice new avatar. Your drawing?
Now for the greatest of all fans and the most devilish hydra sorceress there is
Episode 4. Dessert
Maltatai: No, no, that one goes there, that one goes there. Try now… Excellent!
Askungen: Are you finally done?
Maltatai: Patience is a virtue, they say… Yes, it’s ready.
Snövit: What is that?
Maltatai: It’s called a projector (not very original) and its function is to display pictures to the audience. It’s powered by electricity, meaning of course Telash.
Telash: I’m in charge of the charging up of this rig, oh yeah! Charging valiantly against all power shortage issues of our time, free of charge!
Rödluvan: Just like when I awarded him the Crescent Moon blade. Maltatai, why do we need a projector of images here and now?
Maltatai: It’s Askungens idea.
Snövit and Rödluvan: “glance at Askungen”
Askungen: This is perfectly logical. Since we all have now finished our desert, you having done that long before thanks to your unjust head start, it is only fitting that I tell you about my time in the dessert. No, wait! I meant the other way around…look; just look at the white cloth wall over there.
Maltatai: For those of you who wonder what this is about and are less than completely satisfied with the explanations so far I might add that Askungen decided that this chapter of her story should be told mainly with pictures. The reason for this is that it is customary to show pictures to your friends, and stepsisterly arch-enemies, after returning from a vacation in a warm foreign country and Act II in Aranoch, being a gigantic beach next to the sea and with a capitol filled with dubious peddlers selling substandard wares to unknowing tourists, qualifies as such a vacation.
Askungen: Precisely! And now I declare this informative meeting in session. The topic is my first trip to the hot dessert of Aranoch!
Maltatai: Desert.
Askugen: How could you think of such a thing!? Should I desert and abandon my dutiful charges and grassroot movement?! Never!
Maltatai: “Sigh” You said dessert instead of desert, as in the arid environment, again.
Askungen: Oh, sorry… As I was about to say, the topic is my first trip to the hot…desert…of Aranoch.
Rödluvan: “whispering” Good girl…
Askungen: Immediately after arriving we were met by some sort of tour guide I think. He must have been waiting for some other travelling party because we hadn’t requested any tours or something like that.
Snövit: That would be Jerhyn, the sultan and the lord of Lut Gholein. And a slimy git.
Askungen: So I discovered. I immediately went around the town to see what it had to offer. I got myself a nice pair of shoes that were a bit too warm though…it didn’t seem too important to resist cold out here, even though the night temperature quickly drops with no water of vegetation to balance it. Aliza was not as thrilled though. She had burned her shoulders badly in the sun and on the whole thought it was much too warm. Growing up on a tropical island does have its benefits when facing these latitudes. After a proper meeting I allowed Aliza honourable discharge with full retirement benefits and let her camp in the shade until she could follow Warriv back to the homely, cold, windy, rainy cliffs of Tamoe.
Maltatai: That was commendable. Did you find any suitable replacement?
Askugnen: Yes, a defiant local mercenary named Kasim. He seemed pretty knowledgeable of the terrain and local wildlife, but he was grossly misinformed about the dangers that spiders pose to all of us. He seemed to think spiders were not much of an issue as long as they didn’t fall into your bed or soup!
Maltatai: I can’t believe how anyone could be that negligent of the imminent dangers to this and all other worlds…
Askungen: Not only that, but once we entered the towns sewers in search of the vile pollutant
Radament, Kasim started to display a horribly blue aura! It was quite the shock. Why couldn’t he have chosen a, say, green one? I found a nice charm hidden in a pile of trash, which was handly when we later faced Rödluvans secret supporters that shot flaming arrows. The charm, not the pile of trash. If anyone wondered which one it was that became handy.
Rödluvan: For the hopefully but probably not last time! There is no Sanctuary-wide red-blue conspiracy and certainly not involving the burning dead!
Askungen: Then how else would you explain the fact that the red skeletons patrolling and guarding shrines of combat prowess (which for some presumably justified reason have been built in the sewers) were quickly followed by BLUE high-ranking mummies?
Rödluvan: Perhaps by informing you of the fact that other creatures than collectively and capitalistically minded ones come in such colours. Just like the not so environmentally friendly Misshappen, in dark green!
Askungen: Hrm, objection noted. I’ll add that to the protocol. Deep down in the third level was the pesticide himself; Radament, with the breath of a dozen forbidden chemicals! But I was smarter than he imagined.
I opened a town portal and then ran to combat shrine I had purposely left unused! With the feeling of invincibility coursing through me I and Kasim returned through the portal, catching Radament where we had left in a small sewer cupboard! His immortal minions could not get to us in force because the narrow confines of the cupboard blocked everyone but one or two! An excellent defensible position for Kasim while I dealt with Radament!
Maltatai: So you won. No need to shout about it like that.
Askungen: I’ll have you know that this is normal, therefore shouting about it is acceptable, as normal things always are. Hahaa!
Further into the sun blistered landscape there were some shady tombs home to very intriguing shrines…at least one of them. It glowed so brightly…
Rödluvan: I know! They are just irresistible, aren’t they?
Askungen: Kasim was less enthusiastic.
In one of the tombs there was a cubistic piece of Horadric art. It was a glorified storage box in brown and gold. It lay in a chest between four stone pillars with braziers on top of them. Cain said that the cube was supposed to be hidden from rogue sorcerers and such but it didn’t seem very well hidden to me. Maybe it is some sort of inverted logic, like “put it in a chest in plain sight and nobody will notice it, busy as they are examining the walls for the secret storage room where the real cube is hidden since the one in the open is obviously as fake”.
Maltatai: Could we hear something about personal development and such, perhaps?
Askungen: What, like “all environmental activists are dreamy seekers of insubstantial personality improvements that anyone outside don’t have any chance to understand” or something?! That is a filthy stereotype!
Maltatai: Actually I had the skill progression and tactics in mind. But you may feel free to explore your dreamy seeking as well if you really want to.
Askungen: In your dreams. With the steady improvement of poison javelin, now augmented by the plague javelin, living enemies fell in droves. Aiming proved hard without piercing projectiles but the open spaces serves this skill well. Plague javelin is mostly useful in doorways and when surround by pollutants. It’s useful to cast a decoy to make them gather at a point but frankly I prefer to lure groups into the poison javelin trail instead.
One place where plague javelin works well is the theme park…temple of pointy teeth. I promise, those claw vipers are dinosaurs that someone forgot to add legs to!
Much less amusing was the palace cellars with the undead and poison using mages. Such slander and foul mockery of my trademark attacks! There was some portal too at the lowest level and it led to a space station or something with hideous lightning pillars as well as inconsequential architecture. And good places for ranged attacks.
As said.
Maltatai: How nice for you. Was there any substandard souvenirs that caught your eye in Lut Gholein?
Askungen: Of course, but most were uninteresting. A charm was pretty funny when compared to my javelins… Elzix once gave me a thoroughly disgusting stack of throwing spears that I immediately wanted to throw away at enemies just to get rid of them but eventually I couldn’t bring myself to touch them.
There was also a silly angel that a very maggoty vendor tried to sell at a discount I think. But the angel just floated upward like a balloon so it must have been made of very bad ingredients or just be very self-inflated, I thought at the time.
Snövit: We know…
Rödluvan: Far too well…
Maltatai: That will be all for this evenings projected images. Now I suppose everyone will go back to bantering, making silly pranks and planning tomorrow’s festivities. Unless one might have a spare journal of another character lying around waiting to be read…
_______________________________________________________
Askungen: Are you finally done?
Maltatai: Patience is a virtue, they say… Yes, it’s ready.
Snövit: What is that?
Maltatai: It’s called a projector (not very original) and its function is to display pictures to the audience. It’s powered by electricity, meaning of course Telash.
Telash: I’m in charge of the charging up of this rig, oh yeah! Charging valiantly against all power shortage issues of our time, free of charge!
Rödluvan: Just like when I awarded him the Crescent Moon blade. Maltatai, why do we need a projector of images here and now?
Maltatai: It’s Askungens idea.
Snövit and Rödluvan: “glance at Askungen”
Askungen: This is perfectly logical. Since we all have now finished our desert, you having done that long before thanks to your unjust head start, it is only fitting that I tell you about my time in the dessert. No, wait! I meant the other way around…look; just look at the white cloth wall over there.
Maltatai: For those of you who wonder what this is about and are less than completely satisfied with the explanations so far I might add that Askungen decided that this chapter of her story should be told mainly with pictures. The reason for this is that it is customary to show pictures to your friends, and stepsisterly arch-enemies, after returning from a vacation in a warm foreign country and Act II in Aranoch, being a gigantic beach next to the sea and with a capitol filled with dubious peddlers selling substandard wares to unknowing tourists, qualifies as such a vacation.
Askungen: Precisely! And now I declare this informative meeting in session. The topic is my first trip to the hot dessert of Aranoch!
Maltatai: Desert.
Askugen: How could you think of such a thing!? Should I desert and abandon my dutiful charges and grassroot movement?! Never!
Maltatai: “Sigh” You said dessert instead of desert, as in the arid environment, again.
Askungen: Oh, sorry… As I was about to say, the topic is my first trip to the hot…desert…of Aranoch.
Rödluvan: “whispering” Good girl…
Askungen: Immediately after arriving we were met by some sort of tour guide I think. He must have been waiting for some other travelling party because we hadn’t requested any tours or something like that.
Snövit: That would be Jerhyn, the sultan and the lord of Lut Gholein. And a slimy git.
Askungen: So I discovered. I immediately went around the town to see what it had to offer. I got myself a nice pair of shoes that were a bit too warm though…it didn’t seem too important to resist cold out here, even though the night temperature quickly drops with no water of vegetation to balance it. Aliza was not as thrilled though. She had burned her shoulders badly in the sun and on the whole thought it was much too warm. Growing up on a tropical island does have its benefits when facing these latitudes. After a proper meeting I allowed Aliza honourable discharge with full retirement benefits and let her camp in the shade until she could follow Warriv back to the homely, cold, windy, rainy cliffs of Tamoe.
Maltatai: That was commendable. Did you find any suitable replacement?
Askugnen: Yes, a defiant local mercenary named Kasim. He seemed pretty knowledgeable of the terrain and local wildlife, but he was grossly misinformed about the dangers that spiders pose to all of us. He seemed to think spiders were not much of an issue as long as they didn’t fall into your bed or soup!
Maltatai: I can’t believe how anyone could be that negligent of the imminent dangers to this and all other worlds…
Askungen: Not only that, but once we entered the towns sewers in search of the vile pollutant
Radament, Kasim started to display a horribly blue aura! It was quite the shock. Why couldn’t he have chosen a, say, green one? I found a nice charm hidden in a pile of trash, which was handly when we later faced Rödluvans secret supporters that shot flaming arrows. The charm, not the pile of trash. If anyone wondered which one it was that became handy.
Rödluvan: For the hopefully but probably not last time! There is no Sanctuary-wide red-blue conspiracy and certainly not involving the burning dead!
Askungen: Then how else would you explain the fact that the red skeletons patrolling and guarding shrines of combat prowess (which for some presumably justified reason have been built in the sewers) were quickly followed by BLUE high-ranking mummies?
Rödluvan: Perhaps by informing you of the fact that other creatures than collectively and capitalistically minded ones come in such colours. Just like the not so environmentally friendly Misshappen, in dark green!
Askungen: Hrm, objection noted. I’ll add that to the protocol. Deep down in the third level was the pesticide himself; Radament, with the breath of a dozen forbidden chemicals! But I was smarter than he imagined.
I opened a town portal and then ran to combat shrine I had purposely left unused! With the feeling of invincibility coursing through me I and Kasim returned through the portal, catching Radament where we had left in a small sewer cupboard! His immortal minions could not get to us in force because the narrow confines of the cupboard blocked everyone but one or two! An excellent defensible position for Kasim while I dealt with Radament!
Maltatai: So you won. No need to shout about it like that.
Askungen: I’ll have you know that this is normal, therefore shouting about it is acceptable, as normal things always are. Hahaa!
Further into the sun blistered landscape there were some shady tombs home to very intriguing shrines…at least one of them. It glowed so brightly…
Rödluvan: I know! They are just irresistible, aren’t they?
Askungen: Kasim was less enthusiastic.
In one of the tombs there was a cubistic piece of Horadric art. It was a glorified storage box in brown and gold. It lay in a chest between four stone pillars with braziers on top of them. Cain said that the cube was supposed to be hidden from rogue sorcerers and such but it didn’t seem very well hidden to me. Maybe it is some sort of inverted logic, like “put it in a chest in plain sight and nobody will notice it, busy as they are examining the walls for the secret storage room where the real cube is hidden since the one in the open is obviously as fake”.
Maltatai: Could we hear something about personal development and such, perhaps?
Askungen: What, like “all environmental activists are dreamy seekers of insubstantial personality improvements that anyone outside don’t have any chance to understand” or something?! That is a filthy stereotype!
Maltatai: Actually I had the skill progression and tactics in mind. But you may feel free to explore your dreamy seeking as well if you really want to.
Askungen: In your dreams. With the steady improvement of poison javelin, now augmented by the plague javelin, living enemies fell in droves. Aiming proved hard without piercing projectiles but the open spaces serves this skill well. Plague javelin is mostly useful in doorways and when surround by pollutants. It’s useful to cast a decoy to make them gather at a point but frankly I prefer to lure groups into the poison javelin trail instead.
One place where plague javelin works well is the theme park…temple of pointy teeth. I promise, those claw vipers are dinosaurs that someone forgot to add legs to!
Much less amusing was the palace cellars with the undead and poison using mages. Such slander and foul mockery of my trademark attacks! There was some portal too at the lowest level and it led to a space station or something with hideous lightning pillars as well as inconsequential architecture. And good places for ranged attacks.
As said.
Maltatai: How nice for you. Was there any substandard souvenirs that caught your eye in Lut Gholein?
Askungen: Of course, but most were uninteresting. A charm was pretty funny when compared to my javelins… Elzix once gave me a thoroughly disgusting stack of throwing spears that I immediately wanted to throw away at enemies just to get rid of them but eventually I couldn’t bring myself to touch them.
There was also a silly angel that a very maggoty vendor tried to sell at a discount I think. But the angel just floated upward like a balloon so it must have been made of very bad ingredients or just be very self-inflated, I thought at the time.
Snövit: We know…
Rödluvan: Far too well…
Maltatai: That will be all for this evenings projected images. Now I suppose everyone will go back to bantering, making silly pranks and planning tomorrow’s festivities. Unless one might have a spare journal of another character lying around waiting to be read…
_______________________________________________________
Episode 4. Dessert (second half)
Törnrosa: Arrived at last to the sunny town. Finally, a place worthy of being the headquarters of my soon all-encompassing dominion! After all, arid regions are surprisingly good at spawning both royal and religious powers, despite the infertility of such places. Here I can settle down. I have just the right building in mind for me.
Obviously precursor dynasties have ruled this and probably all other regions from Lut Gholein before, manifested by the many extravagant tombs littering the area. Despite their majestic might, it seems that stray catwomen have occupied some, to the horror of the former as well as present inhabitants.
Far less glamorous are some slimy sewers and a trail of underground tunnels dug out by overgrown…whatever environmental abomination they are. The foul maggoty leggy things were accompanied by scarabs that emitted lightning and in one case a ring of cold! It almost got me! The outrage! I impaled some of them on my new pike. Perhaps leaving them hanging on stakes along the roads will encourage the rest to bow down to their betters?
Both the shamefully worldly tavern owner and the much more spiritual and hopefully receptacle smith had some really sharp looking items for sale. Massive gold! Should leave no spectator in doubt about who’s in charge here.
Even Floria got some new items. Sigh! Alas, the minions of today! Ever demanding the attention of their masters and the lavish spending of rightfully looted gold. It worked surprisingly well, giving her a new magical present now and then. I still think staff management takes up too much of the time spent in this desert.
Believe it or not…just kidding; believe it because I tell you so! Under the palace is a not remotely hidden portal to an otherworldly complex of pathways leading nowhere in particular! Quite the site for meeting foreign dignitaries and suitably impress them! It even came with a portal to the most royal valley of kings ever seen! In one of the tombs there lurked a hideously leering maggot with a constant smirk on his face. I bet he was staring right at my chest plate just to annoy me! He was obviously a grassroot agent, seeing as he dropped a highly toxic and beamingly green suit of scale mail. What an insult to hand something like that to ME!
Maltatai: Yawn…would save time if she just wrote “been there, done that, I will rule the world for eternity bow down you underling maggots”…but it continues here, among all this cluttering pictures and scribbling in the margin…
Törnrosa: Dear journal, my life has new purpose! This is so awesome words barely suffice! Beyond the slimy environmentalist there was a great hall and in the middle… I could not help but burst out singing as I felt his presence before rounding the corner…
Maltatai: Indeed, there is even a note with the lyrics here! A duet I see…
Angel of Lightning
Floria:
What in the world was that great maggot?
Really you were perfect
I only wish I knew your secret
How do you thrash bosses?
Törnrosa:
Chronicles spoke of an angel
I used to dream he’d appear
Now as I strike I can sense him
And I know he’s here
Here in this room he calls me softly
Somewhere inside that lake
Somehow I know he’s chained at that stone
He, the unseen genius
Floria:
Rosie you must have been dreaming
Stories like that can’t be true
Rosie you’re talking in riddles
And it’s quite like youuuu
“Törnrosa and Floria get’s close enough for Tyrael to become visible”
Törnrosa:
AAANGEL OF LIGHTNING, GUIDE AND GUARDIAN!
GRAAANT TO ME YOUR GLORY!
ANGEL OF MUSIC, HIDE NO LONGER!
SAVE ME FROM HER NICKNAMES!
He’s with me almost now
Floria:
That bridge looks old
Törnrosa:
Chains all around
Those wings, oh my, they’re white
Enlightens me
Floria:
Struck like lightning
Törnrosa: The wonderful angel enlightened me about a great many things, from the divine lore to the threat posed by a group of miscreants in amazons clothing! Apparently an unholy triumvirate of anti-heavenly delinquents is about to unite, posing a serious threat to the pure guidance given to the peasants by the deserving caste. Obviously these three are the true Prime Evils of our time. Demon brothers are yesterday’s main concern. I mean, demons serve a purpose at least by keeping the populace in line and in check by fear, for which the illuminated heavenly aid is the only relief.
The wondrous celestial being instructed me to travel to Kurast and catch up with the last member of the unholy union. Only by stopping her can the rest of his masterful plan be set in motion properly. And then we shall rule Sanctuary as God-king and Queen-god, guiding it to a future more enlightened that ever! Bow before the higher powers! Bow to the light!
Maltatai: Amazon UNION!?!? Of those three!? Triumvirate? Bwahahahaaahahahaha!!! Over and outahahahaha!
Obviously precursor dynasties have ruled this and probably all other regions from Lut Gholein before, manifested by the many extravagant tombs littering the area. Despite their majestic might, it seems that stray catwomen have occupied some, to the horror of the former as well as present inhabitants.
Far less glamorous are some slimy sewers and a trail of underground tunnels dug out by overgrown…whatever environmental abomination they are. The foul maggoty leggy things were accompanied by scarabs that emitted lightning and in one case a ring of cold! It almost got me! The outrage! I impaled some of them on my new pike. Perhaps leaving them hanging on stakes along the roads will encourage the rest to bow down to their betters?
Both the shamefully worldly tavern owner and the much more spiritual and hopefully receptacle smith had some really sharp looking items for sale. Massive gold! Should leave no spectator in doubt about who’s in charge here.
Even Floria got some new items. Sigh! Alas, the minions of today! Ever demanding the attention of their masters and the lavish spending of rightfully looted gold. It worked surprisingly well, giving her a new magical present now and then. I still think staff management takes up too much of the time spent in this desert.
Believe it or not…just kidding; believe it because I tell you so! Under the palace is a not remotely hidden portal to an otherworldly complex of pathways leading nowhere in particular! Quite the site for meeting foreign dignitaries and suitably impress them! It even came with a portal to the most royal valley of kings ever seen! In one of the tombs there lurked a hideously leering maggot with a constant smirk on his face. I bet he was staring right at my chest plate just to annoy me! He was obviously a grassroot agent, seeing as he dropped a highly toxic and beamingly green suit of scale mail. What an insult to hand something like that to ME!
Maltatai: Yawn…would save time if she just wrote “been there, done that, I will rule the world for eternity bow down you underling maggots”…but it continues here, among all this cluttering pictures and scribbling in the margin…
Törnrosa: Dear journal, my life has new purpose! This is so awesome words barely suffice! Beyond the slimy environmentalist there was a great hall and in the middle… I could not help but burst out singing as I felt his presence before rounding the corner…
Maltatai: Indeed, there is even a note with the lyrics here! A duet I see…
Angel of Lightning
Floria:
What in the world was that great maggot?
Really you were perfect
I only wish I knew your secret
How do you thrash bosses?
Törnrosa:
Chronicles spoke of an angel
I used to dream he’d appear
Now as I strike I can sense him
And I know he’s here
Here in this room he calls me softly
Somewhere inside that lake
Somehow I know he’s chained at that stone
He, the unseen genius
Floria:
Rosie you must have been dreaming
Stories like that can’t be true
Rosie you’re talking in riddles
And it’s quite like youuuu
“Törnrosa and Floria get’s close enough for Tyrael to become visible”
Törnrosa:
AAANGEL OF LIGHTNING, GUIDE AND GUARDIAN!
GRAAANT TO ME YOUR GLORY!
ANGEL OF MUSIC, HIDE NO LONGER!
SAVE ME FROM HER NICKNAMES!
He’s with me almost now
Floria:
That bridge looks old
Törnrosa:
Chains all around
Those wings, oh my, they’re white
Enlightens me
Floria:
Struck like lightning
Törnrosa: The wonderful angel enlightened me about a great many things, from the divine lore to the threat posed by a group of miscreants in amazons clothing! Apparently an unholy triumvirate of anti-heavenly delinquents is about to unite, posing a serious threat to the pure guidance given to the peasants by the deserving caste. Obviously these three are the true Prime Evils of our time. Demon brothers are yesterday’s main concern. I mean, demons serve a purpose at least by keeping the populace in line and in check by fear, for which the illuminated heavenly aid is the only relief.
The wondrous celestial being instructed me to travel to Kurast and catch up with the last member of the unholy union. Only by stopping her can the rest of his masterful plan be set in motion properly. And then we shall rule Sanctuary as God-king and Queen-god, guiding it to a future more enlightened that ever! Bow before the higher powers! Bow to the light!
Maltatai: Amazon UNION!?!? Of those three!? Triumvirate? Bwahahahaaahahahaha!!! Over and outahahahaha!
Episode 5. Leafy Vegetables
Maltatai: It has crossed my mind that so far all episodes have begun with the retelling of Askungens comings and throwings. In the interest of democratic equality this episode shall start with selected sections of the Enlightened Scroll, the holy…well, the gathered writings of Törnrosa and associated elements, of yet undetermined holiness.
Törnrosa: After the grand and glorious wandering through the desert the chosen followers and agents of Heaven crossed the stormy sea. There in the east they would find answers they sought, and perhaps salvation.
Maltatai: Getting quite a bit melodramatic here… Is it the recently found co-deity or has she read the script for the Diablo I epilogue too much?
Törnrosa: Alas, the evil minions of darkness had anticipated the coming of the divine one and scattered a multitude of horrible snakes across the whole continent! Walking through the forest of doom she feared not for the Light itself was with her...and Floria was scouting ahead and stomped the ground very hard to scare the snakes away.
And the champion of light shall glance at the ground and behold! There shall lay a mightily suitable ring dropped from one of the many minions of environmental activists. And she (champion of light) shall let out a triumphant exclamation that this ring shall rule all attack rating setups, let her find all weak spots of the enemy and hit them, bring her and the most holy archangel closer and possibly bonded. And she shall compose a short verse beginning with "One ring to rule them all, one ring to..." and then realise it is a cheesy thing to do and drop the idea.
Maltatai: Reading through...and what's this? "The coming of the obnoxious valkyrie"?
Törnrosa: And Div. (short for divine, like zakarumites have been known to put "St." before their names as a sign of religious saintly significance) Törnrosa raised her spear and called out "Oh light, bless this thy amazon on that she may stab thy enemy into tiny bits, in thy mercy." And the heavens smiled, and the righteous ones feasted on cloud stalkers, and bananas, and doom apes, and soul killer brains, and breakfast cereal, and... skipped many lines to be able to ask for guidance on how to summon mighty aid more quickly. And the light spake, saying "First shall thou raise thy spear three times. No more, no less. Three shall be the number thou shall count, and the number of the counting shall be three. Neither shall thou count to four, nor two, except in order to continue to three. Five is totally wrong. Once the number three, being the third number, hast been counted, then pointedst thou thy spear onto thy enemy and summon the valkyrie upon him, who, having been naughty in my sight, dare snuff it".
And Div. Törnrosa raised her spear and chanted "One, two...FIVE!" And the smartass helper Floria added "Three!" and Div. Törnrosa corrected herself shouting "Three!" and there was a long casting animation and Div. Törnrosa grew impatient and called out for the tardy valkyrie in an utterly Barbaric northern tongue from lands where valkyries presumably where firmly rooted before amazons joined their crowd.
"Petronella! Petronella! Precis som om jag inte ringde alls. Hur kan hon lämna en stackars sjuk människa på detta vis, mol allena? Sicket elände. Hon låter mig sitta här och dö. Petronella!
"Frun ropade."
"Ja! Skynda dig!"
"Jag kommer!"
"Sätt fart på påkarna, snigelpiga"!
"Jag kommer!"
"Skynda dig, skynda dig, skynda dig!"
"Snälla frun jäkta mig inte jag skyndar mig faktiskt så mycket jag kan!"
"Bråka inte så mycket din lergolem utan kom hit!"
"Ja, ja JAG KOMMER! OAH AH AH AAAH!"
"Åh, va är det nu då?"
"Frun jäktade mig så jag slog huvet i dörröppningen! Jag fick en stor bula i pannan! Titta!"
"I gengäld..."
"AAAAOOOH!"
"I gengäld har hon låtit mig sitta här och vänta i 30 nivåer så skrik inte!"
"AAJ mitt huvud! Bulan värker!"
"Tyst med dig ditt våp så jag får skälla ut dig ordentligt!"
"Frun är allt bra grym. Jag som har slagit mig så förfärligt."
"Åh, lägg ned! Så mycket liv som valkyrier har kan du knappt ha känt det!"
Maltatai: And here is an English translation. How convenient.
"Petronella!" Hello? Hello? Petronella! Just as if didn't called at all. How can she leave a poor sick human like this, all alone? Alas. She's letting me just sit here and deed. Petronella!
"My lady called?"
"Yes, hurry!"
"I'm coming!"
"Yes! Move it, slugmaiden!"
"I'm coming!"
"Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up!"
"Please my lady don't rush me I'm really hurrying as much as I can!"
"Don't argue so much you clay golem but get down here!"
"Yes, yes I'M COMING! OAH AH AH AAAH!"
"Oh, what is it now then?"
"My lady rushed me so much that I bumped into the archway! I got a large bruise on my forehead! Look!"
"In return..."
"AAAAOOOH!"
"In return you have let me sit here waiting for 30 levels so don't shout about it!"
"AAOH my head! The bruise is aching!"
"Oh be quiet you whiner so I can chew you out properly!"
"My lady is really a cruel one. I, who have hurt myself so terribly."
"Oh, cut it out! With all the hit points you have you would hardly have felt it!"
Törnrosa: Hindered by the cheekiness of the newest member the lighteous and righteous chosen ones penetrated deeply into the very heart of the jungle. Which curiously enough was a city. Here were some old relics here and there but they resisted such temptation and nobly strode on through the stony architecture that seemed constructed by stoned Zakarumite heathens without the stones to actually go out and use their silly buildings on anything, as Hratli would put it.
Maltatai: Here it seems to be VERY scribbled and filled with curse words and insults. There is even a picture of a crudely drawn girl with leaves as clothing and pierced by lightning bolts, dropping her head at an awkward moment. Hmm... Let's look further and see if we can gain some insight into the reason for these outbursts... Ah, of course, here is the problem. Askungen got away.
Maltatai: That's it for today's book club incitement and general cultural learnings of Sanctuary for make benefit glorious nation of Single Player Forum. Now time for Askungens views on the Kurast trip. Being so green and natural, one would of course expect her to be overflowing with enthusiasm over the fantastic lush forests and blossoming biotope that the Eastern jungles are. But...no? Let's listen in and overhear the discussion over there (tried and tested tactic both on land and at sea...).
___________________________________________________________
Askungen: Slimy, slippery eewy forest! It has spiders everywhere! When they are not visible they hide behind the trees and under the rocks. They bide their time and when we least expect it they will come out and spin us all into a horrible, world-encompassing web of eternal doom and...
Snövit: And bedtime! Sweet dreams everyone and hope you enjoyed this fairytale.
Askungen: It's true! There are countless spiders in Kurast, waiting for the opportunity! I've seen them! Dozens, at least! They are all over the huge Spider Forest, that is obviously the dreadful vanguard of the forces of darkness, as it lay closest to the docks and the last spider-free bastion. Soon they will try to establish a colony here on the Amazon islands and infiltrate our bedrooms! They even chased Asheara and her demons out of the jungle!
Snövit: Asheara and her demons???
Askungen: Yeah...she said she led the demons for months.
Snövit: Perhaps more like led them to the town so the people would feel the need to hire expensive mercenaries to feel safe?
Askungen: She couldn't...that, that, SPIDER QUEEN!
Snövit: Maybe she had something to do with the overly pessimistic spider phobia.
Askungen: Nuh-uh! I am totally right, they are just lying in wait there, for us to make a mistake!
Snövit: The operative words being "just lying there".
Askungen: Just wait until we wake up trapped in webs!
Snövit: Then we will know Rödluvan has had another of her oh so brilliant ideas for a prank.
Askungen: Ignorant bowazon! The spiders of Kurast even have temples with a caste of mages and insect servants! They have hidden caches of supplies and they are so powerful they don't even have to hide them but can give them stupid obvious names like the "Spider Cavern".
Chief among them was Szzark the Burning or something. He was probably teamed up with Snark the Freezing or something.
I countered with burning assistance of my own. The obnoxious Kasim having failed to take the spider threat seriously, I hired the mage Scorch. He did not have a cheesy name for a fire mage.
Snövit: ...
Askungen: A ranged hireling was actually much better suited to my tactics. Since poison javelins depend on hitting and then hiding you don't want a meleeing moron like a town guard to rush into the fray instead of retreating sensibly.
Snövit: I quite agree.
Askungen: I made some great personal development gains in the jungle. I found rings with mana leeching and life leeching and before you say anything they did not make me a leech. The exceptionally well dressed Cathan was nowhere to be seen so I sold her stylish attire that I had found.
Even Ormus actually managed to give a useful ring despite his assertions of opposite intent. And suddenly, later, the first of many valkyries stepped onto the scene! My tank, my own, my precioussss... Ahem, where was I? Near the city itself, which was guarded by one of these elitist snobs who wishes to rule on their own and calls everyone else an uneducated mob member. You probably know who I mean.
The city of Kurast had this weird defence mechanism over the moats that caused my poison clouds to dissapear. Very odd. Even odder was that no defenders took advantage of these invisible shields or whatever. They hid instead in the temples of doom where all inhabitants where more cursed the higher up in the hierarchy they got. Obviously that proves the superiority of a decentralised form of government.
Snövit: Or a liberal society with very little state power.
Askungen: Absolutely not, that will end up in a perverse capitalistic monopoly, tapping into the veins of hard procedural work that is the lifeblood of the society!
Snövit: Just like the wand of lifetap you just had bought?
Askungen: No, not like that at all.
Snövit: The rest of us travelled through the jungle in pursuit of the fleeing Prime Evils. It would be interesting to hear something about your motivations. What was the main objective in Kurast?
Askungen: To deal with the severe environmental problems, obviously. There was a completely scandalous level of pollution in the mighty Argentek river and the chaotic fauna and flora had obviously been exposed to vile industrial toxins.
Snövit: Industrial?
Askungen: The same. Things like coal and steel unions (ok, those were very good) and OIL! The oil pollution had gone on for quite some time and when I arrived people even threw whole oil cans into the sewer! It was totally grossly appalling! The culprit was none other than Mephisto and I searched him out and wreaked great vengeance upon him. Sending him home to hell. Hmm...
It then struck me that I should probably follow and make sure no capitalistic devils of hell started using the portal as a means to dump toxic waste in our world.
Maltatai: Time to get the hell out of the jungle and go to hell in other words. Over and out.
Törnrosa: After the grand and glorious wandering through the desert the chosen followers and agents of Heaven crossed the stormy sea. There in the east they would find answers they sought, and perhaps salvation.
Maltatai: Getting quite a bit melodramatic here… Is it the recently found co-deity or has she read the script for the Diablo I epilogue too much?
Törnrosa: Alas, the evil minions of darkness had anticipated the coming of the divine one and scattered a multitude of horrible snakes across the whole continent! Walking through the forest of doom she feared not for the Light itself was with her...and Floria was scouting ahead and stomped the ground very hard to scare the snakes away.
And the champion of light shall glance at the ground and behold! There shall lay a mightily suitable ring dropped from one of the many minions of environmental activists. And she (champion of light) shall let out a triumphant exclamation that this ring shall rule all attack rating setups, let her find all weak spots of the enemy and hit them, bring her and the most holy archangel closer and possibly bonded. And she shall compose a short verse beginning with "One ring to rule them all, one ring to..." and then realise it is a cheesy thing to do and drop the idea.
Maltatai: Reading through...and what's this? "The coming of the obnoxious valkyrie"?
Törnrosa: And Div. (short for divine, like zakarumites have been known to put "St." before their names as a sign of religious saintly significance) Törnrosa raised her spear and called out "Oh light, bless this thy amazon on that she may stab thy enemy into tiny bits, in thy mercy." And the heavens smiled, and the righteous ones feasted on cloud stalkers, and bananas, and doom apes, and soul killer brains, and breakfast cereal, and... skipped many lines to be able to ask for guidance on how to summon mighty aid more quickly. And the light spake, saying "First shall thou raise thy spear three times. No more, no less. Three shall be the number thou shall count, and the number of the counting shall be three. Neither shall thou count to four, nor two, except in order to continue to three. Five is totally wrong. Once the number three, being the third number, hast been counted, then pointedst thou thy spear onto thy enemy and summon the valkyrie upon him, who, having been naughty in my sight, dare snuff it".
And Div. Törnrosa raised her spear and chanted "One, two...FIVE!" And the smartass helper Floria added "Three!" and Div. Törnrosa corrected herself shouting "Three!" and there was a long casting animation and Div. Törnrosa grew impatient and called out for the tardy valkyrie in an utterly Barbaric northern tongue from lands where valkyries presumably where firmly rooted before amazons joined their crowd.
"Petronella! Petronella! Precis som om jag inte ringde alls. Hur kan hon lämna en stackars sjuk människa på detta vis, mol allena? Sicket elände. Hon låter mig sitta här och dö. Petronella!
"Frun ropade."
"Ja! Skynda dig!"
"Jag kommer!"
"Sätt fart på påkarna, snigelpiga"!
"Jag kommer!"
"Skynda dig, skynda dig, skynda dig!"
"Snälla frun jäkta mig inte jag skyndar mig faktiskt så mycket jag kan!"
"Bråka inte så mycket din lergolem utan kom hit!"
"Ja, ja JAG KOMMER! OAH AH AH AAAH!"
"Åh, va är det nu då?"
"Frun jäktade mig så jag slog huvet i dörröppningen! Jag fick en stor bula i pannan! Titta!"
"I gengäld..."
"AAAAOOOH!"
"I gengäld har hon låtit mig sitta här och vänta i 30 nivåer så skrik inte!"
"AAJ mitt huvud! Bulan värker!"
"Tyst med dig ditt våp så jag får skälla ut dig ordentligt!"
"Frun är allt bra grym. Jag som har slagit mig så förfärligt."
"Åh, lägg ned! Så mycket liv som valkyrier har kan du knappt ha känt det!"
Maltatai: And here is an English translation. How convenient.
"Petronella!" Hello? Hello? Petronella! Just as if didn't called at all. How can she leave a poor sick human like this, all alone? Alas. She's letting me just sit here and deed. Petronella!
"My lady called?"
"Yes, hurry!"
"I'm coming!"
"Yes! Move it, slugmaiden!"
"I'm coming!"
"Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up!"
"Please my lady don't rush me I'm really hurrying as much as I can!"
"Don't argue so much you clay golem but get down here!"
"Yes, yes I'M COMING! OAH AH AH AAAH!"
"Oh, what is it now then?"
"My lady rushed me so much that I bumped into the archway! I got a large bruise on my forehead! Look!"
"In return..."
"AAAAOOOH!"
"In return you have let me sit here waiting for 30 levels so don't shout about it!"
"AAOH my head! The bruise is aching!"
"Oh be quiet you whiner so I can chew you out properly!"
"My lady is really a cruel one. I, who have hurt myself so terribly."
"Oh, cut it out! With all the hit points you have you would hardly have felt it!"
Törnrosa: Hindered by the cheekiness of the newest member the lighteous and righteous chosen ones penetrated deeply into the very heart of the jungle. Which curiously enough was a city. Here were some old relics here and there but they resisted such temptation and nobly strode on through the stony architecture that seemed constructed by stoned Zakarumite heathens without the stones to actually go out and use their silly buildings on anything, as Hratli would put it.
Maltatai: Here it seems to be VERY scribbled and filled with curse words and insults. There is even a picture of a crudely drawn girl with leaves as clothing and pierced by lightning bolts, dropping her head at an awkward moment. Hmm... Let's look further and see if we can gain some insight into the reason for these outbursts... Ah, of course, here is the problem. Askungen got away.
Maltatai: That's it for today's book club incitement and general cultural learnings of Sanctuary for make benefit glorious nation of Single Player Forum. Now time for Askungens views on the Kurast trip. Being so green and natural, one would of course expect her to be overflowing with enthusiasm over the fantastic lush forests and blossoming biotope that the Eastern jungles are. But...no? Let's listen in and overhear the discussion over there (tried and tested tactic both on land and at sea...).
___________________________________________________________
Askungen: Slimy, slippery eewy forest! It has spiders everywhere! When they are not visible they hide behind the trees and under the rocks. They bide their time and when we least expect it they will come out and spin us all into a horrible, world-encompassing web of eternal doom and...
Snövit: And bedtime! Sweet dreams everyone and hope you enjoyed this fairytale.
Askungen: It's true! There are countless spiders in Kurast, waiting for the opportunity! I've seen them! Dozens, at least! They are all over the huge Spider Forest, that is obviously the dreadful vanguard of the forces of darkness, as it lay closest to the docks and the last spider-free bastion. Soon they will try to establish a colony here on the Amazon islands and infiltrate our bedrooms! They even chased Asheara and her demons out of the jungle!
Snövit: Asheara and her demons???
Askungen: Yeah...she said she led the demons for months.
Snövit: Perhaps more like led them to the town so the people would feel the need to hire expensive mercenaries to feel safe?
Askungen: She couldn't...that, that, SPIDER QUEEN!
Snövit: Maybe she had something to do with the overly pessimistic spider phobia.
Askungen: Nuh-uh! I am totally right, they are just lying in wait there, for us to make a mistake!
Snövit: The operative words being "just lying there".
Askungen: Just wait until we wake up trapped in webs!
Snövit: Then we will know Rödluvan has had another of her oh so brilliant ideas for a prank.
Askungen: Ignorant bowazon! The spiders of Kurast even have temples with a caste of mages and insect servants! They have hidden caches of supplies and they are so powerful they don't even have to hide them but can give them stupid obvious names like the "Spider Cavern".
Chief among them was Szzark the Burning or something. He was probably teamed up with Snark the Freezing or something.
I countered with burning assistance of my own. The obnoxious Kasim having failed to take the spider threat seriously, I hired the mage Scorch. He did not have a cheesy name for a fire mage.
Snövit: ...
Askungen: A ranged hireling was actually much better suited to my tactics. Since poison javelins depend on hitting and then hiding you don't want a meleeing moron like a town guard to rush into the fray instead of retreating sensibly.
Snövit: I quite agree.
Askungen: I made some great personal development gains in the jungle. I found rings with mana leeching and life leeching and before you say anything they did not make me a leech. The exceptionally well dressed Cathan was nowhere to be seen so I sold her stylish attire that I had found.
Even Ormus actually managed to give a useful ring despite his assertions of opposite intent. And suddenly, later, the first of many valkyries stepped onto the scene! My tank, my own, my precioussss... Ahem, where was I? Near the city itself, which was guarded by one of these elitist snobs who wishes to rule on their own and calls everyone else an uneducated mob member. You probably know who I mean.
The city of Kurast had this weird defence mechanism over the moats that caused my poison clouds to dissapear. Very odd. Even odder was that no defenders took advantage of these invisible shields or whatever. They hid instead in the temples of doom where all inhabitants where more cursed the higher up in the hierarchy they got. Obviously that proves the superiority of a decentralised form of government.
Snövit: Or a liberal society with very little state power.
Askungen: Absolutely not, that will end up in a perverse capitalistic monopoly, tapping into the veins of hard procedural work that is the lifeblood of the society!
Snövit: Just like the wand of lifetap you just had bought?
Askungen: No, not like that at all.
Snövit: The rest of us travelled through the jungle in pursuit of the fleeing Prime Evils. It would be interesting to hear something about your motivations. What was the main objective in Kurast?
Askungen: To deal with the severe environmental problems, obviously. There was a completely scandalous level of pollution in the mighty Argentek river and the chaotic fauna and flora had obviously been exposed to vile industrial toxins.
Snövit: Industrial?
Askungen: The same. Things like coal and steel unions (ok, those were very good) and OIL! The oil pollution had gone on for quite some time and when I arrived people even threw whole oil cans into the sewer! It was totally grossly appalling! The culprit was none other than Mephisto and I searched him out and wreaked great vengeance upon him. Sending him home to hell. Hmm...
It then struck me that I should probably follow and make sure no capitalistic devils of hell started using the portal as a means to dump toxic waste in our world.
Maltatai: Time to get the hell out of the jungle and go to hell in other words. Over and out.
Epic Rap Battle of Sanctuary 1
Rödluvan
versus Snövit 
YOU are welcome-to-my-red-hood-where-the-red-blood-from-the-Langer-Briser-will-flow
Best feel lucky cause this treacherous little ***** isn't slow
I mop the floor with the life- and mana-drained-out foes i my way
I seduce 'bout half of Sanctuary I wield da magic of fey!
Hey sit down you very LITTLE girl and hear your grand matron tell ya
Time to end the facade and own up to your shortcomings oh hell yah!
You have the weeny little matchsticks known as exploding arrows
I got the prince, XP and skills so scary Ultralisks burrow
What is one salty fruit when the world is my buffet, I'll even lend a potion for you to wash it down if you pray
Your fancy ice looks good on paper but when true evil lurks
You can afford but half a dozen and then you both look like jerks
You snooty auntie Scrooge, call me a scarlet harlot of this and every vicinity
But get some action of your own, don't live through others unto infinity!
And I'm one to live through others, comes from the very same
Who spent an ocean voyage listening by my door, that was lame!
Your jealousy is greener than your charged up venom skill
And you wanna give to everyone but I'll pay the bill
I humiliate ancients with no need of potions before breakfast is due
And by night with my Meshif I'm even hotter than you!
WHO WON? WHO'S NEXT? YOU DECIDE.
Rödluvan
versus Snövit YOU are welcome-to-my-red-hood-where-the-red-blood-from-the-Langer-Briser-will-flow
Best feel lucky cause this treacherous little ***** isn't slow
I mop the floor with the life- and mana-drained-out foes i my way
I seduce 'bout half of Sanctuary I wield da magic of fey!
Hey sit down you very LITTLE girl and hear your grand matron tell ya
Time to end the facade and own up to your shortcomings oh hell yah!
You have the weeny little matchsticks known as exploding arrows
I got the prince, XP and skills so scary Ultralisks burrow
What is one salty fruit when the world is my buffet, I'll even lend a potion for you to wash it down if you pray
Your fancy ice looks good on paper but when true evil lurks
You can afford but half a dozen and then you both look like jerks
You snooty auntie Scrooge, call me a scarlet harlot of this and every vicinity
But get some action of your own, don't live through others unto infinity!
And I'm one to live through others, comes from the very same
Who spent an ocean voyage listening by my door, that was lame!
Your jealousy is greener than your charged up venom skill
And you wanna give to everyone but I'll pay the bill
I humiliate ancients with no need of potions before breakfast is due
And by night with my Meshif I'm even hotter than you!
WHO WON? WHO'S NEXT? YOU DECIDE.
Episode 6. Garlic Mustard
Floria: Dear journal, please stay safe back there in camp and hope you never get sneakily read by some bad people who reads other peoples journals. Those are really stupid and should be thrown into great tanks of garlic mustard. For those of that category who don't think there exist such a thing as garlic mustard I can tell you it does. I invented it. So now you know that, spying bad people, and will never dare to read someone elses private writings again. Fear the garlic mustard!
Maltatai: What the he...is this some kind of joke? Does anybody see Rödluvan hiding in a shrubbery nearby?
Floria: Dear journal, much has happened since I wrote last time. I am now employed by this flashy Amazon woman called Törnrosa. She's so awesome! She also has a valkyrie that appears all the time called Petronella who is really funny. Törnrosa is very stubborn and headstrong even to the point that she headbutts enemies from time to time to prove a point. The point being of course the point of her spears but still cool. We have swept through Aranoch and the jungles of Kurast battling terrible demons and discovering old awesome relics. We've also battled slightly less terrible snakes that I have scared away by stomping the ground because Törnrosa is afraid of snakes.
We then went to hell because a fallen Amazon is rallying her minions there according to Törnrosa. She says that the fallen Amazon shoots poison projectiles at her enemy which sounds like Andariel. But if it is a fallen Amazon I wonder if she says "Rakanishu!" all the time and hammers in the air with a very small mallet. Tö rnrosa went first and leaped right at the angel guy who was waiting in this hell that had a fireplace and clean marble floors, sculpted archways and further away local shops. I must say that I didn't find it as scary as most of Kashyas stories about hell. The rest of the place was much worse, though. It was dark and dusty and filled with boring big monsters that took an eternity to shoot down because they were resistant to fire. There was one thing that looked funny and had a head with horns and a grinning mouth sculpted. There was a tongue hanging out of the mouth with a sign under saying "pull here". Törnrosa forbade me to try it. She can be so dull but I suppose it's just her protective leader side.
Later during our wanderings we found a great wooden charm. I wonder why it hadn't burned up in the heated burning river climate but in any case it was intact and gave the wearer great lightning resistance. Törnrosa adored it for the stylish patterns. We later found a sort of abandoned jewelry shop which had a very nice little mixed collection of gems and a rarely seen normal rune. The stones were pretty I suppose but someone should stick them in a necklace or something instead of leaving them unused here on the ground. It is so...unfinished. And probably irresponsible.
Since the evilsies were of an unmeasured number but most probable two or three, Törnrosa decided that we should have a holy ambush set up and fall upon the heathen enemy when they were passing a bridge here in the river. I wondered for a moment why she was so sure that the evilsies would be wanting to pass this bridge because Hell in general is like this sort of place you want to avoid. I was sure Törnrosa had a smart reason because she always seem smart and enlightened and wise.
Törnrosa found a Shael rune at one point which is pretty uncommon in these parts of the world they say, so maybe there's something to this blessed by divine angel powers thing. Tyrael doesn't do much back in the fortress, he mainly hover on the spot but who knows what goes on when I'm asleep? Note to self: perhaps I should start eavesdropping? Anyways, Törnrosa used the rune to craft a superb shield from a socketed tower shield. It is a runeword called "Shaeleth", which is apparently Norse for "Rhyme" so I made up some rhymes. Petronella quickly caught on. Törnrosa was professional as always and urged everyone to stay focused but that was rather hard at the moment.
"Striking spear, making point, government not to be joint"
"Administration is eternal, ghosts and ghouls are quite nocturnal, javazons will always spurn all, candidates that don't hit sternal"
Eventually no evilsies appeared from the human plane. They must have gone into hell in another way or through another route. It is after all pretty common for people to be told to go to hell when you think about it so I wouldn't be surprised if there were many ways to get in here. It would get sort of cluttered otherwise. Like the Rogue Pass before the summer markets. But without so many wagons. I don't think anyone brought their wagon along with them to hell. Gheed probably will, though. He will need two wagons to contain all his counterfeit fake coins.
Our group continued from the anticlimactical bridge and plunged deeply into the most chaotic hell parts, which happened to be a symmetricallly shaped long hall... There were then some corridors in various directions which by all means were a little different in size and shape but honestly I had expected it to be slightly more deserving of the name "Chaos Sanctuary". There were dozens of nasty demons and dumb knights guarding it, commanded by oblivious knights. After we had crushed them all there was a loud rumbling of the earth and we braced ourselves to face the evil fallen Amazons but instead came a gigantic red demon with spikes and claws! It was horrible and I was overcome with dread thinking that surely every hireling would be doomed when this monster appears.
Maltatai: She does have a point. The Lord of Terror is quite the terror for hirelings facing him the first time.
Floria: Törnrosa shouted that I should roll to the side which I did, sort of. There was a rock on the floor and I tripped over it. When I got up I saw the huge red thind slashing with his claws at Törnrosa but she just stood there and blocked and stabbed back with lightning flashing out from her spear point. Petronella had been unsummoned at the moment when the demons fire burned away her connection. Törnrosa didn't seem to need her help though. It was so incredible. I first thought that I should take cover behind the stone and snipe at the demon but then I remembered that 1: the stone was too small, 2: the demon was so large it could see over it anyway and 3: that the stone wouldn't protect against the fire and the lightning red breath that it breathed out. But none of it could make Törnrosa flinch. We just returned to the Pandemonium Fortress once to restock the supply of potions but even that went well because she charged right at the demon when we got back and occupied all its attention.
It took many minutes and the she managed to hit the red stone on its forehead. Then there was such a flash that I had to turn my head away. It seemed to short-circuit the creature because it underwent some sort of special light effect and then collapsed in a collapsed husk kind of way. I mean the flash and stone-hitting, not me turning away from it. But that would have been useful, making adversaries dissapear just by turning away from them. Just like when politicians try to solve all problems too complicated to be summed up in a one sentence debate slogan...
Hell has been very scary but I think I will be safe. I have the best employer ever to hide behind if that should be necessary. Stay safe you too, journal and remember to call for the garlic mustard if that time comes.
________________________________________________________________________
Maltatai: Askungen will now continue her tale which ended with her going to hell and now begins with telling her mercenary hireling to go to hell.
Askungen: You would have done the same I assure you! Scorch was just a big piece of pesticides! He would have us all burn down the jungle completely even now after Mephisto was gone and the nature could return to normal. He is an industrial idiot and a pollution plant propaganda pain in the worlds *** (which is Kurast the spider filled place)!
Maltatai: Totally unacceptable I understand.
Askungen: So instead I hired the cold mage Vanji. I thought he would be more balanced and calm and also be effective against the hellish minions of hell.
Maltatai: And was he?
Askungen: Quite effective but not a vast improvement as travelling company. He was as cold as the spells he fling! Like NO sense of compassion for the environment and all the innocent creatures being slain at the hands of invading demons and corrupted churchgoers!
Just as an example, I had acquired a nice acrobatic amulet and wanted to try it out. So I dropped my weapons and sprinted along the ground in the yard of the Pandemonium Fortress. The idea was to jump and do a spectacular spinning series of ways to fly through the air but I made a minor miscalculations so it didn't work as intended.
Maltatai: What is the meaning of "minor miscalculation"?
Askungen: I didn't count with Jamellas bookstore being right where it was. It really got in the way.
Maltatai: Naughty, naughty bookstore roofs. You can't trust any of them these days it seems.
Askungen: ...
Maltatai: Please continue. I hope Jamella wasn't angry.
Askungen: No, she actually healed me from the hurting head and the sprained ankle I got. But then, that's sort of her thing. She's very patient. I wonder if she even can get angry. But then Vanji just sneered and scoffed and said "I know that that's your idea of agility but until you acquire more balance than a disfiguered cow wielding an overgrown halberd I suggest you keep your clumsy feet on the ground". I was so baffled and embarrased that I couldn't think of any answer and just headed right for the doorway out.
Maltatai: That was really rude. Even if such an amulet is primarily useful for dodging on ground leve it is no reason to press the point in the manner of a television singing contest show judge.
Askungen: Quite right...what?
Maltatai: Ah, just something that should never have been spawned from the dark abysses. Every world has its share. Imagine the butcher, the smith and Andariel sitting behind a desk spitting out snide remarks about performing peoples performances all day. Utter crap as entertainment and utterly useless.
Askungen: Speaking of smiths, I met one at the hellforge - who would have thought! - and he had the aura of a town guard of Lut Gholein that has travelled too long with an icy main character. Odd, isn't it?
Maltatai: Perhaps it was an elaborate plot to entice unrest by pitting javazons and bowazons against each other?
Askungen: You think so?
Maltatai: ...
Askungen: Of course! I can see it now! Thanks Maltatai, that really explains it all!
Maltatai: Not that I mind such words from a protagonist (has it ever happened before?) but what explains what?
Askungen: It is all a plot to create mistrust in our grassroot community. And that's why Diablo dropped such worthless junk, mostly.
Maltatai: That was sort of a joke...hrm, nevermind, what did Diablo drop? But maybe you should start from the beginning of the hellish adventures.
Askungen: Fine, fine. "Ahem". Once upon a time there lived a hard-working red devil in a harmoniously chaotic sanctuary. The devil had just gotten home and was strething his legs on the sofa on the lower floor that was accesible only through the star shaped lift in the middle of the entrance and ballroom hall. It had been a long lifetimes-long exile in Sanctuary but now it was finally over and just the paperwork remained. But that could wait until the next monday. The news hellevision programme was filled with useless junk news stories, like that of the Bverrit Keep shield being lost to invaders, as if anyone cared about it. The devil yawned and went to bed.
The next morning a lesser demon barged in right after the breakfast and disturbed the moment with excessively more disturbing news. The Hellforge itself had been breached and the culprits had gotten away with smashing his brothers soulstone, yielding an outrageously useful and stylish drop of gems. With a sigh, the red devil summoned his three top captains of disturbing demon packs to stand by to defend the lift operating seals should the chaos spread to the Chaos Sanctuary, a not totally insane idea. The midday passed with little in the way of new events and entertaiment except the security gargoyles going black one by one. The red devil was just about to call for Lord de Seis and ask what the the current location was going on when the lift activated. With a huge sigh the red devil inhaled a lot of poisoned air to fuel his lightning breath of hideous hireling-slaying.
Before him danced a green Amazon between the firestorms while hurling great spears with a cloud of spinach smoke trailing them. Being hit by them was like downing a mouthful of vegetable goo every second. The red devil charged ahead furiously as the Amazon took cover in one of the passages that were somewhat too small to walk in comfortably. Then she came forth again and hurled a new spear. The annoying tactic repeated itself until the red devil cunningly retreated away and forced the antagonist out. The he suddenly switched to targeting the sneering and snorting cold mage dressed in red who fell in half a second, being half the man as the melee hireling, the red devil thought.
When he looked around, the Amazon was gone through a portal. She probably went to restock potion supplies, the red devil thought. If she beats me, unlikely as it is, I still want some measure of revenge. I will take the time to pick up those spare bows and crossbows I have stored and also take a set of weak and useless spears as a further mockery. Then the evil stepsisters that the javelin using Amazon no doubt has will taunt her because she isn't using bows like them. BwahaHAHAHAHAAAHAHA!
True enough, when the Amazon returned along with the undeserving hired mage she had still gracefully had ressurected by the outrageously expensive angel she found the most insulting drop imaginable when she had tanked the red devil and kept him occupied so that her minions were safer and thus bested him.
Maltatai: So you received two excptional rares from normal Diablo, which is quite extraordinary...and they both turned out to be bows. Let's hope Rödluvan and Snövit don't find out about this.
Snövit: Find out about what?
Askungen: Nothing, nothing, just, uh, the embarrasing state of Maltatais grammar and such. Boring and uninteresting. Move along, move along... Maltatai you fool! This is your fault!
Maltatai: What?
Askungen: Don't you know that as soon as you wish strongly enough, especially when you speak it out loud, that someone won't find out about something, they inevitably do!
Maltatai: That's absurd.
Askungen: It still always happen! Here, I'll prove it to you!
Maltatai: Wait, isn't it...
Askungen: Snövit, tell me, are you aware of the fact that Diablo had the enormously bad taste of dropping the outrageous sum of three bows, two of the exceptional, while only one minor javelin, when I destroyed him?
Snövit: Not until you told me right now, no.
Askungen: There you see...WHAT?!
Maltatai: I actually tried to caution you about just telling anyone about that just to prove the point...
Askungen: Still, I proved to be right.
Maltatai: WHAT?!
Askungen: You wished out loud that Snövit or Rödluvan would not find out about Diablos insulting bow drop and now Snövit is aware of it. Point proven.
Maltatai: But that was because you told her about it!
Askungen: Still proves the point. You wished out loud and shortly after she knows.
Maltatai: Causative links, anyone?! This is the absurdest...over and out!
Snövit: So Diablo actually gave you no less than three times as much rare bows as javelins? And the majority of them one category better also? THIS sounds like an interesting story, just let me fetch Rödluvan so we can hear it too...
Maltatai: What the he...is this some kind of joke? Does anybody see Rödluvan hiding in a shrubbery nearby?
Floria: Dear journal, much has happened since I wrote last time. I am now employed by this flashy Amazon woman called Törnrosa. She's so awesome! She also has a valkyrie that appears all the time called Petronella who is really funny. Törnrosa is very stubborn and headstrong even to the point that she headbutts enemies from time to time to prove a point. The point being of course the point of her spears but still cool. We have swept through Aranoch and the jungles of Kurast battling terrible demons and discovering old awesome relics. We've also battled slightly less terrible snakes that I have scared away by stomping the ground because Törnrosa is afraid of snakes.
We then went to hell because a fallen Amazon is rallying her minions there according to Törnrosa. She says that the fallen Amazon shoots poison projectiles at her enemy which sounds like Andariel. But if it is a fallen Amazon I wonder if she says "Rakanishu!" all the time and hammers in the air with a very small mallet. Tö rnrosa went first and leaped right at the angel guy who was waiting in this hell that had a fireplace and clean marble floors, sculpted archways and further away local shops. I must say that I didn't find it as scary as most of Kashyas stories about hell. The rest of the place was much worse, though. It was dark and dusty and filled with boring big monsters that took an eternity to shoot down because they were resistant to fire. There was one thing that looked funny and had a head with horns and a grinning mouth sculpted. There was a tongue hanging out of the mouth with a sign under saying "pull here". Törnrosa forbade me to try it. She can be so dull but I suppose it's just her protective leader side.
Later during our wanderings we found a great wooden charm. I wonder why it hadn't burned up in the heated burning river climate but in any case it was intact and gave the wearer great lightning resistance. Törnrosa adored it for the stylish patterns. We later found a sort of abandoned jewelry shop which had a very nice little mixed collection of gems and a rarely seen normal rune. The stones were pretty I suppose but someone should stick them in a necklace or something instead of leaving them unused here on the ground. It is so...unfinished. And probably irresponsible.
Since the evilsies were of an unmeasured number but most probable two or three, Törnrosa decided that we should have a holy ambush set up and fall upon the heathen enemy when they were passing a bridge here in the river. I wondered for a moment why she was so sure that the evilsies would be wanting to pass this bridge because Hell in general is like this sort of place you want to avoid. I was sure Törnrosa had a smart reason because she always seem smart and enlightened and wise.
Törnrosa found a Shael rune at one point which is pretty uncommon in these parts of the world they say, so maybe there's something to this blessed by divine angel powers thing. Tyrael doesn't do much back in the fortress, he mainly hover on the spot but who knows what goes on when I'm asleep? Note to self: perhaps I should start eavesdropping? Anyways, Törnrosa used the rune to craft a superb shield from a socketed tower shield. It is a runeword called "Shaeleth", which is apparently Norse for "Rhyme" so I made up some rhymes. Petronella quickly caught on. Törnrosa was professional as always and urged everyone to stay focused but that was rather hard at the moment.
"Striking spear, making point, government not to be joint"
"Administration is eternal, ghosts and ghouls are quite nocturnal, javazons will always spurn all, candidates that don't hit sternal"
Eventually no evilsies appeared from the human plane. They must have gone into hell in another way or through another route. It is after all pretty common for people to be told to go to hell when you think about it so I wouldn't be surprised if there were many ways to get in here. It would get sort of cluttered otherwise. Like the Rogue Pass before the summer markets. But without so many wagons. I don't think anyone brought their wagon along with them to hell. Gheed probably will, though. He will need two wagons to contain all his counterfeit fake coins.
Our group continued from the anticlimactical bridge and plunged deeply into the most chaotic hell parts, which happened to be a symmetricallly shaped long hall... There were then some corridors in various directions which by all means were a little different in size and shape but honestly I had expected it to be slightly more deserving of the name "Chaos Sanctuary". There were dozens of nasty demons and dumb knights guarding it, commanded by oblivious knights. After we had crushed them all there was a loud rumbling of the earth and we braced ourselves to face the evil fallen Amazons but instead came a gigantic red demon with spikes and claws! It was horrible and I was overcome with dread thinking that surely every hireling would be doomed when this monster appears.
Maltatai: She does have a point. The Lord of Terror is quite the terror for hirelings facing him the first time.
Floria: Törnrosa shouted that I should roll to the side which I did, sort of. There was a rock on the floor and I tripped over it. When I got up I saw the huge red thind slashing with his claws at Törnrosa but she just stood there and blocked and stabbed back with lightning flashing out from her spear point. Petronella had been unsummoned at the moment when the demons fire burned away her connection. Törnrosa didn't seem to need her help though. It was so incredible. I first thought that I should take cover behind the stone and snipe at the demon but then I remembered that 1: the stone was too small, 2: the demon was so large it could see over it anyway and 3: that the stone wouldn't protect against the fire and the lightning red breath that it breathed out. But none of it could make Törnrosa flinch. We just returned to the Pandemonium Fortress once to restock the supply of potions but even that went well because she charged right at the demon when we got back and occupied all its attention.
It took many minutes and the she managed to hit the red stone on its forehead. Then there was such a flash that I had to turn my head away. It seemed to short-circuit the creature because it underwent some sort of special light effect and then collapsed in a collapsed husk kind of way. I mean the flash and stone-hitting, not me turning away from it. But that would have been useful, making adversaries dissapear just by turning away from them. Just like when politicians try to solve all problems too complicated to be summed up in a one sentence debate slogan...
Hell has been very scary but I think I will be safe. I have the best employer ever to hide behind if that should be necessary. Stay safe you too, journal and remember to call for the garlic mustard if that time comes.
________________________________________________________________________
Maltatai: Askungen will now continue her tale which ended with her going to hell and now begins with telling her mercenary hireling to go to hell.
Askungen: You would have done the same I assure you! Scorch was just a big piece of pesticides! He would have us all burn down the jungle completely even now after Mephisto was gone and the nature could return to normal. He is an industrial idiot and a pollution plant propaganda pain in the worlds *** (which is Kurast the spider filled place)!
Maltatai: Totally unacceptable I understand.
Askungen: So instead I hired the cold mage Vanji. I thought he would be more balanced and calm and also be effective against the hellish minions of hell.
Maltatai: And was he?
Askungen: Quite effective but not a vast improvement as travelling company. He was as cold as the spells he fling! Like NO sense of compassion for the environment and all the innocent creatures being slain at the hands of invading demons and corrupted churchgoers!
Just as an example, I had acquired a nice acrobatic amulet and wanted to try it out. So I dropped my weapons and sprinted along the ground in the yard of the Pandemonium Fortress. The idea was to jump and do a spectacular spinning series of ways to fly through the air but I made a minor miscalculations so it didn't work as intended.
Maltatai: What is the meaning of "minor miscalculation"?
Askungen: I didn't count with Jamellas bookstore being right where it was. It really got in the way.
Maltatai: Naughty, naughty bookstore roofs. You can't trust any of them these days it seems.
Askungen: ...
Maltatai: Please continue. I hope Jamella wasn't angry.
Askungen: No, she actually healed me from the hurting head and the sprained ankle I got. But then, that's sort of her thing. She's very patient. I wonder if she even can get angry. But then Vanji just sneered and scoffed and said "I know that that's your idea of agility but until you acquire more balance than a disfiguered cow wielding an overgrown halberd I suggest you keep your clumsy feet on the ground". I was so baffled and embarrased that I couldn't think of any answer and just headed right for the doorway out.
Maltatai: That was really rude. Even if such an amulet is primarily useful for dodging on ground leve it is no reason to press the point in the manner of a television singing contest show judge.
Askungen: Quite right...what?
Maltatai: Ah, just something that should never have been spawned from the dark abysses. Every world has its share. Imagine the butcher, the smith and Andariel sitting behind a desk spitting out snide remarks about performing peoples performances all day. Utter crap as entertainment and utterly useless.
Askungen: Speaking of smiths, I met one at the hellforge - who would have thought! - and he had the aura of a town guard of Lut Gholein that has travelled too long with an icy main character. Odd, isn't it?
Maltatai: Perhaps it was an elaborate plot to entice unrest by pitting javazons and bowazons against each other?
Askungen: You think so?
Maltatai: ...
Askungen: Of course! I can see it now! Thanks Maltatai, that really explains it all!
Maltatai: Not that I mind such words from a protagonist (has it ever happened before?) but what explains what?
Askungen: It is all a plot to create mistrust in our grassroot community. And that's why Diablo dropped such worthless junk, mostly.
Maltatai: That was sort of a joke...hrm, nevermind, what did Diablo drop? But maybe you should start from the beginning of the hellish adventures.
Askungen: Fine, fine. "Ahem". Once upon a time there lived a hard-working red devil in a harmoniously chaotic sanctuary. The devil had just gotten home and was strething his legs on the sofa on the lower floor that was accesible only through the star shaped lift in the middle of the entrance and ballroom hall. It had been a long lifetimes-long exile in Sanctuary but now it was finally over and just the paperwork remained. But that could wait until the next monday. The news hellevision programme was filled with useless junk news stories, like that of the Bverrit Keep shield being lost to invaders, as if anyone cared about it. The devil yawned and went to bed.
The next morning a lesser demon barged in right after the breakfast and disturbed the moment with excessively more disturbing news. The Hellforge itself had been breached and the culprits had gotten away with smashing his brothers soulstone, yielding an outrageously useful and stylish drop of gems. With a sigh, the red devil summoned his three top captains of disturbing demon packs to stand by to defend the lift operating seals should the chaos spread to the Chaos Sanctuary, a not totally insane idea. The midday passed with little in the way of new events and entertaiment except the security gargoyles going black one by one. The red devil was just about to call for Lord de Seis and ask what the the current location was going on when the lift activated. With a huge sigh the red devil inhaled a lot of poisoned air to fuel his lightning breath of hideous hireling-slaying.
Before him danced a green Amazon between the firestorms while hurling great spears with a cloud of spinach smoke trailing them. Being hit by them was like downing a mouthful of vegetable goo every second. The red devil charged ahead furiously as the Amazon took cover in one of the passages that were somewhat too small to walk in comfortably. Then she came forth again and hurled a new spear. The annoying tactic repeated itself until the red devil cunningly retreated away and forced the antagonist out. The he suddenly switched to targeting the sneering and snorting cold mage dressed in red who fell in half a second, being half the man as the melee hireling, the red devil thought.
When he looked around, the Amazon was gone through a portal. She probably went to restock potion supplies, the red devil thought. If she beats me, unlikely as it is, I still want some measure of revenge. I will take the time to pick up those spare bows and crossbows I have stored and also take a set of weak and useless spears as a further mockery. Then the evil stepsisters that the javelin using Amazon no doubt has will taunt her because she isn't using bows like them. BwahaHAHAHAHAAAHAHA!
True enough, when the Amazon returned along with the undeserving hired mage she had still gracefully had ressurected by the outrageously expensive angel she found the most insulting drop imaginable when she had tanked the red devil and kept him occupied so that her minions were safer and thus bested him.
Maltatai: So you received two excptional rares from normal Diablo, which is quite extraordinary...and they both turned out to be bows. Let's hope Rödluvan and Snövit don't find out about this.
Snövit: Find out about what?
Askungen: Nothing, nothing, just, uh, the embarrasing state of Maltatais grammar and such. Boring and uninteresting. Move along, move along... Maltatai you fool! This is your fault!
Maltatai: What?
Askungen: Don't you know that as soon as you wish strongly enough, especially when you speak it out loud, that someone won't find out about something, they inevitably do!
Maltatai: That's absurd.
Askungen: It still always happen! Here, I'll prove it to you!
Maltatai: Wait, isn't it...
Askungen: Snövit, tell me, are you aware of the fact that Diablo had the enormously bad taste of dropping the outrageous sum of three bows, two of the exceptional, while only one minor javelin, when I destroyed him?
Snövit: Not until you told me right now, no.
Askungen: There you see...WHAT?!
Maltatai: I actually tried to caution you about just telling anyone about that just to prove the point...
Askungen: Still, I proved to be right.
Maltatai: WHAT?!
Askungen: You wished out loud that Snövit or Rödluvan would not find out about Diablos insulting bow drop and now Snövit is aware of it. Point proven.
Maltatai: But that was because you told her about it!
Askungen: Still proves the point. You wished out loud and shortly after she knows.
Maltatai: Causative links, anyone?! This is the absurdest...over and out!
Snövit: So Diablo actually gave you no less than three times as much rare bows as javelins? And the majority of them one category better also? THIS sounds like an interesting story, just let me fetch Rödluvan so we can hear it too...
Episode 7. IP Adress
Maltatai: In an efforst to appear more literary and stylish Askungen has requested to have her notes retold from a third person view. This to ensure a thrilled audience and annoyingly (for themselves) uninterrupting bowazons.
Askungen the Amazon aimed and hurled the throwing spear with perfect balance. It flew in a straight line right at the designated target that approached from behind a frozen rock. The fact that all javeling throws in the world were equally balanced and flawless did nothing to diminish the impressiveness of her skill. Her spear evaporated a terrible cloud that smelled suspiciously of spinach. The approaching mob of grinning demon coughed and fainted, green with nausea from the nearly completed poison javelin ability. With a terrifying battlecry the eager hired tour guide Ip rushed upon the falling minions of evil...opposition at least. An unbeatable valkyrie soon followed with a serene smile as she skewered the little devils in a most peaceful way.
Askungen viewed her valkyrie with a satisfied smile. She was summoned from her rune-imbued breastplate that resided in the cube in her invisible backpack. As the first Amazon of all to reach such a level of inner peace and personal development as was required to obtain the plate so early, even before any nightmarish world cataclysm, she felt qualified to deliver a smug smile to any bow-wielding kin they may come by.
Askungen: What is this?! I wanted something serious and epically dramatic!
Maltatai: And then of all possible candidates to tell the story you choose...
Askungen: Aaargh! Alright. But more seriousness from now on!
Maltatai: New chapter then.
Ip stepped through the glowing portal and onto the travelling ground of Harrogath. The familiar feeling of home and safety warmed him even as foul scents of burning wood and rotting demons drifted in from the Bloody Foothills outside the town. He looked ahead to watch the ever eager islander sprinting ahead to broker a new deal with Larzuk about the latest pile of loot taken from. Such an odd character in these lands and with such unusual ways. She fought like no northlander even came close to resembling with her spears that left a trail of stinking clouds, hurling them and darting away and around until the foe fell to the ground. It was monstrously effective over time.
The islander woman had come to Harrogath through mysterious means to say the least, given that the town was under siege and surrounded, but none could dispute her effectiveness as her little war band battled their way to Shenk himself. Ip had attempted the same but to his shame he had been overpowered and captured. It was a painful memory and one that he should not allow himself to forget. A northlander did not shy away from pain and hardship.
Shenks minions had tossed him into a crude pen along with a handful of other unfortunate comrades. There were so little to say about so many hours. Cold dirt, cold winds and leering imps shouting insults as the only entertainment day after day living on the smelly meat tossed inside that had probably seen better days.
It began with a rustling in the groups of surrounding demons. They looked south and then around, unsure of what was going on. Sharptooth, the jailer, crashed through a once barricaded doorway and began shouting something and pointing frantically with his whip. Something was amiss. One of the pens had been breached. Imps teleported in a blink and their plated mounts made the ground shake when they rushed past. An eerie green light rose slowly above the closest palisade and the smell that drifted towards the prisoners defied description. More demons gathered close to the fence when the nearby barred door exploded and an obscure figure burst through. There was a rushing sound and a flash of green light. Someone cried "Spenada Kedavra!" in a mockingly dramatic voice followed by the sound of someone else hitting an obnoxious mage that had made that comment. The Barbarians looked around uneasily. All demons had perished and the dark figure approached. It was now clear that it was the Green Lady herself and her foul followers, the Spinach Eaters!
The lady-who-must-not-be-blamed raised her spear triumphantly. From it's tip flew a jet of green cloudy light that formed into something. The green mark! It was...
Askungen: THAT IS IT! Straighten this up at once Maltatai!
Rödluvan: Hihihihihahaha!
Maltatai: Ahem, we return to the portal then. The pathetic little imp H...
Askungen: "Shoots stern glare at Maltatai"
Maltatai: ...Hobby...was in fact not pathetic at all and managed to escape the battles between imps and adventurers and lived happily ever after in a burrow made out of a large hollow tree trunk lying in a sandy mound in a peaceful part of Sanctuary far away from here. The slimy imp Harry did on the other hand teleport from his lookout place to the entrance to the ice caves where Thresh Socket was waiting with the imp-erial cave entrance guard. He reported as soon as he had arrived: "The prison cages have fallen. Sharptooth is dead. They are coming.".
Askungen: MALTATAI!
Rödluvan: Mwaaahahahaha!
Snövit: Zzzzz...hm.
Rödluvan: Wake up. It wasn't that boring.
Snövit: Yaaawn...hm...it was very rude to end the storytelling just like that. What happened next? I mean after the invaders were coming? No storyteller should ever be allowed to finish abruptly like that.
Askungen: I can't believe how silly some people are. Imagine not even being able to tell a whole chapter before breaking apart in a cacophony of rebellious parody. Clearly Maltatai is the weed in the garden of the grassroot community.
Snövit: But what happened next, then?
Askungen: I, well, I managed to rescue the trapped Barbarians and decided to hire one as my hireling. That's pretty much it.
Rödluvan: Nonsense! Details! What's he like? What's his name? Does it work well with a melee hireling or is he daft like a town guard?
Askungen: Uhm, well, no actually. He's called Ip, which even Maltatai managed to remember to tell, and he is really quite...wonderful. He's very eager but not stupid like a town guard and follows quickly if we need to retreat. But he doesn't do bad in melee either, bashing and stunning our enemies so they can't retaliate as much. It's really quite a good complement to my poisoned javelins.
Rödluvan: I see...but what about the personality? Cold and condescending as the cold weather? Perhaps intolerant and ignorant as the archetypical small town Barbaric countryside stereotype? Or maybe brash and cocky self-styled teamleader?
Askungen: No! He's nothing like that! Ip's really tolerant...except towards demon armies laying waste to his home but I think that's understandable...and he LISTENS. He didn't interrupt me at any point when I explained about democratic meeting summoning procedure.
Rödluvan: Oh, really?
Askungen: Yes! And he really cares about ecological balance and all because the northlanders live on mostly barren wasteland with little resources so they must stay in touch with nature and not destroy anything needlessly and know all about plants and herbs that grow there! Not anything like some stupid mage who wants to burn down the forests or ignorant town guard that hasn't heard of the spider danger.
Rödluvan: Those, yes. It must be such a relief to be able to cower behind a steady and well-muscled back of a dear companion, isn't it?
Askungen: Well...yes... But the correct term is hireling or mercenary.
Maltatai: You are aware that Rödluvan is only attempting to bait you to reveal as much as possible about how you think and feel about Ip by feigning ignorance on the subject and asking provocative questions?
Askungen: What? No, she wouldn't... would she?
Rödluvan: Maltatai, you are a horrible human being. I shall also now prove you wrong. Askungen, would it please you to kindly relay the various monster slaying quests and adventures that you and your adventuring party members may have undertaken after you hired the northlander Ip as your mercenary?
Askungen: Of course. First we rescued Anya, the daughter of the eldest wise guys, from the icy caves where she had been held prisoner.
Snövit and Rödluvan: I know! Those are so nice, arent they? You can shoot in all directions and use your leeching to pinpoint where the enemy is and then take them out from afar and...
Telash: "echoes from far away" Get on with it!
Askungen: Actually, that was no viable tactic at all. Poison javelin has a cast delay and I also have far too few spears to waste any on scouting. Additionally, my chances to hit things are not impressively high but I'm working on my inner sight to fix that. A better tactic is to find a narrow passage where my side can hold antagonists for a while and I hurl spinach at their reinforcing ranks.
Anya, in any case, had been imprisoned by the dictatorial Nihlatak. He usurped the position of minister of foreign affairs most unjustly, with no informing of the rest of the Harrogath government, which may be understandable since they were all dead, but also without any kind of consent from the constituents! Obviously that was quite unacceptable and we paid the jerk an impolite visit which ended with us appointing him permanent ambassador of Harrogath in the Burning Hells, starting immediately.
Unfortunately, the popular assembly of the town was overruled by some sort of Security Council of Grumpy Old Men. They summoned my party to a summit meeting where they expected us to answer for our outrageous acts of disobedience. I was however equally outraged by the lack of respect for proper procedure. How hard can it be to write a proper summoning with all the relevant background and list the points you wish to discuss? And if it is too hard, how impossible can it be to get a necromancer summoner to do it for you as a consultant? It's not like summoners are not the most common subcategory of that lot.
But no, nothing of that had any importance because us younger people don't matter as much and we are just incompetent and lazy and everything was better and more impressive and respectable in their days bla bla bla! To hell with them! Give our regards to Nihlatak. Ip was even so mad at Korlic for berating me that he grabbed said ancient by his collar and threw him into the altar at one point!
After that we thought, understandably, that we would have a bit of peace.
Maltatai: Which you had. An armour piece, to be precise. A breast plate to be even more precise.
Askungen: I meant piece and quiet as a setting and general way of things! Serenity!
Maltatai: I think your valkyrie could help with that. She seems quite peaceful. Isn't it time to introduce her by the way?
Askungen: I would if some people could just shut it and not interrupt me all the time. Her name is Kaylee in any case. She is summoned from some sort of divine firefly skyship vessel thing that Athulua had built as an experimental unit long ago. It is crewed by valkyries and emits northern light when it flies across the skies. Kaylee does in any case handle the propulsion which is somehow magically powered, I think. She is very kind and endearing and says really funny things sometimes. Also fond of finding new outfits so she appears in different armours most times when summoned.
And as I said before the cascade of interruptions washed over us we expected some peace and quiet but Baal the disfigured crab mutant willed otherwise and reached out with lightning attacks and poison cloud attacks whenever we stood still too long in one spot. The poison clouds were amateurish at best but still! What an insult and satirising parody of the grassroot community!
Down we went to root up that weed and send it back to the Hellish pile of fertilizer ot once sprung forth from! We battered our way through the Worldstone Keep until we stood before the leering demon at the basement. Then he summoned foreign monsters in waves. Among those were the cursed and cursing Achmel whose army fell to a single plague javelin and who himself was cursed by me after Baal had cursed us for standing too close to his cursed minon and shouting a curse at him. Ip hacked him apart piece by piece. The biggest monsters were annoyingly resistant but luckily I had the melee party members for the job anyway.
The battle against Baal himself began oddly. I threw poison javelins at him and retreated to the other side of the Worldstone Chamber. It was relatively safe but so sloooow. It was as if someone had manipulated the world to make it take eight times as long as it should!
Maltatai:
Askungen: Baal was quite dangerous. He cloned frequently and struck very hard. Kaylee could stand against that kind of without too much trouble but even with the aid of a wand of life tap Ip was almost slain dozens of times. Still he never wavered and never ceased shielding me as best as could be done...why are you suddenly smiling like that Rödluvan?
After the lord of destruction had fallen this silly angel appeared again. I was startled when he appeared right behind me and whirled about and threw a javelin before I had time to see who it was. The angel said that the worldstone had been corrupted by Baals touch and we all were too late. He was most unclear when it came to the exact nature of how Baal had blocked him from coming into the place earlier and actually do some substantial helping. But he promised to throw his sword into the worldstone and destroy it to prevent further corruption. I nodded to him and left.
Rödluvan: "facepalm"
Snövit: "facepalm"
Rödluvan: Alright, maybe it will work out still... But NOW it would be really interesting to meet this fabulous mercenary of yours!
Askungen: What, now? Can't that wait a bit? I probably don't look too presentable enough sufficiently...
Maltatai: What's the matter Askungen? You travelled and slew monsters together for almost a whole Act before. You should know how to recognize each other by now.
Askungen: Yes but that's not the same thing! When you murder monsters all the time you are supposed to look bloody and sweaty and dirty because it's part of the job and you never really look closely at each other because you are always watching for new ambushes and stray boss packs. You just never really look at each other in THAT way.
Maltatai: Previously described observations regarding said northlander mercenary suggest otherwise. Unless of course master Ip would be gifted with a striking lack of perception hitherto deemed unthinkable given the information divulged about him?
Askungen: Of course not! Oh dear...I must have looked terrible!
Maltatai: I'm sure you did not...except to the enemies of course.
Askungen: Let's just go and do something else for the moment...I just remembered I have some material maintenance to do...oh no, is this rust stains!? And the boots...
Rödluvan:
I can see what's happening.
Askungen: What?
Rödluvan:
And she don't have a clue.
Askungen: Who?
Rödluvan:
She'll fall in love and here's the bottom line: the trio's down to two.
The casual talks as allies
The sweet camaraderie
And with all this successful atmosphere
Disaster's in the air
Can you feel the smell tonight?
The scent that spinach brings
The veggie soup, in perfect harmony
With all it's greeny things
Askungen:
So many things to tell him
But oh, dear, look at me
To go ahead like this? Impossible!
He'd turn away from me
Rödluvan:
She's holding back, she's hiding
Unable to decide
Why won't she be the dame I know she is
The dame I see inside?
Can you feel the scent tonight?
The peace the evening brings
The salad and, the fruit and berry drinks
With all nutritious things
Can you see yourself tonight?
You really look alright
Why must you part, just 'cause the job is done?
Just go and grab your (k)night!
And if they fall in love tonight
It can be assumed
That one might just happen to overhear...
Their privacy is doomed
Maltatai: By the name of the leaf and the conifer cone! This is "The Misadventures of Two Untwinked Javazons", not some confused soap opera! "Sigh", here we go: will Askungen dare tell Ip how she feels? How will he react? What is the other team doing meanwhile? Has Tyrael really managed to hit the stone this time? Does Kaylee have any memorable well wishes for Askungen beginning with "Have good..."? Look for the answers in the next episode.
And NO, the name will not be changed to "Valkwatch" or "Spearverly Hills" or "Foes" or "Javazon: Blood and Spinach". Seriously, what a silly thought. Over and out.
Askungen the Amazon aimed and hurled the throwing spear with perfect balance. It flew in a straight line right at the designated target that approached from behind a frozen rock. The fact that all javeling throws in the world were equally balanced and flawless did nothing to diminish the impressiveness of her skill. Her spear evaporated a terrible cloud that smelled suspiciously of spinach. The approaching mob of grinning demon coughed and fainted, green with nausea from the nearly completed poison javelin ability. With a terrifying battlecry the eager hired tour guide Ip rushed upon the falling minions of evil...opposition at least. An unbeatable valkyrie soon followed with a serene smile as she skewered the little devils in a most peaceful way.
Askungen viewed her valkyrie with a satisfied smile. She was summoned from her rune-imbued breastplate that resided in the cube in her invisible backpack. As the first Amazon of all to reach such a level of inner peace and personal development as was required to obtain the plate so early, even before any nightmarish world cataclysm, she felt qualified to deliver a smug smile to any bow-wielding kin they may come by.
Askungen: What is this?! I wanted something serious and epically dramatic!
Maltatai: And then of all possible candidates to tell the story you choose...
Askungen: Aaargh! Alright. But more seriousness from now on!
Maltatai: New chapter then.
Ip stepped through the glowing portal and onto the travelling ground of Harrogath. The familiar feeling of home and safety warmed him even as foul scents of burning wood and rotting demons drifted in from the Bloody Foothills outside the town. He looked ahead to watch the ever eager islander sprinting ahead to broker a new deal with Larzuk about the latest pile of loot taken from. Such an odd character in these lands and with such unusual ways. She fought like no northlander even came close to resembling with her spears that left a trail of stinking clouds, hurling them and darting away and around until the foe fell to the ground. It was monstrously effective over time.
The islander woman had come to Harrogath through mysterious means to say the least, given that the town was under siege and surrounded, but none could dispute her effectiveness as her little war band battled their way to Shenk himself. Ip had attempted the same but to his shame he had been overpowered and captured. It was a painful memory and one that he should not allow himself to forget. A northlander did not shy away from pain and hardship.
Shenks minions had tossed him into a crude pen along with a handful of other unfortunate comrades. There were so little to say about so many hours. Cold dirt, cold winds and leering imps shouting insults as the only entertainment day after day living on the smelly meat tossed inside that had probably seen better days.
It began with a rustling in the groups of surrounding demons. They looked south and then around, unsure of what was going on. Sharptooth, the jailer, crashed through a once barricaded doorway and began shouting something and pointing frantically with his whip. Something was amiss. One of the pens had been breached. Imps teleported in a blink and their plated mounts made the ground shake when they rushed past. An eerie green light rose slowly above the closest palisade and the smell that drifted towards the prisoners defied description. More demons gathered close to the fence when the nearby barred door exploded and an obscure figure burst through. There was a rushing sound and a flash of green light. Someone cried "Spenada Kedavra!" in a mockingly dramatic voice followed by the sound of someone else hitting an obnoxious mage that had made that comment. The Barbarians looked around uneasily. All demons had perished and the dark figure approached. It was now clear that it was the Green Lady herself and her foul followers, the Spinach Eaters!
The lady-who-must-not-be-blamed raised her spear triumphantly. From it's tip flew a jet of green cloudy light that formed into something. The green mark! It was...
Askungen: THAT IS IT! Straighten this up at once Maltatai!
Rödluvan: Hihihihihahaha!
Maltatai: Ahem, we return to the portal then. The pathetic little imp H...
Askungen: "Shoots stern glare at Maltatai"
Maltatai: ...Hobby...was in fact not pathetic at all and managed to escape the battles between imps and adventurers and lived happily ever after in a burrow made out of a large hollow tree trunk lying in a sandy mound in a peaceful part of Sanctuary far away from here. The slimy imp Harry did on the other hand teleport from his lookout place to the entrance to the ice caves where Thresh Socket was waiting with the imp-erial cave entrance guard. He reported as soon as he had arrived: "The prison cages have fallen. Sharptooth is dead. They are coming.".
Askungen: MALTATAI!
Rödluvan: Mwaaahahahaha!
Snövit: Zzzzz...hm.
Rödluvan: Wake up. It wasn't that boring.
Snövit: Yaaawn...hm...it was very rude to end the storytelling just like that. What happened next? I mean after the invaders were coming? No storyteller should ever be allowed to finish abruptly like that.
Askungen: I can't believe how silly some people are. Imagine not even being able to tell a whole chapter before breaking apart in a cacophony of rebellious parody. Clearly Maltatai is the weed in the garden of the grassroot community.
Snövit: But what happened next, then?
Askungen: I, well, I managed to rescue the trapped Barbarians and decided to hire one as my hireling. That's pretty much it.
Rödluvan: Nonsense! Details! What's he like? What's his name? Does it work well with a melee hireling or is he daft like a town guard?
Askungen: Uhm, well, no actually. He's called Ip, which even Maltatai managed to remember to tell, and he is really quite...wonderful. He's very eager but not stupid like a town guard and follows quickly if we need to retreat. But he doesn't do bad in melee either, bashing and stunning our enemies so they can't retaliate as much. It's really quite a good complement to my poisoned javelins.
Rödluvan: I see...but what about the personality? Cold and condescending as the cold weather? Perhaps intolerant and ignorant as the archetypical small town Barbaric countryside stereotype? Or maybe brash and cocky self-styled teamleader?
Askungen: No! He's nothing like that! Ip's really tolerant...except towards demon armies laying waste to his home but I think that's understandable...and he LISTENS. He didn't interrupt me at any point when I explained about democratic meeting summoning procedure.
Rödluvan: Oh, really?
Askungen: Yes! And he really cares about ecological balance and all because the northlanders live on mostly barren wasteland with little resources so they must stay in touch with nature and not destroy anything needlessly and know all about plants and herbs that grow there! Not anything like some stupid mage who wants to burn down the forests or ignorant town guard that hasn't heard of the spider danger.
Rödluvan: Those, yes. It must be such a relief to be able to cower behind a steady and well-muscled back of a dear companion, isn't it?
Askungen: Well...yes... But the correct term is hireling or mercenary.
Maltatai: You are aware that Rödluvan is only attempting to bait you to reveal as much as possible about how you think and feel about Ip by feigning ignorance on the subject and asking provocative questions?
Askungen: What? No, she wouldn't... would she?
Rödluvan: Maltatai, you are a horrible human being. I shall also now prove you wrong. Askungen, would it please you to kindly relay the various monster slaying quests and adventures that you and your adventuring party members may have undertaken after you hired the northlander Ip as your mercenary?
Askungen: Of course. First we rescued Anya, the daughter of the eldest wise guys, from the icy caves where she had been held prisoner.
Snövit and Rödluvan: I know! Those are so nice, arent they? You can shoot in all directions and use your leeching to pinpoint where the enemy is and then take them out from afar and...
Telash: "echoes from far away" Get on with it!
Askungen: Actually, that was no viable tactic at all. Poison javelin has a cast delay and I also have far too few spears to waste any on scouting. Additionally, my chances to hit things are not impressively high but I'm working on my inner sight to fix that. A better tactic is to find a narrow passage where my side can hold antagonists for a while and I hurl spinach at their reinforcing ranks.
Anya, in any case, had been imprisoned by the dictatorial Nihlatak. He usurped the position of minister of foreign affairs most unjustly, with no informing of the rest of the Harrogath government, which may be understandable since they were all dead, but also without any kind of consent from the constituents! Obviously that was quite unacceptable and we paid the jerk an impolite visit which ended with us appointing him permanent ambassador of Harrogath in the Burning Hells, starting immediately.
Unfortunately, the popular assembly of the town was overruled by some sort of Security Council of Grumpy Old Men. They summoned my party to a summit meeting where they expected us to answer for our outrageous acts of disobedience. I was however equally outraged by the lack of respect for proper procedure. How hard can it be to write a proper summoning with all the relevant background and list the points you wish to discuss? And if it is too hard, how impossible can it be to get a necromancer summoner to do it for you as a consultant? It's not like summoners are not the most common subcategory of that lot.
But no, nothing of that had any importance because us younger people don't matter as much and we are just incompetent and lazy and everything was better and more impressive and respectable in their days bla bla bla! To hell with them! Give our regards to Nihlatak. Ip was even so mad at Korlic for berating me that he grabbed said ancient by his collar and threw him into the altar at one point!
After that we thought, understandably, that we would have a bit of peace.
Maltatai: Which you had. An armour piece, to be precise. A breast plate to be even more precise.
Askungen: I meant piece and quiet as a setting and general way of things! Serenity!
Maltatai: I think your valkyrie could help with that. She seems quite peaceful. Isn't it time to introduce her by the way?
Askungen: I would if some people could just shut it and not interrupt me all the time. Her name is Kaylee in any case. She is summoned from some sort of divine firefly skyship vessel thing that Athulua had built as an experimental unit long ago. It is crewed by valkyries and emits northern light when it flies across the skies. Kaylee does in any case handle the propulsion which is somehow magically powered, I think. She is very kind and endearing and says really funny things sometimes. Also fond of finding new outfits so she appears in different armours most times when summoned.
And as I said before the cascade of interruptions washed over us we expected some peace and quiet but Baal the disfigured crab mutant willed otherwise and reached out with lightning attacks and poison cloud attacks whenever we stood still too long in one spot. The poison clouds were amateurish at best but still! What an insult and satirising parody of the grassroot community!
Down we went to root up that weed and send it back to the Hellish pile of fertilizer ot once sprung forth from! We battered our way through the Worldstone Keep until we stood before the leering demon at the basement. Then he summoned foreign monsters in waves. Among those were the cursed and cursing Achmel whose army fell to a single plague javelin and who himself was cursed by me after Baal had cursed us for standing too close to his cursed minon and shouting a curse at him. Ip hacked him apart piece by piece. The biggest monsters were annoyingly resistant but luckily I had the melee party members for the job anyway.
The battle against Baal himself began oddly. I threw poison javelins at him and retreated to the other side of the Worldstone Chamber. It was relatively safe but so sloooow. It was as if someone had manipulated the world to make it take eight times as long as it should!
Maltatai:
Askungen: Baal was quite dangerous. He cloned frequently and struck very hard. Kaylee could stand against that kind of without too much trouble but even with the aid of a wand of life tap Ip was almost slain dozens of times. Still he never wavered and never ceased shielding me as best as could be done...why are you suddenly smiling like that Rödluvan?
After the lord of destruction had fallen this silly angel appeared again. I was startled when he appeared right behind me and whirled about and threw a javelin before I had time to see who it was. The angel said that the worldstone had been corrupted by Baals touch and we all were too late. He was most unclear when it came to the exact nature of how Baal had blocked him from coming into the place earlier and actually do some substantial helping. But he promised to throw his sword into the worldstone and destroy it to prevent further corruption. I nodded to him and left.
Rödluvan: "facepalm"
Snövit: "facepalm"
Rödluvan: Alright, maybe it will work out still... But NOW it would be really interesting to meet this fabulous mercenary of yours!
Askungen: What, now? Can't that wait a bit? I probably don't look too presentable enough sufficiently...
Maltatai: What's the matter Askungen? You travelled and slew monsters together for almost a whole Act before. You should know how to recognize each other by now.
Askungen: Yes but that's not the same thing! When you murder monsters all the time you are supposed to look bloody and sweaty and dirty because it's part of the job and you never really look closely at each other because you are always watching for new ambushes and stray boss packs. You just never really look at each other in THAT way.
Maltatai: Previously described observations regarding said northlander mercenary suggest otherwise. Unless of course master Ip would be gifted with a striking lack of perception hitherto deemed unthinkable given the information divulged about him?
Askungen: Of course not! Oh dear...I must have looked terrible!
Maltatai: I'm sure you did not...except to the enemies of course.
Askungen: Let's just go and do something else for the moment...I just remembered I have some material maintenance to do...oh no, is this rust stains!? And the boots...
Rödluvan:
I can see what's happening.
Askungen: What?
Rödluvan:
And she don't have a clue.
Askungen: Who?
Rödluvan:
She'll fall in love and here's the bottom line: the trio's down to two.
The casual talks as allies
The sweet camaraderie
And with all this successful atmosphere
Disaster's in the air
Can you feel the smell tonight?
The scent that spinach brings
The veggie soup, in perfect harmony
With all it's greeny things
Askungen:
So many things to tell him
But oh, dear, look at me
To go ahead like this? Impossible!
He'd turn away from me
Rödluvan:
She's holding back, she's hiding
Unable to decide
Why won't she be the dame I know she is
The dame I see inside?
Can you feel the scent tonight?
The peace the evening brings
The salad and, the fruit and berry drinks
With all nutritious things
Can you see yourself tonight?
You really look alright
Why must you part, just 'cause the job is done?
Just go and grab your (k)night!
And if they fall in love tonight
It can be assumed
That one might just happen to overhear...
Their privacy is doomed
Maltatai: By the name of the leaf and the conifer cone! This is "The Misadventures of Two Untwinked Javazons", not some confused soap opera! "Sigh", here we go: will Askungen dare tell Ip how she feels? How will he react? What is the other team doing meanwhile? Has Tyrael really managed to hit the stone this time? Does Kaylee have any memorable well wishes for Askungen beginning with "Have good..."? Look for the answers in the next episode.
And NO, the name will not be changed to "Valkwatch" or "Spearverly Hills" or "Foes" or "Javazon: Blood and Spinach". Seriously, what a silly thought. Over and out.
Episode 8. The Grand Design
Törnrosa: Just look at them! Utterly distasteful. Such a blatant lack och dignity and class.
Floria: I don't know... I thought that fish soup smelled nice.
Törnrosa: What?
Floria: The fish stew that the blue swashbuckler guy made. It smells nice. I'm hungry.
Törnrosa: You can't be serious. Nobody likes fish stew or fish soup. It is the epitome of nutritious but awful healthy food that nobody would eat if they had a choice. Fit for the smallfolk maybe...
Floria: No, it's garlic mustard that is the worst food ever.
Törnrosa: Is that even a real thing?
Floria: Of course it is! I have it from reliable, uh, sources.
Törnrosa: "looks sceptically at Floria"
Petronella: Why are we here debating the local cuisine from a hidden spot, again?
Törnrosa: How would it be if you listened the first time I explain something for a change?
Petronella: Boring.
Törnrosa: Be quiet. As you perhaps noticed if you were not too absent-minded at the moment, the fallen Amazon and her party managed to escape from hell despite my...our noble efforts. We traced her to the Barbarian highlands where she would certainly fit in by the way. Bullheaded like the likeminded petty grassroot delegates.
Petronella: Because all Barbarians are skirmishers relying on magical damage delivered from a range.
Törnrosa: Because she must be a smelly witless mongrel just like they are!
Floria: I wonder one thing about the northerners. They have these endless legions of incompetent melee fighters wandering aimlessly through the Bloody Foothills. Shouldn't they run out of troops pretty soon?
Törnrosa: No, they are resurrected at once. You see, there are not terribly many warriors guarding Harrogath, you just see the same coming out over and over again and dying just as quickly. But I totally agree that it's hard to tell them apart. If you've seen one Barbarian you've seen them all.
Floria: Still don't mind seeing them.
Petronella. I just thought of something. You who are so good with flaming arrows could maybe try to secretly fire a few of those at the ground right behind one of them if we ever go there again.
Floria: Why on earth would I do that?
Petronella: Because then the air would warm and maybe, just maybe, it would be a like a warm stream of air rising like out of some hot air vent and be enough to blow their kilt up...
Törnrosa: Enough! Will you stop giggling! Thank you. As I was saying the Barbarians are resurrected always, allowing them to serve as a steady stream of catapult fodder.
Floria: But how is that possible?
Törnrosa: They are all minions. The entire garrison of Harrogath is hired by Qual-Kehk who is their main character.
Floria: But that doesn't work. He never leaves the town and you can only have one hireling as a magically bonded adventurer. Besides, where would he get the gold to resurrect them all?
Törnrosa: The Worldstone. It's special power is allowing one Barbarian to have an infinite number of minions and hirelings and also allows those to operate outside the town even if the main character - Qual-Kehk - is inside. That is the mighty power that made it so sought after. As for the gold, well, towns have infinite gold. Being in a monopolist position and having control of all the coining in the land it's pretty much a townspersons market. Luckily they lack any sense of business so someone with a little enlightment can capitalize on that by dumping pile after pile of useless monster loot on them.
Florian: I thought the loot seemed somewhat useful. At least the return of that dirk was funny...
Törnrosa: In any case we battled through hordes of terrifying and troubling demons and fierce creatures...
Petronella: Like the great snake of the northlands, tsk, tsk, heeehehehe...
Törnrosa: How was I supposed to know that old oaf was not meaning it literally?! Snakes are nothing you should be taking lightly!
Petronella: For starters, you could try to listen to people, and I mean really listen to them and not just hear them talking while you plot a new insidious plan for how you will ensnare them in a tangled web of all-controlling influence. And if you are unsure, not to mention worried, or maybe even afraid, or perhaps outright terrified to the point of being startled by the mere hissing that common usage of the letter "s" produces, there is this thing called asking for a clarification.
Törnrosa: After his rotting halls we competently smote the legions of the damned on our way to the Holy Summit itself. It was lacklustre enough, though. I still think we must have taken the wrong turn somewhere or something and stumbled into a some retirement resort for the elderly barbarians. That's probably how we missed the greensickening team!
Floria: I still think those were supposed to be the ancients.
Törnrosa: Nonsense, they fell apart far too fast for that. Just some painted golems of fake-enlightened brigands attacking us.
Floria: I won the contest! I won the contest!
Petronella: Yes, we heard the latest zillion times too.
Törnrosa: Tsk, tsk, such brash immodesty is unbecoming for a minion...employee I mean. Perhaps an evening of polishing all the new loot would be good for your character.
Floria: Why on Sanctuary would I need to polish our loot? It's all sold or gems and runes that are fine as they are? And there's no experience in that either.
Törnrosa: Not that anyone seem to get the point...
Petronella: I do! Polishing loot is a tedious and unglamorous task with no real meaning or worth, serving only as a way to put someone perceived as a lower class servant in her perceived place, correct?
Floria: That's not really nice...
Törnrosa: NooOooo... that is not the idea. I only intend...
Petronella: Then there must be another reason why you want Floria occupied in that manner? AHA! I've got it! It is the occupying and busyness that is the very point! So that some people can unsummon their valkyrie and go away for a little humble and chaste "prayer"!
Törnrosa: Will you stop interrupting...
Petronella: Don't think you can fool the all-seeing maid of mischief! That moment next to the Worldstone said it all!
Törnrosa: I believe the correct title is more like all-nosy slugmaiden. In any case, since the fallen amazons have gotten past us we must now atone for this setback by stopping their evil schemes even more profoundly. THAT is why we must lay low at the moment, literally, and bide our time until we can discover a good countermeasure against the blasphemous heretics down there.
Floria: But what are they doing? To me it looks like just celebrating and mingling.
Törnrosa: To the untrained and naive novice maybe, but under the surface lurks sinister plans no doubt. Clearly they are hatching plans about a joint government that would take the world back to the mud age (the Amazonian paleontological term for the time before time where nobody could run and people thus travelled as if going through mud all the time). But I and Tyrael have a grand design. We will disrupt the morale of the enemy and neutralise their organisation and order. Like the unworthy cowards that they are they are sure to run away screaming in the end with green drops over their head signifying their fear.
Petronella: Thanks the gods we are such courageous paragons of chivalry then, not at all resorting to cowardly tactics...
Törnrosa: Don't thank the gods, thank ME. Where were all the various pantheons of Sanctuary when danger threatened, I wonder? Now, to attack the morale of the enemies Tyrael have purposely let the corrupted worldstone remain and...corrupt. That will generate a shockwave of nightmares which will seriously affect those below a certain level of experience. That will make the green vermin sleep terribly and wake so exhausted she can never summon the energy to craft any kind of impressive armour or other fitting outfit and also she will feel she looks terrible from all the lack of beauty sleep so she will never be able to summon the courage to ask her hireling out. That will make her grumpy and snapping at everyone and the pathetic alliance will fall apart when the three starts bickering at each other. In that time of division and strife among squabbling petty delegates the discreet administration and secret illuminated society will conquer and rule efficiently from behind the scenes! Aahahahaaaa!
MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA (evil mastermind laughter)!!!
...
...
Floria: But what if there are a score of gentle little mice that helps Askungen finish her outfit in time? It could happen, you know... No? Alright, I'm coming.
_______________________________________________________________________
Floria: Now what is that coughing sound?
Maltatai: What...ah, hrrm, hello. "Cough"
Floria: Are you ill, sir? Would you like an antidote potion?
Maltatai: I'll be fine. Soon anyway. Recovering. Thanks in any case.
Floria: I'm Floria, the scoutish rogue. No! I mean the rogueish scout...rogue scout!
Maltatai: I'm Maltatai the tellish storying. Storyish telly. Storyteller.
Floria: Did you just pretend to get it wrong to make my misspeaking seem insignificant.
Maltatai: I am shocked by such unseemly accusations and slander my lady!
Floria: I'm sorry.
Maltatai: And also correct. If you don't mind, would you like to give an interview about what has been going on here lately?
Floria: What for?
Maltatai: None less that the Whatever-the-clock News! The finest and only purveyor of Sanctuary's real time battle reports, economic bulletins and political nonsense in written form!
Floria: I suppose...but are you really sure you don't want me to get you an antidote potion? They're really fast and don't taste too bad.
Maltatai: I don't think they would work. It is a bit of a foreign affliction...called a cold. Very irritating and draining but not strictly poison.
Floria: A cold? Perhaps a thawing potion then? But you don't seem blue and slow-moving like someone chilled. Is it some form of curse? Like decrepify?
Maltatai: Effects are probably similar.
Floria: Goodness...that sounds dangerous! Imagine if you were fighting a Prime Evil and just all of a sudden got, like, cursed! And with no antidote potions helping?
Maltatai: Yes, that would be less than optimal, but we are luckily spared from regular demonic interference.
Floria: Are you really sure? These things can be hard to spot sometimes, just look at the High Council of Zakarum and their pious corruption for example.
Maltatai: Hmm, I suppose colds have more than a little bit of the touch of Duriel about them, him having a chilling aura and cold damage as well as being the undisputable lord of slime and snot and all things sickening. Let me just make up some news reportish questions and get back to you shortly.
Floria: OK. Over and out.
Floria: I don't know... I thought that fish soup smelled nice.
Törnrosa: What?
Floria: The fish stew that the blue swashbuckler guy made. It smells nice. I'm hungry.
Törnrosa: You can't be serious. Nobody likes fish stew or fish soup. It is the epitome of nutritious but awful healthy food that nobody would eat if they had a choice. Fit for the smallfolk maybe...
Floria: No, it's garlic mustard that is the worst food ever.
Törnrosa: Is that even a real thing?
Floria: Of course it is! I have it from reliable, uh, sources.
Törnrosa: "looks sceptically at Floria"
Petronella: Why are we here debating the local cuisine from a hidden spot, again?
Törnrosa: How would it be if you listened the first time I explain something for a change?
Petronella: Boring.
Törnrosa: Be quiet. As you perhaps noticed if you were not too absent-minded at the moment, the fallen Amazon and her party managed to escape from hell despite my...our noble efforts. We traced her to the Barbarian highlands where she would certainly fit in by the way. Bullheaded like the likeminded petty grassroot delegates.
Petronella: Because all Barbarians are skirmishers relying on magical damage delivered from a range.
Törnrosa: Because she must be a smelly witless mongrel just like they are!
Floria: I wonder one thing about the northerners. They have these endless legions of incompetent melee fighters wandering aimlessly through the Bloody Foothills. Shouldn't they run out of troops pretty soon?
Törnrosa: No, they are resurrected at once. You see, there are not terribly many warriors guarding Harrogath, you just see the same coming out over and over again and dying just as quickly. But I totally agree that it's hard to tell them apart. If you've seen one Barbarian you've seen them all.
Floria: Still don't mind seeing them.
Petronella. I just thought of something. You who are so good with flaming arrows could maybe try to secretly fire a few of those at the ground right behind one of them if we ever go there again.
Floria: Why on earth would I do that?
Petronella: Because then the air would warm and maybe, just maybe, it would be a like a warm stream of air rising like out of some hot air vent and be enough to blow their kilt up...
Törnrosa: Enough! Will you stop giggling! Thank you. As I was saying the Barbarians are resurrected always, allowing them to serve as a steady stream of catapult fodder.
Floria: But how is that possible?
Törnrosa: They are all minions. The entire garrison of Harrogath is hired by Qual-Kehk who is their main character.
Floria: But that doesn't work. He never leaves the town and you can only have one hireling as a magically bonded adventurer. Besides, where would he get the gold to resurrect them all?
Törnrosa: The Worldstone. It's special power is allowing one Barbarian to have an infinite number of minions and hirelings and also allows those to operate outside the town even if the main character - Qual-Kehk - is inside. That is the mighty power that made it so sought after. As for the gold, well, towns have infinite gold. Being in a monopolist position and having control of all the coining in the land it's pretty much a townspersons market. Luckily they lack any sense of business so someone with a little enlightment can capitalize on that by dumping pile after pile of useless monster loot on them.
Florian: I thought the loot seemed somewhat useful. At least the return of that dirk was funny...
Törnrosa: In any case we battled through hordes of terrifying and troubling demons and fierce creatures...
Petronella: Like the great snake of the northlands, tsk, tsk, heeehehehe...
Törnrosa: How was I supposed to know that old oaf was not meaning it literally?! Snakes are nothing you should be taking lightly!
Petronella: For starters, you could try to listen to people, and I mean really listen to them and not just hear them talking while you plot a new insidious plan for how you will ensnare them in a tangled web of all-controlling influence. And if you are unsure, not to mention worried, or maybe even afraid, or perhaps outright terrified to the point of being startled by the mere hissing that common usage of the letter "s" produces, there is this thing called asking for a clarification.
Törnrosa: After his rotting halls we competently smote the legions of the damned on our way to the Holy Summit itself. It was lacklustre enough, though. I still think we must have taken the wrong turn somewhere or something and stumbled into a some retirement resort for the elderly barbarians. That's probably how we missed the greensickening team!
Floria: I still think those were supposed to be the ancients.
Törnrosa: Nonsense, they fell apart far too fast for that. Just some painted golems of fake-enlightened brigands attacking us.
Floria: I won the contest! I won the contest!
Petronella: Yes, we heard the latest zillion times too.
Törnrosa: Tsk, tsk, such brash immodesty is unbecoming for a minion...employee I mean. Perhaps an evening of polishing all the new loot would be good for your character.
Floria: Why on Sanctuary would I need to polish our loot? It's all sold or gems and runes that are fine as they are? And there's no experience in that either.
Törnrosa: Not that anyone seem to get the point...
Petronella: I do! Polishing loot is a tedious and unglamorous task with no real meaning or worth, serving only as a way to put someone perceived as a lower class servant in her perceived place, correct?
Floria: That's not really nice...
Törnrosa: NooOooo... that is not the idea. I only intend...
Petronella: Then there must be another reason why you want Floria occupied in that manner? AHA! I've got it! It is the occupying and busyness that is the very point! So that some people can unsummon their valkyrie and go away for a little humble and chaste "prayer"!
Törnrosa: Will you stop interrupting...
Petronella: Don't think you can fool the all-seeing maid of mischief! That moment next to the Worldstone said it all!
Törnrosa: I believe the correct title is more like all-nosy slugmaiden. In any case, since the fallen amazons have gotten past us we must now atone for this setback by stopping their evil schemes even more profoundly. THAT is why we must lay low at the moment, literally, and bide our time until we can discover a good countermeasure against the blasphemous heretics down there.
Floria: But what are they doing? To me it looks like just celebrating and mingling.
Törnrosa: To the untrained and naive novice maybe, but under the surface lurks sinister plans no doubt. Clearly they are hatching plans about a joint government that would take the world back to the mud age (the Amazonian paleontological term for the time before time where nobody could run and people thus travelled as if going through mud all the time). But I and Tyrael have a grand design. We will disrupt the morale of the enemy and neutralise their organisation and order. Like the unworthy cowards that they are they are sure to run away screaming in the end with green drops over their head signifying their fear.
Petronella: Thanks the gods we are such courageous paragons of chivalry then, not at all resorting to cowardly tactics...
Törnrosa: Don't thank the gods, thank ME. Where were all the various pantheons of Sanctuary when danger threatened, I wonder? Now, to attack the morale of the enemies Tyrael have purposely let the corrupted worldstone remain and...corrupt. That will generate a shockwave of nightmares which will seriously affect those below a certain level of experience. That will make the green vermin sleep terribly and wake so exhausted she can never summon the energy to craft any kind of impressive armour or other fitting outfit and also she will feel she looks terrible from all the lack of beauty sleep so she will never be able to summon the courage to ask her hireling out. That will make her grumpy and snapping at everyone and the pathetic alliance will fall apart when the three starts bickering at each other. In that time of division and strife among squabbling petty delegates the discreet administration and secret illuminated society will conquer and rule efficiently from behind the scenes! Aahahahaaaa!
MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA (evil mastermind laughter)!!!...
...
Floria: But what if there are a score of gentle little mice that helps Askungen finish her outfit in time? It could happen, you know... No? Alright, I'm coming.
_______________________________________________________________________
Floria: Now what is that coughing sound?
Maltatai: What...ah, hrrm, hello. "Cough"
Floria: Are you ill, sir? Would you like an antidote potion?
Maltatai: I'll be fine. Soon anyway. Recovering. Thanks in any case.
Floria: I'm Floria, the scoutish rogue. No! I mean the rogueish scout...rogue scout!
Maltatai: I'm Maltatai the tellish storying. Storyish telly. Storyteller.
Floria: Did you just pretend to get it wrong to make my misspeaking seem insignificant.
Maltatai: I am shocked by such unseemly accusations and slander my lady!
Floria: I'm sorry.
Maltatai: And also correct. If you don't mind, would you like to give an interview about what has been going on here lately?
Floria: What for?
Maltatai: None less that the Whatever-the-clock News! The finest and only purveyor of Sanctuary's real time battle reports, economic bulletins and political nonsense in written form!
Floria: I suppose...but are you really sure you don't want me to get you an antidote potion? They're really fast and don't taste too bad.
Maltatai: I don't think they would work. It is a bit of a foreign affliction...called a cold. Very irritating and draining but not strictly poison.
Floria: A cold? Perhaps a thawing potion then? But you don't seem blue and slow-moving like someone chilled. Is it some form of curse? Like decrepify?
Maltatai: Effects are probably similar.
Floria: Goodness...that sounds dangerous! Imagine if you were fighting a Prime Evil and just all of a sudden got, like, cursed! And with no antidote potions helping?
Maltatai: Yes, that would be less than optimal, but we are luckily spared from regular demonic interference.
Floria: Are you really sure? These things can be hard to spot sometimes, just look at the High Council of Zakarum and their pious corruption for example.
Maltatai: Hmm, I suppose colds have more than a little bit of the touch of Duriel about them, him having a chilling aura and cold damage as well as being the undisputable lord of slime and snot and all things sickening. Let me just make up some news reportish questions and get back to you shortly.
Floria: OK. Over and out.
Episode 9. Bad Dreams
Snövit: It's picnic day! Fun and games for everyone! And we brought outdoor trip food. We have sand-witches...
Telash: Sandwiches!
Snövit: Sandwiches, fruits that are untastily warm due to having laid in their useless picnic packaging for too long, lukewarm drinks, wiener sausages...
Meshif: Wiener, wiener-wiener...
Snövit: OK? Also bread and mustard without garlic to go along with it. And ketchup, which is totally not Danish.
Rödluvan: One wiener next to anooother wiener
(wiener-wiener)
Two wieners....
Snövit: Will you stop it!? What is that ridiculous song anyway?
Meshif: Kyle the rogue started it. She heard it in a park south of the rogue camp.
Rödluvan: Why is Danish ketchup not wanted?
Maltatai: It is more of a jest, referring to a long time ago in a galaxy not far far away....anyway I had the questionable pleasure at one time of visiting our southern neighbor and among other things eating a sausage with ketchup. It tasted despicable.
Snövit: Bwahahaha!
Maltatai: Your considerate compassion is touching. Anyway, it turned out that this so called ketchup contained tomato ketchup, mustard and apple sauce.
Rödluvan: Apple sauce and tomatoes? And mustard?
Snövit: Eeeeew!
Maltatai: So that's been Danish ketchup to me ever since. Where is Askungen?
Snövit: She is in the wood, and won't come out. She took a few sandwiches and left on her own.
Rödluvan: She's trying to attract a score of sparrows and other little birds. She thinks they can help her get a stylish outfit so she can charm IP. "Sigh". Why must she be so stubborn? She ISN'T bad-looking and she DOESN'T need to dress up like that, she only thinks so.
Snövit: I still think it was a little early in their relationship for your master plan.
Maltatai: Master plan? What, ditch clothing altogether until she finds something suitable?
Rödluvan: ...
Maltatai: You actually told her to do that?!
Rödluvan: It was just a little joke! What is wrong with everyone, why can't people take a small innocent jest like that...how did you know?
Maltatai: "Sigh" I've known you for fifteen Acts and an extended epilogue feast. Suffice to say that I've had ample time to observe taste, style and in short the general way in which your mind works.
Rödluvan: It takes one to know one I say! Aren't you an established member of a meeting forum for total PLAYERS that are SINGLE?!
Maltatai: It's the Single Player Forum and not that you have got the idea correctly but yes, I am a member. By extension, I think you all are some sort of honorary members as I had the pleasure of winning a nice little award for the efforts of chronicling all your misdeeds.
Snövit: Whaaat? Not only one of the worst of the players but also being REWARDED for SPYING on us and recording all our PRIVATE CONVERSATIONS?! Appalling!
Maltatai: Now hold on....
Rödluvan: Pffffhahahahaha!
Snövit: Hihihihihihihihi!
Rödluvan: We're not mad at all.
Snövit: Congratulations! Suitable fan service for such an occasion will be harder to come by though.
Rödluvan: Such a shame...
Maltatai: While I appreciate the fact that you are not angry I am not quite so sure that I would agree about the "not mad at all" part...
Now we do at last move to the topic of today's picnic lecture. We will discuss the metaphysical as well as philosophical aspects of the limits of angel stupidity. Is there such a thing? Can it be measured in a way that is comprehendible to the mortal mind? What are the effects of donning Angelic trinkets and can reactions in dreams upon receiving such things be linked to celestial stupidity and headstrongness? Let me start with...
______________________________________________
Maltatai: Now it is my very great pleasure to welcome you to the long not-awaited return of the Whatever-the-Clock News!
The magnifying magnificent and so on illuminated has decided to ditch fending and put all into completing the melee lightning collection of skills by dumping the future points into charged strike instead. Doubtless the main lighter expects to receive a fancy VIP achievement or a golden-edged collection of fan cards to hand out upon completing the achievement. Fend will remain a one-point resort when facing the most stubborn of mongrels not wishing to bask in her lightning.
Indeed it does seem to suit Törnrosas character since it makes her even more specialised, excelling in her own field and completely ignoring everyone else's. May she fare better than, say, Telash against lightning immunes.
With me I have a very insightful inside source as the first guest. She is without doubt the right bow of Törnrosa and the eyes and ears of the sparking party. Enter Floria, Flowery Flame of the Illuminate!
Floria: What kind of title is that? Wait...have you read the silly names of some potions distributed by a certain red flaming archer?
Maltatai: HOW on earth could I have come across such closely guarded inside secrets? You are the special guest inside source here tonight.
Floria: Inside source...that doesn't sound too respectable. I'm not going to sell secrets of my team or anything.
Maltatai: But of course not! Perish the thought! I merely wish the world to be able to share some of thy benevolent grace and teachings so that we may ascend to thy benign celestial position.
Floria: Oh, you don't need to ascend in any particular way to be in a celestial position, they are just as much in a horizontal...I DIDN'T SAY THAT!
Maltatai: Absolutely not!
Floria: I should just...talk...about something else! That's it! Something else than what I just totally not said! Like...tactics!
Maltatai: Of course. How does your team operate?
Floria I can point out enemies at range with my inner sight and fire arrows in dark places to show them. Petronella tends to engage either first or last depending on where she is. Törnrosa prefers to attack the outer parts of the enemy formation and use her arcing lightning to harm the more densely packed middle and more dangerous elements. It's partly like a distance attack, really.
Maltatai: I hear it's pretty fast too.
Floria: Oh yes, she has a stack of harpoons with increased speed as well as a set of shiny white gauntlets, plated belt and greaves. They're marked by the producer, Sigon™, but Törnrosa thinks it is the name of some legendary hero who left behind an epic set. Really, they are available all over Sanctuary. You get a members bonus if you buy more but it's none the less mass produced standard fare.
Maltatai: And you're still hanging out with each other? Even after having defeated the normal Prime Evils?
Floria: Yes, we're secretly...I DIDN'T SAY THAT OR ANYTHING! What do you mean "normal" Prime Evils?
Maltatai: Oh, just spell-casting, extra minion-damaging, world-domination-plotting Prime Evils. The standard fare.
Floria: Yeah, they're scary. Yes, we're still meeting and doing nothing suspicious for an illuminated heroine team. We sleep badly , though, even Petronella.
Maltatai: How is that? Are you restless now without any opposing armies?
Floria: No, we have nightmares. We're not supposed to! Only the baddies were supposed to have nightmares... I see the Prime Evils all over again and they scare me, but they never get me because Törnrosa and Petronella are there to tank and shield me.
But there are some funny dreams too. I found a superb bow last night which can make the arrows explode all the time and pass through things! It is really great.
Maltatai: If only everyone were as appreciative of the spoils of their dreams...
Thanks you so much for your time Floria, and...sweet dreams.
________________________________________________
Maltatai: Now to the second guest of tonights programme. Enter Ip, the brash Barbarian and immaterially adressed hireling!
Ip: "Enters"
Maltatai: I am sure many have wondered since the last episodes about how the thoughts and thinkings of this man of mystery.
Ip: That "enters" was actually a bit of an exaggeration. I have been here all the time.
Maltatai: Quiet! Man of mystery image, remember?
Ip: Right, right. But everyone involved in the storytelling so far seem to be of the opinion that my address is constantly tracked and spied on wherever I am, which seems hard to combine with the right amount of mysteriousness.
Maltatai: No, I mean, it's not totally that bad...mostly referring to a different kind of Ip address.
Ip: I must say you make surprisingly little sense for being the one in charge of explaining our story.
Maltatai: Then let me move immediately to the background of the second guest appearance. Unmentioned sources mention that Askungen is gathering a substantial number of followers and supporters. Do you have any comment?
Ip: Substantial number of followers being of course minor birds eating her picnic bread crumbs? Yes she is. It is quite the noise actually. Better not bring that cacophony home to nest outside your bedroom. I sort of worry about my former or present or whatever employer. She's been all weird since the victory feast and has some kind of speech issue because she has started to stutter and stammer a lot when I talk to her. I wonder if she maybe actually needs some monsters to battle with some more. Some people take their jobs very seriously and don't feel whole and such when they have nothing to do. Could be something like that.
Maltatai: I take it that things were different during the glorious campaign of maiming and slaughter against Baals army?
Ip: Yeah, sure. We had this merry spinach-smelling open working environment...working especially well with the wind behind you but overall a fruitful setting, which of course pleases environmentally minded people concerned with fruits and stuff. Tactics were simple; I punch people in the face and hack off their heads, Kaylee impales them and says funny things and Askungen runs around throwing stinking cloud projectiles at everything and curses the undead enemies for their resistance to it.
Maltatai: Any good loot available to the greedy and callous mercenary?
Ip: I don't know who you're talking about. I happen to be the epitome of loyalty and idealism. Not even death could keep me from nobly battling the vile foes of my employer...assuming the right amount of gold was donated...hrrm...
Maltatai: Truly we are blessed to have such a gallant champion among us.
Ip: Now that I look back on it itemly, that sword I used starts to look a little flimsy. Just a standard strengthy greatsword. I've been thinking about upgrading but I just can't seem to get the right swing with anything else. Need just a little more practise. And rest. It's been bloody impossible to get a good nights sleep around here, no matter how much I drink.
Maltatai: Yeah, that sounds like the ultimate Barbarian solution to problems...
Ip: We do have a rep' to protect after all.
Maltatai: But what about it? Having nightmares or something?
Ip: As a matter of fact, yes. It's like we're back out there murdering monsters all over again, only this time they are twice as strong or more and have enchantments to aid them. And the big bosses have changed color and look just ridiculous instead of their normal infernal, but stylish, way. Andariel is blue and black, what the (insert overused infernal term)???
Maltatai: May you find a new shiny blade in your dreams and dream of glorious wading through the inferior enemy ranks.
Ip: Now we're talking!
Maltatai: Shouting, more like. Over and out.
Telash: Sandwiches!
Snövit: Sandwiches, fruits that are untastily warm due to having laid in their useless picnic packaging for too long, lukewarm drinks, wiener sausages...
Meshif: Wiener, wiener-wiener...
Snövit: OK? Also bread and mustard without garlic to go along with it. And ketchup, which is totally not Danish.
Rödluvan: One wiener next to anooother wiener
(wiener-wiener)
Two wieners....
Snövit: Will you stop it!? What is that ridiculous song anyway?
Meshif: Kyle the rogue started it. She heard it in a park south of the rogue camp.
Rödluvan: Why is Danish ketchup not wanted?
Maltatai: It is more of a jest, referring to a long time ago in a galaxy not far far away....anyway I had the questionable pleasure at one time of visiting our southern neighbor and among other things eating a sausage with ketchup. It tasted despicable.
Snövit: Bwahahaha!
Maltatai: Your considerate compassion is touching. Anyway, it turned out that this so called ketchup contained tomato ketchup, mustard and apple sauce.
Rödluvan: Apple sauce and tomatoes? And mustard?
Snövit: Eeeeew!
Maltatai: So that's been Danish ketchup to me ever since. Where is Askungen?
Snövit: She is in the wood, and won't come out. She took a few sandwiches and left on her own.
Rödluvan: She's trying to attract a score of sparrows and other little birds. She thinks they can help her get a stylish outfit so she can charm IP. "Sigh". Why must she be so stubborn? She ISN'T bad-looking and she DOESN'T need to dress up like that, she only thinks so.
Snövit: I still think it was a little early in their relationship for your master plan.
Maltatai: Master plan? What, ditch clothing altogether until she finds something suitable?
Rödluvan: ...
Maltatai: You actually told her to do that?!
Rödluvan: It was just a little joke! What is wrong with everyone, why can't people take a small innocent jest like that...how did you know?
Maltatai: "Sigh" I've known you for fifteen Acts and an extended epilogue feast. Suffice to say that I've had ample time to observe taste, style and in short the general way in which your mind works.
Rödluvan: It takes one to know one I say! Aren't you an established member of a meeting forum for total PLAYERS that are SINGLE?!
Maltatai: It's the Single Player Forum and not that you have got the idea correctly but yes, I am a member. By extension, I think you all are some sort of honorary members as I had the pleasure of winning a nice little award for the efforts of chronicling all your misdeeds.
Snövit: Whaaat? Not only one of the worst of the players but also being REWARDED for SPYING on us and recording all our PRIVATE CONVERSATIONS?! Appalling!
Maltatai: Now hold on....
Rödluvan: Pffffhahahahaha!
Snövit: Hihihihihihihihi!
Rödluvan: We're not mad at all.
Snövit: Congratulations! Suitable fan service for such an occasion will be harder to come by though.
Rödluvan: Such a shame...
Maltatai: While I appreciate the fact that you are not angry I am not quite so sure that I would agree about the "not mad at all" part...
Now we do at last move to the topic of today's picnic lecture. We will discuss the metaphysical as well as philosophical aspects of the limits of angel stupidity. Is there such a thing? Can it be measured in a way that is comprehendible to the mortal mind? What are the effects of donning Angelic trinkets and can reactions in dreams upon receiving such things be linked to celestial stupidity and headstrongness? Let me start with...
______________________________________________
Maltatai: Now it is my very great pleasure to welcome you to the long not-awaited return of the Whatever-the-Clock News!
The magnifying magnificent and so on illuminated has decided to ditch fending and put all into completing the melee lightning collection of skills by dumping the future points into charged strike instead. Doubtless the main lighter expects to receive a fancy VIP achievement or a golden-edged collection of fan cards to hand out upon completing the achievement. Fend will remain a one-point resort when facing the most stubborn of mongrels not wishing to bask in her lightning.
Indeed it does seem to suit Törnrosas character since it makes her even more specialised, excelling in her own field and completely ignoring everyone else's. May she fare better than, say, Telash against lightning immunes.
With me I have a very insightful inside source as the first guest. She is without doubt the right bow of Törnrosa and the eyes and ears of the sparking party. Enter Floria, Flowery Flame of the Illuminate!
Floria: What kind of title is that? Wait...have you read the silly names of some potions distributed by a certain red flaming archer?
Maltatai: HOW on earth could I have come across such closely guarded inside secrets? You are the special guest inside source here tonight.
Floria: Inside source...that doesn't sound too respectable. I'm not going to sell secrets of my team or anything.
Maltatai: But of course not! Perish the thought! I merely wish the world to be able to share some of thy benevolent grace and teachings so that we may ascend to thy benign celestial position.
Floria: Oh, you don't need to ascend in any particular way to be in a celestial position, they are just as much in a horizontal...I DIDN'T SAY THAT!
Maltatai: Absolutely not!
Floria: I should just...talk...about something else! That's it! Something else than what I just totally not said! Like...tactics!
Maltatai: Of course. How does your team operate?
Floria I can point out enemies at range with my inner sight and fire arrows in dark places to show them. Petronella tends to engage either first or last depending on where she is. Törnrosa prefers to attack the outer parts of the enemy formation and use her arcing lightning to harm the more densely packed middle and more dangerous elements. It's partly like a distance attack, really.
Maltatai: I hear it's pretty fast too.
Floria: Oh yes, she has a stack of harpoons with increased speed as well as a set of shiny white gauntlets, plated belt and greaves. They're marked by the producer, Sigon™, but Törnrosa thinks it is the name of some legendary hero who left behind an epic set. Really, they are available all over Sanctuary. You get a members bonus if you buy more but it's none the less mass produced standard fare.
Maltatai: And you're still hanging out with each other? Even after having defeated the normal Prime Evils?
Floria: Yes, we're secretly...I DIDN'T SAY THAT OR ANYTHING! What do you mean "normal" Prime Evils?
Maltatai: Oh, just spell-casting, extra minion-damaging, world-domination-plotting Prime Evils. The standard fare.
Floria: Yeah, they're scary. Yes, we're still meeting and doing nothing suspicious for an illuminated heroine team. We sleep badly , though, even Petronella.
Maltatai: How is that? Are you restless now without any opposing armies?
Floria: No, we have nightmares. We're not supposed to! Only the baddies were supposed to have nightmares... I see the Prime Evils all over again and they scare me, but they never get me because Törnrosa and Petronella are there to tank and shield me.
But there are some funny dreams too. I found a superb bow last night which can make the arrows explode all the time and pass through things! It is really great.
Maltatai: If only everyone were as appreciative of the spoils of their dreams...
Thanks you so much for your time Floria, and...sweet dreams.
________________________________________________
Maltatai: Now to the second guest of tonights programme. Enter Ip, the brash Barbarian and immaterially adressed hireling!
Ip: "Enters"
Maltatai: I am sure many have wondered since the last episodes about how the thoughts and thinkings of this man of mystery.
Ip: That "enters" was actually a bit of an exaggeration. I have been here all the time.
Maltatai: Quiet! Man of mystery image, remember?
Ip: Right, right. But everyone involved in the storytelling so far seem to be of the opinion that my address is constantly tracked and spied on wherever I am, which seems hard to combine with the right amount of mysteriousness.
Maltatai: No, I mean, it's not totally that bad...mostly referring to a different kind of Ip address.
Ip: I must say you make surprisingly little sense for being the one in charge of explaining our story.
Maltatai: Then let me move immediately to the background of the second guest appearance. Unmentioned sources mention that Askungen is gathering a substantial number of followers and supporters. Do you have any comment?
Ip: Substantial number of followers being of course minor birds eating her picnic bread crumbs? Yes she is. It is quite the noise actually. Better not bring that cacophony home to nest outside your bedroom. I sort of worry about my former or present or whatever employer. She's been all weird since the victory feast and has some kind of speech issue because she has started to stutter and stammer a lot when I talk to her. I wonder if she maybe actually needs some monsters to battle with some more. Some people take their jobs very seriously and don't feel whole and such when they have nothing to do. Could be something like that.
Maltatai: I take it that things were different during the glorious campaign of maiming and slaughter against Baals army?
Ip: Yeah, sure. We had this merry spinach-smelling open working environment...working especially well with the wind behind you but overall a fruitful setting, which of course pleases environmentally minded people concerned with fruits and stuff. Tactics were simple; I punch people in the face and hack off their heads, Kaylee impales them and says funny things and Askungen runs around throwing stinking cloud projectiles at everything and curses the undead enemies for their resistance to it.
Maltatai: Any good loot available to the greedy and callous mercenary?
Ip: I don't know who you're talking about. I happen to be the epitome of loyalty and idealism. Not even death could keep me from nobly battling the vile foes of my employer...assuming the right amount of gold was donated...hrrm...
Maltatai: Truly we are blessed to have such a gallant champion among us.
Ip: Now that I look back on it itemly, that sword I used starts to look a little flimsy. Just a standard strengthy greatsword. I've been thinking about upgrading but I just can't seem to get the right swing with anything else. Need just a little more practise. And rest. It's been bloody impossible to get a good nights sleep around here, no matter how much I drink.
Maltatai: Yeah, that sounds like the ultimate Barbarian solution to problems...
Ip: We do have a rep' to protect after all.
Maltatai: But what about it? Having nightmares or something?
Ip: As a matter of fact, yes. It's like we're back out there murdering monsters all over again, only this time they are twice as strong or more and have enchantments to aid them. And the big bosses have changed color and look just ridiculous instead of their normal infernal, but stylish, way. Andariel is blue and black, what the (insert overused infernal term)???
Maltatai: May you find a new shiny blade in your dreams and dream of glorious wading through the inferior enemy ranks.
Ip: Now we're talking!
Maltatai: Shouting, more like. Over and out.
Episode 10. Smithing Kind Amiable Virtuous Energetic Neighbours
Maltatai: On the island of Lycander a stylish sun set in a stylish sunset. Near one of the beaches torches and lamps marked the location for a huge beach party being prepared, in honor of the beginning of the construction of the new rescuing and watching ship commissioned by Meshif with the (relatively speaking) aid of two enthusiastic bowazons and their comrades. Even the less acquainted like the newer Barbaric fellow Ip were encouraged, not to say required by Rödluvan, to attend. A more mysterious invitation had been issued as well, in the form of a loud proclamation that any spies, scouts and emissaries of foreign powers skulking in the forest could feel free to come down and have a snack before resuming their dubious activities.
Alone in one of the camping cottages further away from the beach a gloomy and sad grassroot sat sloping and staring out through the window. She looked at the dark mail coat hanging over a chair next to her and looked miserable as she looked back out the window. She muttered to herself.
"What's a beach party anyway? It could turn out to be totally stiff and boring and full of evil red pranks and completely, well, boring or....or totally wonderful."
____________________________________________
One episode earlier:
Splinter the rat peeked out of the hole in Askungens wall and looked around carefully. His people feasted on bread crumbs and cheese bits with a faint smell of spinach, all left in a pile outside the house. Beneath it was situated a large and secret colony of rats, hidden carefully in an abandoned small network of sewer pipes. Neither cat nor snake could get in. There was even free food like this day from the weird human in green. Splinter did not want to lose such benefits and the responsible character traits of his compelled him to concern himself with the well-being of the greenling.
Apparently it was a human female. Without fur it seemed apart from on the head. Most curious, but she appeared fully grown despite that. She dressed in bits of old pipes that had been polished and sewn together. She was not well. She slept badly and had red eyes and moaned about demons haunting her dreams. Never could she find time or energy to work on the new pipe bit suit that she would like, nor did she have the proper four-socketed base she needed. Splinter meditated on the subject for a long time (for a busy rat master) and decided that his people should help the greenling. He went down to explain the situation to the other rats.
The Mice Smithing Song
In English
In Swedish
____________________________________________________
One moment later in the current episode:
Askungen turned from the window. There was a low squeaking noise coming from the other window (the camping cottages have two pairs of windows which are also doors if you open them completely, reflecting some sort of obscure laziness of the builder). Now there was some rustling and the scraping of heavy metal on the ground. She opened up. Outside ran at least a dozen mice operating miniature tackle and cranes with which they moved green plates forward towards the door. When they saw Askungen they all cheered and told her to put it on.
Askungen was speechless with gratitude but managed to stutter something in the line of "how can I ever...it's wonderful...thanks so much!".
In honor of the helpful mice Askungen offered them any loot they would like that was left from former or future monster slaying campaigns. After a brief discussion the mice stated that they wanted a 50% cut of all emerald findings in the future. Askungen thought they had excellent taste and promptly accepted after a brief but dutifully procedural meeting with herself.
Now, one might wonder what mice would be doing with emeralds. The thing is, there are emeralds and there are emeralds. Some are just pretty green stones that gice dexterity when put on your clothes. Others, however, have more interesting properties. Among the crafty mice under Askungens cottage, such emeralds are known as Warpstone.
Over and out.
Alone in one of the camping cottages further away from the beach a gloomy and sad grassroot sat sloping and staring out through the window. She looked at the dark mail coat hanging over a chair next to her and looked miserable as she looked back out the window. She muttered to herself.
"What's a beach party anyway? It could turn out to be totally stiff and boring and full of evil red pranks and completely, well, boring or....or totally wonderful."
____________________________________________
One episode earlier:
Splinter the rat peeked out of the hole in Askungens wall and looked around carefully. His people feasted on bread crumbs and cheese bits with a faint smell of spinach, all left in a pile outside the house. Beneath it was situated a large and secret colony of rats, hidden carefully in an abandoned small network of sewer pipes. Neither cat nor snake could get in. There was even free food like this day from the weird human in green. Splinter did not want to lose such benefits and the responsible character traits of his compelled him to concern himself with the well-being of the greenling.
Apparently it was a human female. Without fur it seemed apart from on the head. Most curious, but she appeared fully grown despite that. She dressed in bits of old pipes that had been polished and sewn together. She was not well. She slept badly and had red eyes and moaned about demons haunting her dreams. Never could she find time or energy to work on the new pipe bit suit that she would like, nor did she have the proper four-socketed base she needed. Splinter meditated on the subject for a long time (for a busy rat master) and decided that his people should help the greenling. He went down to explain the situation to the other rats.
The Mice Smithing Song
In English
- Poor Askungen.
Not a moments sleep or resting
'Fore her memory's protesting
"Keep up your guard, keep up your guard"
"ASKUNGEN!"
All the night she must relive it
Retake Cain
Down from his gibbet
Casting, running, herding, tanking
And watch out for scary flanking
Here she's casting
Decoys lasting
Until Diablo's blasting
For it's she who leads the party
till she get's legs made of jelly,
spinach-smelly
"Hurry up, Mephisto's waiting!"
- Yes, keep resting...
Tell you what:
This greenling probably won't be at any beach party.
-What? No cheese party?
- What did you say?
- You'll see. Those dreams have her nailed.
With work, work and work.
She'll never get her plate made.
- Ehm, ehm, poor Askungen.
- Hey, we shall smith it!
We shall smith and we shall socket
We shall craft a plate that blocks it
Bring the template from our hovel
We will use the gothic model
We smith and light our furnace
To harden it in turns, thus
Askungen at ball
Among the guest list wide and tall
She'll be most awesome and the greenest of them all
Hurry up now, make the cut now
Shape that buckle 'bove the gut now
Shining gems to make it greenly
The topazes are unseemly
- Yes I'm cutting (our expenses).
- And I can sew the padding.
- Let alone the metal plating, where are our gems waiting?
And most awesome green and grassiest of all
And most awesome green and rootiest of all
A plate gives you scant protection
But it brings you luck
Dress up and with speedy action
With Ip you will soon end up stuck
And if you expect more trouble
Just fashion one with safer runes
Although the hellish minion hit you
It will feel as if he's missed you
And Sol runes will triumph once more
Like before
Not a moments sleep or resting
'Fore her memory's protesting
"Keep up your guard, keep up your guard"
"ASKUNGEN!"
All the night she must relive it
Retake Cain
Down from his gibbet
Casting, running, herding, tanking
And watch out for scary flanking
Here she's casting
Decoys lasting
Until Diablo's blasting
For it's she who leads the party
till she get's legs made of jelly,
spinach-smelly
"Hurry up, Mephisto's waiting!"
- Yes, keep resting...
Tell you what:
This greenling probably won't be at any beach party.
-What? No cheese party?
- What did you say?
- You'll see. Those dreams have her nailed.
With work, work and work.
She'll never get her plate made.
- Ehm, ehm, poor Askungen.
- Hey, we shall smith it!
We shall smith and we shall socket
We shall craft a plate that blocks it
Bring the template from our hovel
We will use the gothic model
We smith and light our furnace
To harden it in turns, thus
Askungen at ball
Among the guest list wide and tall
She'll be most awesome and the greenest of them all
Hurry up now, make the cut now
Shape that buckle 'bove the gut now
Shining gems to make it greenly
The topazes are unseemly
- Yes I'm cutting (our expenses).
- And I can sew the padding.
- Let alone the metal plating, where are our gems waiting?
And most awesome green and grassiest of all
And most awesome green and rootiest of all
A plate gives you scant protection
But it brings you luck
Dress up and with speedy action
With Ip you will soon end up stuck
And if you expect more trouble
Just fashion one with safer runes
Although the hellish minion hit you
It will feel as if he's missed you
And Sol runes will triumph once more
Like before
In Swedish
- Stackars Askungen.
Knappt får hon en stund att vila
I en dröm där hon får ila
"Kom genast hit, spring genast dit"
"ASKUNGEN!"
Varje natt får hon arbeta
Hon får jobba
Hon får streta
Kasta, trixa, spetsa, ramma
Varje natt är det detsamma
Här hon kastar
Där hon motar
Bort allt dumt som dem hotar
Det är ju hon som knogar
Tills hon blir alldeles virrig,
darrig, stirrig
"Raska på, Mephisto väntar!"
- Ja, sov sött...
- Vet ni vad?
- Askungen går nog inte på bal.
- Va? Inte det?
- Vad var det du sa?
- Ni ska få se. Drömmarna fixar det nog.
Med jobb, jobb och jobb.
Hon får aldrig sin rustning klar.
- Öh, öh, stackars Askungen.
- Hej, vi ska smida!
Vi ska sy och vi ska smida
Vi ska faktiskt välja sida
För den stora galakvällen
Gäller gotiska modellen
Vi slår och bankar i den
Gröna mönsterstilen
Och Askungen på bal
Bland dumma skämt i hundratal
Det grönaste ska bli av strandens musselskal
Sätt igång nu skynda ila
Vi har inte tid att vila
Rustningen den ska vi klara
Ja, hamra lite bara
- Jag klipper till med saxen.
- Idiot, det är plåt.
- Var katten har jag lagt dem, vem kan skaffa smyckning?
Och den grönaste hon blir på hela kvällen
Och den grönaste hon blir på alla ställen
Grön plåt ger åt tanken vingar
Den blir verklig då
I drömmen du allt betvingar
Var sak du vill ta kan du få
Och om du bekymmer väntar
Så ordnar vi det på en gång
Fastän det regnar spjut och bråte
Så studsar de blott åter
Om de mot Askungen ställs
Med Sol-ig pälls
Knappt får hon en stund att vila
I en dröm där hon får ila
"Kom genast hit, spring genast dit"
"ASKUNGEN!"
Varje natt får hon arbeta
Hon får jobba
Hon får streta
Kasta, trixa, spetsa, ramma
Varje natt är det detsamma
Här hon kastar
Där hon motar
Bort allt dumt som dem hotar
Det är ju hon som knogar
Tills hon blir alldeles virrig,
darrig, stirrig
"Raska på, Mephisto väntar!"
- Ja, sov sött...
- Vet ni vad?
- Askungen går nog inte på bal.
- Va? Inte det?
- Vad var det du sa?
- Ni ska få se. Drömmarna fixar det nog.
Med jobb, jobb och jobb.
Hon får aldrig sin rustning klar.
- Öh, öh, stackars Askungen.
- Hej, vi ska smida!
Vi ska sy och vi ska smida
Vi ska faktiskt välja sida
För den stora galakvällen
Gäller gotiska modellen
Vi slår och bankar i den
Gröna mönsterstilen
Och Askungen på bal
Bland dumma skämt i hundratal
Det grönaste ska bli av strandens musselskal
Sätt igång nu skynda ila
Vi har inte tid att vila
Rustningen den ska vi klara
Ja, hamra lite bara
- Jag klipper till med saxen.
- Idiot, det är plåt.
- Var katten har jag lagt dem, vem kan skaffa smyckning?
Och den grönaste hon blir på hela kvällen
Och den grönaste hon blir på alla ställen
Grön plåt ger åt tanken vingar
Den blir verklig då
I drömmen du allt betvingar
Var sak du vill ta kan du få
Och om du bekymmer väntar
Så ordnar vi det på en gång
Fastän det regnar spjut och bråte
Så studsar de blott åter
Om de mot Askungen ställs
Med Sol-ig pälls
____________________________________________________
One moment later in the current episode:
Askungen turned from the window. There was a low squeaking noise coming from the other window (the camping cottages have two pairs of windows which are also doors if you open them completely, reflecting some sort of obscure laziness of the builder). Now there was some rustling and the scraping of heavy metal on the ground. She opened up. Outside ran at least a dozen mice operating miniature tackle and cranes with which they moved green plates forward towards the door. When they saw Askungen they all cheered and told her to put it on.
Askungen was speechless with gratitude but managed to stutter something in the line of "how can I ever...it's wonderful...thanks so much!".
In honor of the helpful mice Askungen offered them any loot they would like that was left from former or future monster slaying campaigns. After a brief discussion the mice stated that they wanted a 50% cut of all emerald findings in the future. Askungen thought they had excellent taste and promptly accepted after a brief but dutifully procedural meeting with herself.
Now, one might wonder what mice would be doing with emeralds. The thing is, there are emeralds and there are emeralds. Some are just pretty green stones that gice dexterity when put on your clothes. Others, however, have more interesting properties. Among the crafty mice under Askungens cottage, such emeralds are known as Warpstone.
Over and out.
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