Hunt the Barkel
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U4-Welcome
Guest
[english accent] I believe *takes off glasses* I may be of assistance.[/english accent]
Cookie to whoever gets the reference.
As far as I know from the emails we\'ve been exchanging recently (he\'s giving me a hand with my job search, y\'see), Barkel is extremely busy with real life. The one where ther\'s no place for minis (yuck). In fact, he hasn\'t even replied to my last email in a few days, so either his busy-ness has reached a new high, or I\'ve unwittingly insulted him ; I don\'t think I did.
As for his story, I asked him the same, and *drum roll* here it is so far !
Barkel, Pamtax the wizard, and Fred sat around the warm fire.
“She wasn’t an orc,” Barkel said. “She was a half orc.”
“Half orc, half what?” Pamtax asked.
“Human, I guess,” said Barkel.
“What person in their right mind would have sex with an orc?”
Pamtax asked.
“I don’t think it was consensual,” Barkel said.
“You mean some poor bastard was raped by a she-orc?”
“No, you idiot!” Barkel fussed, “the mother was the human.”
“Oh,” Pamtax said, and they grew quiet. A few moments later Fred
broke the silence, “I’d have sex with an orc.”
As the fired died down, Barkel smoked on his pipe. “I think Fred is
asleep,” he said, “what are you reading, Pamtax?”
Pamtax looked up. “Oh, I’m reading a spell book. It says here
that I can transform a person to look like a troll.”
“Will it make them as strong as a troll?” Barkel asked.
“I don’t think so,” Pamtax said. “You’d just be able to
scare people I guess.”
”Sounds like a good way to get yourself killed,” Barkel said.
“It’d
be good for a harmless prank. I could turn you into a troll,
and you could scare the devil out of Fred.”
“That might be good for a laugh,” Barkel said. “Let’s do
it.”
Moments later Barkel danced around the fire like a fool. “Fred, wake
up! I’m a troll! I’m a troll!”
Fred shot up in his sleeping bag and screamed like a drunken banshee.
Then he pulled a pistol from his bag and shot Barkel square in the
head.
Pamtax walked over and kicked Barkel’s dead body. “Since when do
you sleep with a pistol, Fred?” he asked.
“Gimmie that pistol,” Pamtax pecked.
“It’s a nice one, ain’t it,” Fred said, handing it over.
“Barkel gave it to me.”
“Lucky for you,” Pamtax said.
“Yeah,” Fred laughed excitedly, “who’d of ever thought we’d
run into trolls in these parts. It was a nice shot though, huh?”
“Yes it was,” Pamtax admitted. “You got him right between the
eyes. Dead on the spot.”
“I wish Barkel had seen it. He’s always calling me a lousy
shot.”
“Oh I think Barkel saw it,” Pamtax said.
“Really?” Fred said getting more excited, “where is he?”
“Oh,” Pamtax said somewhat bemused, “that’s him over by the
fire. Disguised as a troll. With a hole in his head.”
“I killed Barkel?” Fred said staring down at the lifeless corpse.
“Well, technically yes,” Pamtax said. “You fired the gun, which
sent the bullet through his brain, which was, most likely, the cause of
death, but he had it coming. I mean, he was dancing around the fire
disguised as a troll. He should have known better.”
“How did he disguise himself as a troll?” Fred asked.
“That’s not important,” Pamtax insisted. “What is important is
how are we going to get him to Raul, the resurrector?”
“Do we have to bring him back to life?” Fred asked.
“Well,” Pamtax said condescendingly, “he is the only one who
knows where the treasure is.”
“But if we bring him back to life he’s gonna kill me,” Fred
whined.
“It’s only fair,” Pamtax said, “you killed him first.”
“Why do I have to carry the body?” Fred asked.
“Because,” Pamtax explained, “you killed him.”
“Yeah, but he stinks. I think he’s beginning to rot.”
“No,” Pamtax mused, “that’s Barkel’s normal smell. I suspect
once he starts to rot he’ll smell a good bit better.”
“Can you make him rot faster?”
“Nah,” he said, “the rotting smell will just attract dragons.”
“D- d- dragons?” Fred stuttered. “Th- there are dragons
here?”
“We are in the Valley of 1000 Dragons? What did you expect to find
here?”
Suddenly a cloud passed over the sun. Both men looked up and saw their
worst nightmare descending from the sky. “Dragon!” they screamed
and then ran for the trees.
“Whew, that was close,” Pamtax panted. “Where is Barkel?”
“Out there with the dragon, I suppose.”
“You left him out there with the dragon?”
Fred looked at Pamtax quizzically, “Was that wrong?”
The two men looked out into the field as the giant dragon fell upon
Barkel’s lifeless corpse. The dragon shoveled Barkel into his mouth,
chewed him up and swallowed him. A few seconds later the dragon began
to hack like a cat with a hairball wedged in his throat. After a moment
of heaving, a chunk of Barkel came flying out of his mouth. Then he
flew away.
The two men made their way over to the dragon’s grizzly dinner scene.
There, in a gob of dragon yuck, sat Barkel’s disembodied foot.
“Well,” said Pamtax, “we don’t technically have to have all of
him. So long as we have some piece of him.”
“Are you sure?” Fred asked, uncertain.
“Well I’m pretty sure!” Pamtax shouted. “It’s not like we
can go ask that dragon to cough up the rest of him, now can we?”
“No I guess not,” Fred fussed. “I just hate to think I lugged
his whole body around when all I really needed was a piece of him.”
“Well, which piece do you suppose you might have chose to remove from
our esteemed leader’s person?” Pamtax asked, becoming irritated.
“I don’t rightly know,” Fred said, “but it would have been a
site smaller than the whole fat thing.”
“Wow,” the buxom but not so bright barmaid Bridget said, bending
over in fro
nt of Fred revealing her ample cleavage, “did you see any
other dragons while you were in the Valley?”
“Um,” Fred stammered, completely mesmerized by her bosoms, “two…
huge ones.”
“Really,” Bridget gasped, “what color were they, red? Green?
I’ve heard there are even some black dragons in the Valley.”
“Pink,” Fred drooled as he imagined touching her soft, pink skin.
“Really?” Bridget said, straightening up, “I’ve never heard of
pink dragons before.”
“What?” Fred said, snapping out of his fantasy world. “What?”
“I said, I’ve never heard of pink dragons like the ones you fought
in the valley. You’re so heroic. Can you come to my room for a
minute?”
“Have a seat on my bed,” Bridget said untying the lace in her
bustier, “I want to show you something I’ve never shown another
man.”
Fred quickly jumped on the bed and waited for Bridget to reveal her
gigantic twin heavens to him. He suppressed a squeal of glee.
“These two beauties haven’t felt the touch of a man since my father
played with them when I was a child,” she said, bending over.
“Excuse me?” Fred said, suddenly uncomfortable and nauseated.
Then Bridget lugged a huge chest out from under her bed, pulled a key
from her blouse, and opened the lock. Inside the chest were two of the
most beautifully crafted swords Fred had ever seen.
“They’re lovely,” Fred said, simultaneously impressed and
profoundly disappointed.
“My father made them,” she said, “he always wanted a son. But I
can be a hero too, I know I can,” she said, growing louder. “And I
will hack to pieces… and devour… any man that tries to stand in my
way!” Her breasts heaved with anger and undirected rage, then
slowly she settled down, smiled and turned to Fred, “Could I join you
and your wizard friend on your adventure?”
Pamtax ogled Bridget from across the bar. “She wants to join our
party?” he asked.
“Um, yes,” Fred said, “and I think she should join. I mean,
I’m just a businessman, and you’ve been a wizard for what, 2
months?”
“Ten years,” Pamtax said.
“Really,” Fred paused. “And you still can’t throw a fire bolt
or lightning bolt?”
“I’m working on it,” he snapped, and then there was silence as
they both watched Bridget. “Man,” Pamtax said, “I’d like to see
what she keeps in her treasure chest.”
“She showed ‘em to me last night,” Fred boasted, knowing that
Pamtax would misunderstand.
“Really?” the wizard asked. “She showed you her…”
“Treasures,” Fred interrupted, “Yeah, she let me play with ‘em
too.”
“You’re a liar,” he said suspiciously. He took a long drink of
his beer and returned to staring at Bridget. “Did she really?”
“Anyway,” Fred continued, “Barkel’s dead and we need a warrior
in case we should run into trouble.”
“But we’re going to resurrect Barkel,” Pamtax said.
“But what if we can’t find Raul the Resurrector? We don’t even
know where to look for him.”
“Look for whom?” Bridget interrupted as she sat down with the
guys.
“Raul the Resurrector,” Pamtax said.
“Oh, his house is just next door,” she said.
“Great,” Fred said, “let’s go!”
“Well,” she continued, “he’s probably not there. I suspect
he’s already down at the square by now.”
“Why is he at the square?”
“That’s where they’re hanging him today.”
Fred and Pamtax ran to the town square to save Raul the Resurrector.
Bridget followed behind. When they reached the square the town crier
was calling to order. “Hear Ye! Hear Ye! Gather around to witness
the hanging of the Letch King!”
“The Letch King,” Fred said, “why do they call him that?”
“Because,” Bridget said, “he’s a filthy old bastard.”
“I see,” Fred said with a perplexed look about him.
“Among other nasty pranks he pulls, he has this formula that he likes
to give that makes a woman forget herself and want to sleep with
him.”
“So the town is mad because he makes his own beer?” Pamtax asked.
“It’s worse than beer,” she said, “a stout woman can take her
beer. No woman can resist this formula. She will do whatever the man
asks.”
“I see,” Pamtax said and pondered for a moment. “Do you know
where we can get some of this formula… for study?”
Pamtax, Fred, and Bridget rushed over to Raul who was waiting in the
stocks for his execution.
“Are you Raul the Resurrector?” Pamtax asked.
“I am,” he snapped. He looked around the group and stopped at
Bridget. “Hey baby,” he said, “what can I do to you?”
“Actually,” Bridget said, ignoring his comment, “a member of our
party has died and we need you to resurrect him.”
“You have a stiff huh?” he said, “what a coincidence, so have
I,” and he burst into laughter.
“Can you help us or not, old man,” Fred said.
“Let me see the stiff,” he responded between laughs.
Fred reached into his bag and pulled out the foot of Barkel. As soon
as he saw it Raul started laughing all the harder. He laughed and
laughed until the guards pulled him out of the stocks and marched him to
the scaffold. He laughed and laughed as the hang man pulled the lever
and he fell through the trap door, and hanged to death.
The group watched as Raul wiggled and squirmed, and gurgled his last
gurgle. “Well,” Pamtax said, “any other resurrectors in town?”
“No,” Bridget said, “the only other wizard I know of for miles
and miles is Haggis the Nasty. He lives about 3 days north of here on
the Plane of the Turd. Legend has it that an ancient giant came to the
area and defecated right on him, giving him eternal life. It is said
that Haggis wishes to share his good fortune with all who visit him, by
making them eat of the…”
“Ok, ok,” Fred interrupted. “Just take us there so we can get it
over with.”
“Or,” she said, “we could just wait until tomorrow.”
“What happens tomorrow?” Pamtax asked.
“Tomorrow morning, as the sun rises, Raul the Resurrector rises from
the dead. We could ask him to resurrect Barkel then.”
“Oh yeah,” Fred and Pamtax agreed, “let’s do that then.”
“Well,” said Fred, “if we have until tomorrow morning to waste,
shall we head back to the bar?”
“Sounds good to me,” Pamtax agreed, and the three adventurers went
off for a beer.
The local Brewmeister was particularly skilled at his trade. Fred, and
Pamtax enjoyed their beverage so much that they had another, and
eventually another. Quickly the clarity of sobriety was drowned in an
amber ocean of boastful declarations of skill and prowess, and pointless
stories that meandered off into the dark night.
“Wake Up!” Bridget yelled. “Wake up, for the fifth time this
morning, wake up!”
Pamtax and Fred rubbed their eyes and gently scratched their heads.
“What going on?” Fred asked.
“I’ve woken you guys up four times this morning. Now they’ve
caught Raul again and they are about to hang him again.”
The two men very clumsily jumped out of bed, grabbed Barkel’s foot,
and ran down to the square in time to watch Raul hang by the neck.
“Well rats,” Fred said and looked down at Barkel’s decaying foot.
“Who’s up for another round?”
A week passed with Fred, Pamtax, and Bridget drinking their nights away
and waking up far too late to save Raul. After their seventh failure
they decided to stop trying to save him, as it was breaking large gaps
in their inebriation. Three more weeks passed, or so they were told,
when their money ran out.
“Right,” Pamtax said, “tomorrow we will save Raul and have him
resurrect Barkel.”
“But what shall we do for dinner tonight?” Fred asked.
“What happened to our dried beef?”
“We gave it to Bridget a couple of nights ago in exchange for her
showing us her bossoms.”
“Yes,” Pamtax moaned, “I wish I could remember that.”
“Me too,” said Fred.
“Well, I’m sure it was well worth it. Tonight we eat grass.
Except for Bridget, she’ll have beef.”
The next morning Fred, Pamtax, and Bridget woke up bright and early and
made their way to Raul’s resurrection stone. As the first rays of
sunlight fell on the rock, the astral image of Raul began to appear and
solidify. “Ahh,” he said, “’tis the hot chick and the two
fruits with the foot.”
“We’re not gay,” Fred protested.
“Not yet,” Raul said. “Now, what can I do for you?”
“We need you to resur
rect our leader,” Bridget said.
“I’d love to, but I’ll need more than a foot. I need the whole
body to resurrect the whole body.”
“But he’s in the belly of a giant dragon,” Fred complained.
“Then it looks like you have a dragon to kill,” Raul said.
“The good news,” Raul said, “is that dragons cannot digest human
bones. The bad news is dragons usually leave their dropping within
their lair. However, if you can sneak in while the dragon is asleep,
you may be able to get your leader’s bones without waking the
wyrm.”
“But how will we find the dragon?” Bridget asked.
“I believe there is a tracker in town. He may be able to help.”
“Would you come with us?” Pamtax asked.
“I’m afraid I wouldn’t make it past the first day. See, whether
I live or I die, every morning I am resurrected here on this rock. So
I’d much rather stay here in town, and perchance, get a little
booty.”
“There he is!” a distant voice yelled.
“Well, I must be going,” Raul said and bolted into the woods.
“I told you we needed the whole body,” Fred said, and tossed
Barkel’s foot on the bar.
“No you didn’t. You asked if we needed it.”
“Yeah, and you said we didn’t. Now we have a leader in the belly
of a dragon which is who knows where!”
“Excuse me madam,” a suave, burly voice interrupted, “my name is
Fjord, Fjord the Pathfinder. It sounds as if you are in need of a
tracker.”
“Well, yes,” Fred said, “but I’m not a woman.”
“That is a pity,” Fjord said, licking his lips. He eyed Fred while
rubbing his stubbly chin, “are you certain?”
“Yes!”
“Of course you are! How dare I insinuate otherwise. It was
disgraceful of me. You are obviously a man, even if a petite, long
haired, sweet smelling one. So, do you need a tracker or not?”
“So,” Fjord said, “what exactly do you need me to track? I can
track people, game, dwarves, fairies, goblins, trolls, anything!”
“How about elves?” Pamtax asked.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Fjord said, “there’s no such thing as
elves. What do you think this is, fantasy land? But if they existed, I
could track them. I can track anything. Anything at all, from gnomes
to ghosts, I can track it.”
“How about a giant pink dragon?” Fred asked.
“Except a giant pink dragon,” Fjord said dejectedly. “It is the
one beast that has eluded me all of my life.”
“How about a dead body,” Bridgett interrupted, “could you track a
dead body for us?”
“Oh, now that is easy. I want you all to think very hard.
Concentrate. Now, where is the last place you remember leaving the
body?”
“In the belly of a giant pink dragon,” said Fred.
“So,” Raul said, “what is so important about this Barkel, that
you would take on a giant, pink dragon to save his corpse?”
“Well,” Fred said, choosing his words carefully, “Barkel knows
the location of something special to us.”
“Ahh, a treasure. But surely it is more than just treasure. You
could take on a red dragon, or a black dragon, and have plenty more
treasure than you could ever spend in a lifetime. And you’d be far
more likely to survive. I’m afraid I can’t help. I’d rather live
a little longer.”
“Ok,” Pamtax said, “but this must be kept absolutely secret.”
“You have my word,” Raul assured him.
“Barkel told us, before he died, that he knew the exact location of
the treasure of Bezel Bedezzle.”
Cookie to whoever gets the reference.
As far as I know from the emails we\'ve been exchanging recently (he\'s giving me a hand with my job search, y\'see), Barkel is extremely busy with real life. The one where ther\'s no place for minis (yuck). In fact, he hasn\'t even replied to my last email in a few days, so either his busy-ness has reached a new high, or I\'ve unwittingly insulted him ; I don\'t think I did.
As for his story, I asked him the same, and *drum roll* here it is so far !
Barkel, Pamtax the wizard, and Fred sat around the warm fire.
“She wasn’t an orc,” Barkel said. “She was a half orc.”
“Half orc, half what?” Pamtax asked.
“Human, I guess,” said Barkel.
“What person in their right mind would have sex with an orc?”
Pamtax asked.
“I don’t think it was consensual,” Barkel said.
“You mean some poor bastard was raped by a she-orc?”
“No, you idiot!” Barkel fussed, “the mother was the human.”
“Oh,” Pamtax said, and they grew quiet. A few moments later Fred
broke the silence, “I’d have sex with an orc.”
As the fired died down, Barkel smoked on his pipe. “I think Fred is
asleep,” he said, “what are you reading, Pamtax?”
Pamtax looked up. “Oh, I’m reading a spell book. It says here
that I can transform a person to look like a troll.”
“Will it make them as strong as a troll?” Barkel asked.
“I don’t think so,” Pamtax said. “You’d just be able to
scare people I guess.”
”Sounds like a good way to get yourself killed,” Barkel said.
“It’d
be good for a harmless prank. I could turn you into a troll,
and you could scare the devil out of Fred.”
“That might be good for a laugh,” Barkel said. “Let’s do
it.”
Moments later Barkel danced around the fire like a fool. “Fred, wake
up! I’m a troll! I’m a troll!”
Fred shot up in his sleeping bag and screamed like a drunken banshee.
Then he pulled a pistol from his bag and shot Barkel square in the
head.
Pamtax walked over and kicked Barkel’s dead body. “Since when do
you sleep with a pistol, Fred?” he asked.
“Gimmie that pistol,” Pamtax pecked.
“It’s a nice one, ain’t it,” Fred said, handing it over.
“Barkel gave it to me.”
“Lucky for you,” Pamtax said.
“Yeah,” Fred laughed excitedly, “who’d of ever thought we’d
run into trolls in these parts. It was a nice shot though, huh?”
“Yes it was,” Pamtax admitted. “You got him right between the
eyes. Dead on the spot.”
“I wish Barkel had seen it. He’s always calling me a lousy
shot.”
“Oh I think Barkel saw it,” Pamtax said.
“Really?” Fred said getting more excited, “where is he?”
“Oh,” Pamtax said somewhat bemused, “that’s him over by the
fire. Disguised as a troll. With a hole in his head.”
“I killed Barkel?” Fred said staring down at the lifeless corpse.
“Well, technically yes,” Pamtax said. “You fired the gun, which
sent the bullet through his brain, which was, most likely, the cause of
death, but he had it coming. I mean, he was dancing around the fire
disguised as a troll. He should have known better.”
“How did he disguise himself as a troll?” Fred asked.
“That’s not important,” Pamtax insisted. “What is important is
how are we going to get him to Raul, the resurrector?”
“Do we have to bring him back to life?” Fred asked.
“Well,” Pamtax said condescendingly, “he is the only one who
knows where the treasure is.”
“But if we bring him back to life he’s gonna kill me,” Fred
whined.
“It’s only fair,” Pamtax said, “you killed him first.”
“Why do I have to carry the body?” Fred asked.
“Because,” Pamtax explained, “you killed him.”
“Yeah, but he stinks. I think he’s beginning to rot.”
“No,” Pamtax mused, “that’s Barkel’s normal smell. I suspect
once he starts to rot he’ll smell a good bit better.”
“Can you make him rot faster?”
“Nah,” he said, “the rotting smell will just attract dragons.”
“D- d- dragons?” Fred stuttered. “Th- there are dragons
here?”
“We are in the Valley of 1000 Dragons? What did you expect to find
here?”
Suddenly a cloud passed over the sun. Both men looked up and saw their
worst nightmare descending from the sky. “Dragon!” they screamed
and then ran for the trees.
“Whew, that was close,” Pamtax panted. “Where is Barkel?”
“Out there with the dragon, I suppose.”
“You left him out there with the dragon?”
Fred looked at Pamtax quizzically, “Was that wrong?”
The two men looked out into the field as the giant dragon fell upon
Barkel’s lifeless corpse. The dragon shoveled Barkel into his mouth,
chewed him up and swallowed him. A few seconds later the dragon began
to hack like a cat with a hairball wedged in his throat. After a moment
of heaving, a chunk of Barkel came flying out of his mouth. Then he
flew away.
The two men made their way over to the dragon’s grizzly dinner scene.
There, in a gob of dragon yuck, sat Barkel’s disembodied foot.
“Well,” said Pamtax, “we don’t technically have to have all of
him. So long as we have some piece of him.”
“Are you sure?” Fred asked, uncertain.
“Well I’m pretty sure!” Pamtax shouted. “It’s not like we
can go ask that dragon to cough up the rest of him, now can we?”
“No I guess not,” Fred fussed. “I just hate to think I lugged
his whole body around when all I really needed was a piece of him.”
“Well, which piece do you suppose you might have chose to remove from
our esteemed leader’s person?” Pamtax asked, becoming irritated.
“I don’t rightly know,” Fred said, “but it would have been a
site smaller than the whole fat thing.”
“Wow,” the buxom but not so bright barmaid Bridget said, bending
over in fro
nt of Fred revealing her ample cleavage, “did you see any
other dragons while you were in the Valley?”
“Um,” Fred stammered, completely mesmerized by her bosoms, “two…
huge ones.”
“Really,” Bridget gasped, “what color were they, red? Green?
I’ve heard there are even some black dragons in the Valley.”
“Pink,” Fred drooled as he imagined touching her soft, pink skin.
“Really?” Bridget said, straightening up, “I’ve never heard of
pink dragons before.”
“What?” Fred said, snapping out of his fantasy world. “What?”
“I said, I’ve never heard of pink dragons like the ones you fought
in the valley. You’re so heroic. Can you come to my room for a
minute?”
“Have a seat on my bed,” Bridget said untying the lace in her
bustier, “I want to show you something I’ve never shown another
man.”
Fred quickly jumped on the bed and waited for Bridget to reveal her
gigantic twin heavens to him. He suppressed a squeal of glee.
“These two beauties haven’t felt the touch of a man since my father
played with them when I was a child,” she said, bending over.
“Excuse me?” Fred said, suddenly uncomfortable and nauseated.
Then Bridget lugged a huge chest out from under her bed, pulled a key
from her blouse, and opened the lock. Inside the chest were two of the
most beautifully crafted swords Fred had ever seen.
“They’re lovely,” Fred said, simultaneously impressed and
profoundly disappointed.
“My father made them,” she said, “he always wanted a son. But I
can be a hero too, I know I can,” she said, growing louder. “And I
will hack to pieces… and devour… any man that tries to stand in my
way!” Her breasts heaved with anger and undirected rage, then
slowly she settled down, smiled and turned to Fred, “Could I join you
and your wizard friend on your adventure?”
Pamtax ogled Bridget from across the bar. “She wants to join our
party?” he asked.
“Um, yes,” Fred said, “and I think she should join. I mean,
I’m just a businessman, and you’ve been a wizard for what, 2
months?”
“Ten years,” Pamtax said.
“Really,” Fred paused. “And you still can’t throw a fire bolt
or lightning bolt?”
“I’m working on it,” he snapped, and then there was silence as
they both watched Bridget. “Man,” Pamtax said, “I’d like to see
what she keeps in her treasure chest.”
“She showed ‘em to me last night,” Fred boasted, knowing that
Pamtax would misunderstand.
“Really?” the wizard asked. “She showed you her…”
“Treasures,” Fred interrupted, “Yeah, she let me play with ‘em
too.”
“You’re a liar,” he said suspiciously. He took a long drink of
his beer and returned to staring at Bridget. “Did she really?”
“Anyway,” Fred continued, “Barkel’s dead and we need a warrior
in case we should run into trouble.”
“But we’re going to resurrect Barkel,” Pamtax said.
“But what if we can’t find Raul the Resurrector? We don’t even
know where to look for him.”
“Look for whom?” Bridget interrupted as she sat down with the
guys.
“Raul the Resurrector,” Pamtax said.
“Oh, his house is just next door,” she said.
“Great,” Fred said, “let’s go!”
“Well,” she continued, “he’s probably not there. I suspect
he’s already down at the square by now.”
“Why is he at the square?”
“That’s where they’re hanging him today.”
Fred and Pamtax ran to the town square to save Raul the Resurrector.
Bridget followed behind. When they reached the square the town crier
was calling to order. “Hear Ye! Hear Ye! Gather around to witness
the hanging of the Letch King!”
“The Letch King,” Fred said, “why do they call him that?”
“Because,” Bridget said, “he’s a filthy old bastard.”
“I see,” Fred said with a perplexed look about him.
“Among other nasty pranks he pulls, he has this formula that he likes
to give that makes a woman forget herself and want to sleep with
him.”
“So the town is mad because he makes his own beer?” Pamtax asked.
“It’s worse than beer,” she said, “a stout woman can take her
beer. No woman can resist this formula. She will do whatever the man
asks.”
“I see,” Pamtax said and pondered for a moment. “Do you know
where we can get some of this formula… for study?”
Pamtax, Fred, and Bridget rushed over to Raul who was waiting in the
stocks for his execution.
“Are you Raul the Resurrector?” Pamtax asked.
“I am,” he snapped. He looked around the group and stopped at
Bridget. “Hey baby,” he said, “what can I do to you?”
“Actually,” Bridget said, ignoring his comment, “a member of our
party has died and we need you to resurrect him.”
“You have a stiff huh?” he said, “what a coincidence, so have
I,” and he burst into laughter.
“Can you help us or not, old man,” Fred said.
“Let me see the stiff,” he responded between laughs.
Fred reached into his bag and pulled out the foot of Barkel. As soon
as he saw it Raul started laughing all the harder. He laughed and
laughed until the guards pulled him out of the stocks and marched him to
the scaffold. He laughed and laughed as the hang man pulled the lever
and he fell through the trap door, and hanged to death.
The group watched as Raul wiggled and squirmed, and gurgled his last
gurgle. “Well,” Pamtax said, “any other resurrectors in town?”
“No,” Bridget said, “the only other wizard I know of for miles
and miles is Haggis the Nasty. He lives about 3 days north of here on
the Plane of the Turd. Legend has it that an ancient giant came to the
area and defecated right on him, giving him eternal life. It is said
that Haggis wishes to share his good fortune with all who visit him, by
making them eat of the…”
“Ok, ok,” Fred interrupted. “Just take us there so we can get it
over with.”
“Or,” she said, “we could just wait until tomorrow.”
“What happens tomorrow?” Pamtax asked.
“Tomorrow morning, as the sun rises, Raul the Resurrector rises from
the dead. We could ask him to resurrect Barkel then.”
“Oh yeah,” Fred and Pamtax agreed, “let’s do that then.”
“Well,” said Fred, “if we have until tomorrow morning to waste,
shall we head back to the bar?”
“Sounds good to me,” Pamtax agreed, and the three adventurers went
off for a beer.
The local Brewmeister was particularly skilled at his trade. Fred, and
Pamtax enjoyed their beverage so much that they had another, and
eventually another. Quickly the clarity of sobriety was drowned in an
amber ocean of boastful declarations of skill and prowess, and pointless
stories that meandered off into the dark night.
“Wake Up!” Bridget yelled. “Wake up, for the fifth time this
morning, wake up!”
Pamtax and Fred rubbed their eyes and gently scratched their heads.
“What going on?” Fred asked.
“I’ve woken you guys up four times this morning. Now they’ve
caught Raul again and they are about to hang him again.”
The two men very clumsily jumped out of bed, grabbed Barkel’s foot,
and ran down to the square in time to watch Raul hang by the neck.
“Well rats,” Fred said and looked down at Barkel’s decaying foot.
“Who’s up for another round?”
A week passed with Fred, Pamtax, and Bridget drinking their nights away
and waking up far too late to save Raul. After their seventh failure
they decided to stop trying to save him, as it was breaking large gaps
in their inebriation. Three more weeks passed, or so they were told,
when their money ran out.
“Right,” Pamtax said, “tomorrow we will save Raul and have him
resurrect Barkel.”
“But what shall we do for dinner tonight?” Fred asked.
“What happened to our dried beef?”
“We gave it to Bridget a couple of nights ago in exchange for her
showing us her bossoms.”
“Yes,” Pamtax moaned, “I wish I could remember that.”
“Me too,” said Fred.
“Well, I’m sure it was well worth it. Tonight we eat grass.
Except for Bridget, she’ll have beef.”
The next morning Fred, Pamtax, and Bridget woke up bright and early and
made their way to Raul’s resurrection stone. As the first rays of
sunlight fell on the rock, the astral image of Raul began to appear and
solidify. “Ahh,” he said, “’tis the hot chick and the two
fruits with the foot.”
“We’re not gay,” Fred protested.
“Not yet,” Raul said. “Now, what can I do for you?”
“We need you to resur
rect our leader,” Bridget said.
“I’d love to, but I’ll need more than a foot. I need the whole
body to resurrect the whole body.”
“But he’s in the belly of a giant dragon,” Fred complained.
“Then it looks like you have a dragon to kill,” Raul said.
“The good news,” Raul said, “is that dragons cannot digest human
bones. The bad news is dragons usually leave their dropping within
their lair. However, if you can sneak in while the dragon is asleep,
you may be able to get your leader’s bones without waking the
wyrm.”
“But how will we find the dragon?” Bridget asked.
“I believe there is a tracker in town. He may be able to help.”
“Would you come with us?” Pamtax asked.
“I’m afraid I wouldn’t make it past the first day. See, whether
I live or I die, every morning I am resurrected here on this rock. So
I’d much rather stay here in town, and perchance, get a little
booty.”
“There he is!” a distant voice yelled.
“Well, I must be going,” Raul said and bolted into the woods.
“I told you we needed the whole body,” Fred said, and tossed
Barkel’s foot on the bar.
“No you didn’t. You asked if we needed it.”
“Yeah, and you said we didn’t. Now we have a leader in the belly
of a dragon which is who knows where!”
“Excuse me madam,” a suave, burly voice interrupted, “my name is
Fjord, Fjord the Pathfinder. It sounds as if you are in need of a
tracker.”
“Well, yes,” Fred said, “but I’m not a woman.”
“That is a pity,” Fjord said, licking his lips. He eyed Fred while
rubbing his stubbly chin, “are you certain?”
“Yes!”
“Of course you are! How dare I insinuate otherwise. It was
disgraceful of me. You are obviously a man, even if a petite, long
haired, sweet smelling one. So, do you need a tracker or not?”
“So,” Fjord said, “what exactly do you need me to track? I can
track people, game, dwarves, fairies, goblins, trolls, anything!”
“How about elves?” Pamtax asked.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Fjord said, “there’s no such thing as
elves. What do you think this is, fantasy land? But if they existed, I
could track them. I can track anything. Anything at all, from gnomes
to ghosts, I can track it.”
“How about a giant pink dragon?” Fred asked.
“Except a giant pink dragon,” Fjord said dejectedly. “It is the
one beast that has eluded me all of my life.”
“How about a dead body,” Bridgett interrupted, “could you track a
dead body for us?”
“Oh, now that is easy. I want you all to think very hard.
Concentrate. Now, where is the last place you remember leaving the
body?”
“In the belly of a giant pink dragon,” said Fred.
“So,” Raul said, “what is so important about this Barkel, that
you would take on a giant, pink dragon to save his corpse?”
“Well,” Fred said, choosing his words carefully, “Barkel knows
the location of something special to us.”
“Ahh, a treasure. But surely it is more than just treasure. You
could take on a red dragon, or a black dragon, and have plenty more
treasure than you could ever spend in a lifetime. And you’d be far
more likely to survive. I’m afraid I can’t help. I’d rather live
a little longer.”
“Ok,” Pamtax said, “but this must be kept absolutely secret.”
“You have my word,” Raul assured him.
“Barkel told us, before he died, that he knew the exact location of
the treasure of Bezel Bedezzle.”
P
provoke_me
Guest
oh dear...
now i have 2 stories that i cant wait to find out what happens next. thisone...and Matt Varnish P.I.
now i have 2 stories that i cant wait to find out what happens next. thisone...and Matt Varnish P.I.
that man has no neck
Charles Gray aka Narrator I believe says he can be of assistance in The Rocky Horror Picture Show. If that is correct, in lieu of a cookie, I would appreciate if you could give me some votes and feedback on my painting. The english accent gave it away. And BTW, how many does it take to be rated? My minis are here, here, and here Well, I hope the hyperlink thing was done properly. Cheers.
Charles Gray aka Narrator I believe says he can be of assistance in The Rocky Horror Picture Show. If that is correct, in lieu of a cookie, I would appreciate if you could give me some votes and feedback on my painting. The english accent gave it away. And BTW, how many does it take to be rated? My minis are here, here, and here Well, I hope the hyperlink thing was done properly. Cheers.
ipaintminis
Active member
I WANT BARKEL BACK!
his story was inticing
his posts witty
and his jokes amusing
come back Barkel!!!!lol
his story was inticing
his posts witty
and his jokes amusing
come back Barkel!!!!lol
U
U4-Welcome
Guest
Wrong y\'all, it\'s David Bowie in Zoolander. *munches on cookie*
