Date: June 9th, 2000
It was a dark and stormy night my friends. We were a group of adventurers seeking our fame and fortune among the Runnyeye Clan. The plan was to rendezvous in Rivervale, the town of the little folk. Many of us faced perils beyond imagination in order to make it to this destination. Doel Telamon, the great northern shaman, was one of the unfortunate few of our guild that never made it. It is said she was ripped from our universe into some unknown world. Desperately she tried to regain access to our realm but to no avail. Hopefully she has found the path that will lead her back to us. Our prayers are with you Doel Telamon.
The rest of us, my lovely bride to be Mysstie Wolfestar whose generosity and compassion are unsurpassed, Jinnikinic Leornian with his mercurial grin and wisdom, Mannator the brave and fearless, and myself made our way from Rivervale. Through the night we traveled with the darkness as our protection. We passed through Misty Thicket, sidestepping many perils along the way.
We approached the gates of the mighty citadel and could see numerous guards watching the entrance. Fortunately a band of local inhabitants appeared from nowhere to distract them long enough for us to slip buy. Whew, that was close. We were in search of the infamous Warlord. It was rumored that he could be found deep within the bowels of the fortress. Fortunately I had come across a secret map in my travels telling of a safe passageway to his rooms.
We made our way through the dark and mysterious corridors. In the distance could be heard the creaking of doors opening and closing, the gutteral speech of the Runnyeye Goblins, and the vile casting of spells by evil eyes and dazed shaman. Slowly we walked, checking each corner and intersection as we passed. Further and further we traveled. Deeper and deeper into the heart of the Clan. Along the way we met an ally, a caster of sorts. He too had heard of the great treasures to be found within the walls of the fortress. We welcomed him to our company needing all the help we could get. After encountering a few minor skirmishes along the way, we finally made it to our destination. The Warlord Room.
We sat in wait for our victim. For when we entered the room it was empty. With swords loosened and spells at the ready, we waited. Then the door started to open. Was it he? Was it the Warlord at long last? No, it was my long time friend and companion Lalloran Griffonclaw. What a surprise, another ally to help vanquish our foe. Just in time too. For no sooner had Lalloran joined our group than who should show up but the Warlord himself with some of his goons in tow. The battle was fast and furious. No sooner had it started than was over. All that was left was the smoldering remains of our prey. The casters had done their jobs well. And, we were all still alive to tell about it.
"That did not seem too bad" someone told the group (I think it was me, heheh).
"As long as we are here, we might as well check on the treasures in the throne room" said another. (This might have been me also)
Unfortunately, the Runnyeye Clan had a different idea. Apparently our battle with the Warlord had been overheard. For as we entered the outer chamber, an ambush was sprung. Goblins!!! Goblins!!! Goblins, everywhere!!! Too many to count. Too many to battle. Valiantly we fought. Manator fell with three goblins on him at once. The unknown caster was next, and then Jinnikinic. "There is too many of them!" I shouted. "Canít heal fast enough!" Arrggghhh!!! Not Mysstie too. My blood ran cold and all I could see was the red of blood everywhere and the furry in my eyes. Lalloran and I were the only ones left. We stood back to back, swords and axes hacking here, slashing there, parrying everywhere. Vengeance would be ours. On an on we fought until we could fight no more. Finally it was over. Not a goblin was left. The floor was littered with bodies. The walls covered with blood.
Moral of the story, Runnyeye is a nasty place. Watch the trains. Chooo, chooo! Heheh.
Ranger of the 31 Season
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