The quest for the Scroll of Forum Resurrection

*I put a poster which said"Looking for adventurers.Cool quest.Unimaginable treasures.The best there is company.And the last but not the least the resurrection of this forum!"Then I ordered a "Bloody Merry", sit down by the table and started reading a book about rear scrolls.*

 

I wandered the streets of Tarant searching for my next adventure. The sweet memories of Madame Lil's swirled in my brain like a heady vapor. I felt lethargic and bloated. I had eaten too much mutton. I pulled a tuft of wool from my ear and sauntered over to one of the city's many Community Affairs boards.
There was the message I was looking for, an offering of fame and riches for the man with a brave heart and few Scruples. I had few Scruples left, because of the ruinous exchange rate between Scruples and the Tarantian coin.
Unfortunately, the poster I read gave no evidence of the whereabouts of its author. I turned on my heel, pirouetted, and headed for the nearest pub.

 

Hello fellow adventurer!I see you are interested in my poster.I am the one looking for companions.So will you be coming with me?
...
Well of course we need more companions.One or two more.I hope we'll meet some more during our journey.

 

Well met, fellow! I am Feldon Kane, wanderer, adventurer and lover of shee...b-ewe-tiful women.
Perhaps if we placed copies of your poster in other parts of the city we would find more brave souls to aid in our cause.

 

Struggling the last couple of miles on the ruins of my Locomunator was almost more than I could manage, but the glare in the sky over blessed Tarant enticed me ever on like a Wisp.

Then suddenly the last rise was behind me and there she was, nestled in the hills like the glimmering gem I'd left nesting in Ioo's Mum's bodice; Tarant. I coasted downwards to the gate while my spirit soared into the familiar haze above. Scratch yapped at me as I whizzed past, and his spooky mother glared, but I didn't care. I was home.

Vaguely regretting giving up my place at Old Barnacle's, and not wanting to end up in that pit they call the flophouse, I decided that a room was the first order of business.

Maybe once I was settled I'd look up Feldon and see if he'd married that bot of fluff he was always spending his Scruples on.

 

My new companion was, apparently, a bit slow. He didn't identify himself right away, and I began to wonder if this was the man to help me gain more fame and fortune.
In the distance, from the direction of the Gypsy encampment, I heard a familiar sound.
"Could it be?" I wondered. "Is it ewe?"

 

Careering through the cobbled streets, I was perhaps more concerned with keeping my teeth from jarring out of my mouth than keeping a steady course. Assailed by the usual cries of astonishment, fear and anger I registered a few inns as their signs zipped by, but didn't spot any soon enough to make stopping at them an option. I resolved (again) to investigate the possibilities of a braking system not quite so reliant on distance and shoe leather.

Then, without realising how I got there, I seemed to be in a cul de sac, with a dead-end rushing toward me intent on bodily harm. As panic gripped bowels and brain alike, I must have somehow noted the alley, because my hands jerked the handlebars and my body leant hard to the left.

Miraculously unscathed, I was clear into a narrow alley. I had a few heart beats of relief before I spotted the two figures drunkenly sauntering towards me, blissfully unaware of unordered parcel of momentum about to be delivered. This time there was no hope of avoiding collision. As I braced, I thought I recognised one of the unfortunates.

"F-" I cried at the moment of impact, as my hips caught the handlerbars and my nether regions were crushed to jelly.

"-eldon, is that you?" I finished doggedly from my corner of the agonised heap we had become, while some other - more obsessive - part of my mind wondered whether that oaf Appleby would have the parts needed to fix my Locomunator.

 

My silent companion and I decided to slip into an alley to discuss our adventure in utter privacy. There is little privacy in the streets of Tarant. There are always the people in their rags and their finery. Whining beggars and skulking thieves. Swarthy, sweaty stevedores. Livestock.
There could be no denying it: I was becoming aroused.
As I speculatively eyed my enigmatic new friend I noticed that sound again. It was growing louder by the second. The last time I'd heard that sound I had nearly lost a testicle. But surely that sort of thing could never happen again...
I turned just in time to be hit head on by a wildly careering vehicle. My compatriot and I were knocked to the ground, while the driver of the contraption was thrown on top of us. The vehicle continued on over us and plowed into the wall, where it ceased its growling.
"By all the Bath Towels of Bathsheeba!" I roared, staggering to my feet and drawing my sword. "I shall carve my initials into...well, slather my shortcake. Sheriff! Why, I haven't seen you since that unfortunate raid on the Tower of Opie. Are you recovered and ready for more adventure? My quiet friend and I are making plans for one now. Explain our plans, quiet friend!"

 

Accross town a small party of halflings disembark from the express recently arrived at Tarant Station. Only an experienced eye would note them as being apart from the throngs of halflings in town for the annual 'Culinary Arts Exhibit'.

 

I noticed that I seem quite to you my friend.I apologize for that.So now I will introduce myself.I am Andrew Scott, a magician from Tulla.Some people call me Andrew the wanderer or Andrew the RPG Maniac :smile: but you can call me just Andrew.
About the quest.I think we should travel to Tulla and look for information there.
And now would you be kind Feldon and introduce me to your friend ?
*After my speech I started rubbing my head which was still sore from the impact*

 

"Perhaps it would be best if he introduced himself, as I am never sure how much he's willing to reveal, or on which side of the law he is treading."
I turned to my old comrade and asked a question that had been tickling my brain since I had recognized him.
"Are you back for the Culinary Arts Exhibit?"

 

Culinar arts exibit?What's that?

 

"Being from Tulla, Andrew, perhaps you are not aware of one of the grandest annual events in Tarant: the Culinary Arts Exhibit.
Thousands gather for it, and many pies are baked. The finest chefs of every race display their gastronomical delights. I would stay away from the Half-ogre pavillion if I were you. They use some...unusual ingredients."

 

So would you like to stay for the exibit?

 

"It wouldn't hurt to have a cook along on our quest. I have always appreciated Halfling feasts. Perhaps there are some Halflings about looking for adventure. But before we can do anything else, I suggest you and my old comrade here become acquainted."

 

I see your friend here is a little shy.Encourage him if you may.

 

(Note, this is my first attempt on this forum. Be gentle :smile.

Standing at my pie stand, I noticed several travellers talking quietly nearby. They looked a litte rough for wear, as though they'd just been in an accident.

"Greetings. Would you like to try a pie? Made from the finest ingredients this side of the Hadrian! Only a few coins each!".

I hate pies personally (I cook a mean orc casserole though) but this Culinary Arts Exhibit was the perfect cover...

_________________
"Some things in life you can't help, the rest you can avoid"

"We will either find a way or make one" - Hannibal

<font size=-1>[ This Message was edited by: Jarinor on 2001-12-02 23:26 ]</font>

 

Oh yes a pie.How much for one?

 

"Just two gold coins good sir!"

 

Then I'll take two, please. Feldon, would you like one?

_________________
Ahhhhh...fresh meat...

<font size=-1>[ This Message was edited by: Maniac on 2001-12-03 04:51 ]</font>