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/tg/ - Traditional Games

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We move fast now, going through the passages as fast as my nose can follow the trail. The scent is slowly growing stronger now, though I have to backtrack a few times. Evidently the ones we are tracking spent a lot longer wandering around down here, but thankfully we can use their work to just follow them to wherever they went.

“It occurs to me,” I say after taking another sniff, “that the reason that we were sent here was to rescue people. And people only need rescuing if something bad has happened to them.”

“This is all true Solaron. What is your point?” Sloane asks, watching the corners.

“Well,” I continue, “if they ran into danger, which prevented them from leaving the tomb, and we follow their tracks, then is it not logical to assume that we will encounter whatever has stopped them from leaving?”

Sloane raises his sword and mutters a quiet prayer to Pelor.

“Perhaps, but what choice do we have, we are not leaving these people down here to die, press forward.”

I nod and return to my tracking.
Yay, it begins.

Also, I found a shiny new badge for out OP image!
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its fitting, pic unrelated

That's about how I feel right now.

Grabbing food, will be back and try to banish cobwebs in my head in a minute.
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well bump till you get back

We move in swift silence after that, moving through the dusty tomb as fast as I can track the scent, which is getting easier the further we go. Eventually I am able to discern multiple scents in the trail, and tell Sloane as much. It’s only a few individuals though, so it is unlikely that this is the entirety of the group we have been sent to rescue. We wind our way down another stairwell and into a different section of the Tomb. It is more intact down here, no cave ins that we can see and more side rooms.

Then I hear a faint sound in the distance, a sort of clicking noise. I hold up a hand, stopping the party, shushing Sloane when he tries to talk. I listen hard, hoping that I was mistaken, but then I hear it again a kind of click-scrape. Something is moving along the stone corridors, though what I cannot tell. I gaze deeply into the darkness beyond the light of the lantern, but I might as well have been looking at a solid wall so thick is the darkness.

I listen again, hearing something, something animate moving our way. I flick the air with a forked tongue and try to scent them, anything to tell which way they are coming from.

“Solaron!” Sloane hisses, looking around, “What can you smell?”

The sound is coming from all directions now, though whether we are surrounded or it simply echoes I cannot tell. I scent the air again, and I cannot smell anything but us, the faint trail upon the ground, and the smell of the tomb all around us.

“I cannot smell anything new.” I whisper. “I only smell us and…”

Dread realization hits me as the sound draws very close.

“Old death.” I say as the first of the animate skeletons shamble into our radius of light.

That's adorable.
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thanks but I don't have many more. well of cats anyway.

“To arms!” Sloane shouts somewhat unnecessarily, brandishing his bastard sword as the first of the shambling horrors closes to melee range. I lash out at it with my saber, strong steel cutting into old bone, cracking it in a cloud of dust. If a broken arm in any way phases the creature attacking me it does not show it, simply walking forward with even, purposeful steps before swinging at me with an ancient rusty sword. I easily dodge its slow attack, but quickly drop back a pace as three of its fellows come to join the fray.

The skeletons are not in any way good fighters, lacking even the most basic expertise or ability. But what they lack in skill they make up for in determination, attacking heedless of the damage they might incur, constant methodical forward march only stopping when that skeleton is too damaged to continue moving. Beside me Sloane chops a skeleton in half and crushes the skull of the still moving torso with his boot.

“By Pelor, is there no end to these creatures?”

“It would seem not!” I say, parrying another blow, surprisingly swift coming from a dusty skeleton.

“They attack from this side as well.” Galen says, facing down against another crowd of skeletons. With a word of power and a motion he sends a few of them clattering to the floor, nothing but piles of dusty bones. But their companions simply step over the remains and continue forwards.

Bony hands reach out for me, I hack them off at the wrist only for the creatures owning them to continue their relentless attack. These creatures had no blood to bleed, no care for whether they lived or died, they simply wished to see us dead for whatever reason drove them forwards.

The ground is covered in broken and brittle bones, the thoughtless tread of the walking dead pressing us back. With sword and staff we press them back, knowing that to be cornered in this catacomb means certain death, but what more can we do? As soon as one falls more simply step out of the shadows to replace them. This must be what happened to the people we were sent to rescue. Will they send anyone to look for us? Or will they simply bury the tomb with us inside and forget this ever happened. Sloane looks to me as the undead press forward.

“Solaron, your heart is true and your soul pure, I am sorry I ever doubted you.”

I nod. “And I am sorry I called you a stuck up, arrogant bastard with delusions of grandeur.”

Sloane looks at me, disbelieving. “You never called me that.”

“Well you were asleep at the time.” I reply.

Sloan thinks about it for a second, nods and shrugs, and goes back to fighting the horde.
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After the shenanigans that went down last thread I got inspired and drew a thing I hope you guys like it
let me know if I fucked up anything and ill try to fix it

I chop at a skeleton and cleave its ribcage in two, but another comes out of the shadows and slashes me, a long cut down my side. I howl in pain and send it flying in a dozen pieces with a bash from my tail, before spinning and decapitating another trying to get the drop on me. I’m bleeding from a few various cuts and gashes now, some on my arms, others on my body and tail. The swords of the skeletons are not very sharp, but they cut well enough.

“Pelor light my path.” Sloane mutters as they press upon him, scrabbling bones and rusty blades. Then I hear something other than the sounds of desperate battle. In fact, it sounds like someone shouting, one long hard yell getting closer and closer.

Then I see bits and pieces of dry skeleton start flying from the darkness, before the skeletons are bowled aside by what looks to be a steel bowling ball with an axe, and a beard. The dwarf comes skidding to a stop inside our defensive line, hacking another skeleton apart with his double bladed axe.

“Come on lads!” He shouts back the way he came, “Thar’s still a few livin’ ones over here!”

I see a light in the dark tunnel ahead of me, growing closer. Two figures are running along, a tall figure in flowing garments, and a shorter one in form fitting body armor. The latter rushes forwards into the fight, two large knives in hand, dancing through the ranks of the undead.

“Forward!” Sloane shouts, “Join forces in the middle!”
Thats awesome

This is the most wonderful thing anyone has done for me in months.

I am beyond words, this is beyond spectacular for me.

There is nothing I can possibly say to convey my thanks for this.
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Someone put this up on the 1d4chan page.

We press forward with the strength of the truly desperate, reducing the skeletons before us to nothing more than dust and splintered bone. The figure in the flowing robes raises the staff to the ceiling.

“Everyone down!”

We hit the deck as a sudden blast of heat shoots out around us, a ring of fire emanating from the spinning wizard staff, reducing the skeletons to char and ash, before the staff falls to the ground with a clatter, the figure slumping in exhaustion. I catch the wizard, and finally get a good look at our savior. If the fair features and long ears are anything to go by, this is an elf. Fairly thin and light as well, so female then.

“Thank you.” I say.

“Don’t mention it.” She says in an exhausted voice, “And don’t expect any more, I’m spent.”

“I don’t think we’ll need it right now.” Galen says, looking around at the ruined skeletons. “Now please, you all look tired and injured, allow me to help.”

The cleric rushes over to lay on hands.

Seriously, this is magnificent.

As Galen is healing the newcomers, they tell us the story of how they came to be in this sorry state. It turns out that they are indeed the previous party of mercenaries hired to retrieve the missing archeologists. Upon reaching this level of the tomb they were attacked by the skeletons and forced to flee, becoming lost in the catacombs in the process. Once they heard the sounds of our battle they ran towards us, hoping that their luck had finally turned.

“And a damn good thing you lads were here.” Says Buri, the dwarven warrior. “We’d all be in a right sorry state this time tomorrow without backup.”

“Or food and water for that matter!” Says the smallish human, who is apparently some form of rogue.

“We have more important things than food to worry about.” Says Sal’vir, the elven wizard.

“Like getting out of here alive.” She finishes.

“What the tree dweller is trying to say.” Says Buri, “Is that we have still got to finish our mission. We never did find what happened to the people we were sent to rescue, and a warrior of the Storm Riders does not leave a job half finished.” He glares at the wizard. “Isn’t that right, elf?”

“Of course.” Says Sal’vir in a small voice.


Sorry for the longer wait, I keep spending time staring at that picture.

BRB, going to walk the dog.
I return, let the story continue.

‘Agreed.” Sloane nods. “Our task is clear, we cannot abandon these people regardless of the danger.”

“Besides.” I say, “With the six of us together, nothing should be able to stand up for long.”

Galen nods. “Yes. By the way, I am Galen and this is Sloane, both of the temple of Pelor. And this,” he indicates me, “Is Solaron, adventurer and storyteller from far away.”

Buri snorts. “So long as you don’t stab me in the back I don’t much care where you come from snake, just watch yourself around me and do your job.”

“I assure you Solaron is most trustworthy.” Sloane says, “Do not allow his appearance to deceive you, as it did me.”

Buri grunts again.

“Right, well now that your cleric has got us back in fighting trim, what do you lads say we go and rescue some lost fools?”

“That’s why we are here.” Sloane assures him.

Our wounds healed, we set out again through the dark catacomb. I slither slowly along the floor, checking for any sign of someone other than the group we just met passing by, any hint of scent or footprint in the dust of the ages. Sadly nothing yet but I remain optimistic. We pass a few other empty rooms, nothing of interest for a long while. Finally, after sneezing a few times from the dust, I catch a hint of something other than the various individuals behind me. I motion for the party to hang back as I slither out further to get away from them so that I can focus on the scent before me.

It is very faint, very old. It is, I think it’s human. Oh yes, several humans in a group, moving together. That’s why the scent seems so muddled and indistinct, a fair sized party passed through here some time ago. I hurry back to the party and tell them the good news before heading back to follow the scent in earnest, deeper into the catacomb. As before, the scent grows stronger and stronger as we go, we must be getting closer to wherever the archeologists went.

Eventually the scent leads to a side room where it seemed that the expedition had set up a small camp, bits of food and goblets sitting out on ancient stone tables. We search around for a bit, looking for anything of interest, Galen finding a field journal of some kind, and sitting down to examine it for any clues. I find nothing of interest to me, though it seems that Sloane and Buri have taken great interest in how various objects are strewn around.

“Yes, this is where they were attacked.” Sloane says, examining a broken goblet on the floor.

“Aye lad,” says Buri, “Attacked and either forced to flee or dragged off into the tomb.”

With nothing other than that sobering thought for comfort, we took up temporary residence in the abandoned camp for some much needed rest as Galen examines the journal.
>Awright, let's take a look at-
>Fuck, this thing looks awful. It could definitely use a redesign.
>...Where the hell do I start?
Suddenly I'm wishing I hadn't drunk all that vodka earlier. Welp, time to get to work. Page'll probably look a bit bare while I'm figuring out what to do with it.

Maybe a more descriptive opening blurb and put the character concept at the top rather than the bottom.

and the caption for the picture should be "Solaron in all his naive scaly glory."

Might be a bit slow for a while, having a text conversation with college D&D group.

There is little real rest to be had in the tomb, the unnatural stillness of the air keeping us all on guard. Except for the diminutive rogue, who is sleeping like a rock. Eventually Galen finds something useful for our quest, though he does not seem very happy about it.

“I have grim tidings.” He says over the snores of the rogue. We all huddle around to hear the bad news.

“It seems that this is the tomb of a powerful wizard and necromancer, who locked himself in this sanctum many years ago. There are few records of his activities from that time remaining, indeed I have heard only rumors about him, one Malchiron, though what I do know if him suggests that he was a malevolent figure to the people living here at the time. If some of his power yet lingers in this tomb, and after all this time it has been opened…”

He didn’t need to finish that statement for us to know what he meant.

“Then it seems we have two objectives now.” Sloane says, “To rescue the missing archeologists and stop whatever evil power yet lingers here from threatening the nearby populace.”

Nobody seemed to want to argue with Sloane when he had his ‘Holy Warrior’ voice on again.
Looks like things are starting to get serious. If they succeed, Sol's going to be over the moon when he has a chance to rest, reflect and realise what he's just done.

Oh yeah, he's on a real adventure now.
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We roused the rogue and set out after that, none of us particularly wishing to linger here for a moment longer than was needed. The passages were mostly intact down this far, and I find the scent of the archeologists fairly easy to track now, we must be getting close. Eventually we turn a corner and see what appears to be a crowd of statues in the middle of the corridor, cast in the act of walking along. Curious, I start to slither over and investigate, but I feel a hand on my shoulder holding me back.

“Wait!” Says Sal’vir, jerking me back.

“That is a magical trap, a stasis field.”

We shine our lanterns on the group of ‘statues’ and see that they are not statues but people. Frozen in a moment of time, the archeological expedition is running along the corridor away from some long gone danger.

“Is there anything that can be done for them?” Galen asks, his face sad.

“I can undo the spell long enough for them to escape.” Sal’vir says, “But I do not have the spell prepared, we must wait until tomorrow to save them.

“Aye, an’ meanwhile this tomb o’ horrors is still crawling with the living dead.” Says Buri, “Need to sort that out first before we can get these poor sods out of here.”

Sloane nods. “Yes, we must remove the danger before we get them out, many more lives than just theirs are at risk until we clear out this tomb.”

With a little searching we find a way around that seems clear of magical traps.

“Wait!” Says Blake, the rogue.

Frowning in annoyance, I stop in my track once again.

“Just because there is no magical traps, doesn’t mean there isn’t a mundane one. I shall go first.”

“Your bravery is commendable.” Sloane says respectfully.

“The little git just wants to loot the tomb before we get there.” Bui says.

Blake proceeds slowly, creeping along the floor, carefully placing each step in some arcane pattern I can only hazard a guess at. He fiddles with rock outcroppings, pokes the seams between stones with a long knife, leaps across seemingly ordinary bits of floor, and finally makes it to the other end of the passage.

“All clear!” He shouts, “Just don’t step on that patch there, it gives me bad feelings. “I’ll go and scout ahead!” he says before vanishing around a corner.

“Oh you’ll do nothing of the kind!” Buri says barreling after him. A moment later the dwarf came back around the corner, dragging the rogue by the scruff of his neck.

We crossed the corridor without incident and continued onwards.

Calling it here.

Sorry for the slow day, didn't sleep well and was tired all day.

Will try to write more tomorrow.
Thanks for writing, OP. More Sol is always a good way to brighten my day,

I updated the wiki page as well. Let me know how terrible it is when you get the chance?

Looks pretty good so far. I will find some time to go and flesh out the blurbs about the party members, I know their backgrounds which I keep forgetting to write into the actual story.

This is me, forgot nametag.

Tweaked it a bit.
While tese stories are interesting, Solaron and for that matter are too human and modern, and very Eurocentric. It really detaches me from the story.

The first part of Solaron made little indication about the Yuan-ti. You could have replaced everyone as a human and little to nothing would have changed. I don't like that but it is a matter of personal taste. I prefer a little inhuman in my non-humans.
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Bump for adventure.
>Sol is human in reptile skin

This! No inhumanness! I didn`t know what was bugging me and thats it.
But what would his inhuman behavior be? He has venom glands and can do some constricting, but I'm no expert on reptiles and Yuan-Ti.

Maybe his approach to sex? Reptilians strike me as an utilitarian ppl, impregnate the female and let her take care of the eggs. No hot, sticky lovemaking.

Also, I kinda wished they met Sandwich.
I'll put down the two classic always pointed out ones before I hit the hay for you then. Heat regulation problems, what with usually being some flavor of near cold blooded, and dietary differences, what with being some flavor of mostly snake.


Also, being sentient creatures Yuan Ti can do do get it on simply for pleasure and do mate for love, though this is not all the time.

They are a more calculating race than most mammalian species. Not entirely evil in this setting, but they will gladly topple empires and kill anyone they think necessary to further their own plans, they are quite sociopath when dealing with others. Sol is an anomaly here, largely because he never paid attention or cared when he was being raised to be a good little plotting, backstabbing serpent.

As for in-humanness, thus far he has identified people through scent rather than sight or sound, been tracking scent trails like a bloodhound rather than more 'traditional' forms of tracking. I have also mentioned multiple times how he loves to bask in anything warm, where others would prefer to walk in the shade. IE, how he always stayed in the hot sunlight while traveling rather than sticking to the treeline.

I also made reference to him gulping down food rather than eating it like a humanoid, though I did not explain that in depth. Though I did show that his preferred method of fishing was laying in the river crocodile-style and swallowing fish whole.

Any suggestions you have would be appreciated.

After that we face no real resistance for some time. We occasionally encounter a skeleton, or a small group of them, but they are hacked apart easily enough and we continue through the tomb relatively unimpeded. Nevertheless, we peeked around every corner and often stopped to let Blake check the ground ahead for traps, sometimes skirting around a suspicious bit of floor. Finally, after all our travel and work, we finally arrived at what seemed to be a fairly important structure. On the other end of a wide hallway a large set of double doors was set into the wall, flanked on either side by large stone statues of armored figures, swords resting point down before them.

“Sal’vir, do you detect anything?” Sloane asks.

The elf gazes long and hard at the corridor, muttering quietly.

“I do not detect anything magical in the corridor, though there is a strange aura emanating from that end of the corridor, by the door.”

Sloane nods. “Then best be careful.”

Blake grins mischievously, “Bet stand back, it’s my turn to go to work!”

And with that he is off, traversing the corridor in his usual cautious hopping creep.

“So, has he ever actually found a trap?” Sloane asks Buri.

“Oh all the time.” Buri says, “If you feel like believing him and waiting while he runs off to loot everything before you can get there.”

“Then why do you still listen to him?” The paladin asks.

“One time we didn’t and had I stood a foot taller would have lost my head to a scythe blade. Easier to just relieve the little git of his spoils rather than trying to find traps on our own.”

Sloane makes a noncommittal noise when Blake finally reaches the far end of the passage.
Sandwich is probably Sandwich Stoutaxe a drow raised by dorfs who became a paladin, i think. It's been a while. Check sup/tg/ or 1d4chan for more.

“Looks clear guys, just watch those odd colored stones over there and you should be fine.” He shouts back, “I’m just going to check this door here and clear the next room of traps okay!”

Buri sets off across the passage after Blake, who is already turning the handle on the door. He tries to push it in, but something resists his attempt. Then I hear a low grinding noise, stone upon stone. I look around but don’t see anything moving, Buri has stopped dead in his tracks. Then I notice the statues. Rather than looking straight ahead as they had done, they now were looking down at the rogue attempting to go through the door.

“Blake get out of there!” Sloane yells, but too late. A great stone hand reaches down and grabs the rogue, hurling him end over end out into the corridor. The two stone figures raise their swords and march forward, stone steps echoing loudly in the confined corridor. I dart forward and grab Blake, who seems quite dazed by his trip, and pull him back to the rest of the party.

“Break up two and two!” Sloane shouts, “Buri with me, Sol you help Sal’vir, Galen see to Blake!” The two warriors brandish their weapons and rush to engage the nearest stone creature.

Thanks for the heads up.

The stone creature marches towards me with precise, even steps, its sword held in a ready guard.

“Right.” I say, “Just have to fight this thing.”

The animate statue towers over me by a good three feet, looking down at me with the blank carven holes in its stylized helmet.

“Sal’vir, do something!” I shout, trying to keep my distance.

The elven wizard shoots a ball of sparking fire at its chest, which seems to do some damage, but it still advances forward undeterred.

“Okay, do something else!” I shout as it raises its stone sword over its head.

I don’t even try to parry that massive blade, instead diving sideways as it slams the sword into the floor of the corridor. Whilst pulling myself up, I look over to see how Sloane and Buri are faring. They seem to be holding their own, bashes with axe and sword taking chips off of the creature, the clay like stone from which it was sculpted seemingly a little brittle with age. No way I am going to try that with my saber though, the thin blade would snap in half if I started bashing against that monster. My fangs would shatter against it as well, and I highly doubt my venom would have any effect. The creature looks between the two of us with its blank stare, before tromping off after Sal’vir, who stumbles backward as it approaches. Then an idea occurs to me.

Sorry again for the slow pace, am doing other things right now and posting bits at a time.
No worries, it's the weekend. Most other people are probably off doing other things. Looking forward to see what Sol's got up his... er... scales? Is he still wearing his coat?

Bumping to keep it alive.
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Link to archive? I missed the second half of Part 3 :(
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Here ye go
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Thank you kind sir.


Why doesn't Galen use turn undead here?

They're golems.

Oh, nevermind, saw the bit your were quoting.

He did use turn undead, took out a few of them but the horde is very large, so they just made up the difference and kept coming.

one more bump before sleep
Thanks for the story so far! I have found it immensely enjoyable. I hope that you continue to hone your writing chops.

Thanks, I appreciate that.
What served as inspiration?
So is this going to continue Solaron?

Yes, very soon now.

I just had other things going on over the weekend and couldn't write very much.

Nothing really.

I have always liked the idea of a character from a usually evil race rising above to become good.

I find the idea of an entire race of creatures who are all totally evil by genetics alone completely against my worldview, there can always be good, and always be evil, though culture and society can influence how much of each you have.

I had Solaron's concept in my head when I was about 14, then I got online and learned about the sudden tide of good dark elves and started to think about how to have this character avoid the pitfalls that seem to afflict good characters from evil races.

Having him be naive and friendly and just want to make the world a better place, without really caring about his own race, seemed the best way to go.
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>I have always liked the idea of a character from a usually evil race rising above to become good.
Mah nigga.

In my mind there is no such thing as an 'always chaotic evil' race, or an always anything race.

There will always be outliers, heroes and villains, madmen and saints.

The creature is almost to Sal’vir now, who is still ineffectually shooting fireballs at it. I come up behind it, coil up and launch myself through the air at its head. Landing on its shoulders, I quickly wrap myself about its carven helmet and start to squeeze. Despite its lack of actual eyes, it seems that whatever magic allows it to see does indeed flow through its head, and I appear to have blinded it. The terrified elf looks up at me.

“Quick! Shoot it!” I shout, the elven mage quickly recovering and shooting a few more fireballs at it.

The magical blasts seem to be doing some damage, scorched and brittle clay being blasted off in shards. My plan appears to be working, the great clay creature being unable to see its attacker and flailing around wildly with its sword. Then my smile vanishes quite suddenly as I feel a sudden crushing grip on my tail. I cry out in pain as a great clay fist crushes my tail about halfway down my body, wrenching me off of its head before throwing me to the floor. I lay there for who knows how long, writhing in agony on the cold floor.

Eventually I manage to refocus my eyes through the pain and look over after the creature. The mage shoots another blast, though the smoking creature continues to advance. The huge blade swings at the elf, who dodges but trips over the hem of her robes, falling back onto the stones as the golem pursues.

“Help!” She cries in a voice high pitched with terror.

I’m not sure when I started forward, but I am. Half slithering, half clawing my way along with my hands, I speed towards the desperate mage with all the swiftness I can muster. Unable to rise from the floor, and having lost my saber, I instead do the only thing I can do. I wrap myself between the creature’s legs and squeeze. Now I’m no constrictor, I’m one for the lightning strikes with fang and venom, but my body is basically one big loop of corded muscle with a spine. Driven on by desperate panic and adrenaline, I exert enough force to crush a man’s ribcage on the golem’s legs.

It slows down, a little. I scream in pain, the massive clay legs pulling against my coils, I feel like I’m about to rip in two. Finally, with a strange groaning noise, the golem topples over face first, landing barely a foot from where Sal’vir lies trembling. I dimly feel one of its legs crushing me, but I am beyond mere pain at this point.

“Shoot it!” I cry desperately, “Shoot for the seam at the neck line!”

Sal’vir rises to her feet, and jams her staff into the seam where the neck meets the shoulders, blasting two shots, blowing the creature’s head clean off. Elsewhere I hear shouts of victory, and glance over to see that Sloane and Buri have finished their opponent. They turn towards us, triumph on their faces, which soon falls when they see me. Sloane pushes past Buri, rushing to my side.

“Solaron! Solaron what happened? Galen get over here!”

I hear him shouting more, but can’t make out the words, the edges of my vision going black. I feel tired, but the pain won’t let me rest. A shadow falls over me, and two hands are upon my chest, a sudden warmth flooding me.

Yeah, that feels really good, time for a little nap I think.


That’s the first thought that traces its slow agonizing path through my mind when I start to wake up. I feel like a few energetic dwarves have been beating on my head with hammers all night. I try to shift a bit, but everything hurts, the entirety of my being is one big aching sore. I haven’t felt this bad since I drank that entire barrel of mead back at the library. Deciding that movement was beyond me right now, I instead opt to open my eyes and get an idea of what is going on around me.

I open my eyes slowly, wincing at the light. I am on a bedroll now, still in the corridor outside the wizard’s chamber. Looking around I see Galen sitting next to me. Judging by the cloth in his hand and the feeling of wetness on my scales he’s been washing me off a bit, though I can still feel what seems like rocky grit and dried blood on me.

Sloane is pacing back and forth next to us like a mad watchdog, Sal’vir standing to the side wringing her hands. Buri is steadfastly blocking Blake from getting into the final chamber on his own.

“All my fault,” I hear Sloane mumbling, “Foolish, shouldn’t have sent him off with someone else, should have been there, should have teamed up against one target, not split up, foolish, stupid! I’m not worthy of this, not cut out for…”

I try to comfort him with a few words, but all that seems to come out is a groan.

Galen looks down at me, “Don’t try to move Solaron, I have not finished healing you yet, please be patient.”

I let out another groan that I hope feels affirmative, I don’t feel like moving anyway. Sloane drops to his knees beside me, rattling off apologies and qualifications and a list of his failures. I groan to tell him to be quiet, that it wasn’t his fault, but he doesn’t seem to listen. Eventually I catch his attention with some wiggling fingers, and hold onto his hand. Thankfully he stops blaming himself and calms down for a bit as Galen reaches down with another dose of healing warmth.

The warmth flows through me and seems to fix the major damage, leaving me strong enough to rise with some help from my fellows. Sloane takes one arm over his shoulder, with Sal’vir rushing to take my other, holding me up despite her light elfin frame. I smile weakly at them.

“Thank you.” Sal’vir says, “You saved my life.”

“It was nothing.” I manage to choke out.

They pull me over to the door into the wizard sanctum and let me lean against the wall.

“Just set me down here,” I say, “No good to be carrying me around in a fight.”

“Nonsense,” Sal’vir says strongly, “You saved my life and I will carry you, besides I’m out of spells.”

I start to shrug, but that proves too painful to continue. Buri is talking to Sloane over at the door, Sloane trying to caution the dwarf against acting rashly with a wizard involved, but the dwarf is hearing none of it. Though I cannot hear most of the conversation, Buri eventually shouts “Let’s just have his head and be done with it!” And kicks in the door.


Oddly quiet, I haven't scared you off have I?
Not at all, this anon just isn't sure what to say.
I have nothing witty to say, but please continue
I just don't have anything funny to say, good job on that golem Solaron, very heroic.

Just checking.

We fan out into the room. Well, they fan out while Sal’vir lugs me cautiously along behind. Once again, we discover something we were entirely unprepared for. Nothing. No demons emerge from the carpet, no sudden blasts of eldritch power tear us apart, nothing happens at all. Somewhat put off by this we look around, Blake lighting some ancient torches put up around the room, bathing everything in a flickering yellow light.

I look about the room seeing tables covered in various arcane paraphernalia, coated in the dust of the ages. Clearly this place has not seen use in centuries. Upon the walls are various artifacts, staffs and a blade or two, pieces of art long ruined by ages of neglect. And in a far corner, I see a large four poster bed, shrouded in cloth curtains. Sloane and Buri see it too, walking carefully over. They nod to each other and pull back the curtains, weapons at the ready. They just stand there for a long moment.

“Well?” I croak, “Did you find the wizard?”

Sloane slowly lowers his sword.

“Yes, we found him.”

Sal’vir carries me over to the bedside, and upon the faded purple sheets rests an ancient skeleton in the remains of a long flowing robe, its hands clasped over its chest, holding onto a book with its fingers of bone.

“He’s dead!” Buri says, leaning over to see. Then he looks over to Galen. “He is read right?”

Galen walks over and waves a hand, letting out a low warm glow. “Yes, he is dead, I detect no power of unlife in these bones.”

Carefully, Galen reaches down and picks up the book the skeleton holds, flipping through it.

“It is his journal.” He says, focusing on the translation. “It details his coming to these lands from his home after he was driven out for practicing necromancy. He built this complex with his magic and lived here for many years, performing experiments and research to further his understanding of necromantic magic.”

He reads a section verbatim. “The fools in the local village reject my work and fear my presence. When one they hailed me as a hero who brought bountiful harvests and fended off monsters, they now see me as a monster myself.” He flips a clump of pages, “What a shame I have lived this long, to see my work undone. My creations have been destroyed and my research lost, all at the hands of a band of cutthroats hired by the villagers to attack me here in my only sanctum. I have managed to beat them off, but barely, and now the villagers besiege me in my own home.”

He turns to the final written page.

“As I lie here in this tomb that was my home, I again lament that I have lived to see this day.” The villagers have buried the entrance to my home and stand guard there now in case I attempt to escape. I now face my final days knowing that my work will never be vindicated, that my research will be for naught as it will all be lost here, in this grave I once called home. I have turned out what creations I still control to protect my resting place, lest those fools defile my bones in search of artifacts to sell.

I once wondered whether it was better to waste away and die, or to pursue the path to immortality through lichdom. In the twilight of my life I know now that I have made the right choice in refusing to linger here, for cold and desolate is this world. And I have no desire to stay here any longer.”

Galen closes the book, a solemn expression on his face.

None of us speak for a long moment, simply gazing down at the ancient corpse before us. Sloane is the first one to break the silence.

“Well, at least we have confirmed that there is no threat to the nearby villages.” He says.

“Aye, at least there’s that.” Buri nods.

“Right then!” Blake says energetically. “Mission done, so we can pop back up to the surface and get paid!” The short rogue starts walking away, but Galen blocks his path with his staff.

“Give it back.” He says calmly.

“Give what?” Blake asks innocently.

“Do not bother lying, I know what you did, now give it back.”

Blake glares at him for a long moment, then reaches down his shirt to pull out a short staff with a jewel on the end. Galen takes it in hand and gently returns it and the book to the resting form of the ancient mage.

“Rest easy old one.” I say as gently as I can. “Know that you are not forgotten.”

I take a deep breath. “Well, now that that’s done, I think I need to lie down now, this day has been rather exciting for me.”

We pitch a little camp out in the corridor, illuminating the area with a few purloined torches. As soon as my scales hit the bedroll I am fast asleep, exhausted from the long struggle. I awake slowly to a feeling of comforting warmth, Galen having been healing me in increments while I slept. Guess that explains how good I feel right now, though I’m still aching in a lot of places. Looking over myself I see that the cosmetic damage is repaired at least, so that’s something. Looks like I’ll heal after all.

Turns out I had been asleep for a long time, the archeological team having already been freed from the stasis trap they had blundered into. They were very eager to begin examining the site, though Sloane warned them against disturbing the rest of the ancient wizard. The temple of Pelor would be watching, and they did not take kindly to those who recklessly disturbed the rest of the dead. Not wanting to argue with a holy warrior of the sun god, the archeologists agreed.

I was feeling fit enough to slither on my own, though Sal’vir still insisted on helping me back up to the surface, for which I was grateful, it helped keep some of my weight off of the hard floor. Eventually we emerged back out into the glorious sunlight, and went back down the slope to where our wagon was waiting. It was a bit more of a squeeze with the six of us heading back, but we made it fine, watching the archeologists sitting in their camp. With the possibility of more skeletons wandering about they were waiting on a more permanent group of guards to arrive from their home base.

Eventually we made our way back down the road to the city we had departed from.
Well, another proper adventure under Solaron's belt. A bit more somber of one, but there's all sorts of adventures out there.

A bit on the somber side, but Sol is happy that he can do right by the wizard's memory.

The wizard was afraid that everything he worked for would be lost and forgotten, and Sol will not allow that to occur, being a proud bard and all.

I think that the elf has a crush on Solaron.

When we finally see the walls it is a sight to behold, a tired cheer going up amongst our little group. Next to me Sal’vir smiles. She’s been leaning up against me for some of the trip back, the frail magic user seemingly quite tired from the constant spellcasting.

“Didn’t think I’d see this again.” The elf said. “I have you to thank for that.”

“Oh relax.” I say, “You owe me nothing, just doing what I can to help is all.”

“You almost died to save me.” She says, “You have my gratitude.”

Across from us, Blake grins widely.

“What?” I ask.

“Oh, nothing, you two just carry on, don’t mind me.”

I would have continued speaking with the elf, but the small rogue’s smile is somewhat unnerving, so it is in silence that we reenter the city.

Most of our group heads back to the inn to recuperate, Buri and Sloane heading off to collect their respective rewards for a job well done.

I slither over to the bar to get something to help dull the deep ache I still feel, smiling at finally being able to rest.

Eventually Buri and Sloane return, and we are all richer for it. Lacking the energy for a celebration, we all elect to rent a few more rooms and get some rest before we celebrate our survival. Me and Sloane share our old room, Sal’vir and Galen sharing one, though the elfin mage seems a bit disappointed at something when I bid her goodnight. We rise the next day feeling much better, a mug of tea and one last shot of healing magic finally getting me back up to top form.

I spend most of the day curled up out in the sun with quill and parchment. I am trying to compose a fitting story to tell the tale of the ancient wizard in the tomb, though it is slow going. Performing comes naturally to me, but I find writing something new to be quite hard. I still don’t like the wording, but by midafternoon I have a decent first draft down. Resolving to tweak it later, I slither back to the inn to meet the rest of our group to discuss a few matters.

Slithering in I am met with some familiar smiles. I try to tell them that I am personal business this evening, but they won’t take no for an answer, and a few minutes later I am up on stage singing one of my old songs, a returning favorite about a warrior goddess and the would be king who wooed her.

While I could not replicate the instruments I had first heard played with it, I sang the lyrics well enough.


Actually, no listen to this one. Better version.


What would be a bardic tale without music right?

I finish my song to loud applause and calls for more, but I have to refuse them and slither back down to my friends table. Sal’vir is smiling happily, and it seems that the rest of the table enjoyed the song well enough. Seeing that the party’s drinks are running a bit low, I pick up a tray and head back over to the bar to get some more. I order another round and, as she brings the drinks over, Lyda smiles at me.

“Fine song, you’re going to run me out of house and home though if you keep this up.” she says, taking a bit off the price of the drinks in payment.

“Enjoying yourself?” She asks.

“Yes.” I say, “Quite a bit, good to be back here after a long hard quest.”

She smiles again, glancing over my shoulder to the table. “Well, you just carry on then.” She says before returning to her work.

I look over to the table before I come back. Sloane is discussing something with Buri in a serious manner at another table, Galen is sitting quietly by himself and sipping water, leaving only Blake and Sal’vir alone at our original table. The small rogue is speaking to the elf, and is wearing that same wide grin he had on in the horse cart. He is evidently describing something, moving his hands on complex patterns to illustrate, the elf blushing slightly and motioning for him to stop when I come back over.

“Drinks?” I ask, passing out the goblets. I curl up on my coils and take a sip, just enjoying the moment. I am however interrupted by Blake.

“Solaron.” He says cheerily, “Sal’vir has something to say to you.”

This is another one of those moments where I am asking for your faith.

It will all be okay. Trust me.

She wants singing lessons?
She wants his snake D?
Why not both, at the same time?

She glares at him, but he only smiles back, making pushing motions with his hands. I look to the elf expectantly. Eventually she works up the courage to speak.

“So, I was thinking about what you did for me back there and.”

I cut her off. “Oh not this again. Listen, you don’t owe me anything, saving people is just what I do, no charge, no strings attached.”

She stops for a moment before starting again. “Right, well, that doesn’t change what you did. You were very brave and saved my life, and I thank you very much for that. In fact it was quite noble of you.”

I smile in spite of myself, a little flattery feels nice once in a while.

“Anyway,” She continues, “For the past several months my only companions have been a dwarf, and I don’t have to tell you how that works out, and this little weasel right here.” She glares at Blake, who grins innocently.

“And you are the first person who has been kind to me in a long while, and I was wondering if you…”

I lean forwards interestedly.

“Wanted to, be um.”

I smile disarmingly.

“Wanted to be my, um, friend?” She blurts out the last word, and Blake smacks an open palm to his face and groans.
Yep, she wants the snake D.
Oh dear. Eternally unrequited love, ho!
Sol's cadre of eager womenfolk gains its second member.

“Sure.” I say simply taking another sip of my drink.

Sal’vir lets out a relieved sigh. “Oh, good. I usually have a lot more trouble getting people to like being around me, I’m not the easiest to deal with sometimes, connection issues, mostly.” She looks like she is going to ramble on. Instead Blake, who is grinning wider than ever, motions for her to stop.

“Oh, don’t worry about it, no problem.” I say, “Some people judge me by appearance and they are always wrong. Besides, I try to be a pretty nice guy.”

Sal’vir smiles and goes to take another sip, but stops at my final word. She blinks three times, and slowly sets down the mug.

“Guy?” She asks quietly.

I look at her, confused. “Yes, guy, as in me, Solaron.”

She scoots her chair back a few inches, looking me up and down, looking very confused.

“Are you,” She says slowly, “Male?”

I frown, confused as well now. “Yes.” I say simply. Then, struck by sudden curiosity, I lean in closer, giving the elven mage a few long sniffs and scenting the air with my tongue. “Are you?”

“Yes!” Sal’vir says, a look of mounting horror growing on her, no, his face.

I hear a strangled noise, and look over to see Blake, red in the face, clamping his mouth shut, as though he is afraid to speak.

“Oh,” I say, “I couldn’t tell. Sorry.”

Sal’vir’s look of horror grows. “How could you not tell, I am obviously a man!”

I blink. “You have long hair and wear a dress, I thought that was proof enough.”

“This is a robe!” He says, grasping his garment tightly, “Wizards wear them! Male wizards!”

Then, he freezes, and glares at Blake.

“You knew!”

Blake finally loses his battle of self-control, and erupts into hails of laughter.


Oh, well played, good sir.
Hahaha. Oh, gender confusion, how very funny.

Blake is an asshole, I love him anyways.
Plot twist.
I like popping in every so often to see a new page or so be here. Good work.

“BWAHAHAHAHA!” The small rogue collapses on the table, rocking from side to side, face red as a beet.

“Ha! I can’t believe that, OH MAN! I knew that I had the elf fooled into thinking you were a lady, I mean come on!” He gestured to my smooth scaly front, “I mean how can you even tell, but you actually thought that he was, and you two were, and you were thinking about...” He makes crisscross gestures between the both of us. He tries to speak some more, but he slips sideways off his chair and rolls about on the floor, twitching with laughter.

I slither across the table and glare down at him disapprovingly.

“You know, that with your small size, I could literally swallow you whole, right?”

Blake wipes his eyes, clearing away tears of mirth. “And I would die happy, for this is truly my finest moment.”

I pull myself back and coil up next to Sal’vir, the elf looking rather traumatized.

“If it’s any consolation, I still would like to be your friend.” I say, smiling as charmingly as I can.

The elf simply stares into the distance, and does not make a sound.

Luckily, Buri and Sloane come back over then, to save us from this embarrassment, the dwarf giving Blake a good kick to shut him up.

“Gentlemen,” says the paladin, “We have news.”
>elf fooled into thinking you were a lady
He likes scales? Kinky.

More like incredibly desperate, his only companions for a few months being a Buri, who is a dwarf, and Blake, who is Blake.
You know, if you murdered blake, you could say it was an accident.

Given Sol's threat, there would never be a body.

The dwarf pulls the rogue back into his chair and shakes him until he is mostly quiet. Sloane looks curiously around the table, but when nobody says anything he goes on.

“Buri and I have been talking.”

“Aye, about our futures. We each got in way over our heads back there, and we all almost ended up dead because of it.”

“So, expanding our logic from earlier, we have decided that it would be in our mutual best interests to join forces and continue our battles together, as a single team. I know that you don’t know each other, but I think that we can do a lot more together than we could apart. So, if you are each willing, then we shall fight together.”

He looks around the table, “Opinions?”

Galen nods. “I shall go where the light of the path guides, if this be my fate, then I shall abide it.”

Blake nods frantically. “Oh yes, this is too much fun to give up.”

Sal’vir simply nods, not trusting himself to speak.

“Just keep the small one away from me.” I say, “And it will be fine.”

The paladin nods. “Very well, then let us raise a toast, to brotherhood.”

“And adventure.” I say, as we raise our mugs together.
He'd still have to get rid of the gear, though.

Hurry to a pawn shop.

Or say that the small crazy one left all his clothes behind to run through the streets. Dwarf might buy it given their history.
To adventure!

Thanks for writing, OP, as always.

Think that's it for right now.

Wanted to finish that story arc and get the gang together, have to think about where it is going from here.

Thanks for reading, will be on the thread all night if anyone cares to chat.
We could wait for the next dungeon. He fell in battle, nobody would ask.

A pleasure as always.

"Why no sir paladin, I did not see how the annoying rogue died, he just went running off into the tunnel.

Oh the gear? He must have left it here, perhaps clothes make him less sneaky.

Looking a bit large? I, uh, found a large stock of preserved food and was a bit hungry.
yeah, about how it would go. I don't think paladins have detect-truth.

Oh well, we'll just have to wait until the little guy gets himself arrested like any other law abiding citizen

Anything is possible.
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Okay, guy-who-is-also-a-fan-of-reasonable-marine-quest here, again too late to catch the storytelling. Tell me, was the story of the necromancer inspired by pic related? Because it sounds awfully familiar. If so, have a cookie. It's one of my favorites.
I noticed it too.
Yes a little bit.

I always liked that one.
Bump for more yuan-ti writefaggotry.
My only quibble with the story thus far is the seeming lack of inhuman mannerisms on Sol's part. Even a raging humanaboo would slip on occasion.
he did just threaten to eat Blake. Perhaps later on he will get angry enough to actually eat somone


Please explain this term.
Like a weaboo, but about humans instead of Japan.
But he's not obsessed with them to the point of wanting to be one. He just so happened to be raised differently from others in his race, and finds humans interesting. I can't say the reason he finds them interesting for sure, because that's up to OP, however if I were to make a guess, it'd be because the ideals of human society are similar to his own.

He's just fascinated by everything he sees, and humans are new and interesting. Simply put, we keep his attention.


Possibly. Being a serpent trying to bite/swallow something would be an instinctual panic move more likely than something he would do on purpose. He probably wouldn't chose to try and eat a human. It's not really his style, plus you don't know where it's been.

Our little celebration continues long into the night. We swap stories of our own groups adventures and generally enjoy ourselves. Sal’vir remains tight lipped throughout the experience, though Sloane does smile a little. He is altogether too serious for his own good. Eventually we head back up to bed, tired and happy, with my head buzzing pleasantly from our drinks. I stir the next morning to, predictably, find the paladin absent. So, with some actual money to spend for the first time in recent memory, I buckle on my belt and head out into the city.

It’s a beautiful day and I enjoy the sun, heading around from shop to shop, trying to find something to spend my excess money on. I don’t need much in the way of luxuries, a full belly and the open road are all I really need to be happy, but I manage to find a few things, some minor decorations to enhance stage presence, a simple pendant and a little steel bracelet, nothing fancy. Eventually I am wandering through the bazar, just starting to think about getting some food, when I hear something absolutely wonderful floating by on the breeze.

It is some kind of string instrument, though nothing like anything I have heard before. I follow the sound of the music, almost in a trance. Finally, the sound brings me in sight of a human male sitting on a folding chair along the side of the street, playing for passersby. He wears simple clothes, a plain shirt and a floppy sun hat, not the sort of garb you would expect from an entertainer. A few people have stopped to listen for longer, a little crowd gathering around. In his hands is a strange string instrument, the human plucking away at the strings to make a sound that conjures images of wood fires and ranging fields. I am in luck it seems, as the minstrel is about to start his next song. I hover at the edge of the crowd and listen, as his music carries me away.


The musician finishes his song, and the walkers drop coins into a pan at his feet. I slither over, wide eyed and staring.

“That was, incredible.” I say, tossing a handful of coins into the pan.

The musician looks a bit surprised to see me, or more likely to see a serpent praising his performance, but nods.

“Just a bit of music.” He says.

“That was more than a bit.” I say, “That was very well done, and also, where did you get that instrument?”

He shrugs, “Bought it years ago from a trader.”

My face falls. “Oh, do you know where I could get one?”

He thinks. “There are a few musical suppliers in the city, one of them might carry a guitar. I wouldn’t hold out hope though, it’s not a very common instrument, most people seem to think its deeper notes don’t compliment a minstrels ballads well.”

“They’re wrong.” I said, “Thanks for the tip.”

I slither off and leave him to his playing.
Yay! My favorite part of the day.

I spend the rest of my day shopping through musical supply shops, looking for that magnificent instrument. The first four shops are a bust, and with the sun getting low in the sky I resolve that this has to be my last one, I can search more in the morning. I slither in through the front door, the mounted bell announcing my presence with a ring. The man at the desk looks over, does a double take, and then tries to affix his best accommodating smile.

“Hello there, um, sir is it?” I nod and he looks relieved, “Ah, right then how may I help you?”

“I’m looking for an instrument.” I say, looking around, I don’t see a guitar anywhere, my heart sinking.

“Then you’re in the right place,” He says, “What do you need it for?”

“Oh, I’m a bard actually.” I say, looking at a selection of lyres.

The man seems surprised at this, but grins widely before coming over.

“Well then I have just the stock, a fine selection of lyres, fiddles and lutes.”

“Actually,” I interrupt, “I was looking for a guitar, do you have one?”

He looks at me, a strange mixture of confusion and happiness on his face. He motions me over to the counter as he walks into the back room, coming out with a guitar in his hands a moment later.

“One of these things?” He asks as my eyes light up.

“Yes! That’s the one, why isn’t it on the shelves?”

He looks the instrument over, frowning. “Nobody bought them. Got a shipment in from a supplier out west, told me it was the next big thing. Not so it would appear, none of the minstrels or troubadours wanted any, so they’ve been sitting in the back room.”

I reach out and take it, strumming it experimentally. It needs a little tuning, but it has that same deep thrumming sound, I like it. And this one seems just the right size for me as I change my grip up a bit, testing out the fit.

“I’ll take it.” I say, the owner frowning again.

“I appreciate that, and I would love to get one of these out of my storeroom, but..” He looks at my clothes, or rather almost total lack thereof, “I don’t think you could afford it, I have to make my losses up after…”

He stops when he sees the first gold coin spinning on the counter. I flick a second up, then a third, then a fourth.

“Can we deal?” I ask.

“Yes, I think we can.”

A few minutes of haggling later, I slither out back into the evening sun, guitar slung at my side.

Good day.
Bump of interest, though there's very little you can actually contribute to writefags.

Reentering the pub, I see Buri and Blake sitting at a table, the dwarf occasionally glaring over at the diminutive rogue. I glide over and set the guitar down on the tabletop, curling up next to them and waving for a drink. The rogue looks at my instrument dubiously.

“What’s that, some kind of lute?”

“No.” I say proudly, “This is a guitar.”

“What’s that?” Says Buri, “Some kind of cow?”

I give him an annoyed look and strum a few simple notes, twisting the tuning knobs on the end of the neck, still not right. I try to play a bit more, but Blake interrupts me.

“Oh stop that racket will you, you’ll put me off my appetite.”

I glare at him and continue, but stop when Buri gives me a pained glance.

“What?” I ask, setting the instrument aside.

“I hate to say it lad, but you may have been taken for a ride with that instrument.”

“Ride?” I ask.

“Ripped off.” He says meaningfully.

I look down at myself, “But I’m not wearing anything that can rip.”

“You were cheated.” He says firmly.

“Oh, what makes you think that?” I say, feeling defensive.

Thanks for the bump.

“That thing sounds terrible.” He says.

“It’s like its poking me with needles.” Blake adds.

“It’s not in tune.” I say, pulling the guitar closer, as if to protect it from their criticism. “You should have heard it being played earlier, this is a fine instrument, I just have to get it right.”

I am about to start tuning it again, when Buri gives me a pleading look. Huffing, I set the instrument down as the drinks get here. I drink in somber silence, not really wanting to talk right now. Eventually Buri seems to feel sorry for me and tries to cheer me up.

“Did I ever tell you about my uncle’s trip out west? Wonderful tale for a little pub.”

“No.” I say.

“Ever heard the joke about the wind elemental and the wizard?”

“No.” I say, “And I don’t feel like hearing it.”

Buri leans in close and grins. “Want to hear the story of the werewolf and the maiden?”

“Yes!” Blake says, leaning in to hear.

“No.” I say, though I do take some small joy in watching Blake’s face fall.

Buri leans back and thinks for a moment, a slow smile spreading over his bearded face.

“Want to know why Blake is so short?”

The small rogue’s jaw drops open and he attempts to claw at Buri to shut him up, the dwarven warrior just smiling and holding him back with an open palm.

“You’re one to talk!” Blake says, “You’re the same size as me!”

“Yes, but I’m tall for a dwarf, you’re short for a human, therefore it is funny.”

I grin a little and rest my chin on my hands. “Alright, why is Blake so short?”

“Well, you see,” Says Buri, holding a swearing Blake at bay with one arm. “Blake’s mother was human, but his father was not.”

I blink. “Wait, that can happen?”

“Oh yes.” Grins Buri, “You’d be surprised what humans can spawn with.

“So you’re a half breed?” I say, looking at Blake, who glares back.

“Oh, not just that,” says the dwarf, “But his father was a halfling.”

I think about that for a moment. “So, you’re a half breed, with a half ling. Does that make you a quarterling?”

Blake glowers at me. “Don’t you dare call me that.”

“Why not?” I ask innocently, “You’ve been calling me female behind my back. At least I’m saying what you really are.”

“He has you there lad.” Buri says, clapping Blake hard on the back, “Honest to a fault.”

We start chuckling, finally laughing, Blake joining in eventually.

I retire back to the room later to tune and practice with my new guitar. I get it more or less in tune and try to do a few simple notes, but stop when Sloane comes in for bed, looking at me tiredly. I put the guitar away grudgingly as the paladin falls into bed.

“Long day?” I ask.

“Trouble at the temple, nothing serious but I had to spend all day dealing with it.”

I nod, getting out my book for some evening reading.

“Well, sleep well.” I say, the holy warrior grunting tiredly in response.

I read for an hour or so before slithering into bed myself.

The next two weeks continue in much the same way, nothing of any real interest happening. I continue to practice with my guitar, finally getting it in tune, though my friends still say it sounds like I’m strangling animals in my room when I practice. Other than that I have no obligations except my nightly performances back at the tavern, which always draw a modest crowd. The days wear on, nothing really changing, until one day Sloane walks in again, wearing his mission face.

Oh well, I guess that was enough rest.

Adventure calls.

BRB have to walk the dog.

Talk amongst yourselves.

(if you feel like it)
You didn't give us a topic!

Here, I'll go: Solaron's tail.
Fuck dammit man, I wish I had something to say that was constructive or at least interesting, but I don't. So instead I'll say this, I've enjoyed the story so far. Thank you for the story.
Wonder if he will ever snap, constrict and eat someone
While being completely terrified about what he is doing, high on lolnsnakeinstincts
>solaron's tail
Actually mostly ribcage, believe it or not. The "tail" on most snake-like things is usually just a tiny nubbin on the end.

anyway, it's probably real fucking long.

good idea, I will leave behind a topic of discussion the next time I leave.


Thanks, I appreciate that.


This is true, Sol's basic serpent instinct is bite/swallow when in panic mode. Given that he has no incisors or molar teeth, the only way he can eat things is to swallow them whole, though he usually cuts them into bite sized chunks when at a polite dinner.

Not sure if he could actually swallow a person almost the same size as him, he could try. Might be a hilarious failure with much WTFing on all sides. Or it could get dark. Really dark. Or a combination of both, we'll see how it goes.


True, I try to use 'coils' or describe it as his body rather than a tail. And I always pictured him being about thirteen or so feet long, snout to tail.
I can just picture Solaron sitting there, guitar in hand, his expression as close as it can get to 'kicked, disgruntled puppy'.
All depends if he can dislocate his jaw lie a snake. If he crushes the bones,dislocates his jaw he could probably swallow a average size human whole.

>All depends if he can dislocate his jaw lie a snake.

You will have to just wait and see.

That was what I was going for.
Does this sound like a very solaron thing to be doing to you?
You can eat a person, but how likely is that?
Considering Sol is probably nicer than you, its a stretch
I know he wouldn't usually do it

Why do people keep bringing up vore?

sol is a snake

its what they do

We sit around our usual table down in the pub, the group pulling up chairs as I settle onto my coils. A moment later dinner arrives, a platter of roast turkey and some drinks, which we lay into heartily. Spirits seem pretty high, but I notice that Sloane seems as grim as he usually does when trouble is afoot. I wait until the table calms down a bit before speaking.

“So, Sloane, what is the news?”

Knowing that something important is likely to come, the table quiets down and we let the paladin speak.

“We have another job.” He says. Well that gets everyone’s attention.

“Where we off to lad?” Buri asks.

“Nowhere actually.” Says Sloane, “Our new mission is right here in the city. Over the past two weeks, there have been a number of thefts at various high profile locations throughout the city. Large sums of gold and jewels, as well as valuable artifacts have gone missing.”

“Why come to us then?” Sal’vir asks, “Surely the city watch must be turned out by now.”

Sloane nods. “They are, but the temple of Pelor was one of the sites burglarized. As the only paladin present, the duty falls to me to apprehend the culprit. If you wish to assist me in this mission the temple is willing to compensate you for services rendered.”

“Of course.” I say, “We’ve got your back.”

I look to the rest of the table.

“Right?” I say.

Various mumbles of affirmation follow.

“Right then,” Sloane carries on, pulling out a piece of parchment. “here’s what we know...”

I think that's it for tonight.

I need to give the next quest some more though before I continue to make sure nothing is rushed.

Thanks for reading, and in future I will try to leave discussion questions for when I go AFK.

As usual, I will be here all night to answer any questions or chat if anyone feels the need.

Never thought Sol's eating habits would spark such debate...
theft? I say we kill the rogue, just to be sure

But he's been here the whole time...

Eat the small one!

I'm still here by the way.
well, your tab is still open on my browser too.

I've just got nothing to contribute! Huzzah!

one last bump before bed

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