Bard's Corner

[Albie Blas Tibbits]

I've done this little type of thing before and hope noone minds me doing it here. The point of this place is to simply share short little stories from your D&D game with the general populace.

So come in and share a tale, or simply stop in to be wowed by the silver tongued devils of the D&D world...

[Albie Blas Tibbits]

Gather round citizens, and lend an ear. The tale you are about to hear is entirely true. I know this...because I was there. *The lights flicker mysteriously and a faint ominous tune is heard as the mage's magic saw to the minor details of such* Imagine now, if you will, the high King of Cormyr summoning your group to aid in fighting evil. My companions and I heeded that call, that came not too long ago.

Myself, High Archmage Albie Blas Tibbits, Arivar Moonbow of the Dale Land elves. Noble among his kin and an aspiring young archer. There was also Daykin Stormhammer of the Hellfire Forges, Servant to Moradin and General of his dwarven armies. Lastly there was our human priestess of Mystra. Alura Vandermine, gorgeous beyond words and as patient as the sands of time.

My tale this day is of our Dwarven friend, Daykin. The mightiest of dwarves and most fearless of any warrior I may have ever laid eyes upon. *A smile given to the dwarf as the mage moves on*

Weeks of hunting a thief for the crown led us to a long forgotten temple. A lair of evil so horrid I darest not utter the names here. Pressing into the bowels of this god forsaken haunt, we faced undead minions that could stun you with a look and turn you to ash with the slightest of touches. Our wits about us and our skills honed, we managed to evade such fates, until we entered the room.... *A pause as the tension set in*

The dank room was moss ridden and pungent with the stench of ancient decay and rotted bodies. Stains were all about from some long forgotten battle of unnamed heroes, or would be heroes. We were already deep in the bowels of the temple hunting the evil thief for the crown of Cormyr. Having faced all attrocities your mind can muster and then more. But nothing prepared me for what lay waiting in that room. A shallow pool of infested waters lay in the center of this chamber. Water so murky and dank you could have sworn it to be a living ooze.

But there was a glint from within the waters, something had been left behind. Was it the crown jewel? We stood at the waters edge and peered into this festid sespool of filth, hoping that one of us would be able to somehow pierce the veil of decay and see true. Then it happened. Without warning, complete suprise and SPLOOSH! Daykin had shoved Arivar into the pool.

Immersed in the filth of the pool Arivar broke from the surface drenched from head to toe with a look of sheer anger. It was this act, while shocking, that only sparked what was to amaze us all. Daykin, the dwarven general of armies, supreme warrior of great renown, fearless, and mightiest of any other...turned and ran. Yes my friends...I've seen the mightiest dwarven warrior of all times...run from a wet elf with a stick.

*And laughter from the entire group, and tap room, at the dwarf's expense.*

[Schmall]

lmao. now that is a smile that i needed here at my boring job. lmao

[RivenNookRavenClaw]

Gather round citizens, and lend an ear. The tale you are about to hear is entirely true. I know this...because I was there. *The lights flicker mysteriously and a faint ominous tune is heard as the mage's magic saw to the minor details of such* Imagine now, if you will, the high King of Cormyr summoning your group to aid in fighting evil. My companions and I heeded that call, that came not too long ago.

Myself, High Archmage Albie Blas Tibbits, Arivar Moonbow of the Dale Land elves. Noble among his kin and an aspiring young archer. There was also Daykin Stormhammer of the Hellfire Forges, Servant to Moradin and General of his dwarven armies. Lastly there was our human priestess of Mystra. Alura Vandermine, gorgeous beyond words and as patient as the sands of time.

My tale this day is of our Dwarven friend, Daykin. The mightiest of dwarves and most fearless of any warrior I may have ever laid eyes upon. *A smile given to the dwarf as the mage moves on*

Weeks of hunting a thief for the crown led us to a long forgotten temple. A lair of evil so horrid I darest not utter the names here. Pressing into the bowels of this god forsaken haunt, we faced undead minions that could stun you with a look and turn you to ash with the slightest of touches. Our wits about us and our skills honed, we managed to evade such fates, until we entered the room.... *A pause as the tension set in*

The dank room was moss ridden and pungent with the stench of ancient decay and rotted bodies. Stains were all about from some long forgotten battle of unnamed heroes, or would be heroes. We were already deep in the bowels of the temple hunting the evil thief for the crown of Cormyr. Having faced all attrocities your mind can muster and then more. But nothing prepared me for what lay waiting in that room. A shallow pool of infested waters lay in the center of this chamber. Water so murky and dank you could have sworn it to be a living ooze.

But there was a glint from within the waters, something had been left behind. Was it the crown jewel? We stood at the waters edge and peered into this festid sespool of filth, hoping that one of us would be able to somehow pierce the veil of decay and see true. Then it happened. Without warning, complete suprise and SPLOOSH! Daykin had shoved Arivar into the pool.

Immersed in the filth of the pool Arivar broke from the surface drenched from head to toe with a look of sheer anger. It was this act, while shocking, that only sparked what was to amaze us all. Daykin, the dwarven general of armies, supreme warrior of great renown, fearless, and mightiest of any other...turned and ran. Yes my friends...I've seen the mightiest dwarven warrior of all times...run from a wet elf with a stick.

*And laughter from the entire group, and tap room, at the dwarf's expense.*

AWESOME!

Like you signature too. Welcome

[Albie Blas Tibbits]

I am glad to provide a smile or two. I'll get around to posting another in a while, still want to give others a chance to post too.

[tesral]

Edgar the Ranger and "Just" George stood at the ship's rail watching the sun sink below the horizon.

"So, what's the weirdest thing you've ever seen?" Asked Edgar.

George spat his tooth pick over the side. "A female Pixie trying her damnest to seduce a Centaur."

"Are you serious?"

"Yep, She was someplace waaay passed drunk and the look on his face was, indescribable. Talk about the impossible dream."

"So, do you often meet drunken Pixies?" Edgar's look was purely credulous.

George leaded back against the rail. "That Pixie was frequently drunk. She was part of the party I was with at the time, as was the Centaur. Problem was, he was a real gentleman. How do you say no to a lady that really likes you, but whose body is no bigger around than your tool? He did the only thing a man can do under the circumstances ... He bought her another drink and she passed out."

[starfalconkd]

How do you say no to a lady that really likes you, but whose body is no bigger around than your tool?

Does something strange involving centaur genitals happen to everyone once?

[tesral]

Does something strange involving centaur genitals happen to everyone once?

There's a tale behind that statment there is.

[RivenNookRavenClaw]

There's a tale behind that statment there is.

I loved the John Varley Centaur's, did you ever read about them Tesral?

They could be male or female in the horse part and male of female in the human part giving four sexes:
Horse Human Part:
Female Female
Female Male
Male Male
Male Female

and then their breeding grounds were fantastic...so many ways to have children. BUT does anybody remember the Female Male centaurs that could propose fertilizing themselves...and then carrying the child to term.

Talk about selfish. I remember that the women put in charge of those breeding ground, the heroine, from book one almost never agreed to those breeding proposals.

Not quite a clone is produced but considering that the Centaur's in Varley's books had genetic memory that was still way too self-centered. (YUCK!)

Anyway...centaur's are always way too serious and proud...if funny things didn't happen to their Gentials humans would never have ended up with tutors in classic Greek mythology.

[tesral]

Titanides actually is what he called them. I met Varley when the Titan books were at the height of their popularity. They were popular within my circle as well. I still have then around here somewhere.

Centaurs play an important part in my game world. Mine are more on the classical side but not totally. I class then as fey creatures, part of the First Children.

[RivenNookRavenClaw]

Titanides actually is what he called them. I met Varley when the Titan books were at the height of their popularity. They were popular within my circle as well. I still have then around here somewhere.

Centaurs play an important part in my game world. Mine are more on the classical side but not totally. I class then as fey creatures, part of the First Children.

Well yeah you are right. I just never liked spelling and puns and new words. And since my set from the sci-fi book club had the actual illustrations I just thought of them a centaurs.

I learned about centaur's from Piers Anthony...sad to say...(mock sigh)

For all I do not like what he has written now back then I was a fanatical fan.

[tesral]

Well yeah you are right. I just never liked spelling and puns and new words. And since my set from the sci-fi book club had the actual illustrations I just thought of them a centaurs.

I learned about centaur's from Piers Anthony...sad to say...(mock sigh)

For all I do not like what he has written now back then I was a fanatical fan.

<Voice="old dude"> I learns from Greek myth, out of the mouth of Homer himself I did, yup.</Voice>

My first character was a centaur merely on the accident that I had a centaur miniature when I sat down to play. I have bought the White Box that day and a hand full of miniatures and dice. I played a couple of hours with that group and never played with them again (It was a gaming con) The character has lasted however.

[Albie Blas Tibbits]

The horde was on the move. A thousand or more orcs prepared and armored to bring battle to the door of the Ashabenford. The low hills would be where we would have to meet them. The riders would marshal under us and we were outmanned 3 to 1. But...he was there and we all know a mage can even the playing field.

Rising to the top of the hill overlooking the flood of Orcs the small halfling stopped at the crest, his raven perched upon his shoulder. As the lead orcs caught sight of this small intrusion they grinned...but that grin soon faded as that small mage's voice boomed over the clang of marching troops.

"Kill them...Kill them all"

Those words echoed in their ears and brought the entire legion of orcs to a stop. The raven on his shoulder took flight, rising into the air and dove towards the center of the army. Orcs scattered to clear a place rather than risk being torn asunder by foul magics.

But the raven didn't explode, it didn't unleash terrible, hideous misfortunes upon it's foes...it simply changed. And in a moment there stood a young male, clad in foopish, colorful, robes and cloaks of all colors with a ribbon in his hair.

Young Albie clasped a hand to his forehead and again his voice echoed over the army...

"Damnit Niles! I said 'DRAGON', not DRAG QUEEN!"

His Raven's reply was simple..."Damnit Albie...your Draconic Sucks!" Being obvious that the instructions had been given in the arcane tongue as that is the language his raven knew best.

Orcs were either baffled and confused, looking back and forth, or outright rolling in fits of laughter. But it was short lived, for the hills around them came alive with the riders of Ashabenford and two fireballs blasted the enemy's generals into piles of ash. The riders stormed down the hillside and victory was won. Unsuspecting orcs slain in confusion and unprepared for such tactics.

Yes...a mage is always handy to have around. Even if he is a small one.

[Engar]

To steal a story from a friend...

The party was in dire conditition. Their warrior lay bleeding, breathing ragged and the illusionist had little left in his mind of spells. The rogue paced the room desperately seeking some hidden refuge or passage to the surface as the sound of the battering ram against the heavy iron clad door rang violently through the room.

If only the priest were here, these mongrels feared the old gods and might scatter at the sight of one able to channel their power. Bianca, where are you?

No sooner had the thought gripped the illusionist than the first splinters of the soon shattered door struck the floor by his feet. That was their salvation! They desperately need the priest, Bianca and who better than him to bring at least a semblance of her here. He readied his last potent spell and fixed her image in his mind.

In mumbled excitement and fear he announced his characters actions, "I use my last improved phantasmal force to create Bianca".

A puzzled look crossed the DM's face and he knew he caught him by surprise, "Alright, you can create a very realistic replica I guess. You have only moments, perhaps two or three rounds before they destroy the entrance door and the only other door leads to a closet."

He saw hope, "Alright, just as they come through the door I create the illusion bursting out of the closet and chasing them down the hall so we can reach the fork in the way and escape."

The DM accepted his readied action and the party braced themselves for one last desperate chance.

"The door breaks in two, one side careening into the room and the other swinging wildly on the remaining hinge. As the orcs charge into the room a giant hulking florescent green humanoid ape-like beast with wild bright orange tufts of hair on its head and chest rips loose from the closet beating its chest and screaming through its fanged maw."

Party: "WHAT!? CRAP! We run. Shove the orcs and go." "My rogue tumbles past the enemies." "I try to follow him so they do not have time to attack again." "I try to shove an orc toward the creature!"

The DM had heard "Blanka", not "Bianca".

[Albie Blas Tibbits]

They were wandering the tunnels of a forgotten city of gnomes. A city that had been abandoned due to an evil and mysterious disease. A city built in the bowels of a dormant volcano. A city...that would unlock the keys to the mysterious disappearance of the above ground citizens.

This forgotten city had been claimed by sinister beings now, and of those beings there were hobgoblins. A ferocious, smelly, ill-mannered lot of goblinoids that would slay and eat you on a whim.

Our group of intrepid adventurers found themselves facing a room that housed many of these fouly ill-tempered monstrosities. As they all gathered and quietly began to formulate a plan of attack the silence was broken...

*Thud thud thud*

It seemed that their 2'2" Halfling mage was knocking on the very door to the room they were attempting to ambush!

"Marbles! Would you like to buy some marbles?" His voice echoed through the empty tunnels and into the room beyond. "Please, won't you buy some marbles? They very pretty marbles!"

And to their astonishment, the hobgoblins opened the door and looked out onto the armed group of would be goblin slayers. "Go away!" Came the gruff voice of the hobgoblin.

"But please sir. I must sell some marbles. Only 5 gold for a pouch of marbles. These men will do horrible nasty things if I don't sell marbles! Please! Only 3 gold for some marbles!" Insisted the brave halfling mage.

*Slam*

The door was closed upon them as the hobgoblin returned to the room, refusing to purchase the marbles. What followed was entirely true of the mage's words. For the group did do horrible nasty things...but to the hobgoblins.

The room is now devoid of hobgoblin life, but there is a silent reminder upon the floor as you enter. To your right is a pouch, it's contents spilled upon the floor...marbles.

The moral of this story...never refuse to purchase a bag of marbles from an all too short halfling mage. It may very well be the last thing you refuse to do.

"Power to the halflings!!!!!"