The Way to Kumas Part III

III.

     The breath of the travelers came heavy now. It felt as if they had been running for days, although the night sky had yet to lighten to dawn. Flanking Growgash, the two older men struggled to keep pace. Finally the one with beard turned to shout across to her.

      “This jaunt is not for me!” The other looked across from the other side of the half-orc.

      “Indeed, cousin, 'taint for me, either. What say we make our stand here?” The one with the scar over his eye answered. Jaxom pushed them on with Growgash at the rear. She glanced back and saw their shadowy pursuer rise up upon the two men and over them. Then there were angry shouts. The darkness seemed to rush over the two only to leave them standing astonished, but unharmed. They turned back to glare furiously at their escaping comrades, soundless curses on their lips.

      The half-orc turned to look ahead of them, and her eyes met the priest’s.

      “If it catches us, we will be dead,” he said with certain fear in his eyes. “We make for the temple. Once there we will be...” And he continued on with redoubled speed, as if Hell itself were at his heals.

      “We will be what, old man?!” but her scream was lost as all five dashed haphazard through the thick undergrowth. Beside her, she saw the young soldier go down, and leaping a broken tree, she scooped him up and flung him over her shoulder. “Stop struggling, little pig, or I'll throw you to the wolves behind us.” And indeed, there were wolves behind them now. The half orc could hear the familiar snarling growls, but she dared not look back no matter what fantastical shape their pursuers took.

      Ahead their salvation loomed in the form of a stone door built into the side of a small overgrown knoll. The priest and his boy stopped short, just long enough for the former to slice his thumbs and press them into the stone on opposite sides of the entrance. Then they were greeted with darkness ahead and from behind, but to Growgash, the entrance to the tomb was a bit less animated than their enemies. She regretted this thought with a last push into the stifling blackness. Safe but not safe.

With a thud, she dumped her load upon the warm stone floor and approached what looked to be the silhouette of Jaxom. The bag the priest carried glowed blue with just enough light to guide their way.

      “What is this place?” the man asked their wards, his eyes flashing angrily in the dark. “And what of the others left behind?”

      The apprentice boy turned to them, “Worry not of them. They were dead before, and are still now. Their shares are yours. If you live. If we live.” He turned to his master and the old man nodded.

      “What do you mean? They looked alive enough back there,” Growgash heard herself say.

      “Yes, the trick is to convince them they are alive.” With that, the boy and his master turned to move further into the tomb. “This is the place of our gods. We will not be safe here.” His young, high pitched voice echoed through the passage. Behind her, Growgash felt the hand of the young mercenary grope at her shoulder.

      “Wh-Where we goin'?” his voice wavered.

      “Forward,” the half orc turned to follow the others before the light could grow much dimmer.

Lounge L33ts Episode 4: The Prancing Pony

We manage to get Randy to play LOTRO, Sarah Bloy joins us to bestow some Tolkien wisdom, and we hear the Tale of the Bag of Devouring (it involves a dragon).

The Way to Kumas Part II

II.

      Below the canopy of the trees, the sparks struggled through the kindling. Growgash snorted in frustration at the mercenaries' attempts to light a blaze large enough to roast their dinner. They had refused help from her and the priest and apprentice, not that their employers had really offered any. Jaxom spurned their company as he did not trust the look of them.

      With the blaze finally lit and the small game they'd caught eagerly devoured, the company settled for the night. Growgash drew first watch and Jaxom stayed with her as he was next. As she unsheathed her sword for cleaning, she noticed the blonde man inching towards her.

      “You're a brave one, to approach me when I have my sword out,” she eyed him.

      “You think I wouldn't notice you staring at me earlier. You orcs have curious taste in mates...” her ears pricked at his hot breath. “But you're attractive enough, and a good fighter.”

      “Unlike some I could mention...” she looked across into his dark eyes. Very few human men were equal to her height, let alone taller than her. The canopy of the dense forest trapped the heat from the day and her leathers were chafing badly. A bead of sweat dropped from the man's chin onto her hand. On the other side of the fire there was movement.

      The priest and his apprentice awoke and took up positions on opposite sides of the fire. Then steepling their fingers they began to mutter in unison. The younger mercenary peered from under his blankets nervously while his companions buried themselves in irritation. Abruptly the chanting stopped but the two worshipers remained at their posts. From the corner of her eye, Growgash saw a spider's silken web stretch and billow outward without aid of a breeze. Indeed, the air all about them seemed deathly still and the fire seemed dimmer by the moment.

      Beyond the ring of protection black shapes formed and lumbered closer. Growgash and Jaxom lept up, swords ready as the older men rubbed sleep from their eyes and crawled to their weapons. No matter how tightly the younger man held his sword, the blade quivered in his grip. Now the shadow figures towered over them, still obscured by the darkness despite the rapidly dwindling fire.

Simultaneously the priest and his charge jumped to their feet.

      “Leave! Now! We cannot hope to fight these beasts!” and they did so, dashing away from the fire. For a moment the shadowy figures arched over the blaze, then swallowed it in pursuit. There was still light, however. Ahead of the soldiers, Growgash saw the bag slung over the priest’s shoulder. It glowed brightly with the same blue light from before. What's more, it was moving, as if a knot of snakes were writhing inside.

Geek.Kon 2012 Links of Interest!

     Well, the time has come to start pimping out the annual Geek.Kon convention! Geek.Kon is an anime, scieince fiction, fantasy, tabletop gaming, and video gaming convention based out of Madison, WI. This year we will be on September 7-9th at the Madison Marriott West. Also, this year's theme is "Geekdom is Magic!"

     To register for day passes, go here:
    Registration Form
     To sign up to run a tabletop game (must register for day passes first):
    Tabletop Game Registration
     To register to run a panel, go here (must register for day passes first):
    Panel Registration

     We've got a few great Guests lined up as well, plus a great event known as Kon.Quest! We can't forget the contests, either:

     Fanfiction Contest

      What better way to fly the flag of your favorite fandom, than by participating in our Fanfiction contest? (Also, how's THAT for alliteration?)

Fanart Contest

     But perhaps you're  more of the visually oriented person. If so, enter our Fanart Contest!

     Other Events soon to come are the Geek.Show talent show, the AMV Contest, Karaoke, Mixer, and, of course, Rocky Horror Picture Show! I hope to see you all at the con!

Odyssey Con 12 Video by "Mad" Matt Reviews

    Hey everyone! "Mad" Matt Winchell has finished putting together a music video of footage taken at Oddcon this year:

Introduction: The Way to Kumas

The Way to Kumas is a short story focusing on a character I've made for my D&D group. Growgash is a half-human half-orc fighter with the usual troubled past and love life. In an effort to stretch the ol' creative writing muscles, I've started this short story. Hope you enjoy it!

The Way to Kumas

I.

     The memory of the healer's fingers tracing their way across her wounds haunted her day dreams out here on the plains. The small escort of mounted men for hire and their priestly charge plodded onward through the saw grass and meadow flowers. Every now and then a butterfly in gold and blue, or a red meadow lark would pass their ears in halting flight. The young elf healer back in York had been gifted with long curling blonde locks down to his waist, nimble fingers, and blue green eyes that seemed as if the sea had been poured into them. Jaxon was blonde. She glanced over at the strong, muscled rider next to her. Perhaps he would be obliged to sate the fire in her loins tonight. Damn that healer! She had just gotten used to being on her own, too. Not many were willing to share the sleeping space of a half-orc half-human woman, even for little more than warmth.

It had been two days, since the party left York. Hired for a miserly sum of fifteen silver to escort the priest on his pilgrimage to Kumas. The city was only three days ride from out of town, and yet she had never heard of it. But the voyage promised a chance for change.

     Beside the old, bald man rode his apprentice, a boy of thirteen. Three other mercenaries had been hired in addition to Jaxon and herself, but she couldn't speak to how generously they had been paid. Two big ugly men and a younger man of about twenty, or so. They were clean but with broken teeth and matted hair. Like themselves, their piecemeal armor was battered but also cleaned with the worst dents beaten out. Growgash eyed the younger of the three behind her. He had a nervous quality to him, although he could handle the long sword he carried on his back. She had seen to that, herself. The bruises she'd given him would heal, but his broken pride and anger were another matter.

     The goat path they traveled was narrow and overwhelmed by the tall plains grasses. Small stones lay flush with the ground where the topsoil had been worn away. Growgash was just wondering at that when behind them came a high pitched squeal of anger that made the horses reel in terror. The priest had his hand up over his head, his eyes bulging his mouth gaping. The apprentice walked his pony forward and dismounted. Clearing the brush from the path, a black and mangled thing was revealed. He lifted what looked to be a skull not of humanoid form and, taking a knife to what was left of the neck, gingerly carried the grim find to his master. The old man took the skull and stared intently into eyes long gone, then pulled a small sack off of his belt and sprinkled what looked like sand onto its crown. A blue light flowed in the wake of the sand and for a brief moment, the being seemed alive again.

     Beyond in the distance a flock of birds burst forth from distant treetops. These were no meadowlarks, but large black creatures the size of a man. As these monsters lifted heavily into the air the black on their backs caught the sunlight and glistened gold. The soldiers' eyes grew wide as saucers at the sight.
     “Great golden beasts...” the younger mercenary gasped. A deep troubled feeling mixed with greed in Growgash. This was an evil portent, for no creatures like that openly dwelled within forest, plain, or mountain. To capture one would make mean only ill fortune. She had had enough of that in recent years. To her dismay, the priest pointed and howled ecstatically toward the spot of the forest the birds had fled.

     “This the place we must go to,” the apprentice told them, also pointing towards the thick woods. Growgash eyed the others and caught their anxious expressions.

     “By the gods,” spluttered one of the older men, “one feather off them kind will pay my way ta glory!”

     They left the path and headed into the forest. The priest had his apprentice hide the skull away in a sack, the blue light managing to shimmer through the rough fabric. The half-orc mused again, how it seemed almost alive.

It Doesn't Open a Tomb

     Yesterday I finished a small depiction of something that happened in my all girls gaming group. After falling through a portal into what was apparently the tomb of a great dragon king, our group was arrested by the nearby dragon population and sent on a series of quests for atonement. Who knew breaking into an ancient tomb and stealing an enormous crown was a crime? This particular quest focused on us scaling a mountain and retrieving half of a magical coin. The young chaotic, volcanic dragon guarding said treasure refused to give up "his shiny," even though we knew where there were a lot of shinies to exchange for it. In fact, there was a perfectly good dragon crown going to waste not too far off! After negotiations fell through, our Ranger, managed to somersault onto the youngling's head and up onto the invisible platform where the half-coin lay. Beating a hasty retreat, we stopped to rest and discuss exactly what this thing did, which lead to the following conversation fragment:

http://romeomoon.deviantart.com/#/d4ntfnj

      It also lead to this quote:
     "There is a special Hell for people who trick kids into grave robbing. A special Hell."
     Experiences like this are what I live for; seeing just how insane we can drive each other. Our GM told me once that she was surprised the group was still together. I think it's due to a healthy mix of intelligence and snark.We teeter just on the cusp of killing each other, but we don't because we know we'd be missing out on some fun. My half-Orc fighter would be nothing without the utility Fire Genasi, the iniquitous Human Ranger, the half Elf Battlemind, or our long suffering Eladrin Warlock (pictured above with the Orc). Not to mention the string of Clerics we leave behind. No one seems to want to play the Cleric. Also our GM didn't think we would actually try to reason with the dragon. Sometimes it pays to not kill everything in sight. Did I mention our character alignments were technically "Good?"
     I'd been thinking of doing a picture "someday" of the events of the group, and yesterday, Penny Arcade convinced me to "why the Hell not!" I picked up the newest compilation of the webcomic. The Borders Bookstore I used to frequent and buy these collections at closed down last summer, and the only other bookstore in the mall doesn't allow you to sit and peruse their wares so much. I snatched it up and read a good chunk of it as I sat waiting for "Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy" to start at the theater. I have just picked up on PA again, after wandering away from it back in 2010, or so. As an MMO player, I felt the last book bashed that type of game a little too much. It's okay to hate MMO's, just don't make me pay $15 for the same tired mockery of the genre. The guys seem to have mellowed on that front, though, and as a result, I'm having a lot more fun reading this one. I highly suggest you check it out.