Elaborate Roobs

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bimble
Sojourner
Posts: 45
Joined: Sun Jan 12, 2003 6:01 am

Elaborate Roobs

Postby bimble » Sat Dec 27, 2003 2:46 am

Bimble sat on the edge of the Waterdeep fountain and dangled his legs into the cool water. Wiggling his toes he eyed the crumpled paper in his hands and poked it several times with a pencil without making a mark.

Tapping his head with the pencil he said with great mirth, “Its all up here! A most Elaborate Ruse!.”

“Yes indeedy it is!”

Bimble smiled at no in particular, for he wasn’t talking to anyone in particular because mostly he answered himself. Which is the way it should be. When making great Ruses it was important to stay focused. And of course to remember the whole complicated Ruse.

“Which is why I have a paper and pencil!”, giggled Bimble to the throngs of people passing the fountain on their way to the market.

Sticking his tongue out and holding it firmly to the left, Bimble grabbed the pencil in a tight fist and drew a big “E” on the topmost left side of the paper.

“EeeEEEEEeeee”

“EeeEEEEEeeeela”

“EeeEEEEEEeeeelab”

“E-L-A-B-O-R-A-T-E”, said a voice behind Bimble.

In a huff Bimble quickly scribbled across the top of the paper. Turned and balanced while standing on the edge of the fountain – bringing his height to a full five feet. Fountain included!

Without hesitation he began shaking the paper in the tall mages face. “See I got it, dinna need your help Sir Blackstink with your big old words and big old nose!” “Sneaky mages sneaking and sneaking around.” “If I hadn’t got it, and still had the other I would have shown you a sneaking sneak!”

Shaking the crumpled paper until the edges began to tatter, Bimble dual wielded the pencil and began to poke at the elderly man.

“What you think Bimble cant do nuttin, just cause you can grow a old beard to store your scraps in! Mr. Blackrobes!”

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Khelben looked down on the little halfling with a gentle smile. Knowing full well that in an hour Bimble would forget the entire incident and find something new to entertain himself with. As much as he would like to educate the people of Waterdeep, getting them to take the first steps was often difficult and always required patience.

The Lords bodyguards would soon pass by. And Bimbles tirade would alert then to a nuisance. One that would be frowned upon, not smiled upon.

Before the halfling could continue, Khelben snatched the paper from the pudgy halflings hands. Looking at it carefully he read:

E LAB RAT ROOBS

Written across the top.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Bimbles eyes grew wide as saucers as Blackstaff grabbed the paper from his hands in a cobra quick strike.

Bimble squinted his eyes along with the mage, and carefully said, “Elaborate Ruse.” As the mage scanned the top of the paper with bright intelligent eyes/

“Very Good Bimble, Elaborate Ruse indeed!”, smiled the mage as he handed the wrinkled paper back to the fuming halfling.

Bimble puffed out his chest and gave a little strut as Waterdeep’s most learned scholar patted him on the back and quietly left the way he came.

“Elaborate Ruse!” squealed Bimble as he dropped to a sitting a position and began to frantically draw pictures all over the paper in no particular order. Giving up all pretense of writing out his master plan.

Several hours later, Bimble stood and jammed all his important stuff in his small leather backpack. Checked the sun and said pointing the south, “Candy!” Before jumping off the fountain in a full run down the street of Silks.

-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-



The little man was no taller than Druk, and he was the youngest of the Draggun brothers from Cormyr. His heavy patchwork robe must be heavy. Made from at least a dozen blankets it was roughly sewn by a unskilled seamstress. The cowl was almost as large as the body and drooped low over the little man’s face. Baj Draggun towered over all five of his brothers as they stood behind him, at age 14 the little man almost disappeared in Baj’s shadow. Nobody this small could intimidate Baj! Hands on hips, he confronted the robed man, “Gimme the candy!”

“Come a little deeper into this alley my boys!”, cried a tiny shrill voice from deep in the cowl. “I’ve got stories to tell and possibly a great reward for you all.” “ If things work out between us.”

Druk whispered in a trembling voice, “Baj, Mom said Waterdeep could be a dangerous place. Lets not get into trouble. Lets go back to the Yawning Portal”

“No, No trouble here boys!” “ Just a story and a scary story at that. A scary story needs a bit of the dark to set the tone, so step three steps further and hear about the Dangerous Diseased Creature of Doom!”

To sweeten the deal the little man reached into the bag held tightly in his hand and pulled out several brightly colored pieces of hard candy. Tossing them up and down in his little thick fingered hand, he took a few steps between the tall walls of the Yawning Portal Inn and the abandoned coster house that cast shadows in the bright of day.

“OoOOoo Baj I wanna red one, get me the red one!”, cried one of the Draggun boys.

As the boys entered the alley as a group. Protecting each other. Druk reached for Baj’s clenched hand. For a moment he thought he saw glittering red eyes aglow under that patchwork hood.

A half hour had passed as the boys lost their fear and became enthralled with the story of the little man. A tale of endless travel, of lands unknown and unexplored of places only gods and heroes walked. And in each place the little patchwork man told his story as if he had been there, walked there. Been chased by the creature.

“A creature so fantastic that it defies description. A cursed being, cursed by a fell deed of its own doing. Forever diseased and sickly, in pain and anguish. Yet seeking love, seeking belonging. Cursed to live forever, and wander. Looking to quench its need to love.” BUT! “With every touch and every step, its disease spread.” “Unknowingly, unpredictably its curse spread. Sometimes a well went bad the water poisoning all in the area, or crops failed – corn swelled with conjealed blood at its center.” “More often than not, children grew pale, then frail and sick. To die of a hard cough in their beds late at night, to the anguished screams of their helpless parents.”

The little man pulled his hood back just a fraction and leaned forward, dropping his high pitched voice low. “The creatures shape changed with each full moon. It was known to trundle, to slither, to lumber and to skulk.” “But through each incident it had fits of anguish.” “Terrible spasmodic fits of pain, contortions of its shape from the pain of its loveless diseased life.”

“After spending aeons wandering the realms. “The creature wandered upon the genteel lands of Hyssk. And there it layed a diseased waste to the old patrons of Hyssk.” “Before the Snakemen came the Creature. It skulked there and layed low the beautiful lands and the gentle society that once lived there.” “In its wake the Creature left a horrified dead island.” “But you know boys that nature has a way of healing itself. So jungles grew in place of farmlands, and hideous Snakemen grew from the diseased survivors of that once kindly realm.”

The little man pulled back deeper into the shadows, as Druk began to cry from the picture of the hideous Snakemen. “Its true on my word, young squires.” “For in my younger days, when I was about your age – I took to a wandering.” “And in a land far away, I ran into that Doomed Creature of Disease and survived to tell this tale to you.” “For I found a cure.” “Yes a cure!”

“Deep on the dark forests of the Brownies I ran into the creature.” “Stalking the forest in the shifting shape of a spider, eight legs clacking on the rocks, bulbous body above, with a human shape to it. A nasty mean face and fangs.”

“Did you run, Sir?!”, exclaimed Baj.

“No young Sir.” “Eight clacking legs are much faster than my short two.” “No, it began a fit of spasms and contortions that froze me to the spot. As it scuttled toward me I swear it was begging for help.” “Hissing for help between fangs dripping venom and disease.”

“It reached out with a blackened goo oozing leg like a dagger. Stabbing me in the GUT!”, yelled the little man as he whirled like lightning and poked a stubby finger into Grud Dragguns fat little belly – sending him screaming from the alley in full flight.

“I fell to the ground in instant pain as a disease like hate boiled the blood in my veins.” “My tongue started to swell and turn black as my eyes bulged right out of my skull!”

“The Diseased Creature of Doom wailed a horrible wail and scuttled away, knowing me to be dead soon. For all his attempts at salvation ended in a tragic death. This day it was to be mine.”

“I knew my death was assured. So as all heroes I embraced it, met it with grace.” “In my last few minutes I was calm and craved the taste of sugar. For all of my kind love the taste of the sweets.”

“So I reached into my robes and pulled out a bag.”

The little man hefted the bag of hard rock candy, that was now a hour and half lighter than it was before.

“NO!” cried Druk. “The candy saved you?”

“In a way kind Druk, in a way.” “The sweet nectar of the bee’s – the honey in the candy is a counter agent to his hateful curse.”

“You see I have not been diseased or ill since. I survived that terrible stabbing.”

“But.”

“The Diseased Creature of Doom witnessed my recovery from the shadows.” “And to this day follows close on my heels, hiding in the shadows of dark forests, in closets and ….”

“Alleys.”

Unnoticed by all, the little man tossed the hollow frail bones of a dead bird behind him. Crackling down the alley they skittered and fell, making the sound of scuttling creature. Before the bones stopped their cracking roll, the alley was filled with the sounds of running footsteps - and the screams of the Draggun boys of Cromyr.

Bimble pulled the cowl from over his head hand took the small leather backpack from his shoulders. Reaching in he pulled out a wrinkled and tattered piece of paper. Turning it around several times as if to decide which side was up, he made a quick mark on the paper.

“Step one complete!” he squealed in delight.

Stutting deeper into the alley, Bimble entered the alley side door of the Yawning Portal Inn.

-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

The sparse hair on Krrk’s head was not much cover for the cool breeze blowing across his pale pate. He had been standing in front of the Yawning Portal Inn now for several hours. Standing was Krrk’s trade. The life of a Half-Orc was one of hardship and loneliness. No one would ever apprentice Krrk to a real craft or trade. So Krrk stood. He stood for hours at the pier at Waterdeeps harbor. Taking tickets for the sailing ships to the south. For years and countless years he had stood all day and most of the night collecting the tickets. Turning each torn half into the shipping clerks for a copper each. A few coppers for a hovel to sleep, a few coppers for the days leftover stew. Life was a struggle for a Half-Orc in a city of beauty.

And now winter was coming on. The fall breeze heralded another change in the seasons. Krrk’s head knew. The breeze off the harbor was the coldest of all. This standing place in front of the Inn was better. The wind was blocked by the tall buildings. There were no tickets to tear here. This was a important job. A job provided by friend Bimble.

Years and years ago, Krrk had caught Bimble sneaking onto the ships without paying for his ticket. Bimble was a young little one then. Often Bimble would sneak onto the ship and not get caught – to lean over the rail and taunt Krrk from the decks of the ship. Krrk was not allowed on the ship. Half-Orcs were not allowed. Krrk always kept an eye open for Bimble. But Bimble disappeared for many years.

Now Bimble got it. And lost the other.

Bimble always paid now.

Always.

Krrk kicked the basket lightly. The three beehives in the basket rolled around in the confines of the wicker, but only a few bees flew forth in aggression. The wind was too cold, the bees knew. Winter was coming.

-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Bimble came to Krrk with the bee things. Handed the basket to Krrk. And flashed a magic paper at Krrk. Krrk tried to tear it on two, but friend Bimble grabbed it back.

“No no Krrk don’t wanna sail anywhere today!”

Putting both hands behind his back he paced up and down Krrks dock slowly, speaking like the important banker man that sailed to Calimport in the spring.

“Krrk, help me sell these candy bee’s!” “Ya see you can make more money selling candy bee’s than by tearing tickets.” “Ya can do it in your spare time - eh?” “Tell you what, you sell them for 5 silver each – FIVE!”

“You can keep 4 of the 5 silver right?”

“Much better money! You can stay warm all winter and eat better.”

Krrk stood motionless waiting for the ticket to tear.

“Well tween you and me this is fool-proof!” “Check this out, its an Elaborate Ruse!” said friend Bimble, waving the magic paper in Krrks face again.

“All you do is stand in front of the Yawning Portal Inn and wait to sell them” “If you have to carry them to the buyers place for them do so. You are strong enough to carry them all. Maybe get a extra copper as a tip for your work.”

“Bimble friend?”, rumbled Krrk.

“Yes, yes that’s why I came straight to you. You are perfect for this job!”

“Perfect!”

-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Krrk was enjoying swatting the little spiral of bee’s that were humming up from the hives in the basket. The screaming group of boys turning out of the alley and running Krrk’s way ended that bit of fun.

As Bimble had instructed, Krrk rumbled “Candy Bee’s forsale.” Slowly and carefully as anyone walked by. As yet no one had purchased a single thing from Krrk. It did not matter. Krrk was used to waiting, and standing.

The young boy’s eyes widened in a moment of clarity as they ran by and entered the Yawning Portal in a rush.

-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Baj rushed past the patrons of the Yawning Portal and ran smack dab into Durnan the proprietor of the Inn. “hold on there young one” bellowed Durnan.

“Mom!” cried Baj as his brothers ran around Baj and Durnan and ran straight to the table where their mother and father were having a dinner of spiced potatoes and sweet ale.

Scrambling around the large girth of Durnan Baj was the last to reach his mother and swatted two brothers to quiet their confusing squeals. “Mom, we ran into some trouble. Think it might be best if we could have some money for some candy!”

“YES” cried the brothers in unison while holding out their hands.

Putting her pewter fork down slowly Mrs. Draggun raised a eyebrow at her boys. In her day she had heard every conceivable excuse to eat candy before dinner – tying it to some kind of trouble was something new. “What trouble is this?”

Traj Draggun sank into his chair, releasing a heavy sigh. Travelling to Waterdeep with his sons and wife had been a ordeal. Five wild boys took much of a parents time. This meal was the first moment in two months of travel that Traj had with his wife. All he asked for was a simple dinner, some of Durnan’s spiced tatars and a good sweet beer. Quietly, he wanted it quietly. Alone with his wife.

All five boys answered their mother at once. Knowing full well that he would be drowned out, little Drak moved to the back of the pack and let his brothers exlain and only managed to get a few words out.

His fathers big hand soon rested on his shoulder, and pulled him near.

“Drak run outta here and find some candy, any candy. We have to end this now.” “Bring it back here and I’ll be paying for a piece for each of ya.” “ Now be quick with ya.”

Drak hesitated for a moment. He looked at his brothers, at his mother and at the frustration in his fathers face. Frustration that was turning to anger quickly.

Making up his mind the little boy turned and ran towards the swinging doors of the Inn. Closely followed by Durnan’s booming voice over the din of the commons room, “Slow down boy!”

-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Bimble sauntered around from behind the long wooden bar that framed one side of the commons room of the Yawning Portal. He had been in this establishment many times before. Before he found it that is. Things weren’t as easy now that he had it of course.

He was met with a strange welcome from Durnan. Of course Bimble was expecting to be in a bit of trouble for using the alley door. That was for fleeing fights only! But insults?

“I’m not a boy! Its me Durnan – Bimble!” yelled the Halfling to the Barkeep.

Nothing had changed in the old Portal! Lots of tables and chairs in the commons room. Herbs and brightly colored stuff hanging from the rafters dried and smoked. A great many wooden tankards with the carved sigil of the Yawning Portal on their sides. The sweet delicious smell of honey beer, OoooOooo that sweet bear. Precious elixir of the Gods. Of Gods! Across the room stood 4 short stout barrels of oak. Each full of honey beer.

Bimble pulled out his tattered paper and looked at it closely.

Just as he rememberd three barrels stacked in a prim pyramid and one. One barrel standing on end, beside the short stack. Still standing in the same place after all these long wandering rambling years.

Bimble headed straight to the barrels like a candy bee heading home after a long day of work! Scanning the tables as he crossed the room, he saw a elf trying some of Durnan’s sweet pastries, slathered with icing. A gaggle of dwarves tipping strong spirits and eating pocket sized meat pies. And my O my how the smell of spiced tatars wafted around the room.

Bimble was almost in a hypnotic trance as he ran pell mell into Durnan’s overly thick left leg – like the trunk of a giant oak.

“Well Bimble! There you are. I’ve been looking for you.” Grumbled Durnan with a frown. “You left town so abruptly after the…”

“Fire?” interrupted Bimble. “Well ya see that wasn’t my fault, never really had anything to do with that. Was just a slight of hand trick I knew that led to that guy kicking around the room in a mad rage.” “Kicking is bad ya know very bad.”

“Did my tab burn all up to nothing?”

“If the kicking guy hadn’t kicked the robed fella and in turn punched the one-eyed man then nothing would have been said.” “After all it’s the words that started the fire.” “If its that then its this I used to say!”

“Heres your tab Hafling, it dinna burn.”, growled Durnan as he pushed a yellowed and tattered piece of paper in Bimbles little hand. “Pay it before ya leave ya little thief.”

Holding both hands out stretched Bimble stared at both hands filled with crumpled paper in amazement. “Dinna burn?”

“Yah, dinna burn wee one. For three long years” , Durnan replied as he walked away.

Bimble turned his attention back to the sweet ale in a daze. He stumbled towards the barrels mumbling, “Dinna burn.” Until he was interupted by the tall human in the booth beside the wonderful sweet beer.

“How goes the Elaborate Ruse Bimble?”

“It dinna burn.”, replied as he emptied one hand of paper in front of Khelben Blackstaff.

-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Drak burst from the Inn and scanned the street quickly only to find one lone figure standing patiently in front of the Yawning Portal.

With a bit of hesitation, daunted by the sinister look and overlarge size of a Half-Orc, Drak managed to squeeze out, “Can you direct me to some candy? We need some quickly. My father will pay well I am sure.”

After a moments silence Krrk rumbled “Candy Bee’s Forsale.” While kicking the wicker basket. “5 silvers if you please.”

Things clicked for Drak. The storyteller had told the boys it was the sweet honey in the candy that had saved him. Honey came from bees and these were special bee’s – candy bees!

Thinking quickly, Drak offered, “I’ll take one for 5 silvers!”

Krrk slowly offered his empty hand to Drak, and smiled. Success!

Drak paniced. “I don’t have the coins, my father does. Follow me to get paid.” And grabbed the Half-orcs rough hand.

Krrk grabbed up the basket and followed the boy with great hesitation into the Yawning Portal.

-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Cleaning the long wooden bar with a greasy rag soaked in vinegar, Durnan turned to see the ticket taker Krrk come walking into his establishment holding hands with one the loud ass tourists boys.

“Orc! Get outta my place, ya know yer not allowed in er – get OUT!”

Clenching fists like hams Durnan jumped the bar and started across the expanse of the commons room, passing a giggling and grinning Bimble.

-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Krrk was nervous. Very nervous. Durnan could make great trouble for Krrk. But it was too late to leave. Standing before the table of red-headed Cormyrian children and their parents he held the basket out. “Candy Bees forsale.”, he muttered quickly.

“Father, Father they are only 5 silvers! It’s the answer to the problem, Baj honey candy like the storyteller told us!”

Traj was a trader, and a good one. He knew with Durnan’s yell and the Half-Orc sudden appearance at the hand of his youngest son that trouble was a heartbeat away. A good trader avoids career ending trouble at all cost. Sometimes its smarter to take a loss to earn it back another day.

“Here Orc, 5 silvers for the boys.” Reaching into his coin bag he quickly threw 6 silvers into the Half-Orcs basket.

Feeling the heavy pounding feet of Durnan pummeling the boards of the floor behind him Krrk felt his heart beating between his ears. As the silver coins hit his basket he quickly reached into the basket and grabbed the largest hive of bees. Once cold with the winter chill they were becoming more active in the radiant heat of the Inn. Flustered and losing control panic began to set in.

Traj could hardly believe what he was seeing as the large Half-Orc pulled a hive from the basket and tore it half! Paniced the Orc grunted, “Please proceed, enter the ship please!” and turned to run out of the Inn, spilling the rest of the contents of the basket in front of the furious Durnan as he did.

-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Khelben Blackstaff, Archmage of Waterdeep was taken back by the sudden appearance of a cloud of stinging honey bees that filled the interior of the commons room of the Yawning Portal Inn.

Elves and dwarves were kicking their chairs aside to flee the room, while tables were tossed aside like kindling. The nice family from Cormyr was diving for the floor. Suffering from the swarming buzz of the angry bee’s. The sound of shattered oak punctuated the air in the room with a large –WHACK- followed by a small splash.

Quickly reaching into a small velvet pocket Khelben mixes a handful of flower pollen and a pinch of brimstone. Tossing it high in the air it covered the room like a yellow cloud, as the Archmage spoke the words, “laisuduehr”.

On completion of the spell all the bees touched by the pollen high in the air above the paniced crowd burst into flame!

-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

As suddenly as it had started the chaotic scene ended.

Leaving all the participants in disarry and wondering what had happened. All except Durnan.

“BIMBLE”, screamed Durnan. Where is that little thief and trouble maker!

With a splash and a loud wheezing cough, Bimble jumped from the standing barrel of sweet beer. Completely drenched with the sweet nectar, he stood choking as if a drowning man had been drug to shore in a lifesaving effort.

“I’m ok Durnan, I’m ok!” answered Bimble. “Good thing this beer was here. Bee’s cant swim!” laughed Bimble. With that Bimble coughed and wheezed again half heartedly. Feigning weakness and falling into the barrel once again – gulping and choking sweet beer down by the mouthful.

The barrel that Bimble stood in shook as the enraged Durnan started running towards the little halfling. Awkwardly Bimble fumbled his way drunkenly out of the barrel and flopped on the floor. Slipping and falling inn the sticky sweet beer spilled all over the floor and permeating his clothing.

-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

As Bimble flopped on the floor with no sense of direction. The Draggun boys sounded off with a single voice, “Its sick! He’s convulsing! Its oozing poison! Run for your lives! That’s the Halfling that killed Hyssk with disease.

“It’s cursed!”

“With the plague!”

“It’s the Halfling of DOOM!”, cried Drak.

Once again the commons room irrupted in chaos as all in the Yawning Portal jumped to their feet and made haste to the door. The boys apparent belief in their words and honest sincerity swayed all who heard their paniced calls.

-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Bimble fumbled his way to his knees and looked up at the raging face of his old friend Durnan, “I don’t feel so good Durnan.” Promptly emptying the contents of his stomach at the feet of human.

The screams of the Corymrians were beginning to make sense to Durnan. Something was wrong with Bimble. He had been missing for years, a not so humble thief now had no agility what so ever. Once a pickpocket and lockpicker this Bimble had changed significantly. Bimble felt – well Wrong.

Durnan backed away as the Halfling of Doom stood on wobbling legs. First one step them two. Not caring what path he took, Durnan began to back away. Tipping over the table with pastries and sweets of the Elven dignitary. Spilling them to the floor as he made his way to the door while watching the rabid Halfling.

-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

An opportunity is an opportunity to a halfling and sweet smelling sweets slathered in gallons of creamy icing was too much to resist even for a drunken Bimble.

“After all something to eat will make me feel right as reign!”, thought Bimble.

Waddling to the fallen sweets, following Durnan’s footsteps Bimble counted.

“One and a two.”

“Tree n a Fur.”

“Sixen and Fivens”

“The sixen second rule’ens been met!”

With that he smiled at Durnan and fell to the floor amongst the sweets, “Six seconds they are all bad Durnan. Let me help ya clean em up eh?” Bimble said as he filled his pockets with sweets.

The big proprietor was not smiling. The Halflings speech was slurred and it walked with a odd six beat cadence, like it had the dropsy or the falling sickness. He moved away again, spilling the meat pies and crushing a few under his large boots.

Feeling the rush of sugar, Bimble began to feel MUCH better! And since you couldn’t stuff your face with pastries and count to six to meet the requirements of the well known and internationally recognized six second rules of falling – Bimble began to dance. The stumpy herky-jerky dance of a rolly polly halfling. All to a six beat cadence, and with each completion of his little six second dance he flopped, fell and rolled on the floor pocketing meat pies and pastries!

Durnan’s eyes grew wide as he watched the halfling go into a convulsing dance of death! “FLEE!” he screamed, all pretense of heroism gone. Alas only he, Bimble and the old Mage remained. Durnan turned and ran.

-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Khelben looked at the pictures on the scrap of paper laying on his favorite dining table. Marveling at the pictures of bee’s and Half-Orcs. Of Snakemen and shape shifting monsters of the imagination. A intricate map of the Yawning Portal was scrawled in one corner.

Bimble looked at him with glee and happiness, and said “I got it!”

Walking casually past the little halfling reveling in sweets and pies, drunk and giggling wildly – he looked around the empty room, and said – “Elaborate Roobs indeed.”

From between the swinging doors of the Portals entrance, Durnan yelled, “mage whats he got? Are we going to be ok?”

“Yes good Durnan you all are safe.” “Bimble seems to have lost his skills as rogue and found it.”

“What what?”

“Why Durnan he has found his god. Bimble thinks he is Brandobaris. He found religon!”

-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

end

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