Quendy’s Log: That kobold problem…

Along the mess with the mirror, there was the horny imp. And then, there was that epic fight against the kobolds…

The paladin – and that predates her paladinhoodity – was plagued by the nightly visits of a horny imp.

Heh. I was working on the lyrics for that song before the music died. I wonder if I still have them somewhere?

Anyway, this nefarious and highly entertaining creature would pop out of nowhere and try to uhm… lets say satisfy its urges before vanishing.

We never managed to capture it and find out what the heck these episodes were all about. I remember trying to convince the then-cleric-now-paladin to actually allow the creature to bring his activities to a climax, assuming that it would make its capture easier. Can’t remember if something came out of this (so to speak of).

Anyway, so, Bridget was in her room at the inn, alone with the oh-so-spooky mirror when the imp appeared again. She spotted him as he was holding the mirror and admiring its reflection.

The imp – which I promptly named « Spike », even though it said it already had a name – was wearing clothes, not attempting anything on the paladin and not vanishing into thin air.

Of course, this only fueled Bridget’s belief that the mirror was magic.

Oh, look, the mirror summoned the imp! It was the mirror after all!

Well, nobody ever said paladins were made to help turn in a profit, right?

Spike denied having anything to do with the mirror (surprise!). He said we were the only earthbound creatures he knew (poor fellow) and decided to stick with us. When questioned about his earlier interactions with a certain member of our crew, he quickly apologized, explaining that he was summoned and bound by powerful magic and forced to do these horrible, yet enjoyable actions.

With the current situation – you know, with Mystra being dead and all that stuff – his captor no longer held any power over him. (Yeah, sure). And he never got to know the identity of the wizard who misused him. (How convenient).

Bridget, while holding no love for Spike, accepted this as truth.

I mean, sure, trust someone who basically tried to rape you that said « an evil wizard made me do it! I swear! » – but distrust 5 experts that say « this mirror is ugly as a bulette’s droppings, has no magical properties whatsoever, but its worth a mint », on the basis that « the mirror might be used for evil! ».

Lets sell the mirror. Let the evil ones use it.

They need the reflection.

Please don’t kill me.

The next day, we brought Spike to the nearest person who could take him off our hands (or other body parts) and we made way towards the kobolds hideout we were hired to clean up.

Now, if they ever decide to write a book with the definition of all words known to man, besides « epic fight », you would not find mention of this fight.

However, the kobold equivalent might.

So we were in the woods, right, tracking kobolds when our potent tracker discovered a few of the critters, guarding an entrance to some kind of grotto.

Those of us not dumb enough to weight ourselves down with noisy pieces of metal pushed forward a bit to evaluate at the situation.

Two split groups. We could try to attract one group and embush them – with luck the second group wouldn’t notice before our wizard could send a flaming ball rolling their way.

Great plan.

We readied our ranged weapons in a « corridor » of trees and our fearless wizard (I hear lack of fear actually means wisdom deficiency) magically attracted their attention through the creative use of sounds.

The kobolds sentry slowly came our way to investigate and was rapidly transformed into an arrow-pincushion.

So far so good.

The other kobolds actually heard us and started coming at us through the woods (oh no! a corridor made of trees is not a real corridor? really?). Turn out they weren’t much to fear – we quickly dispatched them – we barely got injured.

We pressed slowly forward towards the grotto – conveniently « hidden » behind a waterfall.

Then, from behind the waterfall a beam of light came straight at us, barely missing us and burning a patch of grass!

Stoically, the group fled the scene and ran to the village for help, leaving what I suppose was an old, single shaman that had used his only remaining spell for the day.




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