Into the Forest

Trees are of prodigious height and girth, most towering to more than 50 feet. (Yes, Chet does not believe in the Metric System, which was invented by Dan Ackroyd on Saturday Night Live. Therefore, it is filed away with the Bass-O-Matic.) Trunks would require two people's arms to encircle. Pine needles and leaf piles are damp, a bit soggy, and dampen any sounds made by your packbeasts. Roots occasionally protrude, but it's the roots that are covered which you and your beast need to watch out for.

Grandfather seems to be following a path, but you sure can't see a path. But give me a LvL2 SR on IQ and/or a LvL2 SR on LUCK to see what happens.

Visibility sucks mop water here. (Herr Doktor, give me a LvL1 SR on WIZ.) Lots of sounds here. Chittering, screeching, and scuffling. For some reason, you feel like an intruder. And the hair on the back of your neck is certain that you're being watched.

Smelly vegetation covers what appears to be a rocky outcropping of about 50 feet, which just clears the top of the trees.

Following the Greybat method of throwing 1d6 to determine an encounter (said encouter to occur if the 1d6 lands instead of hovering in mid-air) the sounds of the forest -

stop.

Fugitives

There's nothing Herr Doktor or anyone could have done for this fellow, though H.D. is, almost furiously, examining the wound and seeking any possibilities of resuscitation. Eolthala looks to be doubling over, as if she's trying to not become sick. For a moment, all but Herr Doktor are in shock. (Except Jay. Where did he go?)

The grandfather startles into movement. "She knows," he whispers. "she knows?" Then: "To horse, my friends! We must not delay! Granddaughter - find something for them to wear. Something where they won't be so obvious and - uh - alien!"

Herr Doktor may not have heard. He clearly has not yet given up on his patient.

[[Apologies for my absence this week. MM attacks have been frequent and severe, probably due to the severe weather which hurt Oklahoma so badly. Our continued prayers, support (financial and otherwise) to friends and relatives who are proving their courage and resilience once again.]]

And Now Some Violence

Grandfather registers shock! "Granddaughter! Do not panic. This is more than pain - but it is not your pain! Calm. Breathe. This is not your pain.

"Yet you have seen something and it frightens you. What is it? What is it? Does it threaten the Doctor or all of us?"

The young girl stammers, begins to answer, but then the door is crushed apart and a large - ogre (?) falls through, landing on the splinters, raising himself onto one elbow. He shouts - he almost screams.

"Master! She knows! The queen knows!" 

Only now, as  do some of you see the broken haft of what must be a spear, imbedded in his back. As he speaks, blood and mucus spurts from his nose and mouth, and when he falls face first, you learn what ogre entrails look and smell like, as they spill from the angry wound in his back.

An Old Friend?

Grandfather finds a scrap of papyrus and hums a bit to himself as he scans it. He looks up. "This shouldn't be a bit of trouble, Doctor Hair. Jay is correct, isn't he? You're not much a believer in spirits, now are you?"

He turns to Eolthala. "Granddaughter, would you mind coming over here and placing your --" He looks down at the papyrus. "--your RIGHT hand on the good doctor's forehead? Now just relax, doctor, and think pleasant thoughts......"

As Eolthala moves into position, he reaches into his robe --

Fluently Asked Questions

It's not a fast food joint at a spaceport, it's not a country inn, and it's not even what the locals would call an inn. It's just a hovel built against a cave, but the owner is a part of whatever this underground movement is. You've been introduced to him, Jay Scottsmart, and you have the impression that he was once a soldier of some sort. Now he gets along with the help of two crutches and a wooden leg.

"We shall rest here for tonight," the Grandfather tells you. "And, finally -"

(He is interrupted by Mr Scottsmart's delivery of the main course, "skjelte." Everybody gimme a LvL1 SR and I'll roll against you as if I was actually impartial or something.)

"And finally," Grandfather continues as he adjusts his bib, "you may have questions. We now have time to answer them. Are there questions?"

First Sighting!

"Granddaughter! Throw the cloak over them! Fast! We ride!"

Why did the old man sound so urgent? And why, when he points his finger out in the field, does a large pile of dung appear where the trench was? (The trench that you may have assumed was your landing spot.)

The cart speeds forward at roughly three times the speed of a normal cart, and you feel no bumps. In the sky, shining a spotlight to the far side of the field, you see

Abandoned?

Eolthala is pulling on the engineer's arm now and pleading. "Oh please, Sir dwarf, I cannot lift you or your friends to the cart. And a ship is  bounded to arrive soon.  -  Grandfather - -.?"

The old man pulls on his staff to unsteadily rise. "After all these years... I thought if I were here, I could save them. I was young then," he moans to the young lady. "I had but barely married when the mountain fell out of Heaven and the earth call--"

"Yes,  Grandfather. " Eolthala softly says." Get in the cart,  Grandfather. I shall be there momentarily. "

Eyes in the Sky

"We must hurry, Grandfather," urges the green haired lass. "Our cloak won't last much longer."

This IS a real post. Stuff actually happens now.

First we hear from the Amazing Sid, who is in for a big surprise in a half dozen turns or so:

As soon as he sees the girl, L'wisz turns on his widest and brightest smile for her (it may look more like he has gas as it's a group of facial muscles that don't get much of a workout in our engineer).

"Green has always been my very favourite colour.. And yes my dear, I do have tremendous pain tolerance even above that which is considered normal for my race. Now, I wonder if you might be able to find me some medical help to straighten that naughty bone out and pop it back where it belongs?"

With that, he coughs loudly to conceal the half sob and half whimper that escapes as he takes his first look at the damage.

 Regards

Sid

Then from Sid's character, whom he calls L'wisz but who shall linger as "Sarge" in my hallucinations. Well, we'll hear from Sarge AND Eolthala.

L'wisz didn't even get a chance to LOOK at the damage before he felt a powerful Twist, Push, and SNAP! His earlier SR kept him from passing out, but that means he gets to watch the following. (Having missed the really fun part.)

Eolthala, with blood all over her hands and smudges of blood on her upper body, Is folding some sort of cloth over  SSgt (I can't help myself!) L'wisz's leg. Evidently she'd slipped it under the leg while he was still raving, because he KNOWS she didn't wrap it around his leg AFTER she'd set the bone. She sings some short little verse, and pours a little water on the cloth. The cloth swells, then almost immediately hardens to the consistency of concrete. Herr Doktor would be envious if he weren't stoned. L'wisz thinks he might be in love, but he feels kinda stoned too.

Emma: for some reason, you're thinking about hedgehogs, but that's not important now. You automatically know that L'wisz is in good hands, and that Herr Doktor is going into shock for some reason. You want to investigate either of these fellows, or do something - or say something - else?

The old man looks puzzled and a little guilty. He was showing something to Herr Doktor, and the good doctor passed out! 

the Three Simple Steps of How to Post a Comment (or "action") on the McBride Gambit blog

This is not a real post to the adventure. Repeat: this is not an actual turn to the adventure. If this were an actual post, you'd have been directed to an emergency radio station where you'd have heard someone screaming and crying. Repeat: This has only been a test. Thank you, and good afternoon.

1. Go to:  http://mcbridegambit.blogspot.com/

2. Click on the most recent post to read it. If you have already read it, skip step 2 and go to step 3. Do not pass GO. Do not collect $200.

3. Click on "no comments" to comment IF you are the first victim to comment on that particular post. Otherwise, click on "comments." The word "comments" will be preceded by a numeral, which indicates the number of comments already commented on, or with, or by. Maybe. Define "comments." For extra points, define "define."

4. There is no number four.

5. After you type your comment, you'll see a pull-down menu just below. It's asking how you want to be remembered. You can sign in with your Google account most easily. (Blogger.com is owned by Google. Soon everything will be owned by Google & Microsoft and they'll merge into Googlesoft.) But you can also sign in with several other types of accounts (Wordpress, OpenID, etc): pick one. If you don't have an account with any of the listed weird things, you may either sign in as the default of "Anonymous" (In which case, please sign your name at the end of your post. NOT ON YOUR SCREEN WITH A MAGIC MARKER!  Sheesh, how many times do I hafta warn people about that?) or you may create an account with any of the weird things listed. Again, I recommend Google because it's easiest and because they already have all your secret information anyway and are auctioning it through whitehouse.ebay.gov.

6. You may preview it and then publish it, publish it without previewing it, preview it without publishing it, or any of the above combined in any fashion that blogger.com will allow before it fries your computer in anger.

7. You may also "subscribe by email" to let you know when a new post arrives. I try to remember to alert you all whenever I put up a new entry. (I wonder if I dare call it a "turn" ?) If you don't trust my memory and/or want to know when anyone else posts a comment, this is what you'd click. I've never done it, so I don't know what happens after this. Perhaps everyone who was ever an Avenger arrives at your home asking for cookies. Let us know how it turns out.

These have been the Three Simple Steps of How to Post a Comment (or "action") on the McBride Gambit blog. 

And remember that the world is divided into three kind of people: those who can count, and those who cannot.