Tales of the Stinky Dwarf

[Gnarlitch]

The scene opens upon what appears to be a gladiatorial arena. The stands are mostly filled with exuberant fans, screaming and shouting and stomping their fee until a person could scarce hear their own thoughts. At one end of the arena some doors open and in steps a dwarf wearing heavy plate armor and carrying a shield. An announcers voice booms out over the cacophony that fills the arena, announcing that this dwarf will be fighting is a bout called a Monster Mash with five separate encounters, all to the death. If he survives he will win15,000 gold pieces. The crowd gets even more excited, although you would have doubted that that would have been possible before actually witnessing the phenomenon. Most think that the dwarf is insane and is headed for a violent and messy death. Little does the dwarf know that his own boon companions in the audience are also unsure that he will survive. And they are worried, because much more than the dwarf’s life is resting on this fight, although no one has informed the dwarf.

 

After the announcement, the dwarf takes a tentative step forward into the arena, drawing a short bow from across his back and knocking an arrow, scanning for trouble. Finding none, he begins a cautious movement to his left, knowing that with any step a monster may appear. When he’s gone about twenty feet, suddenly the air shimmers and a pair of metal lions appear in front of him. They roar as they begin to charge. Quick as thought, the dwarf looses an arrow into a lion’s leg, hoping to slow it, following with a second and third shots to the body before the lion is upon him. The beast swipes back at him, but in its “weakened” state it misses, and the dwarf buries a fourth arrow into the beast’s chest, dropping it to the dusty arena floor.

 

Before the dwarf is able to recover from that shot, the second lion is on him, swiping at him and tearing into his armor. The dwarf fumbles a bit putting away his bow and readying his shield and magic war hammer. CLANG! He strikes a hard blow to the lion’s head, leaving a large dent. The lion counter attacks, shredding more of his armor. They continue to attack back and forth a bit, and then WHAM! The dwarf delivers a massive blow crushing the lion’s head and dropping it in its tracks. Black fluids and smoke gush forth while the dwarf pauses to catch his breath and inspects the metal beast, the likes of which he has never seen before.

 

Apparently he took too long resting, as he looks up in time to see three troll appear across the arena from him. They see him as well and charge. He responds by throwing his hammer at the lead troll, hitting it below the knee and shattering its lower leg, causing it to fall to the ground. The other two trolls rush past their fallen comrade and attack the dwarf, who is using the lion carcasses for a bit of cover. He seems to hold his own against them for a time, giving as good as he gets, and then he begins backing towards a large brazier burning the corner. He seems to have realized that trolls have a weakness against fire. The fight continues slowly, with the dwarf dealing out plenty of damage, but taking damage to shield, armor, and body in return. Suddenly one of the trolls leaps forward and delivers a telling blow, biting through armor to flesh and bone, crushing the dwarf’s left shoulder, leaving his arm dangling almost useless. The dwarf now seems to realize that he may be in trouble, especially since the third troll seems to have healed itself and is now charging towards him as well. He delivers a massive blow of his own, shattering the leg of one of the trolls in front of him, and then he sprints in the opposite direction he had been going, heading for a “power stone” and possible healing.

 

Using the stones is a great risk, as they can have one of two effects, the first of which is healing. The second, however, is not a pleasant thought, as it would teleport him to a random location somewhere else in the arena, and possibly into the area of another as of yet unseen monster. And his hands are already full. Luckily for him, a glow surrounds him as he touches the stone, and he feels greatly refreshed, although not completely healed.

 

Just in time he turns from the stone and throws his hammer, taking another troll in the leg and dropping it to the ground. Another troll is upon him immediately, however, and another is regaining its feet, already healed of the broken leg. The desperate fight continues, with the dwarf smashing legs to keep the trolls from him and the trolls healing themselves rapidly enough that there are almost always two attacking at any time. Then, with a lucky flurry of blows, all three trolls are down at the same time and the dwarf dashes over to the wall where there is a torch. He begins combining hammer throw attacks (the hammer returns to his hand magically each time he throws it, and magically does triple damage when thrown as well), with burning the nearest troll with the torch.

 

With a combination of luck and skill, the dwarf is able to keep all three trolls down, just barely, and receives another dose of healing from the now recharged power stone. Sadly, the torch seems to be having little effect. Switching tactics yet again, the dwarf changes weapons, now using an axe to cut a troll’s head off. He then places the burning torch against the stump of remaining neck on the body and throws the head towards the brazier in the corner. He then moves on and repeats the process with the other two trolls. Once all three heads are severed and the necks cauterized, the dwarf stumbles to the corner and tosses the heads into the flaming brazier. Amazingly, one of the heads had already re-grown much of its body, and it screamed when thrown into the fire. The dwarf then moves back towards the same power stone, touching it for another dose of healing and feels completely refreshed, although his armor is looking pretty ragged already. Then, he begins to advance up the field into as yet untouched territory.

 

After proceeding about 30 or 40 feet without incident, the air shimmers before him again, revealing a pair of ugly stone statues…that come to life and move to attack! The dwarf puts the magic hammer to good use again, breaking chunks and chips from the golems with every blow, and only taking minor injury in the process. In a very short time, both golems are destroyed and our hero pauses once again to catch his breath, hoping that maybe the final two encounters will be as easy as this one…and praying to his gawd that they won’t be as tough as the trolls were.

 

In a short time he is ready and advances forward once again, this time covering more distance before the air shimmers once again, REVEALING A WHITE DRAGON! Using every last ounce of his strength, the dwarf hurls his hammer for the dragon’s head, scoring a mighty blow that knocks the dragon’s head backwards and the beast falls to the ground. Cheers erupt from all sides! The dwarf seems to have killed the dragon with one blow! Then, a glow shimmers around the large, white-scaled beast, and it rises back to its feet, letting loose a deafening roar and a jet of icy breath that takes the dwarf full in the face and almost drops him to his knees, destroying the shredded remains of his armor. Some how he stands his ground, however, and throws the hammer again, and again, while the dragon charges and begins tearing him to pieces. The dwarf attempts to move towards the nearest power stone, hoping for healing but knowing that teleportation would also be useful. He is on his last legs as he reaches the stone, bleeding profusely from many wounds. As he touches the stone, once again a glow surrounds him, delivering some blessed healing. He then digs down deep for some extra reserves of resolve and continues to fight, pounding away at the dragon while it claws and bites at him. The battle is long and bloody. At the end, both combatants seem mostly dead and barely on their feet. The dwarf delivers a final blow to the dragon’s head, dropping it, and then staggering back to the stone for another dose of healing.

 

With the healing, the dwarfs looks somewhat better, at least he is moving better at any rate, but what little armor is left attached to his body is in shards and tatters, and his magic shield is heavily scarred. He moves to the fallen dragon, pulling out an axe once again, and chopping off the beast’s head and lifting it up to the wild cheers from the audience. He then tosses it away and moves back to the first power stone for another dose of healing. With that he feels fully refreshed once again, and seems to become aware that he has now armor left. He takes his time removing it, keeping a weapon ready and watching for the final encounter. He thinks, if a dragon was the fourth encounter, what the firk is going to be the fifth and final one? To his surprise, no other monsters appear in the time it takes to remove the broken armor. So, he picks his shield and hammer back up, touches the stone for another precautionary dose of healing, and then proceeds to move cautiously towards the final unexplored section of the arena.

 

The crowd is hushed in anticipation, being able to see what comes next, but being unable to tell the dwarf. Finally, the air shimmers in front of him once again. This time the dwarf finds himself confronted with what looks like a pair of large black panthers with strange whip/club like appendages sprouting from their backs. He fires his bow at them, using a rapid-fire maneuver in an attempt to kill at least one of the two before they can reach him. The targeted cat seems to shimmer and shift to the side five feet at the arrows hit it, making it uncertain if any damage is being done. Just before they reach him he performs a tumbling maneuver to his left, making for the closest power stone, while at the same time changing back to his trusty hammer.

 

The fight turns vicious and bloody, the cats tearing great wounds in the dwarfs now unprotected body, while he smashes them repeatedly with his hammer. Finally one goes down in a bloody heap and the dwarf is able to touch the power stone. The healing fills him with a refreshing rush and an apparent adrenaline boost, as he discards both shield and hammer for a pair of axes. He attacks in a frenzy with both hands, chopping and hacking while the cat responds with claws, teeth, and whips. With a final roar, the cat falls, and our hero stands above it looking a bloody mess. He makes his way back towards the dragon, following the known safe path, and visiting the power stone for healing as he goes. The fight should be over now, and the crowd is chanting his name, ”GNAR LITCH! GNAR LITCH! GNAR LITCH!” Upon reaching the fallen dragon, he once again picks up its head, raising it in triumph!

 

*Author’s note. This is the story of an RPG arena battle fought under the HackMaster gaming system. My character amazingly survived. When the dragon went down from a single blow, and then got back up, I had dropped it unconscious from a critical hit to the head, doing 53 points of damage in a level 20 crit. The dragon was not dead, but would have been before being able to regain consciousness. However, the GM purged honor to nullify that hit, and the battle resumed. In order to survive, I ended up burning 55 points of honor towards extra damage dice, and used either four or five coupons, all just to survive the dragon that should have been dead. Man was I pissed at the time. I felt robbed! How could he do that to me? Logic and reason, however, tell me that I would have done the same thing if I had been playing the dragon. Having the ability to save myself from certain death within the rules, I would have done so. But, still, I feel cheated of being able to brag about having killed a dragon with a single blow. But wait…isn’t that what I’m doing right now? wink wink*

[Tanuchan]

It's nice seeing you post a story, Gnarly And I must say that your description is realy colorful and made me "see" the whole scene.

 

But there's one thing that confused me a bit when I read this, and it's the setting. In the beginning you said the scene is "what appears to be a gladiatorial arena", then later you go on with "...advance up the field into as yet untouched territory." It may be just me, but I visualize an arena as an open space, and your adventure seems to be placed in a more dungeon-like space (what would make sense, knowing it came from a HackMaster game). This "shock" of visions broke a bit the flow of the story for me. Maybe this "Monster Mash" could be happening in an arena with a maze-like (and open to the air, so people can see it) building in it? But, as I said, it could be just me

 

 

Also, when you write

 

He begins combining hammer throw attacks (the hammer returns to his hand magically each time he throws it, and magically does triple damage when thrown as well), with burning the nearest troll with the torch.

that long sentence in parenthesis breaks the flow (again, for me). Maybe you could do like you did with the power stone, and write the explanation in a separate sentence? Or maybe add a line or two in the beginning of the story, where the dwarf goes mentally over his weapons and resources just before entering the arena?

 

There's also some typos ("fee" = "feet" in second line, and some 's where the ' is missing) but they're minor.

 

It's not really my kind of story, but I liked all the sense of movement and the tension you built with your description. I hope you find the time to write more, for you know I've always liked the way you bring to life what you "see" in your mind.

 

*hugs*

 

~Tanny

[Gnarlitch]

for clarification, this was inside a large stadium-like area, about double the legnth and width of your standard soccer or football arena. Oddly enough, however, the staduim was underground, but had an extremely high ceiling for the dragon to be able to take flight. The monsters themselves are hidden from the fighter's view by a magical force field until the fighter crosses an unseen line. The audience, however, can actually see all of the monsters from the beginning, and hence, will hold their breath when the fighter is about to step into the territory of something particularly nasty.

[Tanuchan]

Ahhh... thanks, now it makes sense

 

When is the next tale coming out?

Edited June 21, 2004 by Tanuchan

[Jammeez]

I'll add a chapter to the Stinky Dwarf saga. This is a piece I wrote after a particularly hefty double game session battle against several giants and some other nasties. We we're infiltrating a Villa of Giant Marauders. Gnarlitch, the Stinky Dwarf has performed admirably in battle, as have all of our companions, including an elfin ranger named Wintermoon and a female elfin fighter named Trinity, a pixie fairy named Rock, and several NPC Henchmen, including a cleric-for-hire named Harthwarg. My character, Rex, a half-elven Magic User has been instrumental in turning the tide of battle, using a Wand of Frost in conjunction with a Decanter of Endless Water (a magical firehose) held by Everett the Cleric...

 

The silence was stunning, and for a moment Rex was unsure where she was, or even that she had survived...She had survived...hadn't she? Still clutching her precious wand in a numb fist, Rex sank limply to her knees and pulled her robes close. She was dimly aware of her companions picking through the bloody, frozen dining hall. She didn't dare hope that the villa was cleared of the enemy, but it did seem to be safe...for now.

 

Rex's mind began to replay the recent battles - or was it one long fight? She remembered sailing through the air at least once, landing hard, but rolling to her feet quickly, albeit awkwardly. Her body ached from strain and tension and countless bruises...there was sticky blood on her face - she wasn't sure from where - and breathing was nothing less than excruciating. But Everett and Harth were out of spells, and the potions had been used up.

 

Then an urgent voice cut through the fog of pain, a voice demanding action and leaving no room for denial or delay. "Winter and Rock, you track down the stragglers. Rex, with me!" She had an idea what Gnarlitch's intension was, and though her heart wrung at the very thought, she also knew this chore must be done. They'd bypassed that door for the last time, putting off the inevitable. There would be no more party discussion on the subject. This decision would be taken off the shoulders of her friends.

 

Rex dragged herself up and crossed the treacherous flagstones to the North door, and turned left to follow the stinky dwarf's footsteps. He was poised at the nursery door, with a rope looped over the latch, ready to fling it wide. He conveyed his plan with a glance, and she nodded grimly and readied the Wand of Frost once more. Was there a "nanny" to deal with within this room? Were the children sleeping in their "little" beds after a long evening at rambunctious play?

 

But all these thoughts were quashed and time seemed to drown in thick honey when the door swung open, and Rex began to pour her psyche into the wand, the words of power spilling over her lips. A dozen pudgy faces turned toward the door in curiosity as Rex suddenly realized that the room beyond was too small for an Ice Storm. Rex cursed inwardly; she would have to do this with Cone of Cold alone, and she feared that spell would be insufficient to make this quick and painless.

 

Itchy's hammer flew from his hand with surety, hitting one of these six-foot younglings squarely in the face before returning to his hand. But the moppets were already charging the door with wicked-looking clubs raised high, faces that reason dictated should have been innocent, contorted with an ugly malevolence. Rex's wand exploded then, and the blizzard blast knocked half of the inhabitants of the nursery off their feet, never to rise, a certain blessing for the one whose nose gushed a fountain of blood, and whose face would never have been right again.

 

Her resolve threatened to break. Rex's fear that this would not be a clean kill was now terrible reality. But she began charging the wand once more and aimed over Itchy's head as he lashed out with the hammer again, this time taking a boy-child in the temple and dropping him cold.

 

Another white, biting cloud of absolute zero enveloped the nursery, and when it cleared only two cubs remained on their feet, the closest of which swung wildly with its club. Itchy threw himself in its path to protect the mage, and grunted with the solid impact. But he used the momentum to advantage, swinging the heavy hammer to collide sickeningly with the skull of his assailant.

 

Wanting nothing more than to be elsewhere, for this nightmare to end, and soon, Rex gathered her determination for one last eruption. The furious flurry froze the last pup in its tracks. It toppled with a thud in the doorway...stunned silence fell once more...

 

Rex was sure now that some of her ribs were broken, for she almost passed out from the agony of retching until she had nothing left to give. She hardly noticed Gnarlitch's own paroxysms, though the stench of vomit in the corridor was no worse than his normal fragrance. Then he was standing over her and pulling her to her feet. "Up, girl! We haven't time to feel sorry. The deed is done, and our comrades await. We're in no condition to withstand another attack. We've got to make it safely out!" Rex knew he was right. He was maddeningly right too often for comfort.

 

Without a backward glance for the "small" bodies lying in a crystaline wonderland beyond the nursery door, the young enchantress stumbled back the way she had come. There was no need to look back; the faces of dead babes were burned onto the backs of her eyes, floating like the image left behind after staring at the sun.

 

Rex would never forget...

Edited October 6, 2005 by Jammeez