The Pen Confection Tasting Convention

[Wyvern]

Wyvern bites on one of his claws as he reviews his Conservatory checklist, flipping the sheet over and comparing it to the request letter from Finnius and Tanuchan written on the other side. The project was hardly the party they had initially envisioned him hosting, but he hoped that the All Hallows pennite cheer would seep in through the copious amounts candy. The overgrown lizard ducks under the glossy jack-o-lantern pie decorations that hang from the Conservatory entrance, passing the stuffed turkeys with bat wings that sit like guards at both sides of the doorway. The floor of the Conservatory has been covered with dirty paper towels, and a number of empty wooden stands line the walls of the chamber. Wyvern glances up at the giant candy yam decoration that hangs from the ceiling, sticking out his tongue and making sure that its still sprinkling sugar snow before wandering through the room and bumping the various stands with one of his claws. Once the overgrown lizard is certain that all of the stands are sturdy, he moves back to the entrance of the room and tacks up a sign that reads:

 

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Introducing:

The Pen Confection Tasting Convention

Brought to you by Almost Dragonic Brand Mummy Bandage Candy Wrappers™

 

Instructions:

 

I. Participants create a candy meant to honor and represent a particular pennite, with or without the use of Almost Dragonic Brand Mummy Bandage Candy Wrappers™.

 

II. Participants wait for their honored pennite to taste their candy in the hopes of an opinion or reaction. With or without the use of Almost Dragonic Brand Mummy Bandage Candy Wrappers™.

 

III. Should that honored pennite be interested, that honored pennite can also create a candy honoring another pennite, with or without the use of Almost Dragonic Brand Mummy Bandage Candy Wrappers™.

 

IV. Wash, rinse, repeat advertisements for Almost Dragonic Brand Mummy Bandage Candy Wrappers™.

 

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Having set up and proofread the sign, Wyvern rubs his claws together and heads over to one of the many vacant booths. He plops into the wooden chair and rests his tail stinger on the tabletop as he reaches down for his heavy confections. Wyvern grunts as he sets what looks like several large clubs capable of serious bludgeoning onto his table. The overgrown lizard grins as he knocks on one of the clubs to make sure it's solid as a rock, then lets the tips of his forked tongue touch the club to make sure that the concentrated sugar it's composed of is still ultra-sweet to the core. He jolts upright as the sugar content of the club dances through his mouth, then grins and waves a claw in the air.

 

"Ssssstep right up, getcher bonifide Yog-Worthy Troll Sugar Clubs right here! Honoring Da Yog, thessse sugary weapons not only make a great dessert, but also are perfect for mugging other pennites for their candy! Who needs sugar sticks when you can have full-blown sugar CLUBS?! Limited quantities, 30 geld a piece, though Da Yog can taste'em for free!"

 

;-)

[Da_Yog]

A scent of sweetness caught my nose as I strolled by the sign labeled, "The Pen Confection Tasting Convention." I raised my scaly nose to the air and sniffed, sucking in huge mouthfuls of air through each nostril then raised Da Club(Middle Earth patent pending) to my noggin' and scratched my head with the mithril spike at its end. As I pondered the strange scent, an old scale rubbed off under the assault of the spike and tumbled haphazardly to the ground.

 

Suddenly, as if in a moment of sudden lu...lucid...clarity, yeah dats it clarity, I realized the scent of candy and began barreling towards the source like a starving bear smelling fresh carrion. I barely noticed the little lizard as I brushed past him, sending him spinning off to the side like a top wound too tight. It was then that I became confuse…again. Before me lay several strange clubs. This was clearly not the con…confec…candy I was looking for. I began sniffing the air again, my scaly nostrils flaring like coals being fanned by a hot bellows.

 

“Yog smell candy!” I bellowed as I glared about the stand.

 

My eyes narrowed into evil red slits as I spotted and suddenly took notice of the small, yet somehow overgrown lizard.

 

“You try to trick Yog! Yog not like being tricked!” I yelled as I raised Da Club (Middle Earth patent pending). One black scale hung pre…precar…loosely from the tip of the mithril spike, adhered to its position by a mass of slowly con…congeal…drying blood. The thick scale bobbled up and down with each thunderous footstep as I closed in on the little yet somehow overgrown lizard.

 

“Where candy, or Yog brain you!” I shouted at the top of my lungs when I was mere steps away…

[Wyvern]

Wyvern stammers and backs away as Da Yog storms towards his booth, his enormous spiked club raised in hand. The overgrown lizard reaches for one of the Sugar Clubs at his stand, only to yelp as Yog's club comes crashing down upon the confections, shattering them to pieces. Wyvern grits his teeth and scrambles for pieces of his candy on the Conservatory floor, only to pause and gulp as a troll-shaped shadow looms over him. His scales droop as he stares up at Yog with tiny reptilian eyes.

 

"Eheheh, hiya Yog, glad ya could make it. Lisssten, about the whole candy thing..."

 

"Yog want CANDY!"

 

Wyvern grimaces and quickly grabs a piece of broken sugar club from the floor, darting away seconds before Yog's club makes a spike-shaped impact crater on the ground. The reptilian Elder clambers onto an empty candy booth and runs, hopping from empty booth to empty booth as Da Yog charges forward and crushes things underfoot. Wyvern grabs an elastic pilgrim belt decoration hanging from a wall and snags a broken piece of wood up with his tail stinger, biting his lip as he frantically assembles a makeshift slingshot. He loads the sugar club chunk onto the pilgrim belt with a trembling claw, cocking it back and aiming it in the direction of Da Yog's mouth...

 

"At least tassste it!"

[Da_Yog]

*perspective shift*

 

Something strange happened as the confection-club smacked the rather large and cumbersome example of trollness squarely in the forehead. He had a thought, mind you, not the typical base instinct response he was so fervently accustomed to, but a real, genuine, cognitive thought. It occurred to him as the club that smacked him so precisely in the forehead shattered into small crystalline pieces, that the clubs, were in fact, not real clubs at all. He lifted da club to his noggin' and scratched it with the marvelously menacing mithril spike. No something still wasn't quite right here. He'd have to think on that a bit later. Think about it like only an Olog could. But there was another matter to attend to just now.

 

His left eye narrowed to a slit, his nostrils flared, his lips curled into a twisted snarl, and he knew what he had to do. Two whole thoughts in one day. This was indeed a first! He glanced about, and spying one of the clubs among the scattered debris lumbered over to it. Once there he raised his club and stuck down a sound blow upon the confection-club. It shattered. It shattered into a thousand tiny crystalline candy-fragments. No, he cleverly reasoned to himself, this was not a club.

 

After scratching his noggin' wit da club for a moment or two longer, (Mind you, this was a troll moment, not a human one, but a short troll moment, so it only lasted ten minutes or so.) he arched his back and bellowed to the sky, "Wyvernsssss, why you make deese funny clubssss dat not really clubs?"

 

On cue the strangely overgrown lizard appeared from behind a rather large rock, (you human-types would call it a boulder) brushed off some dirt, bits of broken candy, and some wood splinters, and cautiously approached the overgrown troll.

 

"Well you ssssee Yog," said Wyvern, "Those aren't really clubs at all. They are candy. They just look like clubs."

 

With that the strangely oversized lizard fished around for a club that had survived the onslaught mostly unscathed, brushed it off best he could, and offered it up to da troll.

 

Yog's nose, shifted to the right on his head and his right eye closed. Slowly he reached out with his right hand to take the candy-club.

 

Wyvern, for his part, took a few very calculated steps back.

 

Yog's nostrils flared as he brought the candy near his mouth. "Smells like candy." His large, wet, scaly tongue snaked out to the candy and slowly licked it's surface. "Tastes like candy."

 

Suddenly the light went on. By George, it was candy. It wasn't really a club at all.

 

"Hey Wyverns, dis is candy!"

 

Wyverns eyes rolled reflexively in his skull. "Yes Yog, they are candy-clubs."

 

"Hey Wyverns, deese are great! You knows what yous should do?"

 

Wyvern's left eyebrow raised quizzically. "What'ssss that Yog?"

 

"Yous should open a stand and sell deese to people or sumtin."

 

With that the big ole stupid troll wandered off, leaving Wyvern to the mess, that is inevitably left in the troll's wake.

[Da_Yog]

*Oops I forgot*

 

"Mmmmmmm, con...confec...candy-clubs good."

[Wyvern]

Wyvern drops his makeshift slingshot and wipes the sweat from his scaly brow, breathing a long sigh of relief as Da Yog departs a happy troll. The overgrown lizard shifts a few broken boards to the side with his tail stinger, then rubs his claws together and frowns at the barren wasteland that's become of his confection convention. Smashed bases, broken signs, and club impact craters dot the Conservatory floor like an Almost Dragonic Brand Discount Skating Rink™. Wyvern wanders through the mess while trying to calculate the extent of the damages in his head, coming to a pause and losing track of the number when he spots the scattered remains of his Yog-Worthy Troll Sugar Clubs. The reptilian snorts and picks up one of the frail pieces of sugar, turning it in his claw and scratching his chin as he examines its texture.

 

"Hrrrmmmm..."

 

Wyvern taps on the surface of the jagged sugar, pausing as he notices the dents that the taps make in the frail texture of the fragment. The overgrown lizard carefully sets the sugar fragment on the head of a broken Frankenstein pilgrim ornament, then pulls up three broken boards of wood and balances them until they ressemble a temporary candy stand. The reptilian Elder licks his lips and sets about gathering the broken sugar fragments from off of the floor. He aligns them on the table and etches the word "Ego" into each one of them with the tip of a claw, then grins and raises a claw to his snout.

 

"Right thissss way! Getchyer tasty Tzim-inspired Crush-able Egos right here. Crush'em with yer hand, give'em the sledgehammer treatment, chip away at them in bits and pieces, swallow'em whole. Jussst remember our catchy candy slogan: 'There's more than way to eat an Ego!'"

 

Wyvern pauses and frowns as he suddenly notices a glaring discrepancy in his new candy. He curses to himself and searches left and right for a tin of coacoa, a can of fudge, a ladel of AoA syrup, anything chocolate that he might drench the bite-sized Egos in. He bites his lip when he comes up short, frantically turning over collapsed carts in the hopes of finding some chocolate ingredient before any Egos get hurt...