FF: Enter the Halfling: Recovering the Ancient Daggers

Enter the Halfling - Episode 2

Recovering the Ancient Daggers

by Orogurath

Pigface sniffed the stifling air and grunted.  Death was all around him,...

Enter the Halfling - Episode 2

Recovering the Ancient Daggers

by Orogurath

Pigface sniffed the stifling air
and grunted.  Death was all around him, embedded in stone. 
The rotting bones of long retired citizens and nobles left a dry,
stagnant smell that caused him to wrinkle his mangled features.  

“Da piggygotsumpin yah yah?”

“Oooo…yah yah.”

Several satisfied looks were exchanged.  Pigface was never wrong,
and he grinned, revealing his sharpened yellow teeth.  This place
was laden with riches, and his knobby, twisted fingers pointed at the
grim sarcophagi lining the walls.  

Cailag nodded, and the four companions gleefully began twirling their
mauls in savage airborne patterns, exploding the sacred tombs and
sending debris everywhere. One after another they desecrated the
resting places of upstanding citizens, pocketing gems and coin until a
shriek came from Gurblebag.

“Dibbydok! Gul bat!” (Son of a bitch--this one's not dead!)

The curious four watched as a disembodied skull gnawed on Gurblebag's
backpack. The stubby little thug twirled around, desperately trying to
reach behind him and dislodge the offending cranium, with no success.
Cailag and Pigface rolled with laughter at their disturbed companion,
while Preston stepped forward and pinned Gurblebag against the wall.

“Ibbytuk ki keel wanna wanna!”  (Stand still you dumbass, I'll get

“Yah yah yougetum, Preston!”  The panicked, chubby arms ceased to
flail and Gurblebag stood stock still, back to his rescuer. 
Preston helpfully gauged the threat level, hoisted his larger than
necessary maul, and swung.

Gurblebag was suddenly aware that he was no longer in the crypt, but
staring at the wall of the Waveside Tavern, with a Priest of the Silver
Flame hovering over him.  

He brushed bits of skull and stone from his backpack, snarled at
bystanders, and ordered a greasy chicken leg…to go. Preston was going
to pay for that shot!

Back in the crypt, the remaining three howled with laughter at the
stain that represented Gurblebag's ill-fate, then moved on to new
excitement. It quickly occurred to all of them that the fastest
Halfling would end up with the most loot, and a race began while they
crushed every standing object within the catacomb.  

They finally came to a series of wooden doors, which curiously reached
neither the ceiling nor the floor, leaving just enough room to glance
through the cracks.

They piled up piggy back style, and Pigface pulled his yellow eyes to
the level of the door crack.  

“Pada ungh tobato.”  (There's some guy standing there.)

“Dibber fillit buttabetta? (What's he doing in there?)

“Munch munch”  (Eating.)

Pigface twisted around, trying to squeeze further in the crack, when
the door fell inward on its rusted hinges, spilling Halfling
eavesdroppers into the small room.  The “guy” turned around and
stumbled awkwardly toward Cailag, who extended a greeting.

“Meda Cailag…watcha munch munch kibble?”  (I'm Cailag; can we
share your food?)

“Unhhhhhhhg”  (Unhhhhhhg)

The three exchanged confused glances, and decided to attempt its native

Cailag:  “Unhhhg?  We want goodies uhnnnng.”  (We're
hungry and heard you eating.)

Pigface:  “UhRRRuhnng”  (Why are you all green and stinky?)

Zombie:  “Uhnnng. Unhhhhhhhg!”  (Brains!)

Preston:  “Shit.”

Moments later, three more Halflings appeared instantaneously in the
Waveside Tavern, faces twisted in mid-scream and sporting several new
teeth-mark scars on their heads.  

While they recovered themselves, a raging Gurblebag re-entered the tomb.

Needless to say, the skeletal guardsman in the main chamber was less
than impressed at the ruddy little thug approaching. It was times like
this he really wished he had eyes to roll in disgust.  Undaunted,
he put down his copy of Cryptwarden Quarterly and apparated through the
stone to confront the interloper.


Before he had finished his opening curses, the savage little monkey had
already knocked out his bony legs and was swinging a large mallet right
at his head.

“Bloody h-!”

With a crack, the magic within the tomb warped and dissipated as the
Guardsman's skull shattered.  Gurblebag opened the glowing chest
and snatched the Ancient Daggers.  After brief encounters with
minor skeletons, he found his way out of the crypt and back to Lord

“Good heavens, you made it!” Goodblade was ecstatic. “Where are your
companions? I believe I saw four of you.”  

Gurblebag wasn't quite sure what was being said, but pointed to the
daggers and then to himself.

“Rok oochu mik shiny.”  (Whatever. Give me loot or I break your

Lord Goodblade furrowed his brow, then, anticipating the squat savage's
intentions, handed over an average suit of scalemail.  

Satisfied, Gurblebag padded off to the Waveside, only to be confronted
by the disgruntled-looking faces of his companions. Cut, scarred,
broken, acid burned, and gnawed on, they were nursing bandaged limbs
and sucking thumbs as the Silver Flame priests worked madly to restore

“Toku kupa karma karma!” he laughed, and showed off his shiny new
armor.  (Karma's a bitch, isn't it?)

Preston rolled his eyes and gnawed on his lip. Perhaps it would have
been more effective to pull the skull off Gurblebag's backpack before
swinging his maul. When the priests were finally through, the four
Halflings settled their grievances over a pint and some chicken,
quickly falling back into the warmth of kinship and mirth. Satisfied
that all was well in order, the four set out to meet their next
contact, Guard Heoregar.

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About The Author

Karen is H.D.i.C. (Head Druid in Charge) at EQHammer. She likes chocolate chip pancakes, warm hugs, gaming so late that it's early, and rooting things and covering them with bees. Don't read her Ten Ton Hammer column every Tuesday. Or the EQHammer one every Thursday, either.

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