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Something Strange....

 
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Halfling Heaven
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Joined: 12 Aug 2004
Posts: 4576

PostPosted: Wed Sep 03, 2008 12:53 pm    Post subject: Something Strange.... Reply with quote

Two of the cities biggest gossips, both in quantity of gossip and also their over-generously proportioned figures, are seated in the Groo & Shrew Tavern in the Olde South End. They meet here on most days to exchange the daily goings on in other peoples lives, which incidentally never have anything to actually do with the gossips themselves.... but such is the nature of gossip.

Irene - That Lino from the Feisty Chicken lost his babies the other day. Stolen away by pixies, they were.
Patsy - Pixies? I heard they were Lepracauns.
Irene - Lepracauns ARE pixies. They just wear green.
Patsy - Is that so?
Irene - Oh yes. But frankly, I do not know why his wife puts up with him. I mean, his business is a shambles. He can't even get people to stop for more than one drink without some halfling wandering in and screaming for help.
Patsy - Oh, i know what you mean Irene. I am starting to think it might be something to do with fate disliking him.
Irene - Well Pats, lets face it... There is not all that much to like about him. I heard he waters down his ale.
Patsy - Shocking!
Irene - I know!!
Patsy - I can tell you something else that is shocking.
Irene - Oh, do tell, Pats. Do tell!
Patsy - Did you hear about that farmer who was arrested?
Irene - A farmer? No!
Patsy - That Moe Barleyfield.
Irene - The one with the unibrow and the funny walk?
Patsy - Thats him!
Irene - I always thought he looked like a shifty one. What did he do?
Patsy - All I can say is.... it was something strange!
Irene - Strange? You have my interests all on edge. Tell me what you heard.
Patsy - Well....

*the two women lean in closer and start speaking in a whisper*

Patsy - It was the night before last. Farmer Barleyfield was out in his barn milking his goat...
Irene - Oh.. that goat. It gives me evil glares when I wak past... but do continue.
Patsy - ...anyway, it just happened that a passing guard saw light coming from the barn and decided to check it was not intruders. You know, doing the neighbourly thing.
Irene - Oh yes. Perfectly reasonable. There is nothing wrong with that.
Patsy - As the guard opened the barn door, Farmer Barleyfield was startled..... and this is where the story goes a little strange.
Irene - What happened Pats?
Patsy - The guard was thrown through the barn wall. Taken clean off his feet and thrown right through the wooden wall.
Irene - Oh, I always suspected that Farmer had a thuggish streak in him. No wonder his wife left.
Patsy - No, his wife ran off with that Tharbadian Sock Merchant.
Irene - Really? I didn't know that. But its hardly surprising if her husband was capable of throwing a law enforcer through a wall.
Patsy - Thats the thing though....
Irene - What is?
Patsy - The guard says Farmer Barleyfield didn't touch him. He says that the farmer merely looked at him, apparantly startled, and that was it.... the Guard was thrown through the wall.
Irene - Oh, the poor guard is probably suffering from head trauma.
Patsy - Probably so.

*the two women sit in silence for a moment, slowly musing over the tale*

Irene - It does make you wonder though.
Patsy - Wonder what?
Irene - How a one armed farmer can throw a fully armoured Guard through a wall.
Patsy - Farmer Barleyfield only has one arm?
Irene - Yes. Ever since that 'sheep stampede' three months ago.
Patsy - Oh! Yes, I remember now. He was trampled in a locked room, but when he was found there were no sheep anywhere and he claimed they just 'appered' and then 'disappeared'.
Irene - Thats it.
Patsy - No wonder his wife left him.
Irene - Yes, I never did like him.
Patsy - Almost as bad as that Lino.
Irene - Oh yes. That Lino..... I will tell you what Linos wife needs.
Patsy - What is that Irene?
Irene - A Tharbadian Sock Merchant.
Patsy - Oh, so true Irene. So true.
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Halfling Heaven
World Designer/DM/Player
World Designer/DM/Player


Joined: 12 Aug 2004
Posts: 4576

PostPosted: Thu Sep 04, 2008 3:11 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

In Farwest Citys cake store, the fantastic baker known only as Mrs Sweeting was bustling busily in her kitchen. She had an order to cater for a childrens birthday party, and the nobleman who made the order was offering to pay handsomely.

As Mrs Sweeting worked to create her trademark masterpieces, she knew that this could be one of her most prestigious customers to date. Nothing could go wrong...

However, as she thought those fated words 'nothing could go wrong', something in fact did go wrong. Her hand brushed past a glass bowl in which she whisked her meringue, and the bowl wobbled slightly. The wobble grew to a teeter, and the teeter progressed to a topple. Before she could say "Whoops", the bowl fell from her counter and promptly shattered into a thousand sharp fragments upon the stone floor.

Mrs Sweeting looked at the glass which covered the floor, and then her gaze drifted to the far side of the room where the dustpan and broom stood against the wall. Finally, her eyes wandered to her own feet. Why had she not worn shoes today?

Mrs Sweeting pondered her predicament slowly. She could not get to the broom without stepping on the glass, but she could not sweep the glass away without getting to the broom. If only she had the foresight to put the broom within arms reach....

No sooner as she had thought this, she felt something in her hand. Startled, she looked to discover she was holding the broom. To clarify she was slowly going insane, she looked at the wall where the broom had been standing only a few seconds earlier. Somewhat surprisingly, the broom was not where it had been, confirming that the broom in her hand was indeed the same one she had viewed only a moment ago.

Shaking her head to clear the confusion, Mrs Sweeting set about sweeping up the glass and put the broom back where it usually stood. The bizarre incident was forcibly pushed to the back of her mind as she refocused upon her important childrens party and the meringue she was supposed to make.


"Oh Fudge and Raspberries!!" she exclaimed in protest, "Those were my last eggs. Where can I get one more egg at this late hour?"

Immediately, she wished she had not asked that question.... for through the open window flew... no, 'floated'... a chicken with a stunned expression. The chicken made no noise as it levitated toward Mrs Sweeting at face height and promptly exploded. A single egg dropped from where the chicken had been onto the bakers hand.

As small pieces of chicken dropped from Mrs Sweetings face, she let out a small whimper.

She looked at the egg in her palm, and the whimper became a chuckle.

Her eyes caught sight of her reflection in a pan, complete with white chicken feathers in her hair, and her chuckle was replaced by an insane cackle of disbelief.

The following day, the baker shop did not open. Instead, a simple sign graced the window.


Closed until further notice, due to illness.
_________________
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Time flys like an arrow. Fruit flies like a banana.
-----------------------------------------
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Halfling Heaven
World Designer/DM/Player
World Designer/DM/Player


Joined: 12 Aug 2004
Posts: 4576

PostPosted: Sat Sep 06, 2008 8:45 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

In a small rural cottage lived a small family. The Richards family consisted of David, his wife Victoria, their two year old son Eric, the ginger tabby cat named Furball and they were also expecting a new arrival in a couple of months.
Their home was immaculately clean and tidy, and rightly so as David had recently been offered an accountancy job in the City and so the family were in the process of selling their home with the aim of relocating closer to the new career.

There was a knock at the door. The potential new buyers of the property had arrived.

David opened the door and greeted the portly red-faced man and his stick-thin female companion who surely must be his daughter!


"Come in, please." , beckoned Mr Richards.

The Portly gentleman seemed unwilling to partake in simple pelasantries and proceeded to inspect every nook and surface in each room systematically. His female companion giggled and chattered incessantly with the Richards', revealing that she was in fact soon to be married to the portly man and that she was quite obviously not 'the brightest light in the sky'.

While the others chattered, the portly gentleman mounted the stairs (testing the security of bannister as he went) and peered into the first room.
It was a nursery, complete with teddy bears, soft tiny chairs and a childs pen. Secure inside the pen was a little boy wearing a shirt which clearly said 'ERIC' across the front. The boy was looking up at a spinning mobile above the pen.
The portly gentleman frowned. He despised children because they made too much noise and smelled badly, in his opinion. But, like the boy, he found himself staring at the mobile as its wooden toy horses and goblins span and danced in the air.
"Curious." thought the man, as he stepped forward to view the mobile more closely. It appeared the mobile was not fixed to the cieling by anything.... and furthermore, it had no strings of any kind. These wooden shapes were simply dancing in the air unassisted.
Portly man looked at the pen. In an instant the small boy was surrounded by every horror imaginable, as demons, goblins and kobolds appeared from the ether and pulled faces.
The mans jaw dropped, and a moment later he found himself fleeing down the stairs, grabbing his 'soon-to-be' wife by the wrist and dragging her from the house with a simple garbled excuse...

"We have to leave. Your house is lovely but I just remembered I have.... a headache ... at four... Goodbye!"
And with that, the door slammed shut.

"Thats the third one this week, and they always seem to find something wrong upstairs." mused Victoria
"Its that wallpaper you chose for the bedroom, I think." her husband answered.
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Time flys like an arrow. Fruit flies like a banana.
-----------------------------------------
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