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Cleric Journal: Day Fifty-Six

DearFatherMulcahy

 

Let it be known that my intuition was right and true. The wizard coming was Tim. Tim the wizard who’s life we had saved. Tim of the amazing fuzzy pink hat and the ability to identify magic items. That Tim. He’s an evil wizard. How did I not notice that? I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt as the sun rose that Tim was a rat bastard of the most vile sort. Frankly it hurt my feelings.

Anyway, I get ahead of the story.

Most of the kobolds were bedding down as the sun rose. The main thugs, the big boss and his lieutenants were wide awake and waiting gleefully for Tim to show up. Greasy ratlings.

I had it all figured out. Tim knew who I was, you see. He has a contact within the monastery. He’d been scrying, recognized my robes and the mace I carried and knew some things about you, Father Mulcahy.   I think the magic had cracked his brain, frankly. He would claim that you lead an order of renegade priests who had stolen artifacts from the heart of a collapsing city and that you had lead the order further and further away from the first temple, building anew on the edge of the spreading swamp. He would talk a lot, bragging from a position of strength, which would not only fill in the missing pieces but tip his hand. Of course, he would only talked when he got tired of cutting strips of skin off the bottom of my feet.

That is a pain I cannot even begin to contemplate. Too horrific. But Tim will know about the city in my dreams and how it had once been the ruling city for this entire continent, ruled by a mighty warrior priest who had a staff called Ice Shard. One day, three centuries or more ago someone killed this priest warrior, stole the staff and several other ancient artifacts and fled, but not before unleashing a cataclysm on the city.

Or something like that. That’s how it went with stories, right?

I just wish Tim would hurry up and get there, I was tired of waiting. I think the kobolds were tired as well. When they saw that I was watching them, one of the kobold lieutenants grumbled something and trudged back to stand near me, a short spear held across his chest, ready to skewer me if I tried anything funny.

I growled at the pisher and he took a step back. That made me smile which caused to try and step back toward me, but he shuffled his feet, stared at his hands and then swore. But he didn’t get close enough for me to bite him or anything. Smarter of the brood, I would say.

Another thing about kobolds is they’re cowards. They had me sorely outnumbered and I was tied up. They were afraid of me, but they were more afraid of Tim. And by the mumbling my new guard was doing, they were afraid of my friends showing up. They were afraid of Liz.

“I wonder if Tim will kill all of you to avoid the hassle,” I mused out loud.

My guard shot me a look but didn’t say anything. He did level the spear more or less in my general direction. I was bored, screwing with them helped pass the time.

Eventually I grew tired of taunting the chap and returned to staring after the kobolds whose attention were focused on the road coming into their camp from the north . The moment my eyes were almost glazed over enough to blur out the individual kobold butts, I heard a thud. It wasn’t seriously distracting so I glanced around once and then started to focus on the coming of Tim once more when I felt someone sawing at the ropes that held me to the pole.

A series of thoughts flashed through my mind:

There had been a guard next to the pole

The pole was in the middle of the camp

The camp had around thirty kobolds with slings and daggers

And Liz was across the clearing from me, winking and holding a finger up to her mouth.

Just who the heck was cutting me loose.

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What I'm Reading

 

D&D 5E Player’s Handbook

 

Recent Comments

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The wild ox; strength and power.

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Othala

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Sowilo

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Personally earned or lucky wealth and prosperity.

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Note: This is not the real book cover.