(The young man playing the character of the druid turned 11 years old
on Sunday last, and for one of his birthday presents, the DM played out
an encounter written just for him. However, the DM will not take
credit for the scenario below...all kudos go to Simon!)
Thirty-some years ago...
Strolling
casually down The Processional one fine morning in the fair city of
Greyhawk, Lance Dallas, a young elven druid, enjoys the mid-morning
sunshine and gentle breeze coming off the river. He enjoys much less,
however, the grimy neglect of the city itself; not to mention the
ever-present murmur of people all around him. He's looking for nothing
in particular when he Spots a young, well-dressed woman looking about
her frantically, as if she appears to be searching for something...
or someone.
Shortly
after he sees her, she spots him and practically sprints over, an
enormous smile of relief on her face. "Thank gods I've found you," she
cries desperately. "You've got to come with me, I really need your
help," she pleads. And while Lance is obviously uncomfortable with the
young woman pulling on his arm, he can hardly resist her pleas for
help. With a weak, "Uh...okay?", he allows himself to be herded to a
large building, where a banner that reads "Greyhawk Canine Society -
Competition TODAY!" hangs above the entrance.
However,
that's not the only thing to catch Lance's attention. The entrance is
blocked by a multitude of shaggily-dressed protesters who are carrying
placards that say "Four Legs Good" and "Canine Power" and "Down with Dog
Exploiters". As they get closer, Lance's decent Spot check allows him
to see that a significant number of the protesters are
half-gnolls...grotesque, hyena-looking humanoids. They shout taunts as
the young woman rushes Lance inside, where complete chaos greets the
druid. People are rushing to and fro, and the sound of barking dogs and
frazzled owners overwhelm Lance immediately.
The
druid quickly realizes he has been plucked off the street to act as the
judge for this disorganized pell-mell circus of a competition. And
why? Did his fine Elven features give him away? His stained natural
hide armor? His crude, natural weapons? His forest-green garb? Any and
all of those, probably, he mused. That day would come (not soon
enough, in Lance's honest opinion) when he'd get his Large animal
companion (he wanted a lion so desperately), and there'd be NO doubt in
people's mind that he was indeed a druid.
At any rate, the
young woman steers Lance to an empty chair at a table, where a mug of
ale and a sandwich await. Soon after, a pompous-looking slick
approaches to shake his hand vigorously.
"Donnywood.
Frank Donnywood. Show coordinator! So so so glad to have you here. We
were in a bit of a spot, what with our last judge...but, ah well, never
mind that..." the man says. Lance discerns a little suspicion and
unease in the man's voice, but decides against saying anything, much
less asking about that last judge.
"Your job is quite
simple. Our six contestants will enter the arena here with their
canine, you will examine it, and assign it a score. The highest score
wins, of course." Here, Frank Donnywood's grin gets a little too big
and false-looking. "This is all a very good-natured, civilized event,
you see, and therefore, it's important we demonstrate goodwill and
compassionate towards our contestants. So, no killing, maiming,
jinxing, etc. of the participants!" And with that, he rushes off,
clapping his hands together and shouting, "Ten minutes to showtime,
people!"
Lance remains at the table, a little agape and
taken aback at this sudden turn of the morning's events. Three people
then accost him at his judge's seat in very rapid succession:
1.
A pigtailed, wide-eyed little girl named Melissa shyly tells Lance that
her mother is very ill and that she hopes to win the competition with
her puppy "Colin" because then, she can buy medicine and heal her mom.
Lance smiles uneasily upon the child, who really is just too saccharin
to be true, especially after she places a brownie on the table next to
his mug of ale, and simpers at Lance before edging away.
2.
A well-dressed, extremely self-satisfied man approach the table and
introduces himself as Lord Andrew Utgart. He informs Lance that judging
this contest should be very very easy since his dog, Pippin Marmalade
Hogswaggle the Ninth won last year, and therefore, is the prime standout
to take the crown home again this year. A few comments about
upstanding bloodlines later, he drops a small leather pouch onto the
table, and Lance does a well enough Listen check to know he's hearing
the sound of coin hit the table.
3. Shortly after, a
pleasant-looking, but dumpily dressed older woman rushes up, glaring in
the direction of Lord Andrew. She hisses that Lord Andrew is a
scoundrel, a snob, and an all-around "very terrible" man. Then, she
brightens up and introduces herself as Ducky D'Wynter. And although she
says she's distant nobility, even Lance takes in her shabby appearance
with a skeptical eye. At any rate, she's not so much about winning as
she's about keeping Lord Andrew from doing so. She also drops a little
jingly next to Lord Andrew's leather pouch.
Lance may not be the tallest fir in the forest, but even he knows exactly what's going on here. Bribery!
When
the contestants enter, Lance asks them to "Walk", "Shake" and
"Speak"...meanwhile rolling a d20 + 8 (Knowledge: Nature) for their
"score". And honest to gods, the following judging highlights presented
below are taken word for word from the 16-year-old paladin scribe's
notes.
1. Wuffles, Lord Vertunarare...?
2. Weirdo teenager McBaggins with stupid kobold dog
3. Weirdo homeless wizard dude with weirdo zombie dog...Dr. Dreadlocks
4. Lord Andrew McDufus with Pip Pip (who appears to be suffering from a broken leg that is being covered up by a painkiller)
5. Ducky the Wucky with her cute puppy, Pokey Pee, suxs at commands, pees on Lance and sniffs his crotch.
6.
Melissa (scribe added words 'drug dealer' in parenthesis here) and
"Colin", who has red eyes, flames out of mouth (WTF like dragon!), is
actually Hellhound (Lance's Knowledge: Arcana), SCARY
It's
the roll of the dice and addition of the scores that finally render The
Weirdo Zombie Dog the winner. Things seem like they're about to get
crazy, what with an overemotional, near-suicidal Lord Andrew and
vindictive Hellhound on the loose...when the front doors of the hall
burst open and the half-gnoll protesters enter the arena, hoisting their
placards high into the sky and demanding the contest be shut down
IMMEDIATELY.
Lance, however, could not give two flips
about this new, potentially dangerous development. He's Searching out
the crowd for the little pig-tailed girl, Melissa. He seems bent on
learning more about her. Of course, in the throng of teeming people, he
doesn't roll high enough to see her, although he spots the Hellhound
cornering a protester off to one side. He runs outside, perhaps with
the idea that he'll see her leaving the premises, but that proves
fruitless as well. He's about to head down the street and return to his
lodgings when he bumps into Tilly, who sports a black eye and cut
across one cheek. Lance is rather surprised to see her smiling madly,
as if she's just had the time of her life. She tells Lance he did a
marvelous job and that the event itself went relatively well, all things
considered. She gives him a quick peck on the cheek (the scribe
includes the sidenote of "LOL") and shoves a nice, hefty leather pouch
into his hand...payment, she says, for his services today.
Upon inspecting his goods, Lance finds the following:
1. In the pouch from Lord Andrew is 80 copper coins that had been painted gold
2.
Ducky D'Wynter's pouch contains 3 gold pieces, 60 silver pieces, and
one pretty blue-green gem that appears to be a basic piece of seaglass.
3. 25 gold pieces are the contents of the third pouch, the one from Tilly.
Lance
inspects the brownie and detects some malevolence about it...but
whether it's a poison of some sort or just a burnt bottom, he is unable
to tell. The scribe, however, takes some creative liberties with the
baked good and proclaims it to be a "pot brownie mixed with ashes of the
little girl's ancestors".
And that is perhaps why Lance has not set foot back in the Free City of Greyhawk in many, many years.
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