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[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | "GREETINGS FELLOW ADVENTURING HUMANS!" Boomed the voice of Danny the Elf sat bolt upright from the sleeping cloth sack she had been in, causing Bob the Barbarian to grunt and curl up under his animal hide sleeping rug again.
"IT IS I, YOUR GOOD FRIEND DAN, I AM UNHARMED AFTER MY ENCOUNTER WITH THE DAEMON!" She continued smiling oddly, her mouth breaking into a wide grin with teeth and her eyebrows actually elevating.
"Dann...." Feldspar the half-elf warlock managed to stop himself from saying Danny, "You told us this before, remember?"
Danny the Elf blinked, everything was always so terribly confusing, having come from a dimension that didn't have time it had to learn about things happening and things that had happened, Makor the Cleric had helped with that, teaching the snow elf about how things happen and can't be changed but things that haven't happened yet can be altered.
"OH YES FRIEND!" Danny laughed as if it was a running joke, Sim the halfling thief/bard laughed a little as well in sympathy or perhaps enjoyment.
"WHERE ARE WE GOING TODAY? WILL THERE BE MORE EXCELLENT FERMENTED YEAST PRODUCTS TO CONSUME?"
Makor nodded slowly, "That's right Dan, more beer at the end of the adventure, now how did we get back the entrance avoiding the dragon, getting the treasure and nobody getting hurt?"
"OF COURSE FRIEND! THIS IS A THING THAT HAPPENED ALREADY AFTER ALL!" Danny confirmed with the group as each of them nodded in agreement pressing in to listen carefully to Danny.
"FIRSTLY, WE LEFT THE ROOM BY THE SOUTH ENTRANCE, SIM DISABLED THE PIT TRAP AFTER FALLING INTO IT AND DYING THE FIRST TIME HE TRIED." Danny started to explain.
Sim frowned a little looking towards the South entrance, he'd died; again, if 'Dan' hadn't told him about the pit trap or the acid or the undercooked chicken or ... he was incredibly glad that 'Dan' had changed so dramatically since that encounter with the demon.
"THE TREASURE IS MOSTLY CURSED AND FELDSPAR CHANGED INTO A SHEEP WHEN HE PICKED UP A STAFF THEN A STATUE AS HE TOUCHED THE CURSED DIAMOND AS LARGE AS HIS FIST AND THEN WAS KILLED AS HE PICKED UP A CROWN." Danny continued as Feldspar took careful notes, the warlock couldn't remember the last time he'd bothered to cast identification or detect item status.
Feldspar liked whatever was living inside Danny, even when the party wasn't using it as a cheap way to complete adventures the Elf was nicer, kinder and fun to listen to, with her soft voice always shouting it was hard not to giggle at her.
"THEN AS WE LEAVE THE REAL MAKOR ATTACKS THE FAKE ONE CURRENTLY TRAVELLING WITH US AND IS EASILY DEFEATED." Danny concluded smiling proudly.
Makor looked around the group as for a moment he was sure that his plan had been ruined, they must know, it was just said aloud.
Sim however was fiddling with his lock picks, clearly fully distracted, Feldspar was already in a meditative trance memorising spells.
Bob smiled widely at Makor and Danny before speaking in his native tongue, "What did she say then? Sounded like bad news for you, Feldspar and Sim..."
Makor nodded with a rush of relief as Bob wondered how many more times he could possibly pass that particular lie your face off check. | Glanno sat down at the back of the tavern, their usual haunt. He pushed on the edge of the table, testing it. It didn't wobble. He smiled, then eyed his two companions, nodding.
"This is a good day, isn't it, uh...*hic*...Elgar?"
"Indeed. Another dragon slain, another town saved from the flames. He was a crafty one, but we proved more clever in the end." Elgar took a deep drink, setting it gingerly onto the fine mahogany surface.
The other adventurer, a tall, blonde woman, leaned back in her chair, eyeing the liquid in Elgar's drink, which was undulating strangely. "Mead?" she asked.
He nodded. "It's a nice change, I think. You should try some, Esmerelda.
She glanced at Glanno before replying. "No, not after what happened last time. Or have you forgotten?"
The elf simply laughed.
Glanno cleared his throat, eyes darting between his companions. "Well, in any case, it's nice to be clear of all those shapeshifters, eh, Es?"
She winked at him, leaning back stretching out her legs to rest them on the top of the table. "That it is, Glanno." Her boots quivered slightly, as if she had a sudden chill, but her companions said nothing.
Elgar raised his eyebrows at them, then leaned in close. "Are we really certain we've left them all behind? After all...well, any one of us could be..."
"Come now, Elgar," Glanno said, massaging one of his massive biceps while fingering the pommel of his sword, "We can't live in fear of one another, can we?"
"Perhaps not," the elf replied, "I suppose we'll have to live with the possibility, guarding our words carefully for--oh months, I suppose." He reached for his drink, then hesitated, choosing instead to run a hand along the smooth wooden surface, "On second thought, shapeshifters are known to be quite patient. Perhaps we should wait a year or two before we discuss any truly important secrets?"
His companions nodded in agreement.
The table snickered. | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | "GREETINGS FELLOW ADVENTURING HUMANS!" Boomed the voice of Danny the Elf sat bolt upright from the sleeping cloth sack she had been in, causing Bob the Barbarian to grunt and curl up under his animal hide sleeping rug again.
"IT IS I, YOUR GOOD FRIEND DAN, I AM UNHARMED AFTER MY ENCOUNTER WITH THE DAEMON!" She continued smiling oddly, her mouth breaking into a wide grin with teeth and her eyebrows actually elevating.
"Dann...." Feldspar the half-elf warlock managed to stop himself from saying Danny, "You told us this before, remember?"
Danny the Elf blinked, everything was always so terribly confusing, having come from a dimension that didn't have time it had to learn about things happening and things that had happened, Makor the Cleric had helped with that, teaching the snow elf about how things happen and can't be changed but things that haven't happened yet can be altered.
"OH YES FRIEND!" Danny laughed as if it was a running joke, Sim the halfling thief/bard laughed a little as well in sympathy or perhaps enjoyment.
"WHERE ARE WE GOING TODAY? WILL THERE BE MORE EXCELLENT FERMENTED YEAST PRODUCTS TO CONSUME?"
Makor nodded slowly, "That's right Dan, more beer at the end of the adventure, now how did we get back the entrance avoiding the dragon, getting the treasure and nobody getting hurt?"
"OF COURSE FRIEND! THIS IS A THING THAT HAPPENED ALREADY AFTER ALL!" Danny confirmed with the group as each of them nodded in agreement pressing in to listen carefully to Danny.
"FIRSTLY, WE LEFT THE ROOM BY THE SOUTH ENTRANCE, SIM DISABLED THE PIT TRAP AFTER FALLING INTO IT AND DYING THE FIRST TIME HE TRIED." Danny started to explain.
Sim frowned a little looking towards the South entrance, he'd died; again, if 'Dan' hadn't told him about the pit trap or the acid or the undercooked chicken or ... he was incredibly glad that 'Dan' had changed so dramatically since that encounter with the demon.
"THE TREASURE IS MOSTLY CURSED AND FELDSPAR CHANGED INTO A SHEEP WHEN HE PICKED UP A STAFF THEN A STATUE AS HE TOUCHED THE CURSED DIAMOND AS LARGE AS HIS FIST AND THEN WAS KILLED AS HE PICKED UP A CROWN." Danny continued as Feldspar took careful notes, the warlock couldn't remember the last time he'd bothered to cast identification or detect item status.
Feldspar liked whatever was living inside Danny, even when the party wasn't using it as a cheap way to complete adventures the Elf was nicer, kinder and fun to listen to, with her soft voice always shouting it was hard not to giggle at her.
"THEN AS WE LEAVE THE REAL MAKOR ATTACKS THE FAKE ONE CURRENTLY TRAVELLING WITH US AND IS EASILY DEFEATED." Danny concluded smiling proudly.
Makor looked around the group as for a moment he was sure that his plan had been ruined, they must know, it was just said aloud.
Sim however was fiddling with his lock picks, clearly fully distracted, Feldspar was already in a meditative trance memorising spells.
Bob smiled widely at Makor and Danny before speaking in his native tongue, "What did she say then? Sounded like bad news for you, Feldspar and Sim..."
Makor nodded with a rush of relief as Bob wondered how many more times he could possibly pass that particular lie your face off check. | Glanno sat down at the back of the tavern, their usual haunt. He pushed on the edge of the table, testing it. It didn't wobble. He smiled, then eyed his two companions, nodding.
"This is a good day, isn't it, uh...*hic*...Elgar?"
"Indeed. Another dragon slain, another town saved from the flames. He was a crafty one, but we proved more clever in the end." Elgar took a deep drink, setting it gingerly onto the fine mahogany surface.
The other adventurer, a tall, blonde woman, leaned back in her chair, eyeing the liquid in Elgar's drink, which was undulating strangely. "Mead?" she asked.
He nodded. "It's a nice change, I think. You should try some, Esmerelda.
She glanced at Glanno before replying. "No, not after what happened last time. Or have you forgotten?"
The elf simply laughed.
Glanno cleared his throat, eyes darting between his companions. "Well, in any case, it's nice to be clear of all those shapeshifters, eh, Es?"
She winked at him, leaning back stretching out her legs to rest them on the top of the table. "That it is, Glanno." Her boots quivered slightly, as if she had a sudden chill, but her companions said nothing.
Elgar raised his eyebrows at them, then leaned in close. "Are we really certain we've left them all behind? After all...well, any one of us could be..."
"Come now, Elgar," Glanno said, massaging one of his massive biceps while fingering the pommel of his sword, "We can't live in fear of one another, can we?"
"Perhaps not," the elf replied, "I suppose we'll have to live with the possibility, guarding our words carefully for--oh months, I suppose." He reached for his drink, then hesitated, choosing instead to run a hand along the smooth wooden surface, "On second thought, shapeshifters are known to be quite patient. Perhaps we should wait a year or two before we discuss any truly important secrets?"
His companions nodded in agreement.
The table snickered. | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | Theldon – or at least the creature that was wearing his face – looked pale in the light of the campfire. As the wood crackled and burned, he chewed his lower lip, gathering his courage to speak.
“Guys … I … I have something to tell you,” he managed.
His three traveling companions looked at him. Vanariel snapped her spellbook shut and drew her staff. “What is it? An ambush? I told you guys I saw goblin-sign back there!”
“No, no! Not goblins!” Theldon said, holding his hands out. “It’s … it’s about me.”
Shiny Pete smirked. “What? You got the whore’s itch or something? Nothing to be ashamed of, buddy. Happened to us all once or twice.”
Dagmar glowered at the rogue from under bushy eyebrows. “Or mayhap a good number of times more than that.”
“No! It's not a disease either! It’s just …” Theldon took a deep breath. “Guys … I’m … I’m a doppelganger."
The three of them shared a long look, and then Vanariel and Shiny Pete burst out laughing. Dagmar’s glower deepened. “That’s no’ funny, lad,” he growled.
Vanariel and Shiny Pete stopped laughing. “Wait, wait,” the rogue said, “Dagmar, you didn’t *know?*”
Theldon looked shocked. “Wait, you guys *knew?*”
The elven woman tittered. “You’re not the shapeshifter you think you are. The real Theldon was an asshole.”
“Total dickwad,” Shiny Pete agreed. “In, like, every conceivable way.”
Dagmar leapt to his feet, drawing his axe. “You mean this is no’ a joke?” he roared, advancing on Theldon. “Die, fiend!”
As one, Vanariel and Shiny Pete placed themselves between the enraged dwarf and the doppleganger. “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Shiny Pete yelled. “This might not be the original Theldon, but he’s been with us for almost a year now. He was the guy who stood over you after you got paralyzed by a ghoul.”
“He took point when we fought that dragon,” Vanariel continued.
“Hell, he got in the face of evil sorcerer while you were busy chopping up his henchmen,” Shiny Pete added.
“Those henchmen represented a serious threat!” Dagmar retorted, “And it was no' like it was a full-grown dragon. Only a wee one!”
In unison, Valariel and Shiny Pete rolled their eyes. Dagmar glowered some more. He was good at it, and he liked to play to his strengths. At last the dwarf made a humphing noise and lowered his axe. Valariel sat down and opened her spellbook again. “Okay, that’s over right? We can get back to the adventuring?”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Pete said. Dagmar only grunted.
“Did you guys really know?” Theldon asked, still somewhat wary of the dwarf.
“Oh, yeah. I mean, it was kind of suspicious how he was dying of jungle rot one day and completely fine the next. But you’re really not much like the original Theldon at all. First of all, you’re actually useful in combat. And second of all, you’re a decent guy. I mean, I can have an ale with you and not worry that you’re going to stiff me on the check,” Pete said.
“Or stare at my tits while I’m trancing. Or grab my ass when I’m trying to brew potions,” Vanariel added. “And the ear jokes. Ugh, the original Theldon was such a creep. Why did we even keep him around?”
"Good question," Pete said. "I mean, I asked myself that a bunch of times after we got new Theldon. 'Why did we even keep that tool around in the first place?'"
“So you guys don’t even care that I’m a shapeshifter?”
“Not really, no,” Pete said. “I worked with lots of different people when I was in the Thieves’ Guild. Changelings weren’t any more likely to try killing me in my sleep than humans or half-elves. In my experience, everyone’s pretty human when you get down to it.”
“Hey! Speak for yourself, round-ears,” Vanariel said with half of a smile. “But nevertheless, I agree with the sentiment.”
“Oh,” Theldon said. He sat in own thoughts for a moment. “Thanks, guys. That means a lot to me.”
“Don’t mention it,” Pete said, and Vanariel nodded in agreement.
The evening passed in silence. Shiny Pete honed his daggers, and Vanariel memorized her spells. Dagmar and Theldon each sat in silence, alone with his thoughts.
At last the dwarf spoke. “Lad,” he asked the doppleganger, “have you ever tried maybe not being a shapeshifter?”
| Glanno sat down at the back of the tavern, their usual haunt. He pushed on the edge of the table, testing it. It didn't wobble. He smiled, then eyed his two companions, nodding.
"This is a good day, isn't it, uh...*hic*...Elgar?"
"Indeed. Another dragon slain, another town saved from the flames. He was a crafty one, but we proved more clever in the end." Elgar took a deep drink, setting it gingerly onto the fine mahogany surface.
The other adventurer, a tall, blonde woman, leaned back in her chair, eyeing the liquid in Elgar's drink, which was undulating strangely. "Mead?" she asked.
He nodded. "It's a nice change, I think. You should try some, Esmerelda.
She glanced at Glanno before replying. "No, not after what happened last time. Or have you forgotten?"
The elf simply laughed.
Glanno cleared his throat, eyes darting between his companions. "Well, in any case, it's nice to be clear of all those shapeshifters, eh, Es?"
She winked at him, leaning back stretching out her legs to rest them on the top of the table. "That it is, Glanno." Her boots quivered slightly, as if she had a sudden chill, but her companions said nothing.
Elgar raised his eyebrows at them, then leaned in close. "Are we really certain we've left them all behind? After all...well, any one of us could be..."
"Come now, Elgar," Glanno said, massaging one of his massive biceps while fingering the pommel of his sword, "We can't live in fear of one another, can we?"
"Perhaps not," the elf replied, "I suppose we'll have to live with the possibility, guarding our words carefully for--oh months, I suppose." He reached for his drink, then hesitated, choosing instead to run a hand along the smooth wooden surface, "On second thought, shapeshifters are known to be quite patient. Perhaps we should wait a year or two before we discuss any truly important secrets?"
His companions nodded in agreement.
The table snickered. | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | Theldon – or at least the creature that was wearing his face – looked pale in the light of the campfire. As the wood crackled and burned, he chewed his lower lip, gathering his courage to speak.
“Guys … I … I have something to tell you,” he managed.
His three traveling companions looked at him. Vanariel snapped her spellbook shut and drew her staff. “What is it? An ambush? I told you guys I saw goblin-sign back there!”
“No, no! Not goblins!” Theldon said, holding his hands out. “It’s … it’s about me.”
Shiny Pete smirked. “What? You got the whore’s itch or something? Nothing to be ashamed of, buddy. Happened to us all once or twice.”
Dagmar glowered at the rogue from under bushy eyebrows. “Or mayhap a good number of times more than that.”
“No! It's not a disease either! It’s just …” Theldon took a deep breath. “Guys … I’m … I’m a doppelganger."
The three of them shared a long look, and then Vanariel and Shiny Pete burst out laughing. Dagmar’s glower deepened. “That’s no’ funny, lad,” he growled.
Vanariel and Shiny Pete stopped laughing. “Wait, wait,” the rogue said, “Dagmar, you didn’t *know?*”
Theldon looked shocked. “Wait, you guys *knew?*”
The elven woman tittered. “You’re not the shapeshifter you think you are. The real Theldon was an asshole.”
“Total dickwad,” Shiny Pete agreed. “In, like, every conceivable way.”
Dagmar leapt to his feet, drawing his axe. “You mean this is no’ a joke?” he roared, advancing on Theldon. “Die, fiend!”
As one, Vanariel and Shiny Pete placed themselves between the enraged dwarf and the doppleganger. “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Shiny Pete yelled. “This might not be the original Theldon, but he’s been with us for almost a year now. He was the guy who stood over you after you got paralyzed by a ghoul.”
“He took point when we fought that dragon,” Vanariel continued.
“Hell, he got in the face of evil sorcerer while you were busy chopping up his henchmen,” Shiny Pete added.
“Those henchmen represented a serious threat!” Dagmar retorted, “And it was no' like it was a full-grown dragon. Only a wee one!”
In unison, Valariel and Shiny Pete rolled their eyes. Dagmar glowered some more. He was good at it, and he liked to play to his strengths. At last the dwarf made a humphing noise and lowered his axe. Valariel sat down and opened her spellbook again. “Okay, that’s over right? We can get back to the adventuring?”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Pete said. Dagmar only grunted.
“Did you guys really know?” Theldon asked, still somewhat wary of the dwarf.
“Oh, yeah. I mean, it was kind of suspicious how he was dying of jungle rot one day and completely fine the next. But you’re really not much like the original Theldon at all. First of all, you’re actually useful in combat. And second of all, you’re a decent guy. I mean, I can have an ale with you and not worry that you’re going to stiff me on the check,” Pete said.
“Or stare at my tits while I’m trancing. Or grab my ass when I’m trying to brew potions,” Vanariel added. “And the ear jokes. Ugh, the original Theldon was such a creep. Why did we even keep him around?”
"Good question," Pete said. "I mean, I asked myself that a bunch of times after we got new Theldon. 'Why did we even keep that tool around in the first place?'"
“So you guys don’t even care that I’m a shapeshifter?”
“Not really, no,” Pete said. “I worked with lots of different people when I was in the Thieves’ Guild. Changelings weren’t any more likely to try killing me in my sleep than humans or half-elves. In my experience, everyone’s pretty human when you get down to it.”
“Hey! Speak for yourself, round-ears,” Vanariel said with half of a smile. “But nevertheless, I agree with the sentiment.”
“Oh,” Theldon said. He sat in own thoughts for a moment. “Thanks, guys. That means a lot to me.”
“Don’t mention it,” Pete said, and Vanariel nodded in agreement.
The evening passed in silence. Shiny Pete honed his daggers, and Vanariel memorized her spells. Dagmar and Theldon each sat in silence, alone with his thoughts.
At last the dwarf spoke. “Lad,” he asked the doppleganger, “have you ever tried maybe not being a shapeshifter?”
| Glanno sat down at the back of the tavern, their usual haunt. He pushed on the edge of the table, testing it. It didn't wobble. He smiled, then eyed his two companions, nodding.
"This is a good day, isn't it, uh...*hic*...Elgar?"
"Indeed. Another dragon slain, another town saved from the flames. He was a crafty one, but we proved more clever in the end." Elgar took a deep drink, setting it gingerly onto the fine mahogany surface.
The other adventurer, a tall, blonde woman, leaned back in her chair, eyeing the liquid in Elgar's drink, which was undulating strangely. "Mead?" she asked.
He nodded. "It's a nice change, I think. You should try some, Esmerelda.
She glanced at Glanno before replying. "No, not after what happened last time. Or have you forgotten?"
The elf simply laughed.
Glanno cleared his throat, eyes darting between his companions. "Well, in any case, it's nice to be clear of all those shapeshifters, eh, Es?"
She winked at him, leaning back stretching out her legs to rest them on the top of the table. "That it is, Glanno." Her boots quivered slightly, as if she had a sudden chill, but her companions said nothing.
Elgar raised his eyebrows at them, then leaned in close. "Are we really certain we've left them all behind? After all...well, any one of us could be..."
"Come now, Elgar," Glanno said, massaging one of his massive biceps while fingering the pommel of his sword, "We can't live in fear of one another, can we?"
"Perhaps not," the elf replied, "I suppose we'll have to live with the possibility, guarding our words carefully for--oh months, I suppose." He reached for his drink, then hesitated, choosing instead to run a hand along the smooth wooden surface, "On second thought, shapeshifters are known to be quite patient. Perhaps we should wait a year or two before we discuss any truly important secrets?"
His companions nodded in agreement.
The table snickered. | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | Approaching the city gate, the adventurers stiffen as the guards halt their way. Of course, Mr. Nobility has to be the one to step forward and speak for the group. Marian lightly touches her bow, prepared to ready an arrow if her arrogant companion gets them into trouble again.
"Greetings, my good men. My name is Hector of the house Rellon. Do you happen to have any directions for a band of weary travelers? We seek no conflict, only a comfortable place to rest for the night."
Sora and Fiera share a look. The last time they entered a new city, he tried to march right past the guards, drawing his sword when they stopped him. They had to find accommodations in a dingy little inn outside the city gates, where the other patrons all gave the distinct impression of being criminals.
Now, though, one guard obligingly gave them directions, and Hector... Hector actually thanked him, and clapped his back like they were old friends. The guard laughed cheerfully and sent them on their way. This was wrong. Hector didn't have friends. He didn't make friends. The only reason his companions hadn't booted him was his skill in combat, which had just barely saved them from more problems than his personality had gotten them into.
That night, as Hector remained in the common room to buy another round for the crowd... an unusual act of generosity... the others gathered in the private room they'd booked.
"Do you remember earlier today, when he left to investigate that noise in the trees?" Asked Sora.
Marian nodded. "But there was nothing there."
"I know," said Sora, "But what if he liked?"
"You think he could be under someone's control?" Fiera chimed in. "I could dispel any magic that might be around him."
Sora shook his head. "I don't think it's control. He hasn't hurt us or been irrational. He's just... *different*. I think he's been replaced."
"That's pretty far-fetched." Marian's voice was skeptical.
"It's happened before," said Sora. "Not all shapeshifters are evil. Some of them just want a safe group to live among. A family. Like what we are to Hector, even though he's an asshole who doesn't deserve us."
Fiera narrowed her eyes. "How do you know so much about shapeshifters?"
Sora sighed. It was time to come clean. "Because I'm one of them. You guys didn't know the real Sora. He tried to raid my nest. Would have gotten a good part of my family killed, as well as his whole group, if I hadn't taken his place. Foolhardy bastard. His friends figured me out, though. I barely escaped, and by then I was used to this form."
"No." Fiera shook her head. "You can't just replace people. The real Hector..."
"The real Hector didn't give a toss about any of us," said Marian. "Do you really think he's worth our compassion? When was the last time he extended any to you?"
Fiera was quiet for a minute, remembering the time she'd broken a leg fighting a troll. And Hector elected to carry the troll's treasure chest out of the dungeon, leaving her to hobble after him using a giant club as a makeshift crutch. "I guess if this shapeshifter is anything like you, Sora, it's probably an improvement."
"I know I was," commented Marian. "My new parents must have known something was different, but the family got along so much better with me in her place that they never questioned it."
Fiera stood from her chair, backing toward the door. "Are you shapeshifters going to replace everybody?"
"No," said Sora and Marian simultaneously.
Sora continued. "You're a good person, Fiera. We only take the place of assholes. People whose absence would actually improve things. For everybody, not just those of us who can change our form. Trust me, Fiera." He smiled, the friendly expression that Fiera had come to find reassuring after the years they'd spent together. "You have nothing to worry about." | Glanno sat down at the back of the tavern, their usual haunt. He pushed on the edge of the table, testing it. It didn't wobble. He smiled, then eyed his two companions, nodding.
"This is a good day, isn't it, uh...*hic*...Elgar?"
"Indeed. Another dragon slain, another town saved from the flames. He was a crafty one, but we proved more clever in the end." Elgar took a deep drink, setting it gingerly onto the fine mahogany surface.
The other adventurer, a tall, blonde woman, leaned back in her chair, eyeing the liquid in Elgar's drink, which was undulating strangely. "Mead?" she asked.
He nodded. "It's a nice change, I think. You should try some, Esmerelda.
She glanced at Glanno before replying. "No, not after what happened last time. Or have you forgotten?"
The elf simply laughed.
Glanno cleared his throat, eyes darting between his companions. "Well, in any case, it's nice to be clear of all those shapeshifters, eh, Es?"
She winked at him, leaning back stretching out her legs to rest them on the top of the table. "That it is, Glanno." Her boots quivered slightly, as if she had a sudden chill, but her companions said nothing.
Elgar raised his eyebrows at them, then leaned in close. "Are we really certain we've left them all behind? After all...well, any one of us could be..."
"Come now, Elgar," Glanno said, massaging one of his massive biceps while fingering the pommel of his sword, "We can't live in fear of one another, can we?"
"Perhaps not," the elf replied, "I suppose we'll have to live with the possibility, guarding our words carefully for--oh months, I suppose." He reached for his drink, then hesitated, choosing instead to run a hand along the smooth wooden surface, "On second thought, shapeshifters are known to be quite patient. Perhaps we should wait a year or two before we discuss any truly important secrets?"
His companions nodded in agreement.
The table snickered. | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | Approaching the city gate, the adventurers stiffen as the guards halt their way. Of course, Mr. Nobility has to be the one to step forward and speak for the group. Marian lightly touches her bow, prepared to ready an arrow if her arrogant companion gets them into trouble again.
"Greetings, my good men. My name is Hector of the house Rellon. Do you happen to have any directions for a band of weary travelers? We seek no conflict, only a comfortable place to rest for the night."
Sora and Fiera share a look. The last time they entered a new city, he tried to march right past the guards, drawing his sword when they stopped him. They had to find accommodations in a dingy little inn outside the city gates, where the other patrons all gave the distinct impression of being criminals.
Now, though, one guard obligingly gave them directions, and Hector... Hector actually thanked him, and clapped his back like they were old friends. The guard laughed cheerfully and sent them on their way. This was wrong. Hector didn't have friends. He didn't make friends. The only reason his companions hadn't booted him was his skill in combat, which had just barely saved them from more problems than his personality had gotten them into.
That night, as Hector remained in the common room to buy another round for the crowd... an unusual act of generosity... the others gathered in the private room they'd booked.
"Do you remember earlier today, when he left to investigate that noise in the trees?" Asked Sora.
Marian nodded. "But there was nothing there."
"I know," said Sora, "But what if he lied?"
"You think he could be under someone's control?" Fiera chimed in. "I could dispel any magic that might be around him."
Sora shook his head. "I don't think it's control. He hasn't hurt us or been irrational. He's just... *different*. I think he's been replaced."
"That's pretty far-fetched." Marian's voice was skeptical.
"It's happened before," said Sora. "Not all shapeshifters are evil. Some of them just want a safe group to live among. A family. Like what we are to Hector, even though he's an asshole who doesn't deserve us."
Fiera narrowed her eyes. "How do you know so much about shapeshifters?"
Sora sighed. It was time to come clean. "Because I'm one of them. You guys didn't know the real Sora. He tried to raid my nest. Would have gotten a good part of my family killed, as well as his whole group, if I hadn't taken his place. Foolhardy bastard. His friends figured me out, though. I barely escaped, and by then I was used to this form."
"No." Fiera shook her head. "You can't just replace people. The real Hector..."
"The real Hector didn't give a toss about any of us," said Marian. "Do you really think he's worth our compassion? When was the last time he extended any to you?"
Fiera was quiet for a minute, remembering the time she'd broken a leg fighting a troll. And Hector elected to carry the troll's treasure chest out of the dungeon, leaving her to hobble after him using a giant club as a makeshift crutch. "I guess if this shapeshifter is anything like you, Sora, it's probably an improvement."
"I know I was," commented Marian. "My new parents must have known something was different, but the family got along so much better with me in her place that they never questioned it."
Fiera stood from her chair, backing toward the door. "Are you shapeshifters going to replace everybody?"
"No," said Sora and Marian simultaneously.
Sora continued. "You're a good person, Fiera. We only take the place of assholes. People whose absence would actually improve things. For everybody, not just those of us who can change our form. Trust me, Fiera." He smiled, the friendly expression that Fiera had come to find reassuring after the years they'd spent together. "You have nothing to worry about."
Edit: typo | Glanno sat down at the back of the tavern, their usual haunt. He pushed on the edge of the table, testing it. It didn't wobble. He smiled, then eyed his two companions, nodding.
"This is a good day, isn't it, uh...*hic*...Elgar?"
"Indeed. Another dragon slain, another town saved from the flames. He was a crafty one, but we proved more clever in the end." Elgar took a deep drink, setting it gingerly onto the fine mahogany surface.
The other adventurer, a tall, blonde woman, leaned back in her chair, eyeing the liquid in Elgar's drink, which was undulating strangely. "Mead?" she asked.
He nodded. "It's a nice change, I think. You should try some, Esmerelda.
She glanced at Glanno before replying. "No, not after what happened last time. Or have you forgotten?"
The elf simply laughed.
Glanno cleared his throat, eyes darting between his companions. "Well, in any case, it's nice to be clear of all those shapeshifters, eh, Es?"
She winked at him, leaning back stretching out her legs to rest them on the top of the table. "That it is, Glanno." Her boots quivered slightly, as if she had a sudden chill, but her companions said nothing.
Elgar raised his eyebrows at them, then leaned in close. "Are we really certain we've left them all behind? After all...well, any one of us could be..."
"Come now, Elgar," Glanno said, massaging one of his massive biceps while fingering the pommel of his sword, "We can't live in fear of one another, can we?"
"Perhaps not," the elf replied, "I suppose we'll have to live with the possibility, guarding our words carefully for--oh months, I suppose." He reached for his drink, then hesitated, choosing instead to run a hand along the smooth wooden surface, "On second thought, shapeshifters are known to be quite patient. Perhaps we should wait a year or two before we discuss any truly important secrets?"
His companions nodded in agreement.
The table snickered. | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | The miles between them had come and gone, leaving scars and wounds and memories and laughs. The horizon that day was clear, and the world fell into green and yellow, and far away were the mountains, and everything was cloaked in a dream. They had come far. The first peaks of Lankar shimmered in an ephemeral haze.
"We've made it," Keldar said.
"Not yet."
Annastatia was worn, cut and bruised. Her eyes had dimmed some, but even the terrors of the Void had receded for the moment. She was in the present then, looking ahead, same as them all.
None had seen the mountain before. Alton had not believed in it. Haldar had said they would die before they ever crossed the river.
Now he stared with timeless eyes, eyes which had seen things from the Darkness. Eyes which had seen the birth of his kin from the still mirror waters of the Endless Caves. Those eyes had seen more than Haldar could ever have imagined.
"I guess it does exist," Alton said.
He clapped Haldar on the back. An uneasy feeling overcame him with the touch.
*It feels like him,* he thought.
And his thought travelled in the wind of the Void, that invisible world which held all the unknown things, the things that caused madness.
"Yes," Annastatia said.
She looked at Haldar.
"What?" said Keldar.
She shook her head.
They were weary and made camp on the hill. For the days past they had slept during the day, marched in the night. Their bodies were worn and tired, a piece of them all left behind in the Grey River.
*The price was worth it,* Keldar thought.
He was an older man, a knight in youth, and now his world had gone and he was alone but for adventure.
*Is it?*
He could not answer himself and the question lingered, unanswered by even Annastatia. They were quiet there on the hill. Midday came with a scarce lunch and perfunctory talk.
"I've never been so far," said Alton.
They agreed. Home had sunk away like the dying sun, and this endless night of the unknown still had miles yet to go.
"We're alive though," Keldar said.
"Yes," Annastatia said.
They looked at Haldar. Behind those eyes were the midnight of malice. But that malice reflected the sun, and then it was blue and immediate and true.
"I made it," Haldar said. "Barely by the skin of my leather, but I made it."
In the Grey River there were ancient cliffs, hills and holes. There amidst that pocked earth lived the unknown things, the things which embraced the Darkness.
In that place Haldar had fallen into the murky waters of the Grey River and its currents had taken him.
His screams had pierced the Void then, echoing even on the hill they now camped on. Annastatia winced and she saw the time as it floated past in the forever winds of that realm.
"Help!" Haldar cried.
Her hand held her staff. Every inch of her was prepared to hold it for him to grab on to. She saw it happening, feeling his weight and the rescue. And yet she hesitated.
"Help!"
She had remembered the times before. His hand caressing hers, teasing some unwanted strength, threatening in the vaguest of ways. And even then his thoughts were certain of his foul desire.
And so the river had taken him and they all had watched. They had let it happen as the waters surrounded him in an opaque cover, the burial of some unwanted pest, and they feigned the mourning as all good friends should do.
Then they were three.
But he had come back. The first trees were tall and skinny and gave little shade. Their slanting shadows were bars as they passed, looking like prisoners in a dream world, and then from that shifting prison, Haldar had come, wet and worn. The Grey River had taken much from him, he said, and he was different, completely different.
"I left more of my soul there than you," he said.
They looked at him and knew what he was, or what he wasn't. That night they discussed it in secret, and decided they would bide time before doing what must be done.
Three days had passed since then, but that time still had not come.
Sleep overcame them and they rested awhile. The falling sun awoke them to a red and orange sky and their shadows spilled past the hill.
"Statia," Alton said.
He was stretching.
"Yes?"
"I've had a bad dream. Worse than any of the others before."
"Was it of your past? The stealing in your mother's house?"
"No. No it was..."
She saw his face. She touched his head and the after images of the fading dream kindled within her.
Haldar stared beneath a blackened sky, alone and afraid. All around a great water rushed him, surrounding him with its endless sound.
The dream faded and she recoiled.
"I... I have no remedy," she said.
She looked at Haldar. The thing which pretended to be him looked at her and smiled. Though shifters like him were not connected as strongly to the Void, she could feel his thoughts in the air, like some distant food that has long been eaten.
*He means me no malice. Not like his...*
Victim. But she could not say the word.
Keldar walked to Haldar and put his hand on his shoulder.
"How is your wound?"
"Better now," Haldar said.
*He feels the same*, Keldar thought. *He really does.*
Then they packed their things and prepared for another night of walking. Lankar glittered in the night like some crystal, and yet soft as home's bed sheets on a cold night.
"What's there again?" Haldar asked.
He looked at them to see if any suspected. He thought they did. He thought he should kill them, but living in the black had not tainted his heart.
*Never have I seen such beauty as her.*
And in the moonlight Annastatia was some Queen, the kind of which no longer walks this world. Some distant being, ghost-like and tender, and yet strong and hardy with eyes opened into the real world.
*But she is Keldar's.*
And he felt sad. He felt the light on him and looked up.
*I should kill them and have her to myself.*
But she would die first before such things could happen. She would kill him then surely. They already considered the deed. He closed his eyes. The light painted him with a warmth the others could not feel.
*They have not lived in the dark,* he thought. *They are human. Weak and ignorant of the Dark, for they know not of such things.*
"Lankar," Alton said. "The mountain of Dreams. There, as legend goes, is the Spring of Dreaming. One sip of its water will change you. It will make whatever is in your heart come true."
"It can change the world physically?"
"No," said Annastatia. "But it will change *you*. It will change the spirit so that what you hold dearest will come true in a way of its own. It is not a place of wishes."
"It is like the Grey River then?" Haldar asked.
"Yes, in a sense. But it does not take. It gives and cleanses."
Then they were quiet. In their hearts they were uneasy. Haldar's death weighed immensely on them.
*The Spring will clean me,* Keldar thought.
Annastatia held him. Her face was pretty in the white light and he looked at her and loved her anew once more. He put his arm around her.
*I am an evil man,* he thought.
She looked at him with those sad eyes of hers.
*If that be true, then so are we all my love.*
He squeezed her hand.
*What hope is there then? This guilt weighs too heavy on me.*
*The Spring, as you've thought. The Spring is our only hope. Haldar was a fool. The River took him of its own choosing. His heart was black, blacker than this imposter.*
"I like you," Alton said to Haldar. "I don't know if you understand, but I'll be truthful. I like you."
And Haldar, the thing, understood as much. It too had thoughts that raged in an incomprehensible storm.
"I like you too," he said. "All of you."
"Then may the Spring save us," Keldar said.
And they marched in silence as the night slowly passed.
-
*Hi there! If you liked this story, please consider my subreddit r/PanMan. It has all my WP stories as well as some original ones. I'm slowly working on it and getting it to look nicer, so I promise it will look better soon. Thank you!* | Glanno sat down at the back of the tavern, their usual haunt. He pushed on the edge of the table, testing it. It didn't wobble. He smiled, then eyed his two companions, nodding.
"This is a good day, isn't it, uh...*hic*...Elgar?"
"Indeed. Another dragon slain, another town saved from the flames. He was a crafty one, but we proved more clever in the end." Elgar took a deep drink, setting it gingerly onto the fine mahogany surface.
The other adventurer, a tall, blonde woman, leaned back in her chair, eyeing the liquid in Elgar's drink, which was undulating strangely. "Mead?" she asked.
He nodded. "It's a nice change, I think. You should try some, Esmerelda.
She glanced at Glanno before replying. "No, not after what happened last time. Or have you forgotten?"
The elf simply laughed.
Glanno cleared his throat, eyes darting between his companions. "Well, in any case, it's nice to be clear of all those shapeshifters, eh, Es?"
She winked at him, leaning back stretching out her legs to rest them on the top of the table. "That it is, Glanno." Her boots quivered slightly, as if she had a sudden chill, but her companions said nothing.
Elgar raised his eyebrows at them, then leaned in close. "Are we really certain we've left them all behind? After all...well, any one of us could be..."
"Come now, Elgar," Glanno said, massaging one of his massive biceps while fingering the pommel of his sword, "We can't live in fear of one another, can we?"
"Perhaps not," the elf replied, "I suppose we'll have to live with the possibility, guarding our words carefully for--oh months, I suppose." He reached for his drink, then hesitated, choosing instead to run a hand along the smooth wooden surface, "On second thought, shapeshifters are known to be quite patient. Perhaps we should wait a year or two before we discuss any truly important secrets?"
His companions nodded in agreement.
The table snickered. | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | "That was..." Brawg began, staggering over the bodies of the fallen goblins, his boots squelching in the treacle-like blood.
"Far too..." said Vesperr, returning her bow to her back, and beginning to pluck out arrows from the deceased enemies.
"Oxyrin!" finished Oxyrin, his pointed hat falling over his eyes once again. Dribble oozed down from his mouth and his pupils spun this way and that, as if two compasses confused by magnets.
Brawg and Vesperr looked at each other for a moment, then burst out laughing. Brawg brought a thunderous hand down on the wizard's back. "Don't ever change, Oxyrin!" he said.
"Oh, Oxyrin," grinned Vesperr, "you're the reason we do this, you know? For that smile on your face." She wiped away a the spittle from his lips, then shook her finger, sending the spit plopping onto the ground.
"Oxyrin!" Oxyrin repeated. A pointed tongue darted out of his mouth and latched onto a fly that was hovering over a brutalised body below.
"I'm going to pretend I didn't just see that," said Brawg with a wink. "Okay gang, I'd say we're all done here. I believe its time to go collect our reward."
"Not so fast, my friends," came a mysterious voice from behind them. Only, when they turned, there was *nothing* behind them.
Slowly, the blue-robed wizard hazed into existence. "It is I, the *real* Oxyrin! I have been trapped for the longest time, but I have finally outsmarted my captors and have returned to my friends. For no one is as clever as the Great Oxyrin!"
Brawg and Vesperr glanced at each other, then let out a joint gasp.
"Quite you might gasp," said Oxyrin, as he turned and pointed an accusing finger at the other blue wizard, who was now on all fours chasing after a spider. "For that fellow, has fooled you, my dear friends. But he is nothing more than an impostor! A Doppelganger! A fake, a fraud, and dare I say it, a phoney."
Brawg nudged Vesperr and they both gasped again.
"How.. erm, how can we believe you?" asked Vesperr, her top lip wet with nervous sweat. "How do we know he--"she pointed to the to the wizard, who was now chewing on something--"isn't the real Oxyrin. After all, he would have had to fool us both for two entire years."
Oxyrin rolled his eyes. "Hardly a challenging task. You two never were the"--his hands burst into blue flames--"brightest sparks. Ha. Hahaha."
Brawg's muscles tensed. Vesperr put a hand against his chest.
"That's not proof enough. For our Oxyrin can also do such petty parlour tricks."
"Very well," Oxyrin sighed, "I shall prove it. We shall have a wizard-off."
"Smart," said Vesperr. She let out a high pitched whistle, at which the other Oxyrin came bounding over to her.
"Oxyrin!" he sputtered as he arrived.
"Is that all he can say? How could you *possibly* believe he was me?"
"Good point," said Brawg. "His vocabulary is much larger."
"Oh. You made a joke. How very amusing."
"Okay," said Vesperr. "Round one of the wizard-off. *Shape-shifting.*"
"What? What a stupid round," complained Oxyrin, "for sniffing out a shape-shifter!" His face was red and a vein popped out of his forehead, pulsating like waves on the ocean. "Unbelievable idiocy. How you have possibly survived this long without me to guide you -- heaven only knows!"
"Oxyrin!" replied the other Oxyrin.
"Well, if you can't do it and he can..." said Brawg shrugging, "then I guess we know who the real wizard is."
"Oh... *pish!* Very well. And what must we change into, pray tell?"
"Something very small. To really challenge your morphitisation skills. A fly. Simple. First one to transform into a fly wins."
"Sala kazoo, Sala kazam!" shouted Oxyrin. There was a puff of smoke that left Vesperr and Brawg coughing. As it cleared, and only for the briefest moment, they saw a fly. Then, they saw a huge, pointed tongue. Finally, they saw an Oxyrin chewing on and then swallowing *something*.
"Oxyrin!" he shouted triumphantly, as Brawg and Vesperr collapsed into a fit of laughter.
"Oh Oxyrin," said Brawg, slapping him on the back "you really are too much."
"And," said Vesperr, "we wouldn't have it any other way!"
| Glanno sat down at the back of the tavern, their usual haunt. He pushed on the edge of the table, testing it. It didn't wobble. He smiled, then eyed his two companions, nodding.
"This is a good day, isn't it, uh...*hic*...Elgar?"
"Indeed. Another dragon slain, another town saved from the flames. He was a crafty one, but we proved more clever in the end." Elgar took a deep drink, setting it gingerly onto the fine mahogany surface.
The other adventurer, a tall, blonde woman, leaned back in her chair, eyeing the liquid in Elgar's drink, which was undulating strangely. "Mead?" she asked.
He nodded. "It's a nice change, I think. You should try some, Esmerelda.
She glanced at Glanno before replying. "No, not after what happened last time. Or have you forgotten?"
The elf simply laughed.
Glanno cleared his throat, eyes darting between his companions. "Well, in any case, it's nice to be clear of all those shapeshifters, eh, Es?"
She winked at him, leaning back stretching out her legs to rest them on the top of the table. "That it is, Glanno." Her boots quivered slightly, as if she had a sudden chill, but her companions said nothing.
Elgar raised his eyebrows at them, then leaned in close. "Are we really certain we've left them all behind? After all...well, any one of us could be..."
"Come now, Elgar," Glanno said, massaging one of his massive biceps while fingering the pommel of his sword, "We can't live in fear of one another, can we?"
"Perhaps not," the elf replied, "I suppose we'll have to live with the possibility, guarding our words carefully for--oh months, I suppose." He reached for his drink, then hesitated, choosing instead to run a hand along the smooth wooden surface, "On second thought, shapeshifters are known to be quite patient. Perhaps we should wait a year or two before we discuss any truly important secrets?"
His companions nodded in agreement.
The table snickered. | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | "A fine...mead?!" Rorik shouts over the din of the tavern. His companions smile and nod along with him as he sings some old barbarian tune.
Sings it wrong. They don't tell him that though.
Delia, the group's cleric leans over to their mage.
"Do you think he knows?"
Melvar just shakes his head and holds out a palm towards their massive friend. Friend as of lately, of course. Rorik was a massive pain for the group long before the shifter stole his face.
"He definitely doesn't but...I think I like him. Rorik was a bit of a jerk, always running off into the dungeons with that stupid battlecry. Remember when we went into the Crypt of Alohar, how many good people did he get killed?"
"Yeah...he's kinda cute now. Like a child or something."
They both watch Rorik move around the tavern with his mug and talk to other groups of adventurers. He's loud but not overbearing. He listens to the stories of others instead of telling his own. He drinks but not to excess. He is nothing like the barbarian they all had come to know and...
Melvar doesn't quite finish the thought.
"You know what Del, I like him. I know he's a shifter but look at everyone. We all know and he's trying so hard to be like Rorik but he just can't. I don't think there's a mean bone in that thing's body. You know that he hasn't made fun of my beard once, not in months."
She snorts. The young mage was trying so hard to grow it out and he'd been self-conscious about it for months.
A warrior passing by their table to his own party leans over and whispers it to the pair.
"You should keep him. He's an improvement."
"Friends!" Rorik shouts, sitting again at their table, "What fun! And we do this between every adventure? And people give us gold to go on those adventures? To spend here? Amazing!"
He is off again before they can even respond.
"Do you think The Dwarf knows?" Melvar watches Rorik join another random group of adventures and sing yet another song. Still wrong.
Delia shrugs.
"I don't know and I don't care. We're gonna keep him. He's like a dog or something. But useful."
Melvar strokes his "beard" for a moment.
"Alright, we'll keep him. But I swear if he ever makes fun of my beard-"
"What? You'll strangle him with one of your wisps? You should really shave, you're looking more like a magical hobo than a wizard. 'I cast: smell of unwashedness!'"
As she walks away laughing at her own joke Melvar narrows his eyes. He lifts his mug and mutters something into it before drinking.
"I'll replace you too if I have to..." | Glanno sat down at the back of the tavern, their usual haunt. He pushed on the edge of the table, testing it. It didn't wobble. He smiled, then eyed his two companions, nodding.
"This is a good day, isn't it, uh...*hic*...Elgar?"
"Indeed. Another dragon slain, another town saved from the flames. He was a crafty one, but we proved more clever in the end." Elgar took a deep drink, setting it gingerly onto the fine mahogany surface.
The other adventurer, a tall, blonde woman, leaned back in her chair, eyeing the liquid in Elgar's drink, which was undulating strangely. "Mead?" she asked.
He nodded. "It's a nice change, I think. You should try some, Esmerelda.
She glanced at Glanno before replying. "No, not after what happened last time. Or have you forgotten?"
The elf simply laughed.
Glanno cleared his throat, eyes darting between his companions. "Well, in any case, it's nice to be clear of all those shapeshifters, eh, Es?"
She winked at him, leaning back stretching out her legs to rest them on the top of the table. "That it is, Glanno." Her boots quivered slightly, as if she had a sudden chill, but her companions said nothing.
Elgar raised his eyebrows at them, then leaned in close. "Are we really certain we've left them all behind? After all...well, any one of us could be..."
"Come now, Elgar," Glanno said, massaging one of his massive biceps while fingering the pommel of his sword, "We can't live in fear of one another, can we?"
"Perhaps not," the elf replied, "I suppose we'll have to live with the possibility, guarding our words carefully for--oh months, I suppose." He reached for his drink, then hesitated, choosing instead to run a hand along the smooth wooden surface, "On second thought, shapeshifters are known to be quite patient. Perhaps we should wait a year or two before we discuss any truly important secrets?"
His companions nodded in agreement.
The table snickered. | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | First WP so looking for constructive criticism please 😊 (especially on formatting)
_______________________________________________
“Excellent!” Go’rim cackled out like a thirsty snake, brushing his thin diseased white hair back into place.
“If we keep all the plants in this village hydrated, nothing can stop I the evil Go’rim chancellor of destruction from irritating their allergies!”
Go’rim shook his hands furiously then doubled over in evil laughter.
“He’s wheezing…” whispered Serra, one of four members in the council of evil. The other members of the council had long suspected Go’rim had been replaced by a shifter. Serra adjusted in her noblewoman’s coat, then turned her attention back to the speaker
The laughter echoed throughout the small meeting, absorbed by the poor acoustics in the wooden town hall, then stopped.
“and to keep these plants hydrated, do you know what we will do?” Go’rim paused and raised an eyebrow as he eyed each member of the council, trying to suppress an overjoyed snicker.
“We will teach them the techniques of irrigation! Just think of it! the villagers working all day in the hot sun digging channels, they will become exhausted!”
The laughter started again.
Serra rolled her eyes meeting the gaze of another council member. The councils last scheme had been to inflict a group of shifters with a magical Aphasia. Serra looking at her notes read the description once over “a disease where one can misunderstand words and their meaning.”
One of the shifters had gotten to poor old weak Go’rim. Good riddance. Serra took a few final notes on the experiment, raised her staff, then incinerated the creature.
| Koe was lizard. He must remember that. IF he were to forget, he would lose his form, and without his form he was vulnerable. Vulnerability was death. Death was the end. Koe did not want to end, he would rather be a lizard.
"Silent you filthy slatten!" A deep voice boomed on the other side of the tree Koe was hiding on. "The shapeshifter is here somewhere, I know it! Now take your bloody bitch and go! FIND IT!" The voice boomed again. There was a soft grunt of confirmation, and then all Koe could hear was the sound of someone and some... thing... moving away.
Koe scrambled around the trunk of the branch he was hiding on until he could peek over it. He was just in time to see a small she-elf walking in the opposite direction, closely followed by a dire wolf. ::By the shape of mud, look at the size of that thing!:: He thought before turning his attention to the loud one.
He had been chasing Koe for so long. This was to be his 24th consecutive year of hunting him.
He was a tall man, closer to seventeen hands than sixteen. The years had robbed the mans hair of its color, leaving it a mildewy gray with tiny spots of black where once a lush dark brown had been. His face was leathery and sun beaten, his freckles all but lost. He wore a brigantine, but the years had rusted the iron studs, and the leather had holes all throughout it. At his hip was a sheath of a red lacquered wood. In his hands was a longsword, polished to a shine, and covered in runes.
Koe had to look away. His eyes hurt. ::Silver. Damnit Algin, what are you doing?:: After enough time had passed for the pain to subside, Koe refocused on the graying man. ::Time has been cruel to you, old friend.::
He was Koe's friend. At least to Koe. When Algin had been a young boy he had chanced upon Koe in the form of a bear. Algin had barely seen two winters, he was barely more than a bite...
Koe allowed himself to remember the moment. The squeal of delight as the little boy ran right up to him and starting running his hands through is fur. He had no fear. Only innocence. He had stood up on his hind legs and with a bellowing roar from the belly of his stomach he began to... Dance. He had danced the Lily dance in the form of a bear for the brave child.
That little boy had followed Koe around after that for six days. Koe had changed his form twice in front of the boy, once when he tried to hide from him, and then again when he realized the boy would die if he did not intervene. He had decided to take the boy to the nearest man-village, and after six days he accomplished his task. He would never forget those sad brown eyes when he sat Algin upon the plank roof of the guard house. He had thought then that he would never know the little boys name, that this would be the last time he would see him.
In many ways, he was right.
That little boy was gone now. The years had not been nice to Algin Cutter. As soon as the boy could talk he began telling stories of the dancing bear. Ridicule soon followed. As a social malcontent, he had grown up fighting enemies everywhere. On his last name day he had proclaimed himself a hunter and had taken to the woods in search of the dancing bear. After 30 days of nothing, Algin returned to the village empty handed and starved. | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | The light was fading quickly, they needed to get camp set up. Mordram the warlock spoke an incantation, a small pile of tinder lit just below his fingertips. He began pulling some rations out of his pack. Aisha was busy praying to the setting sun, she wouldn’t help until the last glimmer of light left the western sky. Archibauld figured he’d at least use the little bugger until they decided what to do with him.
“Hey Eric, can you go get us some water from the river down there?” The orc perked up, he pointed at himself sheepishly, looking behind him to see if anyone else might be the target of the request. When he saw no one else moving, he hopped up; he immediately forgot the broken lyre that he had been trying, very unsuccessfully, to play.
“Elric fetch water? Yes, yes. Elric fetches the best water! You will see. The water for his friends! Best friends of Elric the music man!!!” He started galloping towards the river, only to have to turn back to grab the pail that he had forgotten at Archibauld’s feet.
Mordram spoke up once the orc was out of earshot, “Don’t get attached, we’ll have to do something about him soon. He’s a liability.”
Archibauld was setting up the tent, he noticed some blood stains on the yellow fabric, the original Eric had been carrying it,”He’s been following us for weeks—” Mordram’s eyebrow raised “—exactly, he wasn’t part of the ambush. He killed that bugbear once Eric went down.”
Aisha stood up, dusted off her knees, “I sense no ill will in him.”
“He’s going to slit our throats in our sleep, or bring a whole army of orcs down on us—” Mordram had set up a small pot over the fire, he just needed the water from the river.”—Also, I think it’s really creepy he’s trying to take over Eric’s identity.”
Aisha snorted, “He hasn’t hit on me a single time, so he hasn’t done that good a job.”
Archibauld moved on to his longbow, pulling out some oil and cloth, “Like I said, he’s been following us for weeks. How many times could he have tried to ambush us or bring his clan on us? I think he’s alone. Without Eric, we’re down one. The prophet said we needed four…”
Aisha jumped in, “Mordy, you didn’t even want Eric to come.”
“I don’t give a shit about Eric, he was a liability, too. I just don’t want a bloody orc staring over me while we sleep.” Mordram walked off towards the edge of camp, looking North to where they’d find their final destination.”—We do need a fourth…”
Archibauld clapped him on the shoulder, Mordram hadn’t heard him come up behind him, he hated rangers, “Thats the spirit, Mordy! We’ll have him sleep outside the tent, Aisha will let us know if she senses anything wrong with him.”
A rustle from the bushes alerted the three that their new companion was returning. He stumbled into the clearing with a full pail of water and three fish hanging from a string.
“Hullo friends of Elric my human person that I am! Hullo, Elric brings gifts of delicious fishes for eating with his best friends. Let Elric play beauty sounds while you burn delicious foods on fires because that is how humans like us eat delicious foods.” He dropped the water and fish by the fire, then hopped on his rock and began picking at the broken lyre.
Mordram exchanged a smirk with Aisha and Archibauld, “We’re very glad you’re back…Elric. Play us a human song for us to eat delicious foods.”
Elric chirped with glee, his grin taking up his whole face. | Koe was lizard. He must remember that. IF he were to forget, he would lose his form, and without his form he was vulnerable. Vulnerability was death. Death was the end. Koe did not want to end, he would rather be a lizard.
"Silent you filthy slatten!" A deep voice boomed on the other side of the tree Koe was hiding on. "The shapeshifter is here somewhere, I know it! Now take your bloody bitch and go! FIND IT!" The voice boomed again. There was a soft grunt of confirmation, and then all Koe could hear was the sound of someone and some... thing... moving away.
Koe scrambled around the trunk of the branch he was hiding on until he could peek over it. He was just in time to see a small she-elf walking in the opposite direction, closely followed by a dire wolf. ::By the shape of mud, look at the size of that thing!:: He thought before turning his attention to the loud one.
He had been chasing Koe for so long. This was to be his 24th consecutive year of hunting him.
He was a tall man, closer to seventeen hands than sixteen. The years had robbed the mans hair of its color, leaving it a mildewy gray with tiny spots of black where once a lush dark brown had been. His face was leathery and sun beaten, his freckles all but lost. He wore a brigantine, but the years had rusted the iron studs, and the leather had holes all throughout it. At his hip was a sheath of a red lacquered wood. In his hands was a longsword, polished to a shine, and covered in runes.
Koe had to look away. His eyes hurt. ::Silver. Damnit Algin, what are you doing?:: After enough time had passed for the pain to subside, Koe refocused on the graying man. ::Time has been cruel to you, old friend.::
He was Koe's friend. At least to Koe. When Algin had been a young boy he had chanced upon Koe in the form of a bear. Algin had barely seen two winters, he was barely more than a bite...
Koe allowed himself to remember the moment. The squeal of delight as the little boy ran right up to him and starting running his hands through is fur. He had no fear. Only innocence. He had stood up on his hind legs and with a bellowing roar from the belly of his stomach he began to... Dance. He had danced the Lily dance in the form of a bear for the brave child.
That little boy had followed Koe around after that for six days. Koe had changed his form twice in front of the boy, once when he tried to hide from him, and then again when he realized the boy would die if he did not intervene. He had decided to take the boy to the nearest man-village, and after six days he accomplished his task. He would never forget those sad brown eyes when he sat Algin upon the plank roof of the guard house. He had thought then that he would never know the little boys name, that this would be the last time he would see him.
In many ways, he was right.
That little boy was gone now. The years had not been nice to Algin Cutter. As soon as the boy could talk he began telling stories of the dancing bear. Ridicule soon followed. As a social malcontent, he had grown up fighting enemies everywhere. On his last name day he had proclaimed himself a hunter and had taken to the woods in search of the dancing bear. After 30 days of nothing, Algin returned to the village empty handed and starved. | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | John, George, and Ringo were huddled together inside a secret room on the fantastical magical yellow submarine.
"George, how confident are you?"
George left his momentary silence of contemplation to say " Paul is dead man, miss him."
Ringo asks, "do you though? I mean I doubt if you guys would miss me either."
John shook his head, "we must have lost him on our way through Abby Road"
George sighed "I like the new one. I say we let it be."
A knock on the door. "You there guys? I was hoping we'd do a music number about friendship."
John looked at the others, and they nodded in agreement. John opened the door and announced, "ALL TOGETHER NOW!" | Koe was lizard. He must remember that. IF he were to forget, he would lose his form, and without his form he was vulnerable. Vulnerability was death. Death was the end. Koe did not want to end, he would rather be a lizard.
"Silent you filthy slatten!" A deep voice boomed on the other side of the tree Koe was hiding on. "The shapeshifter is here somewhere, I know it! Now take your bloody bitch and go! FIND IT!" The voice boomed again. There was a soft grunt of confirmation, and then all Koe could hear was the sound of someone and some... thing... moving away.
Koe scrambled around the trunk of the branch he was hiding on until he could peek over it. He was just in time to see a small she-elf walking in the opposite direction, closely followed by a dire wolf. ::By the shape of mud, look at the size of that thing!:: He thought before turning his attention to the loud one.
He had been chasing Koe for so long. This was to be his 24th consecutive year of hunting him.
He was a tall man, closer to seventeen hands than sixteen. The years had robbed the mans hair of its color, leaving it a mildewy gray with tiny spots of black where once a lush dark brown had been. His face was leathery and sun beaten, his freckles all but lost. He wore a brigantine, but the years had rusted the iron studs, and the leather had holes all throughout it. At his hip was a sheath of a red lacquered wood. In his hands was a longsword, polished to a shine, and covered in runes.
Koe had to look away. His eyes hurt. ::Silver. Damnit Algin, what are you doing?:: After enough time had passed for the pain to subside, Koe refocused on the graying man. ::Time has been cruel to you, old friend.::
He was Koe's friend. At least to Koe. When Algin had been a young boy he had chanced upon Koe in the form of a bear. Algin had barely seen two winters, he was barely more than a bite...
Koe allowed himself to remember the moment. The squeal of delight as the little boy ran right up to him and starting running his hands through is fur. He had no fear. Only innocence. He had stood up on his hind legs and with a bellowing roar from the belly of his stomach he began to... Dance. He had danced the Lily dance in the form of a bear for the brave child.
That little boy had followed Koe around after that for six days. Koe had changed his form twice in front of the boy, once when he tried to hide from him, and then again when he realized the boy would die if he did not intervene. He had decided to take the boy to the nearest man-village, and after six days he accomplished his task. He would never forget those sad brown eyes when he sat Algin upon the plank roof of the guard house. He had thought then that he would never know the little boys name, that this would be the last time he would see him.
In many ways, he was right.
That little boy was gone now. The years had not been nice to Algin Cutter. As soon as the boy could talk he began telling stories of the dancing bear. Ridicule soon followed. As a social malcontent, he had grown up fighting enemies everywhere. On his last name day he had proclaimed himself a hunter and had taken to the woods in search of the dancing bear. After 30 days of nothing, Algin returned to the village empty handed and starved. | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | The tavern was alight with candles and warm fires, the smell of meats and bread wafted through to the rafters of wood and plaster. Ale stained the floor in places and the barkeep had been working on a single mug for a startling amount of time. All and all a lively place to be on this evening.
"Ah and a fine night to you as well gentlemen! Merry blessings!" The rogue said, as the men who joined him for cards departed a few coins heavier then they were at start.
"Is this not grand fellows?" The elf turned to his crew. "Ale in the air! A tavern filled with beautiful women! And my closest friend in the world." He stood then, a leg up on the top of the table, his back leg supporting him from the ground
"Ladies! Gentlemen!" He yelled, "Tonight, join me in toast to this merry band of fighters, lovers and the heroes of this town tonight! We are all thankful," he stopped to smile at his friends, the ale tinting his checks red "but I am thankful, for they are the truest of my friends" and with that he drank. The here-heres rose in strength from the crowd, and he was jostled away by the crowd with promises to be back later.
The dwarf, gnome and orc all sat in silence, looking at their drinks solemnly.
The dwarf sighed, pinching the top of his nose,
The orc had his hand in his head looking off into nothingness,
Finally the gnome chimed in, quietly, but with a resolute tone
"Okay, I'll say it. He's a much better companion then Roderick and we should do everything in our earthly powers not to mess this up."
The orc and dwarf both sighed in unanimous relief
The orc chimed in first with a hushed tone and feeling in his voice "Its like he knew what a whoreson Roderick was!" He said, sitting at attention once again " its like he knew and said to himself 'oh! These chaps look like they could use a new, better companion!' Then took it upon himself, through all the peril, to join us in disguise! All while throwing Roderick into god knows where!" He laughed. "The monster was OUR hero!"
The dwarf was next, wide eyed and hands extended to point out "Roderick" in the crowd. " look at that bloody rogue, he blends right in, they would never know they're holding possibly one of the most dangerous monsters in the land" he lowered his hands, then pointed out, " for all that, doesn't that also make him a better rogue?" They all agreed quietly.
The orc chimed in once more, tentatively, " look Roderick is a whoreson who would and almost did murder us for a small some of coin, twice." They all agreed muttering comments under their breath, " but were the you know...good guys... shouldn't we at least try to save him?"
The others were about to reluctantly agree when "Roderick" appeared before them once again
"My friends! this is as much your victory as mine! More so! Come join us, the mayor seems keen on raising our rewards! I thought it only fitting you be by my... Nay, I be by your sides during this!" He smiled warmly.
They looked at each other, shrugged and smiled
"No that's fine, we can be knaves for a night." The gnome said, stepping up from his seat. | Koe was lizard. He must remember that. IF he were to forget, he would lose his form, and without his form he was vulnerable. Vulnerability was death. Death was the end. Koe did not want to end, he would rather be a lizard.
"Silent you filthy slatten!" A deep voice boomed on the other side of the tree Koe was hiding on. "The shapeshifter is here somewhere, I know it! Now take your bloody bitch and go! FIND IT!" The voice boomed again. There was a soft grunt of confirmation, and then all Koe could hear was the sound of someone and some... thing... moving away.
Koe scrambled around the trunk of the branch he was hiding on until he could peek over it. He was just in time to see a small she-elf walking in the opposite direction, closely followed by a dire wolf. ::By the shape of mud, look at the size of that thing!:: He thought before turning his attention to the loud one.
He had been chasing Koe for so long. This was to be his 24th consecutive year of hunting him.
He was a tall man, closer to seventeen hands than sixteen. The years had robbed the mans hair of its color, leaving it a mildewy gray with tiny spots of black where once a lush dark brown had been. His face was leathery and sun beaten, his freckles all but lost. He wore a brigantine, but the years had rusted the iron studs, and the leather had holes all throughout it. At his hip was a sheath of a red lacquered wood. In his hands was a longsword, polished to a shine, and covered in runes.
Koe had to look away. His eyes hurt. ::Silver. Damnit Algin, what are you doing?:: After enough time had passed for the pain to subside, Koe refocused on the graying man. ::Time has been cruel to you, old friend.::
He was Koe's friend. At least to Koe. When Algin had been a young boy he had chanced upon Koe in the form of a bear. Algin had barely seen two winters, he was barely more than a bite...
Koe allowed himself to remember the moment. The squeal of delight as the little boy ran right up to him and starting running his hands through is fur. He had no fear. Only innocence. He had stood up on his hind legs and with a bellowing roar from the belly of his stomach he began to... Dance. He had danced the Lily dance in the form of a bear for the brave child.
That little boy had followed Koe around after that for six days. Koe had changed his form twice in front of the boy, once when he tried to hide from him, and then again when he realized the boy would die if he did not intervene. He had decided to take the boy to the nearest man-village, and after six days he accomplished his task. He would never forget those sad brown eyes when he sat Algin upon the plank roof of the guard house. He had thought then that he would never know the little boys name, that this would be the last time he would see him.
In many ways, he was right.
That little boy was gone now. The years had not been nice to Algin Cutter. As soon as the boy could talk he began telling stories of the dancing bear. Ridicule soon followed. As a social malcontent, he had grown up fighting enemies everywhere. On his last name day he had proclaimed himself a hunter and had taken to the woods in search of the dancing bear. After 30 days of nothing, Algin returned to the village empty handed and starved. | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | John, George, and Ringo were huddled together inside a secret room on the fantastical magical yellow submarine.
"George, how confident are you?"
George left his momentary silence of contemplation to say " Paul is dead man, miss him."
Ringo asks, "do you though? I mean I doubt if you guys would miss me either."
John shook his head, "we must have lost him on our way through Abby Road"
George sighed "I like the new one. I say we let it be."
A knock on the door. "You there guys? I was hoping we'd do a music number about friendship."
John looked at the others, and they nodded in agreement. John opened the door and announced, "ALL TOGETHER NOW!" | Koe was lizard. He must remember that. IF he were to forget, he would lose his form, and without his form he was vulnerable. Vulnerability was death. Death was the end. Koe did not want to end, he would rather be a lizard.
"Silent you filthy slatten!" A deep voice boomed on the other side of the tree Koe was hiding on. "The shapeshifter is here somewhere, I know it! Now take your bloody bitch and go! FIND IT!" The voice boomed again. There was a soft grunt of confirmation, and then all Koe could hear was the sound of someone and some... thing... moving away.
Koe scrambled around the trunk of the branch he was hiding on until he could peek over it. He was just in time to see a small she-elf walking in the opposite direction, closely followed by a dire wolf. ::By the shape of mud, look at the size of that thing!:: He thought before turning his attention to the loud one.
He had been chasing Koe for so long. This was to be his 24th consecutive year of hunting him.
He was a tall man, closer to seventeen hands than sixteen. The years had robbed the mans hair of its color, leaving it a mildewy gray with tiny spots of black where once a lush dark brown had been. His face was leathery and sun beaten, his freckles all but lost. He wore a brigantine, but the years had rusted the iron studs, and the leather had holes all throughout it. At his hip was a sheath of a red lacquered wood. In his hands was a longsword, polished to a shine, and covered in runes.
Koe had to look away. His eyes hurt. ::Silver. Damnit Algin, what are you doing?:: After enough time had passed for the pain to subside, Koe refocused on the graying man. ::Time has been cruel to you, old friend.::
He was Koe's friend. At least to Koe. When Algin had been a young boy he had chanced upon Koe in the form of a bear. Algin had barely seen two winters, he was barely more than a bite...
Koe allowed himself to remember the moment. The squeal of delight as the little boy ran right up to him and starting running his hands through is fur. He had no fear. Only innocence. He had stood up on his hind legs and with a bellowing roar from the belly of his stomach he began to... Dance. He had danced the Lily dance in the form of a bear for the brave child.
That little boy had followed Koe around after that for six days. Koe had changed his form twice in front of the boy, once when he tried to hide from him, and then again when he realized the boy would die if he did not intervene. He had decided to take the boy to the nearest man-village, and after six days he accomplished his task. He would never forget those sad brown eyes when he sat Algin upon the plank roof of the guard house. He had thought then that he would never know the little boys name, that this would be the last time he would see him.
In many ways, he was right.
That little boy was gone now. The years had not been nice to Algin Cutter. As soon as the boy could talk he began telling stories of the dancing bear. Ridicule soon followed. As a social malcontent, he had grown up fighting enemies everywhere. On his last name day he had proclaimed himself a hunter and had taken to the woods in search of the dancing bear. After 30 days of nothing, Algin returned to the village empty handed and starved. | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | The tavern was alight with candles and warm fires, the smell of meats and bread wafted through to the rafters of wood and plaster. Ale stained the floor in places and the barkeep had been working on a single mug for a startling amount of time. All and all a lively place to be on this evening.
"Ah and a fine night to you as well gentlemen! Merry blessings!" The rogue said, as the men who joined him for cards departed a few coins heavier then they were at start.
"Is this not grand fellows?" The elf turned to his crew. "Ale in the air! A tavern filled with beautiful women! And my closest friends in the world." He stood then, a leg up on the top of the table, his back leg supporting him from the ground
"Ladies! Gentlemen!" He yelled, "Tonight, join me in toast to this merry band of fighters, lovers and the heroes of this town! We are all thankful," he stopped to smile at his friends, the ale tinting his checks red "but I am thankful, for they are the truest of my friends" and with that he drank. The here-heres rose in strength from the crowd, and he was jostled away by the crowd with promises to be back later.
The dwarf, gnome and orc all sat in silence, looking at their drinks solemnly.
The dwarf sighed, pinching the top of his nose,
The orc had his head in his hands looking off into nothingness,
Finally the gnome chimed in, quietly, but with a resolute tone
"Okay, I'll say it. He's a much better companion then Roderick and we should do everything in our earthly powers not to mess this up."
The orc and dwarf both sighed in unanimous relief
The orc chimed in first with a hushed tone and feeling in his voice "Its like he knew what a whoreson Roderick was!" He said, sitting at attention once again " its like he knew and said to himself 'oh! These chaps look like they could use a new, better companion!' Then took it upon himself, through all the peril, to join us in disguise! All while throwing Roderick into god knows where!" He laughed. "The monster was OUR hero!"
The dwarf was next, wide eyed and hands extended to point out "Roderick" in the crowd. " look at that bloody rogue, he blends right in, they would never know they're holding possibly one of the most dangerous monsters in the land" he lowered his hands, then pointed out, " for all that, doesn't that also make him a better rogue?" They all agreed quietly.
The orc chimed in once more, tentatively, " look Roderick is a whoreson who would and almost did murder us for a small some of coin, twice." They all agreed muttering comments under their breath, " but were the you know...good guys... shouldn't we at least try to save him?"
The others were about to reluctantly agree when "Roderick" appeared before them once again
"My friends! this is as much your victory as mine! More so! Come join us, the mayor seems keen on raising our rewards! I thought it only fitting you be by my... Nay, I be by your sides during this!" He smiled warmly.
They looked at each other, shrugged and smiled
"No that's fine, we can be knaves for a night." The gnome said, stepping up from his seat. | Koe was lizard. He must remember that. IF he were to forget, he would lose his form, and without his form he was vulnerable. Vulnerability was death. Death was the end. Koe did not want to end, he would rather be a lizard.
"Silent you filthy slatten!" A deep voice boomed on the other side of the tree Koe was hiding on. "The shapeshifter is here somewhere, I know it! Now take your bloody bitch and go! FIND IT!" The voice boomed again. There was a soft grunt of confirmation, and then all Koe could hear was the sound of someone and some... thing... moving away.
Koe scrambled around the trunk of the branch he was hiding on until he could peek over it. He was just in time to see a small she-elf walking in the opposite direction, closely followed by a dire wolf. ::By the shape of mud, look at the size of that thing!:: He thought before turning his attention to the loud one.
He had been chasing Koe for so long. This was to be his 24th consecutive year of hunting him.
He was a tall man, closer to seventeen hands than sixteen. The years had robbed the mans hair of its color, leaving it a mildewy gray with tiny spots of black where once a lush dark brown had been. His face was leathery and sun beaten, his freckles all but lost. He wore a brigantine, but the years had rusted the iron studs, and the leather had holes all throughout it. At his hip was a sheath of a red lacquered wood. In his hands was a longsword, polished to a shine, and covered in runes.
Koe had to look away. His eyes hurt. ::Silver. Damnit Algin, what are you doing?:: After enough time had passed for the pain to subside, Koe refocused on the graying man. ::Time has been cruel to you, old friend.::
He was Koe's friend. At least to Koe. When Algin had been a young boy he had chanced upon Koe in the form of a bear. Algin had barely seen two winters, he was barely more than a bite...
Koe allowed himself to remember the moment. The squeal of delight as the little boy ran right up to him and starting running his hands through is fur. He had no fear. Only innocence. He had stood up on his hind legs and with a bellowing roar from the belly of his stomach he began to... Dance. He had danced the Lily dance in the form of a bear for the brave child.
That little boy had followed Koe around after that for six days. Koe had changed his form twice in front of the boy, once when he tried to hide from him, and then again when he realized the boy would die if he did not intervene. He had decided to take the boy to the nearest man-village, and after six days he accomplished his task. He would never forget those sad brown eyes when he sat Algin upon the plank roof of the guard house. He had thought then that he would never know the little boys name, that this would be the last time he would see him.
In many ways, he was right.
That little boy was gone now. The years had not been nice to Algin Cutter. As soon as the boy could talk he began telling stories of the dancing bear. Ridicule soon followed. As a social malcontent, he had grown up fighting enemies everywhere. On his last name day he had proclaimed himself a hunter and had taken to the woods in search of the dancing bear. After 30 days of nothing, Algin returned to the village empty handed and starved. | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | "Guys, I think those holes might be for arrows or something. We had better check if this hallway is trapped!" warned Danny.
The party stopped, and Julie, an experienced rogue, did a check for traps. Sure enough, she found one, though curiously it was already disarmed.
Veronica explained, "It looks like someone has already blocked the mechanism with a rock. It should be safe to head down the passageway."
"Wait, before we go on, I need a quick break to use the loo." Danny looked abashed.
That brought some sighs from the group. "Couldn't you have done that a few minutes ago, before we entered the dungeon?" asked Veronica.
"Sorry everyone," replied Danny, "I drank too much water earlier." And off he went in search of some relief.
With Danny gone, the party had a moment to talk to themselves.
"He's really been such a better husband and father since....", Veronica trailed off.
"Yes, we've noticed lots of positive changes," replied Jim.
"He's making so much more time for the children. He's being so much more responsible in every way."
"You yourself seem happier these days", remarked Julie. "Have you decided to let on that you know?"
"No, I'm worried it...he... might decide to stop pretending. Our love-life has gotten incredible, and he is so much more into the role playing aspects I enjoy." For a moment her conflicting emotions filled her face. "He is my husband, even if he isn't the man I married anymore."
"We're here for you. We'll keep it quiet." Julie gave her hand a squeeze. "Oh, I think he's coming back."
Danny walked in, and rejoined the party. "Lets go kick some goblin butt!" He picked up the dice, and turned and look at his wife with a smile. "Ok DM, what do you think I need to roll to get a pizza delivered while we finish our game?" | Koe was lizard. He must remember that. IF he were to forget, he would lose his form, and without his form he was vulnerable. Vulnerability was death. Death was the end. Koe did not want to end, he would rather be a lizard.
"Silent you filthy slatten!" A deep voice boomed on the other side of the tree Koe was hiding on. "The shapeshifter is here somewhere, I know it! Now take your bloody bitch and go! FIND IT!" The voice boomed again. There was a soft grunt of confirmation, and then all Koe could hear was the sound of someone and some... thing... moving away.
Koe scrambled around the trunk of the branch he was hiding on until he could peek over it. He was just in time to see a small she-elf walking in the opposite direction, closely followed by a dire wolf. ::By the shape of mud, look at the size of that thing!:: He thought before turning his attention to the loud one.
He had been chasing Koe for so long. This was to be his 24th consecutive year of hunting him.
He was a tall man, closer to seventeen hands than sixteen. The years had robbed the mans hair of its color, leaving it a mildewy gray with tiny spots of black where once a lush dark brown had been. His face was leathery and sun beaten, his freckles all but lost. He wore a brigantine, but the years had rusted the iron studs, and the leather had holes all throughout it. At his hip was a sheath of a red lacquered wood. In his hands was a longsword, polished to a shine, and covered in runes.
Koe had to look away. His eyes hurt. ::Silver. Damnit Algin, what are you doing?:: After enough time had passed for the pain to subside, Koe refocused on the graying man. ::Time has been cruel to you, old friend.::
He was Koe's friend. At least to Koe. When Algin had been a young boy he had chanced upon Koe in the form of a bear. Algin had barely seen two winters, he was barely more than a bite...
Koe allowed himself to remember the moment. The squeal of delight as the little boy ran right up to him and starting running his hands through is fur. He had no fear. Only innocence. He had stood up on his hind legs and with a bellowing roar from the belly of his stomach he began to... Dance. He had danced the Lily dance in the form of a bear for the brave child.
That little boy had followed Koe around after that for six days. Koe had changed his form twice in front of the boy, once when he tried to hide from him, and then again when he realized the boy would die if he did not intervene. He had decided to take the boy to the nearest man-village, and after six days he accomplished his task. He would never forget those sad brown eyes when he sat Algin upon the plank roof of the guard house. He had thought then that he would never know the little boys name, that this would be the last time he would see him.
In many ways, he was right.
That little boy was gone now. The years had not been nice to Algin Cutter. As soon as the boy could talk he began telling stories of the dancing bear. Ridicule soon followed. As a social malcontent, he had grown up fighting enemies everywhere. On his last name day he had proclaimed himself a hunter and had taken to the woods in search of the dancing bear. After 30 days of nothing, Algin returned to the village empty handed and starved. | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | "GREETINGS FELLOW ADVENTURING HUMANS!" Boomed the voice of Danny the Elf sat bolt upright from the sleeping cloth sack she had been in, causing Bob the Barbarian to grunt and curl up under his animal hide sleeping rug again.
"IT IS I, YOUR GOOD FRIEND DAN, I AM UNHARMED AFTER MY ENCOUNTER WITH THE DAEMON!" She continued smiling oddly, her mouth breaking into a wide grin with teeth and her eyebrows actually elevating.
"Dann...." Feldspar the half-elf warlock managed to stop himself from saying Danny, "You told us this before, remember?"
Danny the Elf blinked, everything was always so terribly confusing, having come from a dimension that didn't have time it had to learn about things happening and things that had happened, Makor the Cleric had helped with that, teaching the snow elf about how things happen and can't be changed but things that haven't happened yet can be altered.
"OH YES FRIEND!" Danny laughed as if it was a running joke, Sim the halfling thief/bard laughed a little as well in sympathy or perhaps enjoyment.
"WHERE ARE WE GOING TODAY? WILL THERE BE MORE EXCELLENT FERMENTED YEAST PRODUCTS TO CONSUME?"
Makor nodded slowly, "That's right Dan, more beer at the end of the adventure, now how did we get back the entrance avoiding the dragon, getting the treasure and nobody getting hurt?"
"OF COURSE FRIEND! THIS IS A THING THAT HAPPENED ALREADY AFTER ALL!" Danny confirmed with the group as each of them nodded in agreement pressing in to listen carefully to Danny.
"FIRSTLY, WE LEFT THE ROOM BY THE SOUTH ENTRANCE, SIM DISABLED THE PIT TRAP AFTER FALLING INTO IT AND DYING THE FIRST TIME HE TRIED." Danny started to explain.
Sim frowned a little looking towards the South entrance, he'd died; again, if 'Dan' hadn't told him about the pit trap or the acid or the undercooked chicken or ... he was incredibly glad that 'Dan' had changed so dramatically since that encounter with the demon.
"THE TREASURE IS MOSTLY CURSED AND FELDSPAR CHANGED INTO A SHEEP WHEN HE PICKED UP A STAFF THEN A STATUE AS HE TOUCHED THE CURSED DIAMOND AS LARGE AS HIS FIST AND THEN WAS KILLED AS HE PICKED UP A CROWN." Danny continued as Feldspar took careful notes, the warlock couldn't remember the last time he'd bothered to cast identification or detect item status.
Feldspar liked whatever was living inside Danny, even when the party wasn't using it as a cheap way to complete adventures the Elf was nicer, kinder and fun to listen to, with her soft voice always shouting it was hard not to giggle at her.
"THEN AS WE LEAVE THE REAL MAKOR ATTACKS THE FAKE ONE CURRENTLY TRAVELLING WITH US AND IS EASILY DEFEATED." Danny concluded smiling proudly.
Makor looked around the group as for a moment he was sure that his plan had been ruined, they must know, it was just said aloud.
Sim however was fiddling with his lock picks, clearly fully distracted, Feldspar was already in a meditative trance memorising spells.
Bob smiled widely at Makor and Danny before speaking in his native tongue, "What did she say then? Sounded like bad news for you, Feldspar and Sim..."
Makor nodded with a rush of relief as Bob wondered how many more times he could possibly pass that particular lie your face off check. | Koe was lizard. He must remember that. IF he were to forget, he would lose his form, and without his form he was vulnerable. Vulnerability was death. Death was the end. Koe did not want to end, he would rather be a lizard.
"Silent you filthy slatten!" A deep voice boomed on the other side of the tree Koe was hiding on. "The shapeshifter is here somewhere, I know it! Now take your bloody bitch and go! FIND IT!" The voice boomed again. There was a soft grunt of confirmation, and then all Koe could hear was the sound of someone and some... thing... moving away.
Koe scrambled around the trunk of the branch he was hiding on until he could peek over it. He was just in time to see a small she-elf walking in the opposite direction, closely followed by a dire wolf. ::By the shape of mud, look at the size of that thing!:: He thought before turning his attention to the loud one.
He had been chasing Koe for so long. This was to be his 24th consecutive year of hunting him.
He was a tall man, closer to seventeen hands than sixteen. The years had robbed the mans hair of its color, leaving it a mildewy gray with tiny spots of black where once a lush dark brown had been. His face was leathery and sun beaten, his freckles all but lost. He wore a brigantine, but the years had rusted the iron studs, and the leather had holes all throughout it. At his hip was a sheath of a red lacquered wood. In his hands was a longsword, polished to a shine, and covered in runes.
Koe had to look away. His eyes hurt. ::Silver. Damnit Algin, what are you doing?:: After enough time had passed for the pain to subside, Koe refocused on the graying man. ::Time has been cruel to you, old friend.::
He was Koe's friend. At least to Koe. When Algin had been a young boy he had chanced upon Koe in the form of a bear. Algin had barely seen two winters, he was barely more than a bite...
Koe allowed himself to remember the moment. The squeal of delight as the little boy ran right up to him and starting running his hands through is fur. He had no fear. Only innocence. He had stood up on his hind legs and with a bellowing roar from the belly of his stomach he began to... Dance. He had danced the Lily dance in the form of a bear for the brave child.
That little boy had followed Koe around after that for six days. Koe had changed his form twice in front of the boy, once when he tried to hide from him, and then again when he realized the boy would die if he did not intervene. He had decided to take the boy to the nearest man-village, and after six days he accomplished his task. He would never forget those sad brown eyes when he sat Algin upon the plank roof of the guard house. He had thought then that he would never know the little boys name, that this would be the last time he would see him.
In many ways, he was right.
That little boy was gone now. The years had not been nice to Algin Cutter. As soon as the boy could talk he began telling stories of the dancing bear. Ridicule soon followed. As a social malcontent, he had grown up fighting enemies everywhere. On his last name day he had proclaimed himself a hunter and had taken to the woods in search of the dancing bear. After 30 days of nothing, Algin returned to the village empty handed and starved. | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | "GREETINGS FELLOW ADVENTURING HUMANS!" Boomed the voice of Danny the Elf sat bolt upright from the sleeping cloth sack she had been in, causing Bob the Barbarian to grunt and curl up under his animal hide sleeping rug again.
"IT IS I, YOUR GOOD FRIEND DAN, I AM UNHARMED AFTER MY ENCOUNTER WITH THE DAEMON!" She continued smiling oddly, her mouth breaking into a wide grin with teeth and her eyebrows actually elevating.
"Dann...." Feldspar the half-elf warlock managed to stop himself from saying Danny, "You told us this before, remember?"
Danny the Elf blinked, everything was always so terribly confusing, having come from a dimension that didn't have time it had to learn about things happening and things that had happened, Makor the Cleric had helped with that, teaching the snow elf about how things happen and can't be changed but things that haven't happened yet can be altered.
"OH YES FRIEND!" Danny laughed as if it was a running joke, Sim the halfling thief/bard laughed a little as well in sympathy or perhaps enjoyment.
"WHERE ARE WE GOING TODAY? WILL THERE BE MORE EXCELLENT FERMENTED YEAST PRODUCTS TO CONSUME?"
Makor nodded slowly, "That's right Dan, more beer at the end of the adventure, now how did we get back the entrance avoiding the dragon, getting the treasure and nobody getting hurt?"
"OF COURSE FRIEND! THIS IS A THING THAT HAPPENED ALREADY AFTER ALL!" Danny confirmed with the group as each of them nodded in agreement pressing in to listen carefully to Danny.
"FIRSTLY, WE LEFT THE ROOM BY THE SOUTH ENTRANCE, SIM DISABLED THE PIT TRAP AFTER FALLING INTO IT AND DYING THE FIRST TIME HE TRIED." Danny started to explain.
Sim frowned a little looking towards the South entrance, he'd died; again, if 'Dan' hadn't told him about the pit trap or the acid or the undercooked chicken or ... he was incredibly glad that 'Dan' had changed so dramatically since that encounter with the demon.
"THE TREASURE IS MOSTLY CURSED AND FELDSPAR CHANGED INTO A SHEEP WHEN HE PICKED UP A STAFF THEN A STATUE AS HE TOUCHED THE CURSED DIAMOND AS LARGE AS HIS FIST AND THEN WAS KILLED AS HE PICKED UP A CROWN." Danny continued as Feldspar took careful notes, the warlock couldn't remember the last time he'd bothered to cast identification or detect item status.
Feldspar liked whatever was living inside Danny, even when the party wasn't using it as a cheap way to complete adventures the Elf was nicer, kinder and fun to listen to, with her soft voice always shouting it was hard not to giggle at her.
"THEN AS WE LEAVE THE REAL MAKOR ATTACKS THE FAKE ONE CURRENTLY TRAVELLING WITH US AND IS EASILY DEFEATED." Danny concluded smiling proudly.
Makor looked around the group as for a moment he was sure that his plan had been ruined, they must know, it was just said aloud.
Sim however was fiddling with his lock picks, clearly fully distracted, Feldspar was already in a meditative trance memorising spells.
Bob smiled widely at Makor and Danny before speaking in his native tongue, "What did she say then? Sounded like bad news for you, Feldspar and Sim..."
Makor nodded with a rush of relief as Bob wondered how many more times he could possibly pass that particular lie your face off check. | Koe was lizard. He must remember that. IF he were to forget, he would lose his form, and without his form he was vulnerable. Vulnerability was death. Death was the end. Koe did not want to end, he would rather be a lizard.
"Silent you filthy slatten!" A deep voice boomed on the other side of the tree Koe was hiding on. "The shapeshifter is here somewhere, I know it! Now take your bloody bitch and go! FIND IT!" The voice boomed again. There was a soft grunt of confirmation, and then all Koe could hear was the sound of someone and some... thing... moving away.
Koe scrambled around the trunk of the branch he was hiding on until he could peek over it. He was just in time to see a small she-elf walking in the opposite direction, closely followed by a dire wolf. ::By the shape of mud, look at the size of that thing!:: He thought before turning his attention to the loud one.
He had been chasing Koe for so long. This was to be his 24th consecutive year of hunting him.
He was a tall man, closer to seventeen hands than sixteen. The years had robbed the mans hair of its color, leaving it a mildewy gray with tiny spots of black where once a lush dark brown had been. His face was leathery and sun beaten, his freckles all but lost. He wore a brigantine, but the years had rusted the iron studs, and the leather had holes all throughout it. At his hip was a sheath of a red lacquered wood. In his hands was a longsword, polished to a shine, and covered in runes.
Koe had to look away. His eyes hurt. ::Silver. Damnit Algin, what are you doing?:: After enough time had passed for the pain to subside, Koe refocused on the graying man. ::Time has been cruel to you, old friend.::
He was Koe's friend. At least to Koe. When Algin had been a young boy he had chanced upon Koe in the form of a bear. Algin had barely seen two winters, he was barely more than a bite...
Koe allowed himself to remember the moment. The squeal of delight as the little boy ran right up to him and starting running his hands through is fur. He had no fear. Only innocence. He had stood up on his hind legs and with a bellowing roar from the belly of his stomach he began to... Dance. He had danced the Lily dance in the form of a bear for the brave child.
That little boy had followed Koe around after that for six days. Koe had changed his form twice in front of the boy, once when he tried to hide from him, and then again when he realized the boy would die if he did not intervene. He had decided to take the boy to the nearest man-village, and after six days he accomplished his task. He would never forget those sad brown eyes when he sat Algin upon the plank roof of the guard house. He had thought then that he would never know the little boys name, that this would be the last time he would see him.
In many ways, he was right.
That little boy was gone now. The years had not been nice to Algin Cutter. As soon as the boy could talk he began telling stories of the dancing bear. Ridicule soon followed. As a social malcontent, he had grown up fighting enemies everywhere. On his last name day he had proclaimed himself a hunter and had taken to the woods in search of the dancing bear. After 30 days of nothing, Algin returned to the village empty handed and starved. | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | Theldon – or at least the creature that was wearing his face – looked pale in the light of the campfire. As the wood crackled and burned, he chewed his lower lip, gathering his courage to speak.
“Guys … I … I have something to tell you,” he managed.
His three traveling companions looked at him. Vanariel snapped her spellbook shut and drew her staff. “What is it? An ambush? I told you guys I saw goblin-sign back there!”
“No, no! Not goblins!” Theldon said, holding his hands out. “It’s … it’s about me.”
Shiny Pete smirked. “What? You got the whore’s itch or something? Nothing to be ashamed of, buddy. Happened to us all once or twice.”
Dagmar glowered at the rogue from under bushy eyebrows. “Or mayhap a good number of times more than that.”
“No! It's not a disease either! It’s just …” Theldon took a deep breath. “Guys … I’m … I’m a doppelganger."
The three of them shared a long look, and then Vanariel and Shiny Pete burst out laughing. Dagmar’s glower deepened. “That’s no’ funny, lad,” he growled.
Vanariel and Shiny Pete stopped laughing. “Wait, wait,” the rogue said, “Dagmar, you didn’t *know?*”
Theldon looked shocked. “Wait, you guys *knew?*”
The elven woman tittered. “You’re not the shapeshifter you think you are. The real Theldon was an asshole.”
“Total dickwad,” Shiny Pete agreed. “In, like, every conceivable way.”
Dagmar leapt to his feet, drawing his axe. “You mean this is no’ a joke?” he roared, advancing on Theldon. “Die, fiend!”
As one, Vanariel and Shiny Pete placed themselves between the enraged dwarf and the doppleganger. “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Shiny Pete yelled. “This might not be the original Theldon, but he’s been with us for almost a year now. He was the guy who stood over you after you got paralyzed by a ghoul.”
“He took point when we fought that dragon,” Vanariel continued.
“Hell, he got in the face of evil sorcerer while you were busy chopping up his henchmen,” Shiny Pete added.
“Those henchmen represented a serious threat!” Dagmar retorted, “And it was no' like it was a full-grown dragon. Only a wee one!”
In unison, Valariel and Shiny Pete rolled their eyes. Dagmar glowered some more. He was good at it, and he liked to play to his strengths. At last the dwarf made a humphing noise and lowered his axe. Valariel sat down and opened her spellbook again. “Okay, that’s over right? We can get back to the adventuring?”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Pete said. Dagmar only grunted.
“Did you guys really know?” Theldon asked, still somewhat wary of the dwarf.
“Oh, yeah. I mean, it was kind of suspicious how he was dying of jungle rot one day and completely fine the next. But you’re really not much like the original Theldon at all. First of all, you’re actually useful in combat. And second of all, you’re a decent guy. I mean, I can have an ale with you and not worry that you’re going to stiff me on the check,” Pete said.
“Or stare at my tits while I’m trancing. Or grab my ass when I’m trying to brew potions,” Vanariel added. “And the ear jokes. Ugh, the original Theldon was such a creep. Why did we even keep him around?”
"Good question," Pete said. "I mean, I asked myself that a bunch of times after we got new Theldon. 'Why did we even keep that tool around in the first place?'"
“So you guys don’t even care that I’m a shapeshifter?”
“Not really, no,” Pete said. “I worked with lots of different people when I was in the Thieves’ Guild. Changelings weren’t any more likely to try killing me in my sleep than humans or half-elves. In my experience, everyone’s pretty human when you get down to it.”
“Hey! Speak for yourself, round-ears,” Vanariel said with half of a smile. “But nevertheless, I agree with the sentiment.”
“Oh,” Theldon said. He sat in own thoughts for a moment. “Thanks, guys. That means a lot to me.”
“Don’t mention it,” Pete said, and Vanariel nodded in agreement.
The evening passed in silence. Shiny Pete honed his daggers, and Vanariel memorized her spells. Dagmar and Theldon each sat in silence, alone with his thoughts.
At last the dwarf spoke. “Lad,” he asked the doppleganger, “have you ever tried maybe not being a shapeshifter?”
| Koe was lizard. He must remember that. IF he were to forget, he would lose his form, and without his form he was vulnerable. Vulnerability was death. Death was the end. Koe did not want to end, he would rather be a lizard.
"Silent you filthy slatten!" A deep voice boomed on the other side of the tree Koe was hiding on. "The shapeshifter is here somewhere, I know it! Now take your bloody bitch and go! FIND IT!" The voice boomed again. There was a soft grunt of confirmation, and then all Koe could hear was the sound of someone and some... thing... moving away.
Koe scrambled around the trunk of the branch he was hiding on until he could peek over it. He was just in time to see a small she-elf walking in the opposite direction, closely followed by a dire wolf. ::By the shape of mud, look at the size of that thing!:: He thought before turning his attention to the loud one.
He had been chasing Koe for so long. This was to be his 24th consecutive year of hunting him.
He was a tall man, closer to seventeen hands than sixteen. The years had robbed the mans hair of its color, leaving it a mildewy gray with tiny spots of black where once a lush dark brown had been. His face was leathery and sun beaten, his freckles all but lost. He wore a brigantine, but the years had rusted the iron studs, and the leather had holes all throughout it. At his hip was a sheath of a red lacquered wood. In his hands was a longsword, polished to a shine, and covered in runes.
Koe had to look away. His eyes hurt. ::Silver. Damnit Algin, what are you doing?:: After enough time had passed for the pain to subside, Koe refocused on the graying man. ::Time has been cruel to you, old friend.::
He was Koe's friend. At least to Koe. When Algin had been a young boy he had chanced upon Koe in the form of a bear. Algin had barely seen two winters, he was barely more than a bite...
Koe allowed himself to remember the moment. The squeal of delight as the little boy ran right up to him and starting running his hands through is fur. He had no fear. Only innocence. He had stood up on his hind legs and with a bellowing roar from the belly of his stomach he began to... Dance. He had danced the Lily dance in the form of a bear for the brave child.
That little boy had followed Koe around after that for six days. Koe had changed his form twice in front of the boy, once when he tried to hide from him, and then again when he realized the boy would die if he did not intervene. He had decided to take the boy to the nearest man-village, and after six days he accomplished his task. He would never forget those sad brown eyes when he sat Algin upon the plank roof of the guard house. He had thought then that he would never know the little boys name, that this would be the last time he would see him.
In many ways, he was right.
That little boy was gone now. The years had not been nice to Algin Cutter. As soon as the boy could talk he began telling stories of the dancing bear. Ridicule soon followed. As a social malcontent, he had grown up fighting enemies everywhere. On his last name day he had proclaimed himself a hunter and had taken to the woods in search of the dancing bear. After 30 days of nothing, Algin returned to the village empty handed and starved. | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | Theldon – or at least the creature that was wearing his face – looked pale in the light of the campfire. As the wood crackled and burned, he chewed his lower lip, gathering his courage to speak.
“Guys … I … I have something to tell you,” he managed.
His three traveling companions looked at him. Vanariel snapped her spellbook shut and drew her staff. “What is it? An ambush? I told you guys I saw goblin-sign back there!”
“No, no! Not goblins!” Theldon said, holding his hands out. “It’s … it’s about me.”
Shiny Pete smirked. “What? You got the whore’s itch or something? Nothing to be ashamed of, buddy. Happened to us all once or twice.”
Dagmar glowered at the rogue from under bushy eyebrows. “Or mayhap a good number of times more than that.”
“No! It's not a disease either! It’s just …” Theldon took a deep breath. “Guys … I’m … I’m a doppelganger."
The three of them shared a long look, and then Vanariel and Shiny Pete burst out laughing. Dagmar’s glower deepened. “That’s no’ funny, lad,” he growled.
Vanariel and Shiny Pete stopped laughing. “Wait, wait,” the rogue said, “Dagmar, you didn’t *know?*”
Theldon looked shocked. “Wait, you guys *knew?*”
The elven woman tittered. “You’re not the shapeshifter you think you are. The real Theldon was an asshole.”
“Total dickwad,” Shiny Pete agreed. “In, like, every conceivable way.”
Dagmar leapt to his feet, drawing his axe. “You mean this is no’ a joke?” he roared, advancing on Theldon. “Die, fiend!”
As one, Vanariel and Shiny Pete placed themselves between the enraged dwarf and the doppleganger. “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Shiny Pete yelled. “This might not be the original Theldon, but he’s been with us for almost a year now. He was the guy who stood over you after you got paralyzed by a ghoul.”
“He took point when we fought that dragon,” Vanariel continued.
“Hell, he got in the face of evil sorcerer while you were busy chopping up his henchmen,” Shiny Pete added.
“Those henchmen represented a serious threat!” Dagmar retorted, “And it was no' like it was a full-grown dragon. Only a wee one!”
In unison, Valariel and Shiny Pete rolled their eyes. Dagmar glowered some more. He was good at it, and he liked to play to his strengths. At last the dwarf made a humphing noise and lowered his axe. Valariel sat down and opened her spellbook again. “Okay, that’s over right? We can get back to the adventuring?”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Pete said. Dagmar only grunted.
“Did you guys really know?” Theldon asked, still somewhat wary of the dwarf.
“Oh, yeah. I mean, it was kind of suspicious how he was dying of jungle rot one day and completely fine the next. But you’re really not much like the original Theldon at all. First of all, you’re actually useful in combat. And second of all, you’re a decent guy. I mean, I can have an ale with you and not worry that you’re going to stiff me on the check,” Pete said.
“Or stare at my tits while I’m trancing. Or grab my ass when I’m trying to brew potions,” Vanariel added. “And the ear jokes. Ugh, the original Theldon was such a creep. Why did we even keep him around?”
"Good question," Pete said. "I mean, I asked myself that a bunch of times after we got new Theldon. 'Why did we even keep that tool around in the first place?'"
“So you guys don’t even care that I’m a shapeshifter?”
“Not really, no,” Pete said. “I worked with lots of different people when I was in the Thieves’ Guild. Changelings weren’t any more likely to try killing me in my sleep than humans or half-elves. In my experience, everyone’s pretty human when you get down to it.”
“Hey! Speak for yourself, round-ears,” Vanariel said with half of a smile. “But nevertheless, I agree with the sentiment.”
“Oh,” Theldon said. He sat in own thoughts for a moment. “Thanks, guys. That means a lot to me.”
“Don’t mention it,” Pete said, and Vanariel nodded in agreement.
The evening passed in silence. Shiny Pete honed his daggers, and Vanariel memorized her spells. Dagmar and Theldon each sat in silence, alone with his thoughts.
At last the dwarf spoke. “Lad,” he asked the doppleganger, “have you ever tried maybe not being a shapeshifter?”
| Koe was lizard. He must remember that. IF he were to forget, he would lose his form, and without his form he was vulnerable. Vulnerability was death. Death was the end. Koe did not want to end, he would rather be a lizard.
"Silent you filthy slatten!" A deep voice boomed on the other side of the tree Koe was hiding on. "The shapeshifter is here somewhere, I know it! Now take your bloody bitch and go! FIND IT!" The voice boomed again. There was a soft grunt of confirmation, and then all Koe could hear was the sound of someone and some... thing... moving away.
Koe scrambled around the trunk of the branch he was hiding on until he could peek over it. He was just in time to see a small she-elf walking in the opposite direction, closely followed by a dire wolf. ::By the shape of mud, look at the size of that thing!:: He thought before turning his attention to the loud one.
He had been chasing Koe for so long. This was to be his 24th consecutive year of hunting him.
He was a tall man, closer to seventeen hands than sixteen. The years had robbed the mans hair of its color, leaving it a mildewy gray with tiny spots of black where once a lush dark brown had been. His face was leathery and sun beaten, his freckles all but lost. He wore a brigantine, but the years had rusted the iron studs, and the leather had holes all throughout it. At his hip was a sheath of a red lacquered wood. In his hands was a longsword, polished to a shine, and covered in runes.
Koe had to look away. His eyes hurt. ::Silver. Damnit Algin, what are you doing?:: After enough time had passed for the pain to subside, Koe refocused on the graying man. ::Time has been cruel to you, old friend.::
He was Koe's friend. At least to Koe. When Algin had been a young boy he had chanced upon Koe in the form of a bear. Algin had barely seen two winters, he was barely more than a bite...
Koe allowed himself to remember the moment. The squeal of delight as the little boy ran right up to him and starting running his hands through is fur. He had no fear. Only innocence. He had stood up on his hind legs and with a bellowing roar from the belly of his stomach he began to... Dance. He had danced the Lily dance in the form of a bear for the brave child.
That little boy had followed Koe around after that for six days. Koe had changed his form twice in front of the boy, once when he tried to hide from him, and then again when he realized the boy would die if he did not intervene. He had decided to take the boy to the nearest man-village, and after six days he accomplished his task. He would never forget those sad brown eyes when he sat Algin upon the plank roof of the guard house. He had thought then that he would never know the little boys name, that this would be the last time he would see him.
In many ways, he was right.
That little boy was gone now. The years had not been nice to Algin Cutter. As soon as the boy could talk he began telling stories of the dancing bear. Ridicule soon followed. As a social malcontent, he had grown up fighting enemies everywhere. On his last name day he had proclaimed himself a hunter and had taken to the woods in search of the dancing bear. After 30 days of nothing, Algin returned to the village empty handed and starved. | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | Approaching the city gate, the adventurers stiffen as the guards halt their way. Of course, Mr. Nobility has to be the one to step forward and speak for the group. Marian lightly touches her bow, prepared to ready an arrow if her arrogant companion gets them into trouble again.
"Greetings, my good men. My name is Hector of the house Rellon. Do you happen to have any directions for a band of weary travelers? We seek no conflict, only a comfortable place to rest for the night."
Sora and Fiera share a look. The last time they entered a new city, he tried to march right past the guards, drawing his sword when they stopped him. They had to find accommodations in a dingy little inn outside the city gates, where the other patrons all gave the distinct impression of being criminals.
Now, though, one guard obligingly gave them directions, and Hector... Hector actually thanked him, and clapped his back like they were old friends. The guard laughed cheerfully and sent them on their way. This was wrong. Hector didn't have friends. He didn't make friends. The only reason his companions hadn't booted him was his skill in combat, which had just barely saved them from more problems than his personality had gotten them into.
That night, as Hector remained in the common room to buy another round for the crowd... an unusual act of generosity... the others gathered in the private room they'd booked.
"Do you remember earlier today, when he left to investigate that noise in the trees?" Asked Sora.
Marian nodded. "But there was nothing there."
"I know," said Sora, "But what if he lied?"
"You think he could be under someone's control?" Fiera chimed in. "I could dispel any magic that might be around him."
Sora shook his head. "I don't think it's control. He hasn't hurt us or been irrational. He's just... *different*. I think he's been replaced."
"That's pretty far-fetched." Marian's voice was skeptical.
"It's happened before," said Sora. "Not all shapeshifters are evil. Some of them just want a safe group to live among. A family. Like what we are to Hector, even though he's an asshole who doesn't deserve us."
Fiera narrowed her eyes. "How do you know so much about shapeshifters?"
Sora sighed. It was time to come clean. "Because I'm one of them. You guys didn't know the real Sora. He tried to raid my nest. Would have gotten a good part of my family killed, as well as his whole group, if I hadn't taken his place. Foolhardy bastard. His friends figured me out, though. I barely escaped, and by then I was used to this form."
"No." Fiera shook her head. "You can't just replace people. The real Hector..."
"The real Hector didn't give a toss about any of us," said Marian. "Do you really think he's worth our compassion? When was the last time he extended any to you?"
Fiera was quiet for a minute, remembering the time she'd broken a leg fighting a troll. And Hector elected to carry the troll's treasure chest out of the dungeon, leaving her to hobble after him using a giant club as a makeshift crutch. "I guess if this shapeshifter is anything like you, Sora, it's probably an improvement."
"I know I was," commented Marian. "My new parents must have known something was different, but the family got along so much better with me in her place that they never questioned it."
Fiera stood from her chair, backing toward the door. "Are you shapeshifters going to replace everybody?"
"No," said Sora and Marian simultaneously.
Sora continued. "You're a good person, Fiera. We only take the place of assholes. People whose absence would actually improve things. For everybody, not just those of us who can change our form. Trust me, Fiera." He smiled, the friendly expression that Fiera had come to find reassuring after the years they'd spent together. "You have nothing to worry about."
Edit: typo | Koe was lizard. He must remember that. IF he were to forget, he would lose his form, and without his form he was vulnerable. Vulnerability was death. Death was the end. Koe did not want to end, he would rather be a lizard.
"Silent you filthy slatten!" A deep voice boomed on the other side of the tree Koe was hiding on. "The shapeshifter is here somewhere, I know it! Now take your bloody bitch and go! FIND IT!" The voice boomed again. There was a soft grunt of confirmation, and then all Koe could hear was the sound of someone and some... thing... moving away.
Koe scrambled around the trunk of the branch he was hiding on until he could peek over it. He was just in time to see a small she-elf walking in the opposite direction, closely followed by a dire wolf. ::By the shape of mud, look at the size of that thing!:: He thought before turning his attention to the loud one.
He had been chasing Koe for so long. This was to be his 24th consecutive year of hunting him.
He was a tall man, closer to seventeen hands than sixteen. The years had robbed the mans hair of its color, leaving it a mildewy gray with tiny spots of black where once a lush dark brown had been. His face was leathery and sun beaten, his freckles all but lost. He wore a brigantine, but the years had rusted the iron studs, and the leather had holes all throughout it. At his hip was a sheath of a red lacquered wood. In his hands was a longsword, polished to a shine, and covered in runes.
Koe had to look away. His eyes hurt. ::Silver. Damnit Algin, what are you doing?:: After enough time had passed for the pain to subside, Koe refocused on the graying man. ::Time has been cruel to you, old friend.::
He was Koe's friend. At least to Koe. When Algin had been a young boy he had chanced upon Koe in the form of a bear. Algin had barely seen two winters, he was barely more than a bite...
Koe allowed himself to remember the moment. The squeal of delight as the little boy ran right up to him and starting running his hands through is fur. He had no fear. Only innocence. He had stood up on his hind legs and with a bellowing roar from the belly of his stomach he began to... Dance. He had danced the Lily dance in the form of a bear for the brave child.
That little boy had followed Koe around after that for six days. Koe had changed his form twice in front of the boy, once when he tried to hide from him, and then again when he realized the boy would die if he did not intervene. He had decided to take the boy to the nearest man-village, and after six days he accomplished his task. He would never forget those sad brown eyes when he sat Algin upon the plank roof of the guard house. He had thought then that he would never know the little boys name, that this would be the last time he would see him.
In many ways, he was right.
That little boy was gone now. The years had not been nice to Algin Cutter. As soon as the boy could talk he began telling stories of the dancing bear. Ridicule soon followed. As a social malcontent, he had grown up fighting enemies everywhere. On his last name day he had proclaimed himself a hunter and had taken to the woods in search of the dancing bear. After 30 days of nothing, Algin returned to the village empty handed and starved. | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | The miles between them had come and gone, leaving scars and wounds and memories and laughs. The horizon that day was clear, and the world fell into green and yellow, and far away were the mountains, and everything was cloaked in a dream. They had come far. The first peaks of Lankar shimmered in an ephemeral haze.
"We've made it," Keldar said.
"Not yet."
Annastatia was worn, cut and bruised. Her eyes had dimmed some, but even the terrors of the Void had receded for the moment. She was in the present then, looking ahead, same as them all.
None had seen the mountain before. Alton had not believed in it. Haldar had said they would die before they ever crossed the river.
Now he stared with timeless eyes, eyes which had seen things from the Darkness. Eyes which had seen the birth of his kin from the still mirror waters of the Endless Caves. Those eyes had seen more than Haldar could ever have imagined.
"I guess it does exist," Alton said.
He clapped Haldar on the back. An uneasy feeling overcame him with the touch.
*It feels like him,* he thought.
And his thought travelled in the wind of the Void, that invisible world which held all the unknown things, the things that caused madness.
"Yes," Annastatia said.
She looked at Haldar.
"What?" said Keldar.
She shook her head.
They were weary and made camp on the hill. For the days past they had slept during the day, marched in the night. Their bodies were worn and tired, a piece of them all left behind in the Grey River.
*The price was worth it,* Keldar thought.
He was an older man, a knight in youth, and now his world had gone and he was alone but for adventure.
*Is it?*
He could not answer himself and the question lingered, unanswered by even Annastatia. They were quiet there on the hill. Midday came with a scarce lunch and perfunctory talk.
"I've never been so far," said Alton.
They agreed. Home had sunk away like the dying sun, and this endless night of the unknown still had miles yet to go.
"We're alive though," Keldar said.
"Yes," Annastatia said.
They looked at Haldar. Behind those eyes were the midnight of malice. But that malice reflected the sun, and then it was blue and immediate and true.
"I made it," Haldar said. "Barely by the skin of my leather, but I made it."
In the Grey River there were ancient cliffs, hills and holes. There amidst that pocked earth lived the unknown things, the things which embraced the Darkness.
In that place Haldar had fallen into the murky waters of the Grey River and its currents had taken him.
His screams had pierced the Void then, echoing even on the hill they now camped on. Annastatia winced and she saw the time as it floated past in the forever winds of that realm.
"Help!" Haldar cried.
Her hand held her staff. Every inch of her was prepared to hold it for him to grab on to. She saw it happening, feeling his weight and the rescue. And yet she hesitated.
"Help!"
She had remembered the times before. His hand caressing hers, teasing some unwanted strength, threatening in the vaguest of ways. And even then his thoughts were certain of his foul desire.
And so the river had taken him and they all had watched. They had let it happen as the waters surrounded him in an opaque cover, the burial of some unwanted pest, and they feigned the mourning as all good friends should do.
Then they were three.
But he had come back. The first trees were tall and skinny and gave little shade. Their slanting shadows were bars as they passed, looking like prisoners in a dream world, and then from that shifting prison, Haldar had come, wet and worn. The Grey River had taken much from him, he said, and he was different, completely different.
"I left more of my soul there than you," he said.
They looked at him and knew what he was, or what he wasn't. That night they discussed it in secret, and decided they would bide time before doing what must be done.
Three days had passed since then, but that time still had not come.
Sleep overcame them and they rested awhile. The falling sun awoke them to a red and orange sky and their shadows spilled past the hill.
"Statia," Alton said.
He was stretching.
"Yes?"
"I've had a bad dream. Worse than any of the others before."
"Was it of your past? The stealing in your mother's house?"
"No. No it was..."
She saw his face. She touched his head and the after images of the fading dream kindled within her.
Haldar stared beneath a blackened sky, alone and afraid. All around a great water rushed him, surrounding him with its endless sound.
The dream faded and she recoiled.
"I... I have no remedy," she said.
She looked at Haldar. The thing which pretended to be him looked at her and smiled. Though shifters like him were not connected as strongly to the Void, she could feel his thoughts in the air, like some distant food that has long been eaten.
*He means me no malice. Not like his...*
Victim. But she could not say the word.
Keldar walked to Haldar and put his hand on his shoulder.
"How is your wound?"
"Better now," Haldar said.
*He feels the same*, Keldar thought. *He really does.*
Then they packed their things and prepared for another night of walking. Lankar glittered in the night like some crystal, and yet soft as home's bed sheets on a cold night.
"What's there again?" Haldar asked.
He looked at them to see if any suspected. He thought they did. He thought he should kill them, but living in the black had not tainted his heart.
*Never have I seen such beauty as her.*
And in the moonlight Annastatia was some Queen, the kind of which no longer walks this world. Some distant being, ghost-like and tender, and yet strong and hardy with eyes opened into the real world.
*But she is Keldar's.*
And he felt sad. He felt the light on him and looked up.
*I should kill them and have her to myself.*
But she would die first before such things could happen. She would kill him then surely. They already considered the deed. He closed his eyes. The light painted him with a warmth the others could not feel.
*They have not lived in the dark,* he thought. *They are human. Weak and ignorant of the Dark, for they know not of such things.*
"Lankar," Alton said. "The mountain of Dreams. There, as legend goes, is the Spring of Dreaming. One sip of its water will change you. It will make whatever is in your heart come true."
"It can change the world physically?"
"No," said Annastatia. "But it will change *you*. It will change the spirit so that what you hold dearest will come true in a way of its own. It is not a place of wishes."
"It is like the Grey River then?" Haldar asked.
"Yes, in a sense. But it does not take. It gives and cleanses."
Then they were quiet. In their hearts they were uneasy. Haldar's death weighed immensely on them.
*The Spring will clean me,* Keldar thought.
Annastatia held him. Her face was pretty in the white light and he looked at her and loved her anew once more. He put his arm around her.
*I am an evil man,* he thought.
She looked at him with those sad eyes of hers.
*If that be true, then so are we all my love.*
He squeezed her hand.
*What hope is there then? This guilt weighs too heavy on me.*
*The Spring, as you've thought. The Spring is our only hope. Haldar was a fool. The River took him of its own choosing. His heart was black, blacker than this imposter.*
"I like you," Alton said to Haldar. "I don't know if you understand, but I'll be truthful. I like you."
And Haldar, the thing, understood as much. It too had thoughts that raged in an incomprehensible storm.
"I like you too," he said. "All of you."
"Then may the Spring save us," Keldar said.
And they marched in silence as the night slowly passed.
-
*Hi there! If you liked this story, please consider my subreddit r/PanMan. It has all my WP stories as well as some original ones. I'm slowly working on it and getting it to look nicer, so I promise it will look better soon. Thank you!* | Koe was lizard. He must remember that. IF he were to forget, he would lose his form, and without his form he was vulnerable. Vulnerability was death. Death was the end. Koe did not want to end, he would rather be a lizard.
"Silent you filthy slatten!" A deep voice boomed on the other side of the tree Koe was hiding on. "The shapeshifter is here somewhere, I know it! Now take your bloody bitch and go! FIND IT!" The voice boomed again. There was a soft grunt of confirmation, and then all Koe could hear was the sound of someone and some... thing... moving away.
Koe scrambled around the trunk of the branch he was hiding on until he could peek over it. He was just in time to see a small she-elf walking in the opposite direction, closely followed by a dire wolf. ::By the shape of mud, look at the size of that thing!:: He thought before turning his attention to the loud one.
He had been chasing Koe for so long. This was to be his 24th consecutive year of hunting him.
He was a tall man, closer to seventeen hands than sixteen. The years had robbed the mans hair of its color, leaving it a mildewy gray with tiny spots of black where once a lush dark brown had been. His face was leathery and sun beaten, his freckles all but lost. He wore a brigantine, but the years had rusted the iron studs, and the leather had holes all throughout it. At his hip was a sheath of a red lacquered wood. In his hands was a longsword, polished to a shine, and covered in runes.
Koe had to look away. His eyes hurt. ::Silver. Damnit Algin, what are you doing?:: After enough time had passed for the pain to subside, Koe refocused on the graying man. ::Time has been cruel to you, old friend.::
He was Koe's friend. At least to Koe. When Algin had been a young boy he had chanced upon Koe in the form of a bear. Algin had barely seen two winters, he was barely more than a bite...
Koe allowed himself to remember the moment. The squeal of delight as the little boy ran right up to him and starting running his hands through is fur. He had no fear. Only innocence. He had stood up on his hind legs and with a bellowing roar from the belly of his stomach he began to... Dance. He had danced the Lily dance in the form of a bear for the brave child.
That little boy had followed Koe around after that for six days. Koe had changed his form twice in front of the boy, once when he tried to hide from him, and then again when he realized the boy would die if he did not intervene. He had decided to take the boy to the nearest man-village, and after six days he accomplished his task. He would never forget those sad brown eyes when he sat Algin upon the plank roof of the guard house. He had thought then that he would never know the little boys name, that this would be the last time he would see him.
In many ways, he was right.
That little boy was gone now. The years had not been nice to Algin Cutter. As soon as the boy could talk he began telling stories of the dancing bear. Ridicule soon followed. As a social malcontent, he had grown up fighting enemies everywhere. On his last name day he had proclaimed himself a hunter and had taken to the woods in search of the dancing bear. After 30 days of nothing, Algin returned to the village empty handed and starved. | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | "That was..." Brawg began, staggering over the bodies of the fallen goblins, his boots squelching in the treacle-like blood.
"Far too..." said Vesperr, returning her bow to her back, and beginning to pluck out arrows from the deceased enemies.
"Oxyrin!" finished Oxyrin, his pointed hat falling over his eyes once again. Dribble oozed down from his mouth and his pupils spun this way and that, as if two compasses confused by magnets.
Brawg and Vesperr looked at each other for a moment, then burst out laughing. Brawg brought a thunderous hand down on the wizard's back. "Don't ever change, Oxyrin!" he said.
"Oh, Oxyrin," grinned Vesperr, "you're the reason we do this, you know? For that smile on your face." She wiped away a the spittle from his lips, then shook her finger, sending the spit plopping onto the ground.
"Oxyrin!" Oxyrin repeated. A pointed tongue darted out of his mouth and latched onto a fly that was hovering over a brutalised body below.
"I'm going to pretend I didn't just see that," said Brawg with a wink. "Okay gang, I'd say we're all done here. I believe its time to go collect our reward."
"Not so fast, my friends," came a mysterious voice from behind them. Only, when they turned, there was *nothing* behind them.
Slowly, the blue-robed wizard hazed into existence. "It is I, the *real* Oxyrin! I have been trapped for the longest time, but I have finally outsmarted my captors and have returned to my friends. For no one is as clever as the Great Oxyrin!"
Brawg and Vesperr glanced at each other, then let out a joint gasp.
"Quite you might gasp," said Oxyrin, as he turned and pointed an accusing finger at the other blue wizard, who was now on all fours chasing after a spider. "For that fellow, has fooled you, my dear friends. But he is nothing more than an impostor! A Doppelganger! A fake, a fraud, and dare I say it, a phoney."
Brawg nudged Vesperr and they both gasped again.
"How.. erm, how can we believe you?" asked Vesperr, her top lip wet with nervous sweat. "How do we know he--"she pointed to the to the wizard, who was now chewing on something--"isn't the real Oxyrin. After all, he would have had to fool us both for two entire years."
Oxyrin rolled his eyes. "Hardly a challenging task. You two never were the"--his hands burst into blue flames--"brightest sparks. Ha. Hahaha."
Brawg's muscles tensed. Vesperr put a hand against his chest.
"That's not proof enough. For our Oxyrin can also do such petty parlour tricks."
"Very well," Oxyrin sighed, "I shall prove it. We shall have a wizard-off."
"Smart," said Vesperr. She let out a high pitched whistle, at which the other Oxyrin came bounding over to her.
"Oxyrin!" he sputtered as he arrived.
"Is that all he can say? How could you *possibly* believe he was me?"
"Good point," said Brawg. "His vocabulary is much larger."
"Oh. You made a joke. How very amusing."
"Okay," said Vesperr. "Round one of the wizard-off. *Shape-shifting.*"
"What? What a stupid round," complained Oxyrin, "for sniffing out a shape-shifter!" His face was red and a vein popped out of his forehead, pulsating like waves on the ocean. "Unbelievable idiocy. How you have possibly survived this long without me to guide you -- heaven only knows!"
"Oxyrin!" replied the other Oxyrin.
"Well, if you can't do it and he can..." said Brawg shrugging, "then I guess we know who the real wizard is."
"Oh... *pish!* Very well. And what must we change into, pray tell?"
"Something very small. To really challenge your morphitisation skills. A fly. Simple. First one to transform into a fly wins."
"Sala kazoo, Sala kazam!" shouted Oxyrin. There was a puff of smoke that left Vesperr and Brawg coughing. As it cleared, and only for the briefest moment, they saw a fly. Then, they saw a huge, pointed tongue. Finally, they saw an Oxyrin chewing on and then swallowing *something*.
"Oxyrin!" he shouted triumphantly, as Brawg and Vesperr collapsed into a fit of laughter.
"Oh Oxyrin," said Brawg, slapping him on the back "you really are too much."
"And," said Vesperr, "we wouldn't have it any other way!"
| Koe was lizard. He must remember that. IF he were to forget, he would lose his form, and without his form he was vulnerable. Vulnerability was death. Death was the end. Koe did not want to end, he would rather be a lizard.
"Silent you filthy slatten!" A deep voice boomed on the other side of the tree Koe was hiding on. "The shapeshifter is here somewhere, I know it! Now take your bloody bitch and go! FIND IT!" The voice boomed again. There was a soft grunt of confirmation, and then all Koe could hear was the sound of someone and some... thing... moving away.
Koe scrambled around the trunk of the branch he was hiding on until he could peek over it. He was just in time to see a small she-elf walking in the opposite direction, closely followed by a dire wolf. ::By the shape of mud, look at the size of that thing!:: He thought before turning his attention to the loud one.
He had been chasing Koe for so long. This was to be his 24th consecutive year of hunting him.
He was a tall man, closer to seventeen hands than sixteen. The years had robbed the mans hair of its color, leaving it a mildewy gray with tiny spots of black where once a lush dark brown had been. His face was leathery and sun beaten, his freckles all but lost. He wore a brigantine, but the years had rusted the iron studs, and the leather had holes all throughout it. At his hip was a sheath of a red lacquered wood. In his hands was a longsword, polished to a shine, and covered in runes.
Koe had to look away. His eyes hurt. ::Silver. Damnit Algin, what are you doing?:: After enough time had passed for the pain to subside, Koe refocused on the graying man. ::Time has been cruel to you, old friend.::
He was Koe's friend. At least to Koe. When Algin had been a young boy he had chanced upon Koe in the form of a bear. Algin had barely seen two winters, he was barely more than a bite...
Koe allowed himself to remember the moment. The squeal of delight as the little boy ran right up to him and starting running his hands through is fur. He had no fear. Only innocence. He had stood up on his hind legs and with a bellowing roar from the belly of his stomach he began to... Dance. He had danced the Lily dance in the form of a bear for the brave child.
That little boy had followed Koe around after that for six days. Koe had changed his form twice in front of the boy, once when he tried to hide from him, and then again when he realized the boy would die if he did not intervene. He had decided to take the boy to the nearest man-village, and after six days he accomplished his task. He would never forget those sad brown eyes when he sat Algin upon the plank roof of the guard house. He had thought then that he would never know the little boys name, that this would be the last time he would see him.
In many ways, he was right.
That little boy was gone now. The years had not been nice to Algin Cutter. As soon as the boy could talk he began telling stories of the dancing bear. Ridicule soon followed. As a social malcontent, he had grown up fighting enemies everywhere. On his last name day he had proclaimed himself a hunter and had taken to the woods in search of the dancing bear. After 30 days of nothing, Algin returned to the village empty handed and starved. | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | "A fine...mead?!" Rorik shouts over the din of the tavern. His companions smile and nod along with him as he sings some old barbarian tune.
Sings it wrong. They don't tell him that though.
Delia, the group's cleric leans over to their mage.
"Do you think he knows?"
Melvar just shakes his head and holds out a palm towards their massive friend. Friend as of lately, of course. Rorik was a massive pain for the group long before the shifter stole his face.
"He definitely doesn't but...I think I like him. Rorik was a bit of a jerk, always running off into the dungeons with that stupid battlecry. Remember when we went into the Crypt of Alohar, how many good people did he get killed?"
"Yeah...he's kinda cute now. Like a child or something."
They both watch Rorik move around the tavern with his mug and talk to other groups of adventurers. He's loud but not overbearing. He listens to the stories of others instead of telling his own. He drinks but not to excess. He is nothing like the barbarian they all had come to know and...
Melvar doesn't quite finish the thought.
"You know what Del, I like him. I know he's a shifter but look at everyone. We all know and he's trying so hard to be like Rorik but he just can't. I don't think there's a mean bone in that thing's body. You know that he hasn't made fun of my beard once, not in months."
She snorts. The young mage was trying so hard to grow it out and he'd been self-conscious about it for months.
A warrior passing by their table to his own party leans over and whispers it to the pair.
"You should keep him. He's an improvement."
"Friends!" Rorik shouts, sitting again at their table, "What fun! And we do this between every adventure? And people give us gold to go on those adventures? To spend here? Amazing!"
He is off again before they can even respond.
"Do you think The Dwarf knows?" Melvar watches Rorik join another random group of adventures and sing yet another song. Still wrong.
Delia shrugs.
"I don't know and I don't care. We're gonna keep him. He's like a dog or something. But useful."
Melvar strokes his "beard" for a moment.
"Alright, we'll keep him. But I swear if he ever makes fun of my beard-"
"What? You'll strangle him with one of your wisps? You should really shave, you're looking more like a magical hobo than a wizard. 'I cast: smell of unwashedness!'"
As she walks away laughing at her own joke Melvar narrows his eyes. He lifts his mug and mutters something into it before drinking.
"I'll replace you too if I have to..." | Koe was lizard. He must remember that. IF he were to forget, he would lose his form, and without his form he was vulnerable. Vulnerability was death. Death was the end. Koe did not want to end, he would rather be a lizard.
"Silent you filthy slatten!" A deep voice boomed on the other side of the tree Koe was hiding on. "The shapeshifter is here somewhere, I know it! Now take your bloody bitch and go! FIND IT!" The voice boomed again. There was a soft grunt of confirmation, and then all Koe could hear was the sound of someone and some... thing... moving away.
Koe scrambled around the trunk of the branch he was hiding on until he could peek over it. He was just in time to see a small she-elf walking in the opposite direction, closely followed by a dire wolf. ::By the shape of mud, look at the size of that thing!:: He thought before turning his attention to the loud one.
He had been chasing Koe for so long. This was to be his 24th consecutive year of hunting him.
He was a tall man, closer to seventeen hands than sixteen. The years had robbed the mans hair of its color, leaving it a mildewy gray with tiny spots of black where once a lush dark brown had been. His face was leathery and sun beaten, his freckles all but lost. He wore a brigantine, but the years had rusted the iron studs, and the leather had holes all throughout it. At his hip was a sheath of a red lacquered wood. In his hands was a longsword, polished to a shine, and covered in runes.
Koe had to look away. His eyes hurt. ::Silver. Damnit Algin, what are you doing?:: After enough time had passed for the pain to subside, Koe refocused on the graying man. ::Time has been cruel to you, old friend.::
He was Koe's friend. At least to Koe. When Algin had been a young boy he had chanced upon Koe in the form of a bear. Algin had barely seen two winters, he was barely more than a bite...
Koe allowed himself to remember the moment. The squeal of delight as the little boy ran right up to him and starting running his hands through is fur. He had no fear. Only innocence. He had stood up on his hind legs and with a bellowing roar from the belly of his stomach he began to... Dance. He had danced the Lily dance in the form of a bear for the brave child.
That little boy had followed Koe around after that for six days. Koe had changed his form twice in front of the boy, once when he tried to hide from him, and then again when he realized the boy would die if he did not intervene. He had decided to take the boy to the nearest man-village, and after six days he accomplished his task. He would never forget those sad brown eyes when he sat Algin upon the plank roof of the guard house. He had thought then that he would never know the little boys name, that this would be the last time he would see him.
In many ways, he was right.
That little boy was gone now. The years had not been nice to Algin Cutter. As soon as the boy could talk he began telling stories of the dancing bear. Ridicule soon followed. As a social malcontent, he had grown up fighting enemies everywhere. On his last name day he had proclaimed himself a hunter and had taken to the woods in search of the dancing bear. After 30 days of nothing, Algin returned to the village empty handed and starved. | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | The light was fading quickly, they needed to get camp set up. Mordram the warlock spoke an incantation, a small pile of tinder lit just below his fingertips. He began pulling some rations out of his pack. Aisha was busy praying to the setting sun, she wouldn’t help until the last glimmer of light left the western sky. Archibauld figured he’d at least use the little bugger until they decided what to do with him.
“Hey Eric, can you go get us some water from the river down there?” The orc perked up, he pointed at himself sheepishly, looking behind him to see if anyone else might be the target of the request. When he saw no one else moving, he hopped up; he immediately forgot the broken lyre that he had been trying, very unsuccessfully, to play.
“Elric fetch water? Yes, yes. Elric fetches the best water! You will see. The water for his friends! Best friends of Elric the music man!!!” He started galloping towards the river, only to have to turn back to grab the pail that he had forgotten at Archibauld’s feet.
Mordram spoke up once the orc was out of earshot, “Don’t get attached, we’ll have to do something about him soon. He’s a liability.”
Archibauld was setting up the tent, he noticed some blood stains on the yellow fabric, the original Eric had been carrying it,”He’s been following us for weeks—” Mordram’s eyebrow raised “—exactly, he wasn’t part of the ambush. He killed that bugbear once Eric went down.”
Aisha stood up, dusted off her knees, “I sense no ill will in him.”
“He’s going to slit our throats in our sleep, or bring a whole army of orcs down on us—” Mordram had set up a small pot over the fire, he just needed the water from the river.”—Also, I think it’s really creepy he’s trying to take over Eric’s identity.”
Aisha snorted, “He hasn’t hit on me a single time, so he hasn’t done that good a job.”
Archibauld moved on to his longbow, pulling out some oil and cloth, “Like I said, he’s been following us for weeks. How many times could he have tried to ambush us or bring his clan on us? I think he’s alone. Without Eric, we’re down one. The prophet said we needed four…”
Aisha jumped in, “Mordy, you didn’t even want Eric to come.”
“I don’t give a shit about Eric, he was a liability, too. I just don’t want a bloody orc staring over me while we sleep.” Mordram walked off towards the edge of camp, looking North to where they’d find their final destination.”—We do need a fourth…”
Archibauld clapped him on the shoulder, Mordram hadn’t heard him come up behind him, he hated rangers, “Thats the spirit, Mordy! We’ll have him sleep outside the tent, Aisha will let us know if she senses anything wrong with him.”
A rustle from the bushes alerted the three that their new companion was returning. He stumbled into the clearing with a full pail of water and three fish hanging from a string.
“Hullo friends of Elric my human person that I am! Hullo, Elric brings gifts of delicious fishes for eating with his best friends. Let Elric play beauty sounds while you burn delicious foods on fires because that is how humans like us eat delicious foods.” He dropped the water and fish by the fire, then hopped on his rock and began picking at the broken lyre.
Mordram exchanged a smirk with Aisha and Archibauld, “We’re very glad you’re back…Elric. Play us a human song for us to eat delicious foods.”
Elric chirped with glee, his grin taking up his whole face. | First WP so looking for constructive criticism please 😊 (especially on formatting)
_______________________________________________
“Excellent!” Go’rim cackled out like a thirsty snake, brushing his thin diseased white hair back into place.
“If we keep all the plants in this village hydrated, nothing can stop I the evil Go’rim chancellor of destruction from irritating their allergies!”
Go’rim shook his hands furiously then doubled over in evil laughter.
“He’s wheezing…” whispered Serra, one of four members in the council of evil. The other members of the council had long suspected Go’rim had been replaced by a shifter. Serra adjusted in her noblewoman’s coat, then turned her attention back to the speaker
The laughter echoed throughout the small meeting, absorbed by the poor acoustics in the wooden town hall, then stopped.
“and to keep these plants hydrated, do you know what we will do?” Go’rim paused and raised an eyebrow as he eyed each member of the council, trying to suppress an overjoyed snicker.
“We will teach them the techniques of irrigation! Just think of it! the villagers working all day in the hot sun digging channels, they will become exhausted!”
The laughter started again.
Serra rolled her eyes meeting the gaze of another council member. The councils last scheme had been to inflict a group of shifters with a magical Aphasia. Serra looking at her notes read the description once over “a disease where one can misunderstand words and their meaning.”
One of the shifters had gotten to poor old weak Go’rim. Good riddance. Serra took a few final notes on the experiment, raised her staff, then incinerated the creature.
| |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | The light was fading quickly, they needed to get camp set up. Mordram the warlock spoke an incantation, a small pile of tinder lit just below his fingertips. He began pulling some rations out of his pack. Aisha was busy praying to the setting sun, she wouldn’t help until the last glimmer of light left the western sky. Archibauld figured he’d at least use the little bugger until they decided what to do with him.
“Hey Eric, can you go get us some water from the river down there?” The orc perked up, he pointed at himself sheepishly, looking behind him to see if anyone else might be the target of the request. When he saw no one else moving, he hopped up; he immediately forgot the broken lyre that he had been trying, very unsuccessfully, to play.
“Elric fetch water? Yes, yes. Elric fetches the best water! You will see. The water for his friends! Best friends of Elric the music man!!!” He started galloping towards the river, only to have to turn back to grab the pail that he had forgotten at Archibauld’s feet.
Mordram spoke up once the orc was out of earshot, “Don’t get attached, we’ll have to do something about him soon. He’s a liability.”
Archibauld was setting up the tent, he noticed some blood stains on the yellow fabric, the original Eric had been carrying it,”He’s been following us for weeks—” Mordram’s eyebrow raised “—exactly, he wasn’t part of the ambush. He killed that bugbear once Eric went down.”
Aisha stood up, dusted off her knees, “I sense no ill will in him.”
“He’s going to slit our throats in our sleep, or bring a whole army of orcs down on us—” Mordram had set up a small pot over the fire, he just needed the water from the river.”—Also, I think it’s really creepy he’s trying to take over Eric’s identity.”
Aisha snorted, “He hasn’t hit on me a single time, so he hasn’t done that good a job.”
Archibauld moved on to his longbow, pulling out some oil and cloth, “Like I said, he’s been following us for weeks. How many times could he have tried to ambush us or bring his clan on us? I think he’s alone. Without Eric, we’re down one. The prophet said we needed four…”
Aisha jumped in, “Mordy, you didn’t even want Eric to come.”
“I don’t give a shit about Eric, he was a liability, too. I just don’t want a bloody orc staring over me while we sleep.” Mordram walked off towards the edge of camp, looking North to where they’d find their final destination.”—We do need a fourth…”
Archibauld clapped him on the shoulder, Mordram hadn’t heard him come up behind him, he hated rangers, “Thats the spirit, Mordy! We’ll have him sleep outside the tent, Aisha will let us know if she senses anything wrong with him.”
A rustle from the bushes alerted the three that their new companion was returning. He stumbled into the clearing with a full pail of water and three fish hanging from a string.
“Hullo friends of Elric my human person that I am! Hullo, Elric brings gifts of delicious fishes for eating with his best friends. Let Elric play beauty sounds while you burn delicious foods on fires because that is how humans like us eat delicious foods.” He dropped the water and fish by the fire, then hopped on his rock and began picking at the broken lyre.
Mordram exchanged a smirk with Aisha and Archibauld, “We’re very glad you’re back…Elric. Play us a human song for us to eat delicious foods.”
Elric chirped with glee, his grin taking up his whole face. | Bolton the doppelganger did not want to be an adventurer. He wanted to live quietly, and bake cookies. He grew tired of the constant hustle and bustle of morphing into people, committing crimes because no one trusted the Doppleganger kind. He figured his secluded life in the hills might buy him peace.
The rogue laid on his floor, blood oozing from the pan shaped dent on his forehead. The doppleganger held his frying pan, a pained look on his face.
"I didn't mean to kill you..." he muttered, letting the pan fall to the ground, and burying his smooth black face in his long alien fingers.
Bolton had awoken to the sounds of someone rummaging through his dresser. Without really thinking he'd lifted his trusty frying pan, and crept up on the black cloaked figure. The rogue, a stout fat dwarf turned and snarled at him bradishing twin black daggers.
"hey stop stealing my stuff!" Bolton said.
The rogue responded with an inept slash of a dagger. With a frightened flurry of pan blows Bolton had brought the rogue to the ground.
Now Bolton fretted. Many a doppler murdered with impunity, but Bolton never wished to do anything more than avoid trouble. He could read minds, yet he refused to. It spoiled the fun of meeting people, and knowing them. Due to this aversion to murder Bolton now stood paralyzed, unable to think of what to do with this body.
He began to poke at the stocky form, when he heard a firm knock emanating from behind his wood door.
"Durin, you oaf, you've been gone hours, what's going on."
Without really thinking Bolton became Durin. With a slam Barrin the Paladin opened the door and saw two Durins, one wearing simple clothes, the other armor. One wielded Durin's black steel knives, the other a bloodied cast iron pan.
"What's going on here?" Barrin asked.
"well um, see I fell asleep here in this cave, and then this doppleganger tried to steal my armor and knives and so I had to beat him with this frying pan?" Said Bolton.
The paladin smirked.
"I see, well good job. Now come on. We've got some ruins to explore. And next time maybe don't rob a domicile if you aren't sure it is abandoned." Barrin said.
Reluctantly, Bolton donned the dead Durrin's armor, and tools. After the paladin buried Durin, and planted a plank in the ground. The dopple busied himself inside preparing his house to be left, and Barrin wrote with a peice of charcoal from his pouch.
"here lies, Durin, a theif, a rat bastard, and a betrayer. He got himself killed robbing a good man." He wrote.
With a cool wisp of the wind following them, the newly minted Bolton/Durrin followed Barrin, not sure of the golden Haired human's destination, and worrying deeply of the state of his garden.
| |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | John, George, and Ringo were huddled together inside a secret room on the fantastical magical yellow submarine.
"George, how confident are you?"
George left his momentary silence of contemplation to say " Paul is dead man, miss him."
Ringo asks, "do you though? I mean I doubt if you guys would miss me either."
John shook his head, "we must have lost him on our way through Abby Road"
George sighed "I like the new one. I say we let it be."
A knock on the door. "You there guys? I was hoping we'd do a music number about friendship."
John looked at the others, and they nodded in agreement. John opened the door and announced, "ALL TOGETHER NOW!" | Bolton the doppelganger did not want to be an adventurer. He wanted to live quietly, and bake cookies. He grew tired of the constant hustle and bustle of morphing into people, committing crimes because no one trusted the Doppleganger kind. He figured his secluded life in the hills might buy him peace.
The rogue laid on his floor, blood oozing from the pan shaped dent on his forehead. The doppleganger held his frying pan, a pained look on his face.
"I didn't mean to kill you..." he muttered, letting the pan fall to the ground, and burying his smooth black face in his long alien fingers.
Bolton had awoken to the sounds of someone rummaging through his dresser. Without really thinking he'd lifted his trusty frying pan, and crept up on the black cloaked figure. The rogue, a stout fat dwarf turned and snarled at him bradishing twin black daggers.
"hey stop stealing my stuff!" Bolton said.
The rogue responded with an inept slash of a dagger. With a frightened flurry of pan blows Bolton had brought the rogue to the ground.
Now Bolton fretted. Many a doppler murdered with impunity, but Bolton never wished to do anything more than avoid trouble. He could read minds, yet he refused to. It spoiled the fun of meeting people, and knowing them. Due to this aversion to murder Bolton now stood paralyzed, unable to think of what to do with this body.
He began to poke at the stocky form, when he heard a firm knock emanating from behind his wood door.
"Durin, you oaf, you've been gone hours, what's going on."
Without really thinking Bolton became Durin. With a slam Barrin the Paladin opened the door and saw two Durins, one wearing simple clothes, the other armor. One wielded Durin's black steel knives, the other a bloodied cast iron pan.
"What's going on here?" Barrin asked.
"well um, see I fell asleep here in this cave, and then this doppleganger tried to steal my armor and knives and so I had to beat him with this frying pan?" Said Bolton.
The paladin smirked.
"I see, well good job. Now come on. We've got some ruins to explore. And next time maybe don't rob a domicile if you aren't sure it is abandoned." Barrin said.
Reluctantly, Bolton donned the dead Durrin's armor, and tools. After the paladin buried Durin, and planted a plank in the ground. The dopple busied himself inside preparing his house to be left, and Barrin wrote with a peice of charcoal from his pouch.
"here lies, Durin, a theif, a rat bastard, and a betrayer. He got himself killed robbing a good man." He wrote.
With a cool wisp of the wind following them, the newly minted Bolton/Durrin followed Barrin, not sure of the golden Haired human's destination, and worrying deeply of the state of his garden.
| |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | The tavern was alight with candles and warm fires, the smell of meats and bread wafted through to the rafters of wood and plaster. Ale stained the floor in places and the barkeep had been working on a single mug for a startling amount of time. All and all a lively place to be on this evening.
"Ah and a fine night to you as well gentlemen! Merry blessings!" The rogue said, as the men who joined him for cards departed a few coins heavier then they were at start.
"Is this not grand fellows?" The elf turned to his crew. "Ale in the air! A tavern filled with beautiful women! And my closest friend in the world." He stood then, a leg up on the top of the table, his back leg supporting him from the ground
"Ladies! Gentlemen!" He yelled, "Tonight, join me in toast to this merry band of fighters, lovers and the heroes of this town tonight! We are all thankful," he stopped to smile at his friends, the ale tinting his checks red "but I am thankful, for they are the truest of my friends" and with that he drank. The here-heres rose in strength from the crowd, and he was jostled away by the crowd with promises to be back later.
The dwarf, gnome and orc all sat in silence, looking at their drinks solemnly.
The dwarf sighed, pinching the top of his nose,
The orc had his hand in his head looking off into nothingness,
Finally the gnome chimed in, quietly, but with a resolute tone
"Okay, I'll say it. He's a much better companion then Roderick and we should do everything in our earthly powers not to mess this up."
The orc and dwarf both sighed in unanimous relief
The orc chimed in first with a hushed tone and feeling in his voice "Its like he knew what a whoreson Roderick was!" He said, sitting at attention once again " its like he knew and said to himself 'oh! These chaps look like they could use a new, better companion!' Then took it upon himself, through all the peril, to join us in disguise! All while throwing Roderick into god knows where!" He laughed. "The monster was OUR hero!"
The dwarf was next, wide eyed and hands extended to point out "Roderick" in the crowd. " look at that bloody rogue, he blends right in, they would never know they're holding possibly one of the most dangerous monsters in the land" he lowered his hands, then pointed out, " for all that, doesn't that also make him a better rogue?" They all agreed quietly.
The orc chimed in once more, tentatively, " look Roderick is a whoreson who would and almost did murder us for a small some of coin, twice." They all agreed muttering comments under their breath, " but were the you know...good guys... shouldn't we at least try to save him?"
The others were about to reluctantly agree when "Roderick" appeared before them once again
"My friends! this is as much your victory as mine! More so! Come join us, the mayor seems keen on raising our rewards! I thought it only fitting you be by my... Nay, I be by your sides during this!" He smiled warmly.
They looked at each other, shrugged and smiled
"No that's fine, we can be knaves for a night." The gnome said, stepping up from his seat. | Bolton the doppelganger did not want to be an adventurer. He wanted to live quietly, and bake cookies. He grew tired of the constant hustle and bustle of morphing into people, committing crimes because no one trusted the Doppleganger kind. He figured his secluded life in the hills might buy him peace.
The rogue laid on his floor, blood oozing from the pan shaped dent on his forehead. The doppleganger held his frying pan, a pained look on his face.
"I didn't mean to kill you..." he muttered, letting the pan fall to the ground, and burying his smooth black face in his long alien fingers.
Bolton had awoken to the sounds of someone rummaging through his dresser. Without really thinking he'd lifted his trusty frying pan, and crept up on the black cloaked figure. The rogue, a stout fat dwarf turned and snarled at him bradishing twin black daggers.
"hey stop stealing my stuff!" Bolton said.
The rogue responded with an inept slash of a dagger. With a frightened flurry of pan blows Bolton had brought the rogue to the ground.
Now Bolton fretted. Many a doppler murdered with impunity, but Bolton never wished to do anything more than avoid trouble. He could read minds, yet he refused to. It spoiled the fun of meeting people, and knowing them. Due to this aversion to murder Bolton now stood paralyzed, unable to think of what to do with this body.
He began to poke at the stocky form, when he heard a firm knock emanating from behind his wood door.
"Durin, you oaf, you've been gone hours, what's going on."
Without really thinking Bolton became Durin. With a slam Barrin the Paladin opened the door and saw two Durins, one wearing simple clothes, the other armor. One wielded Durin's black steel knives, the other a bloodied cast iron pan.
"What's going on here?" Barrin asked.
"well um, see I fell asleep here in this cave, and then this doppleganger tried to steal my armor and knives and so I had to beat him with this frying pan?" Said Bolton.
The paladin smirked.
"I see, well good job. Now come on. We've got some ruins to explore. And next time maybe don't rob a domicile if you aren't sure it is abandoned." Barrin said.
Reluctantly, Bolton donned the dead Durrin's armor, and tools. After the paladin buried Durin, and planted a plank in the ground. The dopple busied himself inside preparing his house to be left, and Barrin wrote with a peice of charcoal from his pouch.
"here lies, Durin, a theif, a rat bastard, and a betrayer. He got himself killed robbing a good man." He wrote.
With a cool wisp of the wind following them, the newly minted Bolton/Durrin followed Barrin, not sure of the golden Haired human's destination, and worrying deeply of the state of his garden.
| |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | John, George, and Ringo were huddled together inside a secret room on the fantastical magical yellow submarine.
"George, how confident are you?"
George left his momentary silence of contemplation to say " Paul is dead man, miss him."
Ringo asks, "do you though? I mean I doubt if you guys would miss me either."
John shook his head, "we must have lost him on our way through Abby Road"
George sighed "I like the new one. I say we let it be."
A knock on the door. "You there guys? I was hoping we'd do a music number about friendship."
John looked at the others, and they nodded in agreement. John opened the door and announced, "ALL TOGETHER NOW!" | Bolton the doppelganger did not want to be an adventurer. He wanted to live quietly, and bake cookies. He grew tired of the constant hustle and bustle of morphing into people, committing crimes because no one trusted the Doppleganger kind. He figured his secluded life in the hills might buy him peace.
The rogue laid on his floor, blood oozing from the pan shaped dent on his forehead. The doppleganger held his frying pan, a pained look on his face.
"I didn't mean to kill you..." he muttered, letting the pan fall to the ground, and burying his smooth black face in his long alien fingers.
Bolton had awoken to the sounds of someone rummaging through his dresser. Without really thinking he'd lifted his trusty frying pan, and crept up on the black cloaked figure. The rogue, a stout fat dwarf turned and snarled at him bradishing twin black daggers.
"hey stop stealing my stuff!" Bolton said.
The rogue responded with an inept slash of a dagger. With a frightened flurry of pan blows Bolton had brought the rogue to the ground.
Now Bolton fretted. Many a doppler murdered with impunity, but Bolton never wished to do anything more than avoid trouble. He could read minds, yet he refused to. It spoiled the fun of meeting people, and knowing them. Due to this aversion to murder Bolton now stood paralyzed, unable to think of what to do with this body.
He began to poke at the stocky form, when he heard a firm knock emanating from behind his wood door.
"Durin, you oaf, you've been gone hours, what's going on."
Without really thinking Bolton became Durin. With a slam Barrin the Paladin opened the door and saw two Durins, one wearing simple clothes, the other armor. One wielded Durin's black steel knives, the other a bloodied cast iron pan.
"What's going on here?" Barrin asked.
"well um, see I fell asleep here in this cave, and then this doppleganger tried to steal my armor and knives and so I had to beat him with this frying pan?" Said Bolton.
The paladin smirked.
"I see, well good job. Now come on. We've got some ruins to explore. And next time maybe don't rob a domicile if you aren't sure it is abandoned." Barrin said.
Reluctantly, Bolton donned the dead Durrin's armor, and tools. After the paladin buried Durin, and planted a plank in the ground. The dopple busied himself inside preparing his house to be left, and Barrin wrote with a peice of charcoal from his pouch.
"here lies, Durin, a theif, a rat bastard, and a betrayer. He got himself killed robbing a good man." He wrote.
With a cool wisp of the wind following them, the newly minted Bolton/Durrin followed Barrin, not sure of the golden Haired human's destination, and worrying deeply of the state of his garden.
| |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | The tavern was alight with candles and warm fires, the smell of meats and bread wafted through to the rafters of wood and plaster. Ale stained the floor in places and the barkeep had been working on a single mug for a startling amount of time. All and all a lively place to be on this evening.
"Ah and a fine night to you as well gentlemen! Merry blessings!" The rogue said, as the men who joined him for cards departed a few coins heavier then they were at start.
"Is this not grand fellows?" The elf turned to his crew. "Ale in the air! A tavern filled with beautiful women! And my closest friends in the world." He stood then, a leg up on the top of the table, his back leg supporting him from the ground
"Ladies! Gentlemen!" He yelled, "Tonight, join me in toast to this merry band of fighters, lovers and the heroes of this town! We are all thankful," he stopped to smile at his friends, the ale tinting his checks red "but I am thankful, for they are the truest of my friends" and with that he drank. The here-heres rose in strength from the crowd, and he was jostled away by the crowd with promises to be back later.
The dwarf, gnome and orc all sat in silence, looking at their drinks solemnly.
The dwarf sighed, pinching the top of his nose,
The orc had his head in his hands looking off into nothingness,
Finally the gnome chimed in, quietly, but with a resolute tone
"Okay, I'll say it. He's a much better companion then Roderick and we should do everything in our earthly powers not to mess this up."
The orc and dwarf both sighed in unanimous relief
The orc chimed in first with a hushed tone and feeling in his voice "Its like he knew what a whoreson Roderick was!" He said, sitting at attention once again " its like he knew and said to himself 'oh! These chaps look like they could use a new, better companion!' Then took it upon himself, through all the peril, to join us in disguise! All while throwing Roderick into god knows where!" He laughed. "The monster was OUR hero!"
The dwarf was next, wide eyed and hands extended to point out "Roderick" in the crowd. " look at that bloody rogue, he blends right in, they would never know they're holding possibly one of the most dangerous monsters in the land" he lowered his hands, then pointed out, " for all that, doesn't that also make him a better rogue?" They all agreed quietly.
The orc chimed in once more, tentatively, " look Roderick is a whoreson who would and almost did murder us for a small some of coin, twice." They all agreed muttering comments under their breath, " but were the you know...good guys... shouldn't we at least try to save him?"
The others were about to reluctantly agree when "Roderick" appeared before them once again
"My friends! this is as much your victory as mine! More so! Come join us, the mayor seems keen on raising our rewards! I thought it only fitting you be by my... Nay, I be by your sides during this!" He smiled warmly.
They looked at each other, shrugged and smiled
"No that's fine, we can be knaves for a night." The gnome said, stepping up from his seat. | Bolton the doppelganger did not want to be an adventurer. He wanted to live quietly, and bake cookies. He grew tired of the constant hustle and bustle of morphing into people, committing crimes because no one trusted the Doppleganger kind. He figured his secluded life in the hills might buy him peace.
The rogue laid on his floor, blood oozing from the pan shaped dent on his forehead. The doppleganger held his frying pan, a pained look on his face.
"I didn't mean to kill you..." he muttered, letting the pan fall to the ground, and burying his smooth black face in his long alien fingers.
Bolton had awoken to the sounds of someone rummaging through his dresser. Without really thinking he'd lifted his trusty frying pan, and crept up on the black cloaked figure. The rogue, a stout fat dwarf turned and snarled at him bradishing twin black daggers.
"hey stop stealing my stuff!" Bolton said.
The rogue responded with an inept slash of a dagger. With a frightened flurry of pan blows Bolton had brought the rogue to the ground.
Now Bolton fretted. Many a doppler murdered with impunity, but Bolton never wished to do anything more than avoid trouble. He could read minds, yet he refused to. It spoiled the fun of meeting people, and knowing them. Due to this aversion to murder Bolton now stood paralyzed, unable to think of what to do with this body.
He began to poke at the stocky form, when he heard a firm knock emanating from behind his wood door.
"Durin, you oaf, you've been gone hours, what's going on."
Without really thinking Bolton became Durin. With a slam Barrin the Paladin opened the door and saw two Durins, one wearing simple clothes, the other armor. One wielded Durin's black steel knives, the other a bloodied cast iron pan.
"What's going on here?" Barrin asked.
"well um, see I fell asleep here in this cave, and then this doppleganger tried to steal my armor and knives and so I had to beat him with this frying pan?" Said Bolton.
The paladin smirked.
"I see, well good job. Now come on. We've got some ruins to explore. And next time maybe don't rob a domicile if you aren't sure it is abandoned." Barrin said.
Reluctantly, Bolton donned the dead Durrin's armor, and tools. After the paladin buried Durin, and planted a plank in the ground. The dopple busied himself inside preparing his house to be left, and Barrin wrote with a peice of charcoal from his pouch.
"here lies, Durin, a theif, a rat bastard, and a betrayer. He got himself killed robbing a good man." He wrote.
With a cool wisp of the wind following them, the newly minted Bolton/Durrin followed Barrin, not sure of the golden Haired human's destination, and worrying deeply of the state of his garden.
| |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | "Guys, I think those holes might be for arrows or something. We had better check if this hallway is trapped!" warned Danny.
The party stopped, and Julie, an experienced rogue, did a check for traps. Sure enough, she found one, though curiously it was already disarmed.
Veronica explained, "It looks like someone has already blocked the mechanism with a rock. It should be safe to head down the passageway."
"Wait, before we go on, I need a quick break to use the loo." Danny looked abashed.
That brought some sighs from the group. "Couldn't you have done that a few minutes ago, before we entered the dungeon?" asked Veronica.
"Sorry everyone," replied Danny, "I drank too much water earlier." And off he went in search of some relief.
With Danny gone, the party had a moment to talk to themselves.
"He's really been such a better husband and father since....", Veronica trailed off.
"Yes, we've noticed lots of positive changes," replied Jim.
"He's making so much more time for the children. He's being so much more responsible in every way."
"You yourself seem happier these days", remarked Julie. "Have you decided to let on that you know?"
"No, I'm worried it...he... might decide to stop pretending. Our love-life has gotten incredible, and he is so much more into the role playing aspects I enjoy." For a moment her conflicting emotions filled her face. "He is my husband, even if he isn't the man I married anymore."
"We're here for you. We'll keep it quiet." Julie gave her hand a squeeze. "Oh, I think he's coming back."
Danny walked in, and rejoined the party. "Lets go kick some goblin butt!" He picked up the dice, and turned and look at his wife with a smile. "Ok DM, what do you think I need to roll to get a pizza delivered while we finish our game?" | Bolton the doppelganger did not want to be an adventurer. He wanted to live quietly, and bake cookies. He grew tired of the constant hustle and bustle of morphing into people, committing crimes because no one trusted the Doppleganger kind. He figured his secluded life in the hills might buy him peace.
The rogue laid on his floor, blood oozing from the pan shaped dent on his forehead. The doppleganger held his frying pan, a pained look on his face.
"I didn't mean to kill you..." he muttered, letting the pan fall to the ground, and burying his smooth black face in his long alien fingers.
Bolton had awoken to the sounds of someone rummaging through his dresser. Without really thinking he'd lifted his trusty frying pan, and crept up on the black cloaked figure. The rogue, a stout fat dwarf turned and snarled at him bradishing twin black daggers.
"hey stop stealing my stuff!" Bolton said.
The rogue responded with an inept slash of a dagger. With a frightened flurry of pan blows Bolton had brought the rogue to the ground.
Now Bolton fretted. Many a doppler murdered with impunity, but Bolton never wished to do anything more than avoid trouble. He could read minds, yet he refused to. It spoiled the fun of meeting people, and knowing them. Due to this aversion to murder Bolton now stood paralyzed, unable to think of what to do with this body.
He began to poke at the stocky form, when he heard a firm knock emanating from behind his wood door.
"Durin, you oaf, you've been gone hours, what's going on."
Without really thinking Bolton became Durin. With a slam Barrin the Paladin opened the door and saw two Durins, one wearing simple clothes, the other armor. One wielded Durin's black steel knives, the other a bloodied cast iron pan.
"What's going on here?" Barrin asked.
"well um, see I fell asleep here in this cave, and then this doppleganger tried to steal my armor and knives and so I had to beat him with this frying pan?" Said Bolton.
The paladin smirked.
"I see, well good job. Now come on. We've got some ruins to explore. And next time maybe don't rob a domicile if you aren't sure it is abandoned." Barrin said.
Reluctantly, Bolton donned the dead Durrin's armor, and tools. After the paladin buried Durin, and planted a plank in the ground. The dopple busied himself inside preparing his house to be left, and Barrin wrote with a peice of charcoal from his pouch.
"here lies, Durin, a theif, a rat bastard, and a betrayer. He got himself killed robbing a good man." He wrote.
With a cool wisp of the wind following them, the newly minted Bolton/Durrin followed Barrin, not sure of the golden Haired human's destination, and worrying deeply of the state of his garden.
| |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | "GREETINGS FELLOW ADVENTURING HUMANS!" Boomed the voice of Danny the Elf sat bolt upright from the sleeping cloth sack she had been in, causing Bob the Barbarian to grunt and curl up under his animal hide sleeping rug again.
"IT IS I, YOUR GOOD FRIEND DAN, I AM UNHARMED AFTER MY ENCOUNTER WITH THE DAEMON!" She continued smiling oddly, her mouth breaking into a wide grin with teeth and her eyebrows actually elevating.
"Dann...." Feldspar the half-elf warlock managed to stop himself from saying Danny, "You told us this before, remember?"
Danny the Elf blinked, everything was always so terribly confusing, having come from a dimension that didn't have time it had to learn about things happening and things that had happened, Makor the Cleric had helped with that, teaching the snow elf about how things happen and can't be changed but things that haven't happened yet can be altered.
"OH YES FRIEND!" Danny laughed as if it was a running joke, Sim the halfling thief/bard laughed a little as well in sympathy or perhaps enjoyment.
"WHERE ARE WE GOING TODAY? WILL THERE BE MORE EXCELLENT FERMENTED YEAST PRODUCTS TO CONSUME?"
Makor nodded slowly, "That's right Dan, more beer at the end of the adventure, now how did we get back the entrance avoiding the dragon, getting the treasure and nobody getting hurt?"
"OF COURSE FRIEND! THIS IS A THING THAT HAPPENED ALREADY AFTER ALL!" Danny confirmed with the group as each of them nodded in agreement pressing in to listen carefully to Danny.
"FIRSTLY, WE LEFT THE ROOM BY THE SOUTH ENTRANCE, SIM DISABLED THE PIT TRAP AFTER FALLING INTO IT AND DYING THE FIRST TIME HE TRIED." Danny started to explain.
Sim frowned a little looking towards the South entrance, he'd died; again, if 'Dan' hadn't told him about the pit trap or the acid or the undercooked chicken or ... he was incredibly glad that 'Dan' had changed so dramatically since that encounter with the demon.
"THE TREASURE IS MOSTLY CURSED AND FELDSPAR CHANGED INTO A SHEEP WHEN HE PICKED UP A STAFF THEN A STATUE AS HE TOUCHED THE CURSED DIAMOND AS LARGE AS HIS FIST AND THEN WAS KILLED AS HE PICKED UP A CROWN." Danny continued as Feldspar took careful notes, the warlock couldn't remember the last time he'd bothered to cast identification or detect item status.
Feldspar liked whatever was living inside Danny, even when the party wasn't using it as a cheap way to complete adventures the Elf was nicer, kinder and fun to listen to, with her soft voice always shouting it was hard not to giggle at her.
"THEN AS WE LEAVE THE REAL MAKOR ATTACKS THE FAKE ONE CURRENTLY TRAVELLING WITH US AND IS EASILY DEFEATED." Danny concluded smiling proudly.
Makor looked around the group as for a moment he was sure that his plan had been ruined, they must know, it was just said aloud.
Sim however was fiddling with his lock picks, clearly fully distracted, Feldspar was already in a meditative trance memorising spells.
Bob smiled widely at Makor and Danny before speaking in his native tongue, "What did she say then? Sounded like bad news for you, Feldspar and Sim..."
Makor nodded with a rush of relief as Bob wondered how many more times he could possibly pass that particular lie your face off check. | Bolton the doppelganger did not want to be an adventurer. He wanted to live quietly, and bake cookies. He grew tired of the constant hustle and bustle of morphing into people, committing crimes because no one trusted the Doppleganger kind. He figured his secluded life in the hills might buy him peace.
The rogue laid on his floor, blood oozing from the pan shaped dent on his forehead. The doppleganger held his frying pan, a pained look on his face.
"I didn't mean to kill you..." he muttered, letting the pan fall to the ground, and burying his smooth black face in his long alien fingers.
Bolton had awoken to the sounds of someone rummaging through his dresser. Without really thinking he'd lifted his trusty frying pan, and crept up on the black cloaked figure. The rogue, a stout fat dwarf turned and snarled at him bradishing twin black daggers.
"hey stop stealing my stuff!" Bolton said.
The rogue responded with an inept slash of a dagger. With a frightened flurry of pan blows Bolton had brought the rogue to the ground.
Now Bolton fretted. Many a doppler murdered with impunity, but Bolton never wished to do anything more than avoid trouble. He could read minds, yet he refused to. It spoiled the fun of meeting people, and knowing them. Due to this aversion to murder Bolton now stood paralyzed, unable to think of what to do with this body.
He began to poke at the stocky form, when he heard a firm knock emanating from behind his wood door.
"Durin, you oaf, you've been gone hours, what's going on."
Without really thinking Bolton became Durin. With a slam Barrin the Paladin opened the door and saw two Durins, one wearing simple clothes, the other armor. One wielded Durin's black steel knives, the other a bloodied cast iron pan.
"What's going on here?" Barrin asked.
"well um, see I fell asleep here in this cave, and then this doppleganger tried to steal my armor and knives and so I had to beat him with this frying pan?" Said Bolton.
The paladin smirked.
"I see, well good job. Now come on. We've got some ruins to explore. And next time maybe don't rob a domicile if you aren't sure it is abandoned." Barrin said.
Reluctantly, Bolton donned the dead Durrin's armor, and tools. After the paladin buried Durin, and planted a plank in the ground. The dopple busied himself inside preparing his house to be left, and Barrin wrote with a peice of charcoal from his pouch.
"here lies, Durin, a theif, a rat bastard, and a betrayer. He got himself killed robbing a good man." He wrote.
With a cool wisp of the wind following them, the newly minted Bolton/Durrin followed Barrin, not sure of the golden Haired human's destination, and worrying deeply of the state of his garden.
| |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | "GREETINGS FELLOW ADVENTURING HUMANS!" Boomed the voice of Danny the Elf sat bolt upright from the sleeping cloth sack she had been in, causing Bob the Barbarian to grunt and curl up under his animal hide sleeping rug again.
"IT IS I, YOUR GOOD FRIEND DAN, I AM UNHARMED AFTER MY ENCOUNTER WITH THE DAEMON!" She continued smiling oddly, her mouth breaking into a wide grin with teeth and her eyebrows actually elevating.
"Dann...." Feldspar the half-elf warlock managed to stop himself from saying Danny, "You told us this before, remember?"
Danny the Elf blinked, everything was always so terribly confusing, having come from a dimension that didn't have time it had to learn about things happening and things that had happened, Makor the Cleric had helped with that, teaching the snow elf about how things happen and can't be changed but things that haven't happened yet can be altered.
"OH YES FRIEND!" Danny laughed as if it was a running joke, Sim the halfling thief/bard laughed a little as well in sympathy or perhaps enjoyment.
"WHERE ARE WE GOING TODAY? WILL THERE BE MORE EXCELLENT FERMENTED YEAST PRODUCTS TO CONSUME?"
Makor nodded slowly, "That's right Dan, more beer at the end of the adventure, now how did we get back the entrance avoiding the dragon, getting the treasure and nobody getting hurt?"
"OF COURSE FRIEND! THIS IS A THING THAT HAPPENED ALREADY AFTER ALL!" Danny confirmed with the group as each of them nodded in agreement pressing in to listen carefully to Danny.
"FIRSTLY, WE LEFT THE ROOM BY THE SOUTH ENTRANCE, SIM DISABLED THE PIT TRAP AFTER FALLING INTO IT AND DYING THE FIRST TIME HE TRIED." Danny started to explain.
Sim frowned a little looking towards the South entrance, he'd died; again, if 'Dan' hadn't told him about the pit trap or the acid or the undercooked chicken or ... he was incredibly glad that 'Dan' had changed so dramatically since that encounter with the demon.
"THE TREASURE IS MOSTLY CURSED AND FELDSPAR CHANGED INTO A SHEEP WHEN HE PICKED UP A STAFF THEN A STATUE AS HE TOUCHED THE CURSED DIAMOND AS LARGE AS HIS FIST AND THEN WAS KILLED AS HE PICKED UP A CROWN." Danny continued as Feldspar took careful notes, the warlock couldn't remember the last time he'd bothered to cast identification or detect item status.
Feldspar liked whatever was living inside Danny, even when the party wasn't using it as a cheap way to complete adventures the Elf was nicer, kinder and fun to listen to, with her soft voice always shouting it was hard not to giggle at her.
"THEN AS WE LEAVE THE REAL MAKOR ATTACKS THE FAKE ONE CURRENTLY TRAVELLING WITH US AND IS EASILY DEFEATED." Danny concluded smiling proudly.
Makor looked around the group as for a moment he was sure that his plan had been ruined, they must know, it was just said aloud.
Sim however was fiddling with his lock picks, clearly fully distracted, Feldspar was already in a meditative trance memorising spells.
Bob smiled widely at Makor and Danny before speaking in his native tongue, "What did she say then? Sounded like bad news for you, Feldspar and Sim..."
Makor nodded with a rush of relief as Bob wondered how many more times he could possibly pass that particular lie your face off check. | Bolton the doppelganger did not want to be an adventurer. He wanted to live quietly, and bake cookies. He grew tired of the constant hustle and bustle of morphing into people, committing crimes because no one trusted the Doppleganger kind. He figured his secluded life in the hills might buy him peace.
The rogue laid on his floor, blood oozing from the pan shaped dent on his forehead. The doppleganger held his frying pan, a pained look on his face.
"I didn't mean to kill you..." he muttered, letting the pan fall to the ground, and burying his smooth black face in his long alien fingers.
Bolton had awoken to the sounds of someone rummaging through his dresser. Without really thinking he'd lifted his trusty frying pan, and crept up on the black cloaked figure. The rogue, a stout fat dwarf turned and snarled at him bradishing twin black daggers.
"hey stop stealing my stuff!" Bolton said.
The rogue responded with an inept slash of a dagger. With a frightened flurry of pan blows Bolton had brought the rogue to the ground.
Now Bolton fretted. Many a doppler murdered with impunity, but Bolton never wished to do anything more than avoid trouble. He could read minds, yet he refused to. It spoiled the fun of meeting people, and knowing them. Due to this aversion to murder Bolton now stood paralyzed, unable to think of what to do with this body.
He began to poke at the stocky form, when he heard a firm knock emanating from behind his wood door.
"Durin, you oaf, you've been gone hours, what's going on."
Without really thinking Bolton became Durin. With a slam Barrin the Paladin opened the door and saw two Durins, one wearing simple clothes, the other armor. One wielded Durin's black steel knives, the other a bloodied cast iron pan.
"What's going on here?" Barrin asked.
"well um, see I fell asleep here in this cave, and then this doppleganger tried to steal my armor and knives and so I had to beat him with this frying pan?" Said Bolton.
The paladin smirked.
"I see, well good job. Now come on. We've got some ruins to explore. And next time maybe don't rob a domicile if you aren't sure it is abandoned." Barrin said.
Reluctantly, Bolton donned the dead Durrin's armor, and tools. After the paladin buried Durin, and planted a plank in the ground. The dopple busied himself inside preparing his house to be left, and Barrin wrote with a peice of charcoal from his pouch.
"here lies, Durin, a theif, a rat bastard, and a betrayer. He got himself killed robbing a good man." He wrote.
With a cool wisp of the wind following them, the newly minted Bolton/Durrin followed Barrin, not sure of the golden Haired human's destination, and worrying deeply of the state of his garden.
| |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | Theldon – or at least the creature that was wearing his face – looked pale in the light of the campfire. As the wood crackled and burned, he chewed his lower lip, gathering his courage to speak.
“Guys … I … I have something to tell you,” he managed.
His three traveling companions looked at him. Vanariel snapped her spellbook shut and drew her staff. “What is it? An ambush? I told you guys I saw goblin-sign back there!”
“No, no! Not goblins!” Theldon said, holding his hands out. “It’s … it’s about me.”
Shiny Pete smirked. “What? You got the whore’s itch or something? Nothing to be ashamed of, buddy. Happened to us all once or twice.”
Dagmar glowered at the rogue from under bushy eyebrows. “Or mayhap a good number of times more than that.”
“No! It's not a disease either! It’s just …” Theldon took a deep breath. “Guys … I’m … I’m a doppelganger."
The three of them shared a long look, and then Vanariel and Shiny Pete burst out laughing. Dagmar’s glower deepened. “That’s no’ funny, lad,” he growled.
Vanariel and Shiny Pete stopped laughing. “Wait, wait,” the rogue said, “Dagmar, you didn’t *know?*”
Theldon looked shocked. “Wait, you guys *knew?*”
The elven woman tittered. “You’re not the shapeshifter you think you are. The real Theldon was an asshole.”
“Total dickwad,” Shiny Pete agreed. “In, like, every conceivable way.”
Dagmar leapt to his feet, drawing his axe. “You mean this is no’ a joke?” he roared, advancing on Theldon. “Die, fiend!”
As one, Vanariel and Shiny Pete placed themselves between the enraged dwarf and the doppleganger. “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Shiny Pete yelled. “This might not be the original Theldon, but he’s been with us for almost a year now. He was the guy who stood over you after you got paralyzed by a ghoul.”
“He took point when we fought that dragon,” Vanariel continued.
“Hell, he got in the face of evil sorcerer while you were busy chopping up his henchmen,” Shiny Pete added.
“Those henchmen represented a serious threat!” Dagmar retorted, “And it was no' like it was a full-grown dragon. Only a wee one!”
In unison, Valariel and Shiny Pete rolled their eyes. Dagmar glowered some more. He was good at it, and he liked to play to his strengths. At last the dwarf made a humphing noise and lowered his axe. Valariel sat down and opened her spellbook again. “Okay, that’s over right? We can get back to the adventuring?”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Pete said. Dagmar only grunted.
“Did you guys really know?” Theldon asked, still somewhat wary of the dwarf.
“Oh, yeah. I mean, it was kind of suspicious how he was dying of jungle rot one day and completely fine the next. But you’re really not much like the original Theldon at all. First of all, you’re actually useful in combat. And second of all, you’re a decent guy. I mean, I can have an ale with you and not worry that you’re going to stiff me on the check,” Pete said.
“Or stare at my tits while I’m trancing. Or grab my ass when I’m trying to brew potions,” Vanariel added. “And the ear jokes. Ugh, the original Theldon was such a creep. Why did we even keep him around?”
"Good question," Pete said. "I mean, I asked myself that a bunch of times after we got new Theldon. 'Why did we even keep that tool around in the first place?'"
“So you guys don’t even care that I’m a shapeshifter?”
“Not really, no,” Pete said. “I worked with lots of different people when I was in the Thieves’ Guild. Changelings weren’t any more likely to try killing me in my sleep than humans or half-elves. In my experience, everyone’s pretty human when you get down to it.”
“Hey! Speak for yourself, round-ears,” Vanariel said with half of a smile. “But nevertheless, I agree with the sentiment.”
“Oh,” Theldon said. He sat in own thoughts for a moment. “Thanks, guys. That means a lot to me.”
“Don’t mention it,” Pete said, and Vanariel nodded in agreement.
The evening passed in silence. Shiny Pete honed his daggers, and Vanariel memorized her spells. Dagmar and Theldon each sat in silence, alone with his thoughts.
At last the dwarf spoke. “Lad,” he asked the doppleganger, “have you ever tried maybe not being a shapeshifter?”
| Bolton the doppelganger did not want to be an adventurer. He wanted to live quietly, and bake cookies. He grew tired of the constant hustle and bustle of morphing into people, committing crimes because no one trusted the Doppleganger kind. He figured his secluded life in the hills might buy him peace.
The rogue laid on his floor, blood oozing from the pan shaped dent on his forehead. The doppleganger held his frying pan, a pained look on his face.
"I didn't mean to kill you..." he muttered, letting the pan fall to the ground, and burying his smooth black face in his long alien fingers.
Bolton had awoken to the sounds of someone rummaging through his dresser. Without really thinking he'd lifted his trusty frying pan, and crept up on the black cloaked figure. The rogue, a stout fat dwarf turned and snarled at him bradishing twin black daggers.
"hey stop stealing my stuff!" Bolton said.
The rogue responded with an inept slash of a dagger. With a frightened flurry of pan blows Bolton had brought the rogue to the ground.
Now Bolton fretted. Many a doppler murdered with impunity, but Bolton never wished to do anything more than avoid trouble. He could read minds, yet he refused to. It spoiled the fun of meeting people, and knowing them. Due to this aversion to murder Bolton now stood paralyzed, unable to think of what to do with this body.
He began to poke at the stocky form, when he heard a firm knock emanating from behind his wood door.
"Durin, you oaf, you've been gone hours, what's going on."
Without really thinking Bolton became Durin. With a slam Barrin the Paladin opened the door and saw two Durins, one wearing simple clothes, the other armor. One wielded Durin's black steel knives, the other a bloodied cast iron pan.
"What's going on here?" Barrin asked.
"well um, see I fell asleep here in this cave, and then this doppleganger tried to steal my armor and knives and so I had to beat him with this frying pan?" Said Bolton.
The paladin smirked.
"I see, well good job. Now come on. We've got some ruins to explore. And next time maybe don't rob a domicile if you aren't sure it is abandoned." Barrin said.
Reluctantly, Bolton donned the dead Durrin's armor, and tools. After the paladin buried Durin, and planted a plank in the ground. The dopple busied himself inside preparing his house to be left, and Barrin wrote with a peice of charcoal from his pouch.
"here lies, Durin, a theif, a rat bastard, and a betrayer. He got himself killed robbing a good man." He wrote.
With a cool wisp of the wind following them, the newly minted Bolton/Durrin followed Barrin, not sure of the golden Haired human's destination, and worrying deeply of the state of his garden.
| |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | Theldon – or at least the creature that was wearing his face – looked pale in the light of the campfire. As the wood crackled and burned, he chewed his lower lip, gathering his courage to speak.
“Guys … I … I have something to tell you,” he managed.
His three traveling companions looked at him. Vanariel snapped her spellbook shut and drew her staff. “What is it? An ambush? I told you guys I saw goblin-sign back there!”
“No, no! Not goblins!” Theldon said, holding his hands out. “It’s … it’s about me.”
Shiny Pete smirked. “What? You got the whore’s itch or something? Nothing to be ashamed of, buddy. Happened to us all once or twice.”
Dagmar glowered at the rogue from under bushy eyebrows. “Or mayhap a good number of times more than that.”
“No! It's not a disease either! It’s just …” Theldon took a deep breath. “Guys … I’m … I’m a doppelganger."
The three of them shared a long look, and then Vanariel and Shiny Pete burst out laughing. Dagmar’s glower deepened. “That’s no’ funny, lad,” he growled.
Vanariel and Shiny Pete stopped laughing. “Wait, wait,” the rogue said, “Dagmar, you didn’t *know?*”
Theldon looked shocked. “Wait, you guys *knew?*”
The elven woman tittered. “You’re not the shapeshifter you think you are. The real Theldon was an asshole.”
“Total dickwad,” Shiny Pete agreed. “In, like, every conceivable way.”
Dagmar leapt to his feet, drawing his axe. “You mean this is no’ a joke?” he roared, advancing on Theldon. “Die, fiend!”
As one, Vanariel and Shiny Pete placed themselves between the enraged dwarf and the doppleganger. “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Shiny Pete yelled. “This might not be the original Theldon, but he’s been with us for almost a year now. He was the guy who stood over you after you got paralyzed by a ghoul.”
“He took point when we fought that dragon,” Vanariel continued.
“Hell, he got in the face of evil sorcerer while you were busy chopping up his henchmen,” Shiny Pete added.
“Those henchmen represented a serious threat!” Dagmar retorted, “And it was no' like it was a full-grown dragon. Only a wee one!”
In unison, Valariel and Shiny Pete rolled their eyes. Dagmar glowered some more. He was good at it, and he liked to play to his strengths. At last the dwarf made a humphing noise and lowered his axe. Valariel sat down and opened her spellbook again. “Okay, that’s over right? We can get back to the adventuring?”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Pete said. Dagmar only grunted.
“Did you guys really know?” Theldon asked, still somewhat wary of the dwarf.
“Oh, yeah. I mean, it was kind of suspicious how he was dying of jungle rot one day and completely fine the next. But you’re really not much like the original Theldon at all. First of all, you’re actually useful in combat. And second of all, you’re a decent guy. I mean, I can have an ale with you and not worry that you’re going to stiff me on the check,” Pete said.
“Or stare at my tits while I’m trancing. Or grab my ass when I’m trying to brew potions,” Vanariel added. “And the ear jokes. Ugh, the original Theldon was such a creep. Why did we even keep him around?”
"Good question," Pete said. "I mean, I asked myself that a bunch of times after we got new Theldon. 'Why did we even keep that tool around in the first place?'"
“So you guys don’t even care that I’m a shapeshifter?”
“Not really, no,” Pete said. “I worked with lots of different people when I was in the Thieves’ Guild. Changelings weren’t any more likely to try killing me in my sleep than humans or half-elves. In my experience, everyone’s pretty human when you get down to it.”
“Hey! Speak for yourself, round-ears,” Vanariel said with half of a smile. “But nevertheless, I agree with the sentiment.”
“Oh,” Theldon said. He sat in own thoughts for a moment. “Thanks, guys. That means a lot to me.”
“Don’t mention it,” Pete said, and Vanariel nodded in agreement.
The evening passed in silence. Shiny Pete honed his daggers, and Vanariel memorized her spells. Dagmar and Theldon each sat in silence, alone with his thoughts.
At last the dwarf spoke. “Lad,” he asked the doppleganger, “have you ever tried maybe not being a shapeshifter?”
| Bolton the doppelganger did not want to be an adventurer. He wanted to live quietly, and bake cookies. He grew tired of the constant hustle and bustle of morphing into people, committing crimes because no one trusted the Doppleganger kind. He figured his secluded life in the hills might buy him peace.
The rogue laid on his floor, blood oozing from the pan shaped dent on his forehead. The doppleganger held his frying pan, a pained look on his face.
"I didn't mean to kill you..." he muttered, letting the pan fall to the ground, and burying his smooth black face in his long alien fingers.
Bolton had awoken to the sounds of someone rummaging through his dresser. Without really thinking he'd lifted his trusty frying pan, and crept up on the black cloaked figure. The rogue, a stout fat dwarf turned and snarled at him bradishing twin black daggers.
"hey stop stealing my stuff!" Bolton said.
The rogue responded with an inept slash of a dagger. With a frightened flurry of pan blows Bolton had brought the rogue to the ground.
Now Bolton fretted. Many a doppler murdered with impunity, but Bolton never wished to do anything more than avoid trouble. He could read minds, yet he refused to. It spoiled the fun of meeting people, and knowing them. Due to this aversion to murder Bolton now stood paralyzed, unable to think of what to do with this body.
He began to poke at the stocky form, when he heard a firm knock emanating from behind his wood door.
"Durin, you oaf, you've been gone hours, what's going on."
Without really thinking Bolton became Durin. With a slam Barrin the Paladin opened the door and saw two Durins, one wearing simple clothes, the other armor. One wielded Durin's black steel knives, the other a bloodied cast iron pan.
"What's going on here?" Barrin asked.
"well um, see I fell asleep here in this cave, and then this doppleganger tried to steal my armor and knives and so I had to beat him with this frying pan?" Said Bolton.
The paladin smirked.
"I see, well good job. Now come on. We've got some ruins to explore. And next time maybe don't rob a domicile if you aren't sure it is abandoned." Barrin said.
Reluctantly, Bolton donned the dead Durrin's armor, and tools. After the paladin buried Durin, and planted a plank in the ground. The dopple busied himself inside preparing his house to be left, and Barrin wrote with a peice of charcoal from his pouch.
"here lies, Durin, a theif, a rat bastard, and a betrayer. He got himself killed robbing a good man." He wrote.
With a cool wisp of the wind following them, the newly minted Bolton/Durrin followed Barrin, not sure of the golden Haired human's destination, and worrying deeply of the state of his garden.
| |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | Approaching the city gate, the adventurers stiffen as the guards halt their way. Of course, Mr. Nobility has to be the one to step forward and speak for the group. Marian lightly touches her bow, prepared to ready an arrow if her arrogant companion gets them into trouble again.
"Greetings, my good men. My name is Hector of the house Rellon. Do you happen to have any directions for a band of weary travelers? We seek no conflict, only a comfortable place to rest for the night."
Sora and Fiera share a look. The last time they entered a new city, he tried to march right past the guards, drawing his sword when they stopped him. They had to find accommodations in a dingy little inn outside the city gates, where the other patrons all gave the distinct impression of being criminals.
Now, though, one guard obligingly gave them directions, and Hector... Hector actually thanked him, and clapped his back like they were old friends. The guard laughed cheerfully and sent them on their way. This was wrong. Hector didn't have friends. He didn't make friends. The only reason his companions hadn't booted him was his skill in combat, which had just barely saved them from more problems than his personality had gotten them into.
That night, as Hector remained in the common room to buy another round for the crowd... an unusual act of generosity... the others gathered in the private room they'd booked.
"Do you remember earlier today, when he left to investigate that noise in the trees?" Asked Sora.
Marian nodded. "But there was nothing there."
"I know," said Sora, "But what if he liked?"
"You think he could be under someone's control?" Fiera chimed in. "I could dispel any magic that might be around him."
Sora shook his head. "I don't think it's control. He hasn't hurt us or been irrational. He's just... *different*. I think he's been replaced."
"That's pretty far-fetched." Marian's voice was skeptical.
"It's happened before," said Sora. "Not all shapeshifters are evil. Some of them just want a safe group to live among. A family. Like what we are to Hector, even though he's an asshole who doesn't deserve us."
Fiera narrowed her eyes. "How do you know so much about shapeshifters?"
Sora sighed. It was time to come clean. "Because I'm one of them. You guys didn't know the real Sora. He tried to raid my nest. Would have gotten a good part of my family killed, as well as his whole group, if I hadn't taken his place. Foolhardy bastard. His friends figured me out, though. I barely escaped, and by then I was used to this form."
"No." Fiera shook her head. "You can't just replace people. The real Hector..."
"The real Hector didn't give a toss about any of us," said Marian. "Do you really think he's worth our compassion? When was the last time he extended any to you?"
Fiera was quiet for a minute, remembering the time she'd broken a leg fighting a troll. And Hector elected to carry the troll's treasure chest out of the dungeon, leaving her to hobble after him using a giant club as a makeshift crutch. "I guess if this shapeshifter is anything like you, Sora, it's probably an improvement."
"I know I was," commented Marian. "My new parents must have known something was different, but the family got along so much better with me in her place that they never questioned it."
Fiera stood from her chair, backing toward the door. "Are you shapeshifters going to replace everybody?"
"No," said Sora and Marian simultaneously.
Sora continued. "You're a good person, Fiera. We only take the place of assholes. People whose absence would actually improve things. For everybody, not just those of us who can change our form. Trust me, Fiera." He smiled, the friendly expression that Fiera had come to find reassuring after the years they'd spent together. "You have nothing to worry about." | Bolton the doppelganger did not want to be an adventurer. He wanted to live quietly, and bake cookies. He grew tired of the constant hustle and bustle of morphing into people, committing crimes because no one trusted the Doppleganger kind. He figured his secluded life in the hills might buy him peace.
The rogue laid on his floor, blood oozing from the pan shaped dent on his forehead. The doppleganger held his frying pan, a pained look on his face.
"I didn't mean to kill you..." he muttered, letting the pan fall to the ground, and burying his smooth black face in his long alien fingers.
Bolton had awoken to the sounds of someone rummaging through his dresser. Without really thinking he'd lifted his trusty frying pan, and crept up on the black cloaked figure. The rogue, a stout fat dwarf turned and snarled at him bradishing twin black daggers.
"hey stop stealing my stuff!" Bolton said.
The rogue responded with an inept slash of a dagger. With a frightened flurry of pan blows Bolton had brought the rogue to the ground.
Now Bolton fretted. Many a doppler murdered with impunity, but Bolton never wished to do anything more than avoid trouble. He could read minds, yet he refused to. It spoiled the fun of meeting people, and knowing them. Due to this aversion to murder Bolton now stood paralyzed, unable to think of what to do with this body.
He began to poke at the stocky form, when he heard a firm knock emanating from behind his wood door.
"Durin, you oaf, you've been gone hours, what's going on."
Without really thinking Bolton became Durin. With a slam Barrin the Paladin opened the door and saw two Durins, one wearing simple clothes, the other armor. One wielded Durin's black steel knives, the other a bloodied cast iron pan.
"What's going on here?" Barrin asked.
"well um, see I fell asleep here in this cave, and then this doppleganger tried to steal my armor and knives and so I had to beat him with this frying pan?" Said Bolton.
The paladin smirked.
"I see, well good job. Now come on. We've got some ruins to explore. And next time maybe don't rob a domicile if you aren't sure it is abandoned." Barrin said.
Reluctantly, Bolton donned the dead Durrin's armor, and tools. After the paladin buried Durin, and planted a plank in the ground. The dopple busied himself inside preparing his house to be left, and Barrin wrote with a peice of charcoal from his pouch.
"here lies, Durin, a theif, a rat bastard, and a betrayer. He got himself killed robbing a good man." He wrote.
With a cool wisp of the wind following them, the newly minted Bolton/Durrin followed Barrin, not sure of the golden Haired human's destination, and worrying deeply of the state of his garden.
| |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | Approaching the city gate, the adventurers stiffen as the guards halt their way. Of course, Mr. Nobility has to be the one to step forward and speak for the group. Marian lightly touches her bow, prepared to ready an arrow if her arrogant companion gets them into trouble again.
"Greetings, my good men. My name is Hector of the house Rellon. Do you happen to have any directions for a band of weary travelers? We seek no conflict, only a comfortable place to rest for the night."
Sora and Fiera share a look. The last time they entered a new city, he tried to march right past the guards, drawing his sword when they stopped him. They had to find accommodations in a dingy little inn outside the city gates, where the other patrons all gave the distinct impression of being criminals.
Now, though, one guard obligingly gave them directions, and Hector... Hector actually thanked him, and clapped his back like they were old friends. The guard laughed cheerfully and sent them on their way. This was wrong. Hector didn't have friends. He didn't make friends. The only reason his companions hadn't booted him was his skill in combat, which had just barely saved them from more problems than his personality had gotten them into.
That night, as Hector remained in the common room to buy another round for the crowd... an unusual act of generosity... the others gathered in the private room they'd booked.
"Do you remember earlier today, when he left to investigate that noise in the trees?" Asked Sora.
Marian nodded. "But there was nothing there."
"I know," said Sora, "But what if he lied?"
"You think he could be under someone's control?" Fiera chimed in. "I could dispel any magic that might be around him."
Sora shook his head. "I don't think it's control. He hasn't hurt us or been irrational. He's just... *different*. I think he's been replaced."
"That's pretty far-fetched." Marian's voice was skeptical.
"It's happened before," said Sora. "Not all shapeshifters are evil. Some of them just want a safe group to live among. A family. Like what we are to Hector, even though he's an asshole who doesn't deserve us."
Fiera narrowed her eyes. "How do you know so much about shapeshifters?"
Sora sighed. It was time to come clean. "Because I'm one of them. You guys didn't know the real Sora. He tried to raid my nest. Would have gotten a good part of my family killed, as well as his whole group, if I hadn't taken his place. Foolhardy bastard. His friends figured me out, though. I barely escaped, and by then I was used to this form."
"No." Fiera shook her head. "You can't just replace people. The real Hector..."
"The real Hector didn't give a toss about any of us," said Marian. "Do you really think he's worth our compassion? When was the last time he extended any to you?"
Fiera was quiet for a minute, remembering the time she'd broken a leg fighting a troll. And Hector elected to carry the troll's treasure chest out of the dungeon, leaving her to hobble after him using a giant club as a makeshift crutch. "I guess if this shapeshifter is anything like you, Sora, it's probably an improvement."
"I know I was," commented Marian. "My new parents must have known something was different, but the family got along so much better with me in her place that they never questioned it."
Fiera stood from her chair, backing toward the door. "Are you shapeshifters going to replace everybody?"
"No," said Sora and Marian simultaneously.
Sora continued. "You're a good person, Fiera. We only take the place of assholes. People whose absence would actually improve things. For everybody, not just those of us who can change our form. Trust me, Fiera." He smiled, the friendly expression that Fiera had come to find reassuring after the years they'd spent together. "You have nothing to worry about."
Edit: typo | Bolton the doppelganger did not want to be an adventurer. He wanted to live quietly, and bake cookies. He grew tired of the constant hustle and bustle of morphing into people, committing crimes because no one trusted the Doppleganger kind. He figured his secluded life in the hills might buy him peace.
The rogue laid on his floor, blood oozing from the pan shaped dent on his forehead. The doppleganger held his frying pan, a pained look on his face.
"I didn't mean to kill you..." he muttered, letting the pan fall to the ground, and burying his smooth black face in his long alien fingers.
Bolton had awoken to the sounds of someone rummaging through his dresser. Without really thinking he'd lifted his trusty frying pan, and crept up on the black cloaked figure. The rogue, a stout fat dwarf turned and snarled at him bradishing twin black daggers.
"hey stop stealing my stuff!" Bolton said.
The rogue responded with an inept slash of a dagger. With a frightened flurry of pan blows Bolton had brought the rogue to the ground.
Now Bolton fretted. Many a doppler murdered with impunity, but Bolton never wished to do anything more than avoid trouble. He could read minds, yet he refused to. It spoiled the fun of meeting people, and knowing them. Due to this aversion to murder Bolton now stood paralyzed, unable to think of what to do with this body.
He began to poke at the stocky form, when he heard a firm knock emanating from behind his wood door.
"Durin, you oaf, you've been gone hours, what's going on."
Without really thinking Bolton became Durin. With a slam Barrin the Paladin opened the door and saw two Durins, one wearing simple clothes, the other armor. One wielded Durin's black steel knives, the other a bloodied cast iron pan.
"What's going on here?" Barrin asked.
"well um, see I fell asleep here in this cave, and then this doppleganger tried to steal my armor and knives and so I had to beat him with this frying pan?" Said Bolton.
The paladin smirked.
"I see, well good job. Now come on. We've got some ruins to explore. And next time maybe don't rob a domicile if you aren't sure it is abandoned." Barrin said.
Reluctantly, Bolton donned the dead Durrin's armor, and tools. After the paladin buried Durin, and planted a plank in the ground. The dopple busied himself inside preparing his house to be left, and Barrin wrote with a peice of charcoal from his pouch.
"here lies, Durin, a theif, a rat bastard, and a betrayer. He got himself killed robbing a good man." He wrote.
With a cool wisp of the wind following them, the newly minted Bolton/Durrin followed Barrin, not sure of the golden Haired human's destination, and worrying deeply of the state of his garden.
| |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | The miles between them had come and gone, leaving scars and wounds and memories and laughs. The horizon that day was clear, and the world fell into green and yellow, and far away were the mountains, and everything was cloaked in a dream. They had come far. The first peaks of Lankar shimmered in an ephemeral haze.
"We've made it," Keldar said.
"Not yet."
Annastatia was worn, cut and bruised. Her eyes had dimmed some, but even the terrors of the Void had receded for the moment. She was in the present then, looking ahead, same as them all.
None had seen the mountain before. Alton had not believed in it. Haldar had said they would die before they ever crossed the river.
Now he stared with timeless eyes, eyes which had seen things from the Darkness. Eyes which had seen the birth of his kin from the still mirror waters of the Endless Caves. Those eyes had seen more than Haldar could ever have imagined.
"I guess it does exist," Alton said.
He clapped Haldar on the back. An uneasy feeling overcame him with the touch.
*It feels like him,* he thought.
And his thought travelled in the wind of the Void, that invisible world which held all the unknown things, the things that caused madness.
"Yes," Annastatia said.
She looked at Haldar.
"What?" said Keldar.
She shook her head.
They were weary and made camp on the hill. For the days past they had slept during the day, marched in the night. Their bodies were worn and tired, a piece of them all left behind in the Grey River.
*The price was worth it,* Keldar thought.
He was an older man, a knight in youth, and now his world had gone and he was alone but for adventure.
*Is it?*
He could not answer himself and the question lingered, unanswered by even Annastatia. They were quiet there on the hill. Midday came with a scarce lunch and perfunctory talk.
"I've never been so far," said Alton.
They agreed. Home had sunk away like the dying sun, and this endless night of the unknown still had miles yet to go.
"We're alive though," Keldar said.
"Yes," Annastatia said.
They looked at Haldar. Behind those eyes were the midnight of malice. But that malice reflected the sun, and then it was blue and immediate and true.
"I made it," Haldar said. "Barely by the skin of my leather, but I made it."
In the Grey River there were ancient cliffs, hills and holes. There amidst that pocked earth lived the unknown things, the things which embraced the Darkness.
In that place Haldar had fallen into the murky waters of the Grey River and its currents had taken him.
His screams had pierced the Void then, echoing even on the hill they now camped on. Annastatia winced and she saw the time as it floated past in the forever winds of that realm.
"Help!" Haldar cried.
Her hand held her staff. Every inch of her was prepared to hold it for him to grab on to. She saw it happening, feeling his weight and the rescue. And yet she hesitated.
"Help!"
She had remembered the times before. His hand caressing hers, teasing some unwanted strength, threatening in the vaguest of ways. And even then his thoughts were certain of his foul desire.
And so the river had taken him and they all had watched. They had let it happen as the waters surrounded him in an opaque cover, the burial of some unwanted pest, and they feigned the mourning as all good friends should do.
Then they were three.
But he had come back. The first trees were tall and skinny and gave little shade. Their slanting shadows were bars as they passed, looking like prisoners in a dream world, and then from that shifting prison, Haldar had come, wet and worn. The Grey River had taken much from him, he said, and he was different, completely different.
"I left more of my soul there than you," he said.
They looked at him and knew what he was, or what he wasn't. That night they discussed it in secret, and decided they would bide time before doing what must be done.
Three days had passed since then, but that time still had not come.
Sleep overcame them and they rested awhile. The falling sun awoke them to a red and orange sky and their shadows spilled past the hill.
"Statia," Alton said.
He was stretching.
"Yes?"
"I've had a bad dream. Worse than any of the others before."
"Was it of your past? The stealing in your mother's house?"
"No. No it was..."
She saw his face. She touched his head and the after images of the fading dream kindled within her.
Haldar stared beneath a blackened sky, alone and afraid. All around a great water rushed him, surrounding him with its endless sound.
The dream faded and she recoiled.
"I... I have no remedy," she said.
She looked at Haldar. The thing which pretended to be him looked at her and smiled. Though shifters like him were not connected as strongly to the Void, she could feel his thoughts in the air, like some distant food that has long been eaten.
*He means me no malice. Not like his...*
Victim. But she could not say the word.
Keldar walked to Haldar and put his hand on his shoulder.
"How is your wound?"
"Better now," Haldar said.
*He feels the same*, Keldar thought. *He really does.*
Then they packed their things and prepared for another night of walking. Lankar glittered in the night like some crystal, and yet soft as home's bed sheets on a cold night.
"What's there again?" Haldar asked.
He looked at them to see if any suspected. He thought they did. He thought he should kill them, but living in the black had not tainted his heart.
*Never have I seen such beauty as her.*
And in the moonlight Annastatia was some Queen, the kind of which no longer walks this world. Some distant being, ghost-like and tender, and yet strong and hardy with eyes opened into the real world.
*But she is Keldar's.*
And he felt sad. He felt the light on him and looked up.
*I should kill them and have her to myself.*
But she would die first before such things could happen. She would kill him then surely. They already considered the deed. He closed his eyes. The light painted him with a warmth the others could not feel.
*They have not lived in the dark,* he thought. *They are human. Weak and ignorant of the Dark, for they know not of such things.*
"Lankar," Alton said. "The mountain of Dreams. There, as legend goes, is the Spring of Dreaming. One sip of its water will change you. It will make whatever is in your heart come true."
"It can change the world physically?"
"No," said Annastatia. "But it will change *you*. It will change the spirit so that what you hold dearest will come true in a way of its own. It is not a place of wishes."
"It is like the Grey River then?" Haldar asked.
"Yes, in a sense. But it does not take. It gives and cleanses."
Then they were quiet. In their hearts they were uneasy. Haldar's death weighed immensely on them.
*The Spring will clean me,* Keldar thought.
Annastatia held him. Her face was pretty in the white light and he looked at her and loved her anew once more. He put his arm around her.
*I am an evil man,* he thought.
She looked at him with those sad eyes of hers.
*If that be true, then so are we all my love.*
He squeezed her hand.
*What hope is there then? This guilt weighs too heavy on me.*
*The Spring, as you've thought. The Spring is our only hope. Haldar was a fool. The River took him of its own choosing. His heart was black, blacker than this imposter.*
"I like you," Alton said to Haldar. "I don't know if you understand, but I'll be truthful. I like you."
And Haldar, the thing, understood as much. It too had thoughts that raged in an incomprehensible storm.
"I like you too," he said. "All of you."
"Then may the Spring save us," Keldar said.
And they marched in silence as the night slowly passed.
-
*Hi there! If you liked this story, please consider my subreddit r/PanMan. It has all my WP stories as well as some original ones. I'm slowly working on it and getting it to look nicer, so I promise it will look better soon. Thank you!* | Bolton the doppelganger did not want to be an adventurer. He wanted to live quietly, and bake cookies. He grew tired of the constant hustle and bustle of morphing into people, committing crimes because no one trusted the Doppleganger kind. He figured his secluded life in the hills might buy him peace.
The rogue laid on his floor, blood oozing from the pan shaped dent on his forehead. The doppleganger held his frying pan, a pained look on his face.
"I didn't mean to kill you..." he muttered, letting the pan fall to the ground, and burying his smooth black face in his long alien fingers.
Bolton had awoken to the sounds of someone rummaging through his dresser. Without really thinking he'd lifted his trusty frying pan, and crept up on the black cloaked figure. The rogue, a stout fat dwarf turned and snarled at him bradishing twin black daggers.
"hey stop stealing my stuff!" Bolton said.
The rogue responded with an inept slash of a dagger. With a frightened flurry of pan blows Bolton had brought the rogue to the ground.
Now Bolton fretted. Many a doppler murdered with impunity, but Bolton never wished to do anything more than avoid trouble. He could read minds, yet he refused to. It spoiled the fun of meeting people, and knowing them. Due to this aversion to murder Bolton now stood paralyzed, unable to think of what to do with this body.
He began to poke at the stocky form, when he heard a firm knock emanating from behind his wood door.
"Durin, you oaf, you've been gone hours, what's going on."
Without really thinking Bolton became Durin. With a slam Barrin the Paladin opened the door and saw two Durins, one wearing simple clothes, the other armor. One wielded Durin's black steel knives, the other a bloodied cast iron pan.
"What's going on here?" Barrin asked.
"well um, see I fell asleep here in this cave, and then this doppleganger tried to steal my armor and knives and so I had to beat him with this frying pan?" Said Bolton.
The paladin smirked.
"I see, well good job. Now come on. We've got some ruins to explore. And next time maybe don't rob a domicile if you aren't sure it is abandoned." Barrin said.
Reluctantly, Bolton donned the dead Durrin's armor, and tools. After the paladin buried Durin, and planted a plank in the ground. The dopple busied himself inside preparing his house to be left, and Barrin wrote with a peice of charcoal from his pouch.
"here lies, Durin, a theif, a rat bastard, and a betrayer. He got himself killed robbing a good man." He wrote.
With a cool wisp of the wind following them, the newly minted Bolton/Durrin followed Barrin, not sure of the golden Haired human's destination, and worrying deeply of the state of his garden.
| |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | "That was..." Brawg began, staggering over the bodies of the fallen goblins, his boots squelching in the treacle-like blood.
"Far too..." said Vesperr, returning her bow to her back, and beginning to pluck out arrows from the deceased enemies.
"Oxyrin!" finished Oxyrin, his pointed hat falling over his eyes once again. Dribble oozed down from his mouth and his pupils spun this way and that, as if two compasses confused by magnets.
Brawg and Vesperr looked at each other for a moment, then burst out laughing. Brawg brought a thunderous hand down on the wizard's back. "Don't ever change, Oxyrin!" he said.
"Oh, Oxyrin," grinned Vesperr, "you're the reason we do this, you know? For that smile on your face." She wiped away a the spittle from his lips, then shook her finger, sending the spit plopping onto the ground.
"Oxyrin!" Oxyrin repeated. A pointed tongue darted out of his mouth and latched onto a fly that was hovering over a brutalised body below.
"I'm going to pretend I didn't just see that," said Brawg with a wink. "Okay gang, I'd say we're all done here. I believe its time to go collect our reward."
"Not so fast, my friends," came a mysterious voice from behind them. Only, when they turned, there was *nothing* behind them.
Slowly, the blue-robed wizard hazed into existence. "It is I, the *real* Oxyrin! I have been trapped for the longest time, but I have finally outsmarted my captors and have returned to my friends. For no one is as clever as the Great Oxyrin!"
Brawg and Vesperr glanced at each other, then let out a joint gasp.
"Quite you might gasp," said Oxyrin, as he turned and pointed an accusing finger at the other blue wizard, who was now on all fours chasing after a spider. "For that fellow, has fooled you, my dear friends. But he is nothing more than an impostor! A Doppelganger! A fake, a fraud, and dare I say it, a phoney."
Brawg nudged Vesperr and they both gasped again.
"How.. erm, how can we believe you?" asked Vesperr, her top lip wet with nervous sweat. "How do we know he--"she pointed to the to the wizard, who was now chewing on something--"isn't the real Oxyrin. After all, he would have had to fool us both for two entire years."
Oxyrin rolled his eyes. "Hardly a challenging task. You two never were the"--his hands burst into blue flames--"brightest sparks. Ha. Hahaha."
Brawg's muscles tensed. Vesperr put a hand against his chest.
"That's not proof enough. For our Oxyrin can also do such petty parlour tricks."
"Very well," Oxyrin sighed, "I shall prove it. We shall have a wizard-off."
"Smart," said Vesperr. She let out a high pitched whistle, at which the other Oxyrin came bounding over to her.
"Oxyrin!" he sputtered as he arrived.
"Is that all he can say? How could you *possibly* believe he was me?"
"Good point," said Brawg. "His vocabulary is much larger."
"Oh. You made a joke. How very amusing."
"Okay," said Vesperr. "Round one of the wizard-off. *Shape-shifting.*"
"What? What a stupid round," complained Oxyrin, "for sniffing out a shape-shifter!" His face was red and a vein popped out of his forehead, pulsating like waves on the ocean. "Unbelievable idiocy. How you have possibly survived this long without me to guide you -- heaven only knows!"
"Oxyrin!" replied the other Oxyrin.
"Well, if you can't do it and he can..." said Brawg shrugging, "then I guess we know who the real wizard is."
"Oh... *pish!* Very well. And what must we change into, pray tell?"
"Something very small. To really challenge your morphitisation skills. A fly. Simple. First one to transform into a fly wins."
"Sala kazoo, Sala kazam!" shouted Oxyrin. There was a puff of smoke that left Vesperr and Brawg coughing. As it cleared, and only for the briefest moment, they saw a fly. Then, they saw a huge, pointed tongue. Finally, they saw an Oxyrin chewing on and then swallowing *something*.
"Oxyrin!" he shouted triumphantly, as Brawg and Vesperr collapsed into a fit of laughter.
"Oh Oxyrin," said Brawg, slapping him on the back "you really are too much."
"And," said Vesperr, "we wouldn't have it any other way!"
| Bolton the doppelganger did not want to be an adventurer. He wanted to live quietly, and bake cookies. He grew tired of the constant hustle and bustle of morphing into people, committing crimes because no one trusted the Doppleganger kind. He figured his secluded life in the hills might buy him peace.
The rogue laid on his floor, blood oozing from the pan shaped dent on his forehead. The doppleganger held his frying pan, a pained look on his face.
"I didn't mean to kill you..." he muttered, letting the pan fall to the ground, and burying his smooth black face in his long alien fingers.
Bolton had awoken to the sounds of someone rummaging through his dresser. Without really thinking he'd lifted his trusty frying pan, and crept up on the black cloaked figure. The rogue, a stout fat dwarf turned and snarled at him bradishing twin black daggers.
"hey stop stealing my stuff!" Bolton said.
The rogue responded with an inept slash of a dagger. With a frightened flurry of pan blows Bolton had brought the rogue to the ground.
Now Bolton fretted. Many a doppler murdered with impunity, but Bolton never wished to do anything more than avoid trouble. He could read minds, yet he refused to. It spoiled the fun of meeting people, and knowing them. Due to this aversion to murder Bolton now stood paralyzed, unable to think of what to do with this body.
He began to poke at the stocky form, when he heard a firm knock emanating from behind his wood door.
"Durin, you oaf, you've been gone hours, what's going on."
Without really thinking Bolton became Durin. With a slam Barrin the Paladin opened the door and saw two Durins, one wearing simple clothes, the other armor. One wielded Durin's black steel knives, the other a bloodied cast iron pan.
"What's going on here?" Barrin asked.
"well um, see I fell asleep here in this cave, and then this doppleganger tried to steal my armor and knives and so I had to beat him with this frying pan?" Said Bolton.
The paladin smirked.
"I see, well good job. Now come on. We've got some ruins to explore. And next time maybe don't rob a domicile if you aren't sure it is abandoned." Barrin said.
Reluctantly, Bolton donned the dead Durrin's armor, and tools. After the paladin buried Durin, and planted a plank in the ground. The dopple busied himself inside preparing his house to be left, and Barrin wrote with a peice of charcoal from his pouch.
"here lies, Durin, a theif, a rat bastard, and a betrayer. He got himself killed robbing a good man." He wrote.
With a cool wisp of the wind following them, the newly minted Bolton/Durrin followed Barrin, not sure of the golden Haired human's destination, and worrying deeply of the state of his garden.
| |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | "That was..." Brawg began, staggering over the bodies of the fallen goblins, his boots squelching in the treacle-like blood.
"Far too..." said Vesperr, returning her bow to her back, and beginning to pluck out arrows from the deceased enemies.
"Oxyrin!" finished Oxyrin, his pointed hat falling over his eyes once again. Dribble oozed down from his mouth and his pupils spun this way and that, as if two compasses confused by magnets.
Brawg and Vesperr looked at each other for a moment, then burst out laughing. Brawg brought a thunderous hand down on the wizard's back. "Don't ever change, Oxyrin!" he said.
"Oh, Oxyrin," grinned Vesperr, "you're the reason we do this, you know? For that smile on your face." She wiped away a the spittle from his lips, then shook her finger, sending the spit plopping onto the ground.
"Oxyrin!" Oxyrin repeated. A pointed tongue darted out of his mouth and latched onto a fly that was hovering over a brutalised body below.
"I'm going to pretend I didn't just see that," said Brawg with a wink. "Okay gang, I'd say we're all done here. I believe its time to go collect our reward."
"Not so fast, my friends," came a mysterious voice from behind them. Only, when they turned, there was *nothing* behind them.
Slowly, the blue-robed wizard hazed into existence. "It is I, the *real* Oxyrin! I have been trapped for the longest time, but I have finally outsmarted my captors and have returned to my friends. For no one is as clever as the Great Oxyrin!"
Brawg and Vesperr glanced at each other, then let out a joint gasp.
"Quite you might gasp," said Oxyrin, as he turned and pointed an accusing finger at the other blue wizard, who was now on all fours chasing after a spider. "For that fellow, has fooled you, my dear friends. But he is nothing more than an impostor! A Doppelganger! A fake, a fraud, and dare I say it, a phoney."
Brawg nudged Vesperr and they both gasped again.
"How.. erm, how can we believe you?" asked Vesperr, her top lip wet with nervous sweat. "How do we know he--"she pointed to the to the wizard, who was now chewing on something--"isn't the real Oxyrin. After all, he would have had to fool us both for two entire years."
Oxyrin rolled his eyes. "Hardly a challenging task. You two never were the"--his hands burst into blue flames--"brightest sparks. Ha. Hahaha."
Brawg's muscles tensed. Vesperr put a hand against his chest.
"That's not proof enough. For our Oxyrin can also do such petty parlour tricks."
"Very well," Oxyrin sighed, "I shall prove it. We shall have a wizard-off."
"Smart," said Vesperr. She let out a high pitched whistle, at which the other Oxyrin came bounding over to her.
"Oxyrin!" he sputtered as he arrived.
"Is that all he can say? How could you *possibly* believe he was me?"
"Good point," said Brawg. "His vocabulary is much larger."
"Oh. You made a joke. How very amusing."
"Okay," said Vesperr. "Round one of the wizard-off. *Shape-shifting.*"
"What? What a stupid round," complained Oxyrin, "for sniffing out a shape-shifter!" His face was red and a vein popped out of his forehead, pulsating like waves on the ocean. "Unbelievable idiocy. How you have possibly survived this long without me to guide you -- heaven only knows!"
"Oxyrin!" replied the other Oxyrin.
"Well, if you can't do it and he can..." said Brawg shrugging, "then I guess we know who the real wizard is."
"Oh... *pish!* Very well. And what must we change into, pray tell?"
"Something very small. To really challenge your morphitisation skills. A fly. Simple. First one to transform into a fly wins."
"Sala kazoo, Sala kazam!" shouted Oxyrin. There was a puff of smoke that left Vesperr and Brawg coughing. As it cleared, and only for the briefest moment, they saw a fly. Then, they saw a huge, pointed tongue. Finally, they saw an Oxyrin chewing on and then swallowing *something*.
"Oxyrin!" he shouted triumphantly, as Brawg and Vesperr collapsed into a fit of laughter.
"Oh Oxyrin," said Brawg, slapping him on the back "you really are too much."
"And," said Vesperr, "we wouldn't have it any other way!"
| Bolton the doppelganger did not want to be an adventurer. He wanted to live quietly, and bake cookies. He grew tired of the constant hustle and bustle of morphing into people, committing crimes because no one trusted the Doppleganger kind. He figured his secluded life in the hills might buy him peace.
The rogue laid on his floor, blood oozing from the pan shaped dent on his forehead. The doppleganger held his frying pan, a pained look on his face.
"I didn't mean to kill you..." he muttered, letting the pan fall to the ground, and burying his smooth black face in his long alien fingers.
Bolton had awoken to the sounds of someone rummaging through his dresser. Without really thinking he'd lifted his trusty frying pan, and crept up on the black cloaked figure. The rogue, a stout fat dwarf turned and snarled at him bradishing twin black daggers.
"hey stop stealing my stuff!" Bolton said.
The rogue responded with an inept slash of a dagger. With a frightened flurry of pan blows Bolton had brought the rogue to the ground.
Now Bolton fretted. Many a doppler murdered with impunity, but Bolton never wished to do anything more than avoid trouble. He could read minds, yet he refused to. It spoiled the fun of meeting people, and knowing them. Due to this aversion to murder Bolton now stood paralyzed, unable to think of what to do with this body.
He began to poke at the stocky form, when he heard a firm knock emanating from behind his wood door.
"Durin, you oaf, you've been gone hours, what's going on."
Without really thinking Bolton became Durin. With a slam Barrin the Paladin opened the door and saw two Durins, one wearing simple clothes, the other armor. One wielded Durin's black steel knives, the other a bloodied cast iron pan.
"What's going on here?" Barrin asked.
"well um, see I fell asleep here in this cave, and then this doppleganger tried to steal my armor and knives and so I had to beat him with this frying pan?" Said Bolton.
The paladin smirked.
"I see, well good job. Now come on. We've got some ruins to explore. And next time maybe don't rob a domicile if you aren't sure it is abandoned." Barrin said.
Reluctantly, Bolton donned the dead Durrin's armor, and tools. After the paladin buried Durin, and planted a plank in the ground. The dopple busied himself inside preparing his house to be left, and Barrin wrote with a peice of charcoal from his pouch.
"here lies, Durin, a theif, a rat bastard, and a betrayer. He got himself killed robbing a good man." He wrote.
With a cool wisp of the wind following them, the newly minted Bolton/Durrin followed Barrin, not sure of the golden Haired human's destination, and worrying deeply of the state of his garden.
| |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | "A fine...mead?!" Rorik shouts over the din of the tavern. His companions smile and nod along with him as he sings some old barbarian tune.
Sings it wrong. They don't tell him that though.
Delia, the group's cleric leans over to their mage.
"Do you think he knows?"
Melvar just shakes his head and holds out a palm towards their massive friend. Friend as of lately, of course. Rorik was a massive pain for the group long before the shifter stole his face.
"He definitely doesn't but...I think I like him. Rorik was a bit of a jerk, always running off into the dungeons with that stupid battlecry. Remember when we went into the Crypt of Alohar, how many good people did he get killed?"
"Yeah...he's kinda cute now. Like a child or something."
They both watch Rorik move around the tavern with his mug and talk to other groups of adventurers. He's loud but not overbearing. He listens to the stories of others instead of telling his own. He drinks but not to excess. He is nothing like the barbarian they all had come to know and...
Melvar doesn't quite finish the thought.
"You know what Del, I like him. I know he's a shifter but look at everyone. We all know and he's trying so hard to be like Rorik but he just can't. I don't think there's a mean bone in that thing's body. You know that he hasn't made fun of my beard once, not in months."
She snorts. The young mage was trying so hard to grow it out and he'd been self-conscious about it for months.
A warrior passing by their table to his own party leans over and whispers it to the pair.
"You should keep him. He's an improvement."
"Friends!" Rorik shouts, sitting again at their table, "What fun! And we do this between every adventure? And people give us gold to go on those adventures? To spend here? Amazing!"
He is off again before they can even respond.
"Do you think The Dwarf knows?" Melvar watches Rorik join another random group of adventures and sing yet another song. Still wrong.
Delia shrugs.
"I don't know and I don't care. We're gonna keep him. He's like a dog or something. But useful."
Melvar strokes his "beard" for a moment.
"Alright, we'll keep him. But I swear if he ever makes fun of my beard-"
"What? You'll strangle him with one of your wisps? You should really shave, you're looking more like a magical hobo than a wizard. 'I cast: smell of unwashedness!'"
As she walks away laughing at her own joke Melvar narrows his eyes. He lifts his mug and mutters something into it before drinking.
"I'll replace you too if I have to..." | Bolton the doppelganger did not want to be an adventurer. He wanted to live quietly, and bake cookies. He grew tired of the constant hustle and bustle of morphing into people, committing crimes because no one trusted the Doppleganger kind. He figured his secluded life in the hills might buy him peace.
The rogue laid on his floor, blood oozing from the pan shaped dent on his forehead. The doppleganger held his frying pan, a pained look on his face.
"I didn't mean to kill you..." he muttered, letting the pan fall to the ground, and burying his smooth black face in his long alien fingers.
Bolton had awoken to the sounds of someone rummaging through his dresser. Without really thinking he'd lifted his trusty frying pan, and crept up on the black cloaked figure. The rogue, a stout fat dwarf turned and snarled at him bradishing twin black daggers.
"hey stop stealing my stuff!" Bolton said.
The rogue responded with an inept slash of a dagger. With a frightened flurry of pan blows Bolton had brought the rogue to the ground.
Now Bolton fretted. Many a doppler murdered with impunity, but Bolton never wished to do anything more than avoid trouble. He could read minds, yet he refused to. It spoiled the fun of meeting people, and knowing them. Due to this aversion to murder Bolton now stood paralyzed, unable to think of what to do with this body.
He began to poke at the stocky form, when he heard a firm knock emanating from behind his wood door.
"Durin, you oaf, you've been gone hours, what's going on."
Without really thinking Bolton became Durin. With a slam Barrin the Paladin opened the door and saw two Durins, one wearing simple clothes, the other armor. One wielded Durin's black steel knives, the other a bloodied cast iron pan.
"What's going on here?" Barrin asked.
"well um, see I fell asleep here in this cave, and then this doppleganger tried to steal my armor and knives and so I had to beat him with this frying pan?" Said Bolton.
The paladin smirked.
"I see, well good job. Now come on. We've got some ruins to explore. And next time maybe don't rob a domicile if you aren't sure it is abandoned." Barrin said.
Reluctantly, Bolton donned the dead Durrin's armor, and tools. After the paladin buried Durin, and planted a plank in the ground. The dopple busied himself inside preparing his house to be left, and Barrin wrote with a peice of charcoal from his pouch.
"here lies, Durin, a theif, a rat bastard, and a betrayer. He got himself killed robbing a good man." He wrote.
With a cool wisp of the wind following them, the newly minted Bolton/Durrin followed Barrin, not sure of the golden Haired human's destination, and worrying deeply of the state of his garden.
| |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | The light was fading quickly, they needed to get camp set up. Mordram the warlock spoke an incantation, a small pile of tinder lit just below his fingertips. He began pulling some rations out of his pack. Aisha was busy praying to the setting sun, she wouldn’t help until the last glimmer of light left the western sky. Archibauld figured he’d at least use the little bugger until they decided what to do with him.
“Hey Eric, can you go get us some water from the river down there?” The orc perked up, he pointed at himself sheepishly, looking behind him to see if anyone else might be the target of the request. When he saw no one else moving, he hopped up; he immediately forgot the broken lyre that he had been trying, very unsuccessfully, to play.
“Elric fetch water? Yes, yes. Elric fetches the best water! You will see. The water for his friends! Best friends of Elric the music man!!!” He started galloping towards the river, only to have to turn back to grab the pail that he had forgotten at Archibauld’s feet.
Mordram spoke up once the orc was out of earshot, “Don’t get attached, we’ll have to do something about him soon. He’s a liability.”
Archibauld was setting up the tent, he noticed some blood stains on the yellow fabric, the original Eric had been carrying it,”He’s been following us for weeks—” Mordram’s eyebrow raised “—exactly, he wasn’t part of the ambush. He killed that bugbear once Eric went down.”
Aisha stood up, dusted off her knees, “I sense no ill will in him.”
“He’s going to slit our throats in our sleep, or bring a whole army of orcs down on us—” Mordram had set up a small pot over the fire, he just needed the water from the river.”—Also, I think it’s really creepy he’s trying to take over Eric’s identity.”
Aisha snorted, “He hasn’t hit on me a single time, so he hasn’t done that good a job.”
Archibauld moved on to his longbow, pulling out some oil and cloth, “Like I said, he’s been following us for weeks. How many times could he have tried to ambush us or bring his clan on us? I think he’s alone. Without Eric, we’re down one. The prophet said we needed four…”
Aisha jumped in, “Mordy, you didn’t even want Eric to come.”
“I don’t give a shit about Eric, he was a liability, too. I just don’t want a bloody orc staring over me while we sleep.” Mordram walked off towards the edge of camp, looking North to where they’d find their final destination.”—We do need a fourth…”
Archibauld clapped him on the shoulder, Mordram hadn’t heard him come up behind him, he hated rangers, “Thats the spirit, Mordy! We’ll have him sleep outside the tent, Aisha will let us know if she senses anything wrong with him.”
A rustle from the bushes alerted the three that their new companion was returning. He stumbled into the clearing with a full pail of water and three fish hanging from a string.
“Hullo friends of Elric my human person that I am! Hullo, Elric brings gifts of delicious fishes for eating with his best friends. Let Elric play beauty sounds while you burn delicious foods on fires because that is how humans like us eat delicious foods.” He dropped the water and fish by the fire, then hopped on his rock and began picking at the broken lyre.
Mordram exchanged a smirk with Aisha and Archibauld, “We’re very glad you’re back…Elric. Play us a human song for us to eat delicious foods.”
Elric chirped with glee, his grin taking up his whole face. | I added a little twist but I think it's still good, non the less. Here.
"AAHHH! Tavian! I need your help!"
"What can I do?"
"Ray of Frost!? Something! ANYTHING! JUST GET THIS THING OFF ME!"
A small harmless slug had fallen onto Yeralia's shoulder, while the party was traveling out of the Forest of Traggleroot. Tavian, being a Barbarian, simply flicked the slug off of her. Saviak and Prantin were watching the whole debacle take place, giggling like goblins about to botch an ambush.
“You do know I'm not an Eldritch Knight, right?”
"Thank you Tavian, I know,” she said, wiping away the slime, “I can always rely on you."
"Even when I almost sacrificed you to my gods?"
Yeralia simply forgot that ever happened.
“Well, let's let bygones be bygones, eh, Tavian?”
“That not like the Yer…”
“Uppupupup!,” Saviak interrupted, covering Tavians mouth. There was a brief pause. He continues, “We just defeated a shapeshifter! Let's go celebrate at the tavern and… Prantin can play the lute as we venture to town! Yeah, sound like a plan?”
Saviak releases Tavians mouth, “Uh.. sure! I am ready to get our reward! How about we get going? I need to mourn the loss Kenneth.”
Tavian didn't know Yeralia was actually the shapeshifter. Saviak was a smooth talker, some paladins are, and Tavian doesn't have very much intelligence, most Barbarians don't. The party walk along the path while Prantin plays his lute like a pro. He began to sing a song.
“In memory of Kenneth, the Thief that broke the rules, taught us the Cant and then was shot by the thieves guild. How bad. Sooooo saaad!”
“He didn't teach me or Yeralia Thieves Cant.” Tavian barked.
Prantin replied in singsong, “That's because you and the mage were really druuunk!”
“Oh… good point,” Tavian realized.
“Isn’t thieves cant like secret messages people can share in the open?,” said Yeralia.
“If Kenneth was here he’d say, ‘...maybe.’ I think his carefree nature is what caused the guild to turn on him.” Saviak answered. “By the way… I’ll sing with yoooou, Prantin,”
“Okay! Let's sing, 'Lucky Man's Strife?!’ an improv song from the Bards College,” Prantin said, winking at Saviak.
“Oh! I'd love to hear it! I can't wait!” Yeralia danced.
Prantin starts. “Well!
This is the tale of a lucky old fellow (Tavian is catching on)
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow (He might get angry)
He had friends, he had a history and now has a wife (She's not convincing enough)
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's strife! (What should we do?)
I had a note that led me to it, a house on the hill (We need to tell him)
To ask for the charm. The luck and the will. (or at least hint at it)
He told me No! And he went on his way (he might leave or… worse)
He took for the hills, there was no time to stay! (Do you have an idea?)”
Saviak joins in the chorus,
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow (Tavian is catching on)
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow (He might get angry)
He had friends, he had a history , now he has a wife(She's not convincing enough)
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's strife (What should we do?)”
Saviak replies, in verse,
“I followed the man, he walked steadfast (He might not care though)
He look so tired, he was ready to pass (if he's angry he'll get over it)
I soon found out; the old man had a wife(we can change the subject to her now)
And was dumb struck with fear, as she came with a knife. (She was a back stabbing woman)”
Both Tavian and Yeralia join,
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow,
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow!
He had friends, he had a history, he now has a wife
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's Strife!”
Tavian sings, off key the entire time,
“The wife came up and shouted, almost caught me in the neck. (???)
I'm know I had to duck, so I hit the deck! (???)
I was pointed to the house, told to go in. (???)
The old man came too, he gave me a pin.(???)
They're all singing as the walk into the town. The tavern was near the entrance of the town so they walked in, still singing,
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow,
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow!
He had friends, he had a history, he now has a wife
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's Strife!”
The party sits down and Yeralia finishes the song with great finesse,
“The pin looked like silver, but I know my steel (You know, don't you?)
I felt ripped off, I know how you feel(I could bring her back if you want me to)"
Prantin and Savaik sing in unison reply,
“I took the grey pin, and I'm filled with glee! (We like you way more)
Now I am a man who is just as lucky! (We're glad to have you!)"
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow,
My smile became grand! Big, bright and yellow!
I had friends, I had a history, I now have a wife
But to me life is a mystery, just the lucky man's Strife!” | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | John, George, and Ringo were huddled together inside a secret room on the fantastical magical yellow submarine.
"George, how confident are you?"
George left his momentary silence of contemplation to say " Paul is dead man, miss him."
Ringo asks, "do you though? I mean I doubt if you guys would miss me either."
John shook his head, "we must have lost him on our way through Abby Road"
George sighed "I like the new one. I say we let it be."
A knock on the door. "You there guys? I was hoping we'd do a music number about friendship."
John looked at the others, and they nodded in agreement. John opened the door and announced, "ALL TOGETHER NOW!" | I added a little twist but I think it's still good, non the less. Here.
"AAHHH! Tavian! I need your help!"
"What can I do?"
"Ray of Frost!? Something! ANYTHING! JUST GET THIS THING OFF ME!"
A small harmless slug had fallen onto Yeralia's shoulder, while the party was traveling out of the Forest of Traggleroot. Tavian, being a Barbarian, simply flicked the slug off of her. Saviak and Prantin were watching the whole debacle take place, giggling like goblins about to botch an ambush.
“You do know I'm not an Eldritch Knight, right?”
"Thank you Tavian, I know,” she said, wiping away the slime, “I can always rely on you."
"Even when I almost sacrificed you to my gods?"
Yeralia simply forgot that ever happened.
“Well, let's let bygones be bygones, eh, Tavian?”
“That not like the Yer…”
“Uppupupup!,” Saviak interrupted, covering Tavians mouth. There was a brief pause. He continues, “We just defeated a shapeshifter! Let's go celebrate at the tavern and… Prantin can play the lute as we venture to town! Yeah, sound like a plan?”
Saviak releases Tavians mouth, “Uh.. sure! I am ready to get our reward! How about we get going? I need to mourn the loss Kenneth.”
Tavian didn't know Yeralia was actually the shapeshifter. Saviak was a smooth talker, some paladins are, and Tavian doesn't have very much intelligence, most Barbarians don't. The party walk along the path while Prantin plays his lute like a pro. He began to sing a song.
“In memory of Kenneth, the Thief that broke the rules, taught us the Cant and then was shot by the thieves guild. How bad. Sooooo saaad!”
“He didn't teach me or Yeralia Thieves Cant.” Tavian barked.
Prantin replied in singsong, “That's because you and the mage were really druuunk!”
“Oh… good point,” Tavian realized.
“Isn’t thieves cant like secret messages people can share in the open?,” said Yeralia.
“If Kenneth was here he’d say, ‘...maybe.’ I think his carefree nature is what caused the guild to turn on him.” Saviak answered. “By the way… I’ll sing with yoooou, Prantin,”
“Okay! Let's sing, 'Lucky Man's Strife?!’ an improv song from the Bards College,” Prantin said, winking at Saviak.
“Oh! I'd love to hear it! I can't wait!” Yeralia danced.
Prantin starts. “Well!
This is the tale of a lucky old fellow (Tavian is catching on)
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow (He might get angry)
He had friends, he had a history and now has a wife (She's not convincing enough)
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's strife! (What should we do?)
I had a note that led me to it, a house on the hill (We need to tell him)
To ask for the charm. The luck and the will. (or at least hint at it)
He told me No! And he went on his way (he might leave or… worse)
He took for the hills, there was no time to stay! (Do you have an idea?)”
Saviak joins in the chorus,
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow (Tavian is catching on)
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow (He might get angry)
He had friends, he had a history , now he has a wife(She's not convincing enough)
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's strife (What should we do?)”
Saviak replies, in verse,
“I followed the man, he walked steadfast (He might not care though)
He look so tired, he was ready to pass (if he's angry he'll get over it)
I soon found out; the old man had a wife(we can change the subject to her now)
And was dumb struck with fear, as she came with a knife. (She was a back stabbing woman)”
Both Tavian and Yeralia join,
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow,
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow!
He had friends, he had a history, he now has a wife
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's Strife!”
Tavian sings, off key the entire time,
“The wife came up and shouted, almost caught me in the neck. (???)
I'm know I had to duck, so I hit the deck! (???)
I was pointed to the house, told to go in. (???)
The old man came too, he gave me a pin.(???)
They're all singing as the walk into the town. The tavern was near the entrance of the town so they walked in, still singing,
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow,
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow!
He had friends, he had a history, he now has a wife
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's Strife!”
The party sits down and Yeralia finishes the song with great finesse,
“The pin looked like silver, but I know my steel (You know, don't you?)
I felt ripped off, I know how you feel(I could bring her back if you want me to)"
Prantin and Savaik sing in unison reply,
“I took the grey pin, and I'm filled with glee! (We like you way more)
Now I am a man who is just as lucky! (We're glad to have you!)"
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow,
My smile became grand! Big, bright and yellow!
I had friends, I had a history, I now have a wife
But to me life is a mystery, just the lucky man's Strife!” | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | The tavern was alight with candles and warm fires, the smell of meats and bread wafted through to the rafters of wood and plaster. Ale stained the floor in places and the barkeep had been working on a single mug for a startling amount of time. All and all a lively place to be on this evening.
"Ah and a fine night to you as well gentlemen! Merry blessings!" The rogue said, as the men who joined him for cards departed a few coins heavier then they were at start.
"Is this not grand fellows?" The elf turned to his crew. "Ale in the air! A tavern filled with beautiful women! And my closest friend in the world." He stood then, a leg up on the top of the table, his back leg supporting him from the ground
"Ladies! Gentlemen!" He yelled, "Tonight, join me in toast to this merry band of fighters, lovers and the heroes of this town tonight! We are all thankful," he stopped to smile at his friends, the ale tinting his checks red "but I am thankful, for they are the truest of my friends" and with that he drank. The here-heres rose in strength from the crowd, and he was jostled away by the crowd with promises to be back later.
The dwarf, gnome and orc all sat in silence, looking at their drinks solemnly.
The dwarf sighed, pinching the top of his nose,
The orc had his hand in his head looking off into nothingness,
Finally the gnome chimed in, quietly, but with a resolute tone
"Okay, I'll say it. He's a much better companion then Roderick and we should do everything in our earthly powers not to mess this up."
The orc and dwarf both sighed in unanimous relief
The orc chimed in first with a hushed tone and feeling in his voice "Its like he knew what a whoreson Roderick was!" He said, sitting at attention once again " its like he knew and said to himself 'oh! These chaps look like they could use a new, better companion!' Then took it upon himself, through all the peril, to join us in disguise! All while throwing Roderick into god knows where!" He laughed. "The monster was OUR hero!"
The dwarf was next, wide eyed and hands extended to point out "Roderick" in the crowd. " look at that bloody rogue, he blends right in, they would never know they're holding possibly one of the most dangerous monsters in the land" he lowered his hands, then pointed out, " for all that, doesn't that also make him a better rogue?" They all agreed quietly.
The orc chimed in once more, tentatively, " look Roderick is a whoreson who would and almost did murder us for a small some of coin, twice." They all agreed muttering comments under their breath, " but were the you know...good guys... shouldn't we at least try to save him?"
The others were about to reluctantly agree when "Roderick" appeared before them once again
"My friends! this is as much your victory as mine! More so! Come join us, the mayor seems keen on raising our rewards! I thought it only fitting you be by my... Nay, I be by your sides during this!" He smiled warmly.
They looked at each other, shrugged and smiled
"No that's fine, we can be knaves for a night." The gnome said, stepping up from his seat. | I added a little twist but I think it's still good, non the less. Here.
"AAHHH! Tavian! I need your help!"
"What can I do?"
"Ray of Frost!? Something! ANYTHING! JUST GET THIS THING OFF ME!"
A small harmless slug had fallen onto Yeralia's shoulder, while the party was traveling out of the Forest of Traggleroot. Tavian, being a Barbarian, simply flicked the slug off of her. Saviak and Prantin were watching the whole debacle take place, giggling like goblins about to botch an ambush.
“You do know I'm not an Eldritch Knight, right?”
"Thank you Tavian, I know,” she said, wiping away the slime, “I can always rely on you."
"Even when I almost sacrificed you to my gods?"
Yeralia simply forgot that ever happened.
“Well, let's let bygones be bygones, eh, Tavian?”
“That not like the Yer…”
“Uppupupup!,” Saviak interrupted, covering Tavians mouth. There was a brief pause. He continues, “We just defeated a shapeshifter! Let's go celebrate at the tavern and… Prantin can play the lute as we venture to town! Yeah, sound like a plan?”
Saviak releases Tavians mouth, “Uh.. sure! I am ready to get our reward! How about we get going? I need to mourn the loss Kenneth.”
Tavian didn't know Yeralia was actually the shapeshifter. Saviak was a smooth talker, some paladins are, and Tavian doesn't have very much intelligence, most Barbarians don't. The party walk along the path while Prantin plays his lute like a pro. He began to sing a song.
“In memory of Kenneth, the Thief that broke the rules, taught us the Cant and then was shot by the thieves guild. How bad. Sooooo saaad!”
“He didn't teach me or Yeralia Thieves Cant.” Tavian barked.
Prantin replied in singsong, “That's because you and the mage were really druuunk!”
“Oh… good point,” Tavian realized.
“Isn’t thieves cant like secret messages people can share in the open?,” said Yeralia.
“If Kenneth was here he’d say, ‘...maybe.’ I think his carefree nature is what caused the guild to turn on him.” Saviak answered. “By the way… I’ll sing with yoooou, Prantin,”
“Okay! Let's sing, 'Lucky Man's Strife?!’ an improv song from the Bards College,” Prantin said, winking at Saviak.
“Oh! I'd love to hear it! I can't wait!” Yeralia danced.
Prantin starts. “Well!
This is the tale of a lucky old fellow (Tavian is catching on)
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow (He might get angry)
He had friends, he had a history and now has a wife (She's not convincing enough)
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's strife! (What should we do?)
I had a note that led me to it, a house on the hill (We need to tell him)
To ask for the charm. The luck and the will. (or at least hint at it)
He told me No! And he went on his way (he might leave or… worse)
He took for the hills, there was no time to stay! (Do you have an idea?)”
Saviak joins in the chorus,
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow (Tavian is catching on)
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow (He might get angry)
He had friends, he had a history , now he has a wife(She's not convincing enough)
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's strife (What should we do?)”
Saviak replies, in verse,
“I followed the man, he walked steadfast (He might not care though)
He look so tired, he was ready to pass (if he's angry he'll get over it)
I soon found out; the old man had a wife(we can change the subject to her now)
And was dumb struck with fear, as she came with a knife. (She was a back stabbing woman)”
Both Tavian and Yeralia join,
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow,
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow!
He had friends, he had a history, he now has a wife
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's Strife!”
Tavian sings, off key the entire time,
“The wife came up and shouted, almost caught me in the neck. (???)
I'm know I had to duck, so I hit the deck! (???)
I was pointed to the house, told to go in. (???)
The old man came too, he gave me a pin.(???)
They're all singing as the walk into the town. The tavern was near the entrance of the town so they walked in, still singing,
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow,
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow!
He had friends, he had a history, he now has a wife
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's Strife!”
The party sits down and Yeralia finishes the song with great finesse,
“The pin looked like silver, but I know my steel (You know, don't you?)
I felt ripped off, I know how you feel(I could bring her back if you want me to)"
Prantin and Savaik sing in unison reply,
“I took the grey pin, and I'm filled with glee! (We like you way more)
Now I am a man who is just as lucky! (We're glad to have you!)"
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow,
My smile became grand! Big, bright and yellow!
I had friends, I had a history, I now have a wife
But to me life is a mystery, just the lucky man's Strife!” | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | John, George, and Ringo were huddled together inside a secret room on the fantastical magical yellow submarine.
"George, how confident are you?"
George left his momentary silence of contemplation to say " Paul is dead man, miss him."
Ringo asks, "do you though? I mean I doubt if you guys would miss me either."
John shook his head, "we must have lost him on our way through Abby Road"
George sighed "I like the new one. I say we let it be."
A knock on the door. "You there guys? I was hoping we'd do a music number about friendship."
John looked at the others, and they nodded in agreement. John opened the door and announced, "ALL TOGETHER NOW!" | I added a little twist but I think it's still good, non the less. Here.
"AAHHH! Tavian! I need your help!"
"What can I do?"
"Ray of Frost!? Something! ANYTHING! JUST GET THIS THING OFF ME!"
A small harmless slug had fallen onto Yeralia's shoulder, while the party was traveling out of the Forest of Traggleroot. Tavian, being a Barbarian, simply flicked the slug off of her. Saviak and Prantin were watching the whole debacle take place, giggling like goblins about to botch an ambush.
“You do know I'm not an Eldritch Knight, right?”
"Thank you Tavian, I know,” she said, wiping away the slime, “I can always rely on you."
"Even when I almost sacrificed you to my gods?"
Yeralia simply forgot that ever happened.
“Well, let's let bygones be bygones, eh, Tavian?”
“That not like the Yer…”
“Uppupupup!,” Saviak interrupted, covering Tavians mouth. There was a brief pause. He continues, “We just defeated a shapeshifter! Let's go celebrate at the tavern and… Prantin can play the lute as we venture to town! Yeah, sound like a plan?”
Saviak releases Tavians mouth, “Uh.. sure! I am ready to get our reward! How about we get going? I need to mourn the loss Kenneth.”
Tavian didn't know Yeralia was actually the shapeshifter. Saviak was a smooth talker, some paladins are, and Tavian doesn't have very much intelligence, most Barbarians don't. The party walk along the path while Prantin plays his lute like a pro. He began to sing a song.
“In memory of Kenneth, the Thief that broke the rules, taught us the Cant and then was shot by the thieves guild. How bad. Sooooo saaad!”
“He didn't teach me or Yeralia Thieves Cant.” Tavian barked.
Prantin replied in singsong, “That's because you and the mage were really druuunk!”
“Oh… good point,” Tavian realized.
“Isn’t thieves cant like secret messages people can share in the open?,” said Yeralia.
“If Kenneth was here he’d say, ‘...maybe.’ I think his carefree nature is what caused the guild to turn on him.” Saviak answered. “By the way… I’ll sing with yoooou, Prantin,”
“Okay! Let's sing, 'Lucky Man's Strife?!’ an improv song from the Bards College,” Prantin said, winking at Saviak.
“Oh! I'd love to hear it! I can't wait!” Yeralia danced.
Prantin starts. “Well!
This is the tale of a lucky old fellow (Tavian is catching on)
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow (He might get angry)
He had friends, he had a history and now has a wife (She's not convincing enough)
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's strife! (What should we do?)
I had a note that led me to it, a house on the hill (We need to tell him)
To ask for the charm. The luck and the will. (or at least hint at it)
He told me No! And he went on his way (he might leave or… worse)
He took for the hills, there was no time to stay! (Do you have an idea?)”
Saviak joins in the chorus,
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow (Tavian is catching on)
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow (He might get angry)
He had friends, he had a history , now he has a wife(She's not convincing enough)
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's strife (What should we do?)”
Saviak replies, in verse,
“I followed the man, he walked steadfast (He might not care though)
He look so tired, he was ready to pass (if he's angry he'll get over it)
I soon found out; the old man had a wife(we can change the subject to her now)
And was dumb struck with fear, as she came with a knife. (She was a back stabbing woman)”
Both Tavian and Yeralia join,
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow,
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow!
He had friends, he had a history, he now has a wife
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's Strife!”
Tavian sings, off key the entire time,
“The wife came up and shouted, almost caught me in the neck. (???)
I'm know I had to duck, so I hit the deck! (???)
I was pointed to the house, told to go in. (???)
The old man came too, he gave me a pin.(???)
They're all singing as the walk into the town. The tavern was near the entrance of the town so they walked in, still singing,
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow,
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow!
He had friends, he had a history, he now has a wife
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's Strife!”
The party sits down and Yeralia finishes the song with great finesse,
“The pin looked like silver, but I know my steel (You know, don't you?)
I felt ripped off, I know how you feel(I could bring her back if you want me to)"
Prantin and Savaik sing in unison reply,
“I took the grey pin, and I'm filled with glee! (We like you way more)
Now I am a man who is just as lucky! (We're glad to have you!)"
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow,
My smile became grand! Big, bright and yellow!
I had friends, I had a history, I now have a wife
But to me life is a mystery, just the lucky man's Strife!” | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | The tavern was alight with candles and warm fires, the smell of meats and bread wafted through to the rafters of wood and plaster. Ale stained the floor in places and the barkeep had been working on a single mug for a startling amount of time. All and all a lively place to be on this evening.
"Ah and a fine night to you as well gentlemen! Merry blessings!" The rogue said, as the men who joined him for cards departed a few coins heavier then they were at start.
"Is this not grand fellows?" The elf turned to his crew. "Ale in the air! A tavern filled with beautiful women! And my closest friends in the world." He stood then, a leg up on the top of the table, his back leg supporting him from the ground
"Ladies! Gentlemen!" He yelled, "Tonight, join me in toast to this merry band of fighters, lovers and the heroes of this town! We are all thankful," he stopped to smile at his friends, the ale tinting his checks red "but I am thankful, for they are the truest of my friends" and with that he drank. The here-heres rose in strength from the crowd, and he was jostled away by the crowd with promises to be back later.
The dwarf, gnome and orc all sat in silence, looking at their drinks solemnly.
The dwarf sighed, pinching the top of his nose,
The orc had his head in his hands looking off into nothingness,
Finally the gnome chimed in, quietly, but with a resolute tone
"Okay, I'll say it. He's a much better companion then Roderick and we should do everything in our earthly powers not to mess this up."
The orc and dwarf both sighed in unanimous relief
The orc chimed in first with a hushed tone and feeling in his voice "Its like he knew what a whoreson Roderick was!" He said, sitting at attention once again " its like he knew and said to himself 'oh! These chaps look like they could use a new, better companion!' Then took it upon himself, through all the peril, to join us in disguise! All while throwing Roderick into god knows where!" He laughed. "The monster was OUR hero!"
The dwarf was next, wide eyed and hands extended to point out "Roderick" in the crowd. " look at that bloody rogue, he blends right in, they would never know they're holding possibly one of the most dangerous monsters in the land" he lowered his hands, then pointed out, " for all that, doesn't that also make him a better rogue?" They all agreed quietly.
The orc chimed in once more, tentatively, " look Roderick is a whoreson who would and almost did murder us for a small some of coin, twice." They all agreed muttering comments under their breath, " but were the you know...good guys... shouldn't we at least try to save him?"
The others were about to reluctantly agree when "Roderick" appeared before them once again
"My friends! this is as much your victory as mine! More so! Come join us, the mayor seems keen on raising our rewards! I thought it only fitting you be by my... Nay, I be by your sides during this!" He smiled warmly.
They looked at each other, shrugged and smiled
"No that's fine, we can be knaves for a night." The gnome said, stepping up from his seat. | I added a little twist but I think it's still good, non the less. Here.
"AAHHH! Tavian! I need your help!"
"What can I do?"
"Ray of Frost!? Something! ANYTHING! JUST GET THIS THING OFF ME!"
A small harmless slug had fallen onto Yeralia's shoulder, while the party was traveling out of the Forest of Traggleroot. Tavian, being a Barbarian, simply flicked the slug off of her. Saviak and Prantin were watching the whole debacle take place, giggling like goblins about to botch an ambush.
“You do know I'm not an Eldritch Knight, right?”
"Thank you Tavian, I know,” she said, wiping away the slime, “I can always rely on you."
"Even when I almost sacrificed you to my gods?"
Yeralia simply forgot that ever happened.
“Well, let's let bygones be bygones, eh, Tavian?”
“That not like the Yer…”
“Uppupupup!,” Saviak interrupted, covering Tavians mouth. There was a brief pause. He continues, “We just defeated a shapeshifter! Let's go celebrate at the tavern and… Prantin can play the lute as we venture to town! Yeah, sound like a plan?”
Saviak releases Tavians mouth, “Uh.. sure! I am ready to get our reward! How about we get going? I need to mourn the loss Kenneth.”
Tavian didn't know Yeralia was actually the shapeshifter. Saviak was a smooth talker, some paladins are, and Tavian doesn't have very much intelligence, most Barbarians don't. The party walk along the path while Prantin plays his lute like a pro. He began to sing a song.
“In memory of Kenneth, the Thief that broke the rules, taught us the Cant and then was shot by the thieves guild. How bad. Sooooo saaad!”
“He didn't teach me or Yeralia Thieves Cant.” Tavian barked.
Prantin replied in singsong, “That's because you and the mage were really druuunk!”
“Oh… good point,” Tavian realized.
“Isn’t thieves cant like secret messages people can share in the open?,” said Yeralia.
“If Kenneth was here he’d say, ‘...maybe.’ I think his carefree nature is what caused the guild to turn on him.” Saviak answered. “By the way… I’ll sing with yoooou, Prantin,”
“Okay! Let's sing, 'Lucky Man's Strife?!’ an improv song from the Bards College,” Prantin said, winking at Saviak.
“Oh! I'd love to hear it! I can't wait!” Yeralia danced.
Prantin starts. “Well!
This is the tale of a lucky old fellow (Tavian is catching on)
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow (He might get angry)
He had friends, he had a history and now has a wife (She's not convincing enough)
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's strife! (What should we do?)
I had a note that led me to it, a house on the hill (We need to tell him)
To ask for the charm. The luck and the will. (or at least hint at it)
He told me No! And he went on his way (he might leave or… worse)
He took for the hills, there was no time to stay! (Do you have an idea?)”
Saviak joins in the chorus,
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow (Tavian is catching on)
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow (He might get angry)
He had friends, he had a history , now he has a wife(She's not convincing enough)
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's strife (What should we do?)”
Saviak replies, in verse,
“I followed the man, he walked steadfast (He might not care though)
He look so tired, he was ready to pass (if he's angry he'll get over it)
I soon found out; the old man had a wife(we can change the subject to her now)
And was dumb struck with fear, as she came with a knife. (She was a back stabbing woman)”
Both Tavian and Yeralia join,
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow,
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow!
He had friends, he had a history, he now has a wife
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's Strife!”
Tavian sings, off key the entire time,
“The wife came up and shouted, almost caught me in the neck. (???)
I'm know I had to duck, so I hit the deck! (???)
I was pointed to the house, told to go in. (???)
The old man came too, he gave me a pin.(???)
They're all singing as the walk into the town. The tavern was near the entrance of the town so they walked in, still singing,
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow,
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow!
He had friends, he had a history, he now has a wife
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's Strife!”
The party sits down and Yeralia finishes the song with great finesse,
“The pin looked like silver, but I know my steel (You know, don't you?)
I felt ripped off, I know how you feel(I could bring her back if you want me to)"
Prantin and Savaik sing in unison reply,
“I took the grey pin, and I'm filled with glee! (We like you way more)
Now I am a man who is just as lucky! (We're glad to have you!)"
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow,
My smile became grand! Big, bright and yellow!
I had friends, I had a history, I now have a wife
But to me life is a mystery, just the lucky man's Strife!” | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | "Guys, I think those holes might be for arrows or something. We had better check if this hallway is trapped!" warned Danny.
The party stopped, and Julie, an experienced rogue, did a check for traps. Sure enough, she found one, though curiously it was already disarmed.
Veronica explained, "It looks like someone has already blocked the mechanism with a rock. It should be safe to head down the passageway."
"Wait, before we go on, I need a quick break to use the loo." Danny looked abashed.
That brought some sighs from the group. "Couldn't you have done that a few minutes ago, before we entered the dungeon?" asked Veronica.
"Sorry everyone," replied Danny, "I drank too much water earlier." And off he went in search of some relief.
With Danny gone, the party had a moment to talk to themselves.
"He's really been such a better husband and father since....", Veronica trailed off.
"Yes, we've noticed lots of positive changes," replied Jim.
"He's making so much more time for the children. He's being so much more responsible in every way."
"You yourself seem happier these days", remarked Julie. "Have you decided to let on that you know?"
"No, I'm worried it...he... might decide to stop pretending. Our love-life has gotten incredible, and he is so much more into the role playing aspects I enjoy." For a moment her conflicting emotions filled her face. "He is my husband, even if he isn't the man I married anymore."
"We're here for you. We'll keep it quiet." Julie gave her hand a squeeze. "Oh, I think he's coming back."
Danny walked in, and rejoined the party. "Lets go kick some goblin butt!" He picked up the dice, and turned and look at his wife with a smile. "Ok DM, what do you think I need to roll to get a pizza delivered while we finish our game?" | I added a little twist but I think it's still good, non the less. Here.
"AAHHH! Tavian! I need your help!"
"What can I do?"
"Ray of Frost!? Something! ANYTHING! JUST GET THIS THING OFF ME!"
A small harmless slug had fallen onto Yeralia's shoulder, while the party was traveling out of the Forest of Traggleroot. Tavian, being a Barbarian, simply flicked the slug off of her. Saviak and Prantin were watching the whole debacle take place, giggling like goblins about to botch an ambush.
“You do know I'm not an Eldritch Knight, right?”
"Thank you Tavian, I know,” she said, wiping away the slime, “I can always rely on you."
"Even when I almost sacrificed you to my gods?"
Yeralia simply forgot that ever happened.
“Well, let's let bygones be bygones, eh, Tavian?”
“That not like the Yer…”
“Uppupupup!,” Saviak interrupted, covering Tavians mouth. There was a brief pause. He continues, “We just defeated a shapeshifter! Let's go celebrate at the tavern and… Prantin can play the lute as we venture to town! Yeah, sound like a plan?”
Saviak releases Tavians mouth, “Uh.. sure! I am ready to get our reward! How about we get going? I need to mourn the loss Kenneth.”
Tavian didn't know Yeralia was actually the shapeshifter. Saviak was a smooth talker, some paladins are, and Tavian doesn't have very much intelligence, most Barbarians don't. The party walk along the path while Prantin plays his lute like a pro. He began to sing a song.
“In memory of Kenneth, the Thief that broke the rules, taught us the Cant and then was shot by the thieves guild. How bad. Sooooo saaad!”
“He didn't teach me or Yeralia Thieves Cant.” Tavian barked.
Prantin replied in singsong, “That's because you and the mage were really druuunk!”
“Oh… good point,” Tavian realized.
“Isn’t thieves cant like secret messages people can share in the open?,” said Yeralia.
“If Kenneth was here he’d say, ‘...maybe.’ I think his carefree nature is what caused the guild to turn on him.” Saviak answered. “By the way… I’ll sing with yoooou, Prantin,”
“Okay! Let's sing, 'Lucky Man's Strife?!’ an improv song from the Bards College,” Prantin said, winking at Saviak.
“Oh! I'd love to hear it! I can't wait!” Yeralia danced.
Prantin starts. “Well!
This is the tale of a lucky old fellow (Tavian is catching on)
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow (He might get angry)
He had friends, he had a history and now has a wife (She's not convincing enough)
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's strife! (What should we do?)
I had a note that led me to it, a house on the hill (We need to tell him)
To ask for the charm. The luck and the will. (or at least hint at it)
He told me No! And he went on his way (he might leave or… worse)
He took for the hills, there was no time to stay! (Do you have an idea?)”
Saviak joins in the chorus,
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow (Tavian is catching on)
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow (He might get angry)
He had friends, he had a history , now he has a wife(She's not convincing enough)
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's strife (What should we do?)”
Saviak replies, in verse,
“I followed the man, he walked steadfast (He might not care though)
He look so tired, he was ready to pass (if he's angry he'll get over it)
I soon found out; the old man had a wife(we can change the subject to her now)
And was dumb struck with fear, as she came with a knife. (She was a back stabbing woman)”
Both Tavian and Yeralia join,
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow,
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow!
He had friends, he had a history, he now has a wife
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's Strife!”
Tavian sings, off key the entire time,
“The wife came up and shouted, almost caught me in the neck. (???)
I'm know I had to duck, so I hit the deck! (???)
I was pointed to the house, told to go in. (???)
The old man came too, he gave me a pin.(???)
They're all singing as the walk into the town. The tavern was near the entrance of the town so they walked in, still singing,
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow,
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow!
He had friends, he had a history, he now has a wife
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's Strife!”
The party sits down and Yeralia finishes the song with great finesse,
“The pin looked like silver, but I know my steel (You know, don't you?)
I felt ripped off, I know how you feel(I could bring her back if you want me to)"
Prantin and Savaik sing in unison reply,
“I took the grey pin, and I'm filled with glee! (We like you way more)
Now I am a man who is just as lucky! (We're glad to have you!)"
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow,
My smile became grand! Big, bright and yellow!
I had friends, I had a history, I now have a wife
But to me life is a mystery, just the lucky man's Strife!” | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | "GREETINGS FELLOW ADVENTURING HUMANS!" Boomed the voice of Danny the Elf sat bolt upright from the sleeping cloth sack she had been in, causing Bob the Barbarian to grunt and curl up under his animal hide sleeping rug again.
"IT IS I, YOUR GOOD FRIEND DAN, I AM UNHARMED AFTER MY ENCOUNTER WITH THE DAEMON!" She continued smiling oddly, her mouth breaking into a wide grin with teeth and her eyebrows actually elevating.
"Dann...." Feldspar the half-elf warlock managed to stop himself from saying Danny, "You told us this before, remember?"
Danny the Elf blinked, everything was always so terribly confusing, having come from a dimension that didn't have time it had to learn about things happening and things that had happened, Makor the Cleric had helped with that, teaching the snow elf about how things happen and can't be changed but things that haven't happened yet can be altered.
"OH YES FRIEND!" Danny laughed as if it was a running joke, Sim the halfling thief/bard laughed a little as well in sympathy or perhaps enjoyment.
"WHERE ARE WE GOING TODAY? WILL THERE BE MORE EXCELLENT FERMENTED YEAST PRODUCTS TO CONSUME?"
Makor nodded slowly, "That's right Dan, more beer at the end of the adventure, now how did we get back the entrance avoiding the dragon, getting the treasure and nobody getting hurt?"
"OF COURSE FRIEND! THIS IS A THING THAT HAPPENED ALREADY AFTER ALL!" Danny confirmed with the group as each of them nodded in agreement pressing in to listen carefully to Danny.
"FIRSTLY, WE LEFT THE ROOM BY THE SOUTH ENTRANCE, SIM DISABLED THE PIT TRAP AFTER FALLING INTO IT AND DYING THE FIRST TIME HE TRIED." Danny started to explain.
Sim frowned a little looking towards the South entrance, he'd died; again, if 'Dan' hadn't told him about the pit trap or the acid or the undercooked chicken or ... he was incredibly glad that 'Dan' had changed so dramatically since that encounter with the demon.
"THE TREASURE IS MOSTLY CURSED AND FELDSPAR CHANGED INTO A SHEEP WHEN HE PICKED UP A STAFF THEN A STATUE AS HE TOUCHED THE CURSED DIAMOND AS LARGE AS HIS FIST AND THEN WAS KILLED AS HE PICKED UP A CROWN." Danny continued as Feldspar took careful notes, the warlock couldn't remember the last time he'd bothered to cast identification or detect item status.
Feldspar liked whatever was living inside Danny, even when the party wasn't using it as a cheap way to complete adventures the Elf was nicer, kinder and fun to listen to, with her soft voice always shouting it was hard not to giggle at her.
"THEN AS WE LEAVE THE REAL MAKOR ATTACKS THE FAKE ONE CURRENTLY TRAVELLING WITH US AND IS EASILY DEFEATED." Danny concluded smiling proudly.
Makor looked around the group as for a moment he was sure that his plan had been ruined, they must know, it was just said aloud.
Sim however was fiddling with his lock picks, clearly fully distracted, Feldspar was already in a meditative trance memorising spells.
Bob smiled widely at Makor and Danny before speaking in his native tongue, "What did she say then? Sounded like bad news for you, Feldspar and Sim..."
Makor nodded with a rush of relief as Bob wondered how many more times he could possibly pass that particular lie your face off check. | I added a little twist but I think it's still good, non the less. Here.
"AAHHH! Tavian! I need your help!"
"What can I do?"
"Ray of Frost!? Something! ANYTHING! JUST GET THIS THING OFF ME!"
A small harmless slug had fallen onto Yeralia's shoulder, while the party was traveling out of the Forest of Traggleroot. Tavian, being a Barbarian, simply flicked the slug off of her. Saviak and Prantin were watching the whole debacle take place, giggling like goblins about to botch an ambush.
“You do know I'm not an Eldritch Knight, right?”
"Thank you Tavian, I know,” she said, wiping away the slime, “I can always rely on you."
"Even when I almost sacrificed you to my gods?"
Yeralia simply forgot that ever happened.
“Well, let's let bygones be bygones, eh, Tavian?”
“That not like the Yer…”
“Uppupupup!,” Saviak interrupted, covering Tavians mouth. There was a brief pause. He continues, “We just defeated a shapeshifter! Let's go celebrate at the tavern and… Prantin can play the lute as we venture to town! Yeah, sound like a plan?”
Saviak releases Tavians mouth, “Uh.. sure! I am ready to get our reward! How about we get going? I need to mourn the loss Kenneth.”
Tavian didn't know Yeralia was actually the shapeshifter. Saviak was a smooth talker, some paladins are, and Tavian doesn't have very much intelligence, most Barbarians don't. The party walk along the path while Prantin plays his lute like a pro. He began to sing a song.
“In memory of Kenneth, the Thief that broke the rules, taught us the Cant and then was shot by the thieves guild. How bad. Sooooo saaad!”
“He didn't teach me or Yeralia Thieves Cant.” Tavian barked.
Prantin replied in singsong, “That's because you and the mage were really druuunk!”
“Oh… good point,” Tavian realized.
“Isn’t thieves cant like secret messages people can share in the open?,” said Yeralia.
“If Kenneth was here he’d say, ‘...maybe.’ I think his carefree nature is what caused the guild to turn on him.” Saviak answered. “By the way… I’ll sing with yoooou, Prantin,”
“Okay! Let's sing, 'Lucky Man's Strife?!’ an improv song from the Bards College,” Prantin said, winking at Saviak.
“Oh! I'd love to hear it! I can't wait!” Yeralia danced.
Prantin starts. “Well!
This is the tale of a lucky old fellow (Tavian is catching on)
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow (He might get angry)
He had friends, he had a history and now has a wife (She's not convincing enough)
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's strife! (What should we do?)
I had a note that led me to it, a house on the hill (We need to tell him)
To ask for the charm. The luck and the will. (or at least hint at it)
He told me No! And he went on his way (he might leave or… worse)
He took for the hills, there was no time to stay! (Do you have an idea?)”
Saviak joins in the chorus,
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow (Tavian is catching on)
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow (He might get angry)
He had friends, he had a history , now he has a wife(She's not convincing enough)
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's strife (What should we do?)”
Saviak replies, in verse,
“I followed the man, he walked steadfast (He might not care though)
He look so tired, he was ready to pass (if he's angry he'll get over it)
I soon found out; the old man had a wife(we can change the subject to her now)
And was dumb struck with fear, as she came with a knife. (She was a back stabbing woman)”
Both Tavian and Yeralia join,
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow,
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow!
He had friends, he had a history, he now has a wife
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's Strife!”
Tavian sings, off key the entire time,
“The wife came up and shouted, almost caught me in the neck. (???)
I'm know I had to duck, so I hit the deck! (???)
I was pointed to the house, told to go in. (???)
The old man came too, he gave me a pin.(???)
They're all singing as the walk into the town. The tavern was near the entrance of the town so they walked in, still singing,
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow,
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow!
He had friends, he had a history, he now has a wife
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's Strife!”
The party sits down and Yeralia finishes the song with great finesse,
“The pin looked like silver, but I know my steel (You know, don't you?)
I felt ripped off, I know how you feel(I could bring her back if you want me to)"
Prantin and Savaik sing in unison reply,
“I took the grey pin, and I'm filled with glee! (We like you way more)
Now I am a man who is just as lucky! (We're glad to have you!)"
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow,
My smile became grand! Big, bright and yellow!
I had friends, I had a history, I now have a wife
But to me life is a mystery, just the lucky man's Strife!” | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | "GREETINGS FELLOW ADVENTURING HUMANS!" Boomed the voice of Danny the Elf sat bolt upright from the sleeping cloth sack she had been in, causing Bob the Barbarian to grunt and curl up under his animal hide sleeping rug again.
"IT IS I, YOUR GOOD FRIEND DAN, I AM UNHARMED AFTER MY ENCOUNTER WITH THE DAEMON!" She continued smiling oddly, her mouth breaking into a wide grin with teeth and her eyebrows actually elevating.
"Dann...." Feldspar the half-elf warlock managed to stop himself from saying Danny, "You told us this before, remember?"
Danny the Elf blinked, everything was always so terribly confusing, having come from a dimension that didn't have time it had to learn about things happening and things that had happened, Makor the Cleric had helped with that, teaching the snow elf about how things happen and can't be changed but things that haven't happened yet can be altered.
"OH YES FRIEND!" Danny laughed as if it was a running joke, Sim the halfling thief/bard laughed a little as well in sympathy or perhaps enjoyment.
"WHERE ARE WE GOING TODAY? WILL THERE BE MORE EXCELLENT FERMENTED YEAST PRODUCTS TO CONSUME?"
Makor nodded slowly, "That's right Dan, more beer at the end of the adventure, now how did we get back the entrance avoiding the dragon, getting the treasure and nobody getting hurt?"
"OF COURSE FRIEND! THIS IS A THING THAT HAPPENED ALREADY AFTER ALL!" Danny confirmed with the group as each of them nodded in agreement pressing in to listen carefully to Danny.
"FIRSTLY, WE LEFT THE ROOM BY THE SOUTH ENTRANCE, SIM DISABLED THE PIT TRAP AFTER FALLING INTO IT AND DYING THE FIRST TIME HE TRIED." Danny started to explain.
Sim frowned a little looking towards the South entrance, he'd died; again, if 'Dan' hadn't told him about the pit trap or the acid or the undercooked chicken or ... he was incredibly glad that 'Dan' had changed so dramatically since that encounter with the demon.
"THE TREASURE IS MOSTLY CURSED AND FELDSPAR CHANGED INTO A SHEEP WHEN HE PICKED UP A STAFF THEN A STATUE AS HE TOUCHED THE CURSED DIAMOND AS LARGE AS HIS FIST AND THEN WAS KILLED AS HE PICKED UP A CROWN." Danny continued as Feldspar took careful notes, the warlock couldn't remember the last time he'd bothered to cast identification or detect item status.
Feldspar liked whatever was living inside Danny, even when the party wasn't using it as a cheap way to complete adventures the Elf was nicer, kinder and fun to listen to, with her soft voice always shouting it was hard not to giggle at her.
"THEN AS WE LEAVE THE REAL MAKOR ATTACKS THE FAKE ONE CURRENTLY TRAVELLING WITH US AND IS EASILY DEFEATED." Danny concluded smiling proudly.
Makor looked around the group as for a moment he was sure that his plan had been ruined, they must know, it was just said aloud.
Sim however was fiddling with his lock picks, clearly fully distracted, Feldspar was already in a meditative trance memorising spells.
Bob smiled widely at Makor and Danny before speaking in his native tongue, "What did she say then? Sounded like bad news for you, Feldspar and Sim..."
Makor nodded with a rush of relief as Bob wondered how many more times he could possibly pass that particular lie your face off check. | I added a little twist but I think it's still good, non the less. Here.
"AAHHH! Tavian! I need your help!"
"What can I do?"
"Ray of Frost!? Something! ANYTHING! JUST GET THIS THING OFF ME!"
A small harmless slug had fallen onto Yeralia's shoulder, while the party was traveling out of the Forest of Traggleroot. Tavian, being a Barbarian, simply flicked the slug off of her. Saviak and Prantin were watching the whole debacle take place, giggling like goblins about to botch an ambush.
“You do know I'm not an Eldritch Knight, right?”
"Thank you Tavian, I know,” she said, wiping away the slime, “I can always rely on you."
"Even when I almost sacrificed you to my gods?"
Yeralia simply forgot that ever happened.
“Well, let's let bygones be bygones, eh, Tavian?”
“That not like the Yer…”
“Uppupupup!,” Saviak interrupted, covering Tavians mouth. There was a brief pause. He continues, “We just defeated a shapeshifter! Let's go celebrate at the tavern and… Prantin can play the lute as we venture to town! Yeah, sound like a plan?”
Saviak releases Tavians mouth, “Uh.. sure! I am ready to get our reward! How about we get going? I need to mourn the loss Kenneth.”
Tavian didn't know Yeralia was actually the shapeshifter. Saviak was a smooth talker, some paladins are, and Tavian doesn't have very much intelligence, most Barbarians don't. The party walk along the path while Prantin plays his lute like a pro. He began to sing a song.
“In memory of Kenneth, the Thief that broke the rules, taught us the Cant and then was shot by the thieves guild. How bad. Sooooo saaad!”
“He didn't teach me or Yeralia Thieves Cant.” Tavian barked.
Prantin replied in singsong, “That's because you and the mage were really druuunk!”
“Oh… good point,” Tavian realized.
“Isn’t thieves cant like secret messages people can share in the open?,” said Yeralia.
“If Kenneth was here he’d say, ‘...maybe.’ I think his carefree nature is what caused the guild to turn on him.” Saviak answered. “By the way… I’ll sing with yoooou, Prantin,”
“Okay! Let's sing, 'Lucky Man's Strife?!’ an improv song from the Bards College,” Prantin said, winking at Saviak.
“Oh! I'd love to hear it! I can't wait!” Yeralia danced.
Prantin starts. “Well!
This is the tale of a lucky old fellow (Tavian is catching on)
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow (He might get angry)
He had friends, he had a history and now has a wife (She's not convincing enough)
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's strife! (What should we do?)
I had a note that led me to it, a house on the hill (We need to tell him)
To ask for the charm. The luck and the will. (or at least hint at it)
He told me No! And he went on his way (he might leave or… worse)
He took for the hills, there was no time to stay! (Do you have an idea?)”
Saviak joins in the chorus,
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow (Tavian is catching on)
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow (He might get angry)
He had friends, he had a history , now he has a wife(She's not convincing enough)
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's strife (What should we do?)”
Saviak replies, in verse,
“I followed the man, he walked steadfast (He might not care though)
He look so tired, he was ready to pass (if he's angry he'll get over it)
I soon found out; the old man had a wife(we can change the subject to her now)
And was dumb struck with fear, as she came with a knife. (She was a back stabbing woman)”
Both Tavian and Yeralia join,
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow,
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow!
He had friends, he had a history, he now has a wife
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's Strife!”
Tavian sings, off key the entire time,
“The wife came up and shouted, almost caught me in the neck. (???)
I'm know I had to duck, so I hit the deck! (???)
I was pointed to the house, told to go in. (???)
The old man came too, he gave me a pin.(???)
They're all singing as the walk into the town. The tavern was near the entrance of the town so they walked in, still singing,
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow,
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow!
He had friends, he had a history, he now has a wife
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's Strife!”
The party sits down and Yeralia finishes the song with great finesse,
“The pin looked like silver, but I know my steel (You know, don't you?)
I felt ripped off, I know how you feel(I could bring her back if you want me to)"
Prantin and Savaik sing in unison reply,
“I took the grey pin, and I'm filled with glee! (We like you way more)
Now I am a man who is just as lucky! (We're glad to have you!)"
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow,
My smile became grand! Big, bright and yellow!
I had friends, I had a history, I now have a wife
But to me life is a mystery, just the lucky man's Strife!” | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | Theldon – or at least the creature that was wearing his face – looked pale in the light of the campfire. As the wood crackled and burned, he chewed his lower lip, gathering his courage to speak.
“Guys … I … I have something to tell you,” he managed.
His three traveling companions looked at him. Vanariel snapped her spellbook shut and drew her staff. “What is it? An ambush? I told you guys I saw goblin-sign back there!”
“No, no! Not goblins!” Theldon said, holding his hands out. “It’s … it’s about me.”
Shiny Pete smirked. “What? You got the whore’s itch or something? Nothing to be ashamed of, buddy. Happened to us all once or twice.”
Dagmar glowered at the rogue from under bushy eyebrows. “Or mayhap a good number of times more than that.”
“No! It's not a disease either! It’s just …” Theldon took a deep breath. “Guys … I’m … I’m a doppelganger."
The three of them shared a long look, and then Vanariel and Shiny Pete burst out laughing. Dagmar’s glower deepened. “That’s no’ funny, lad,” he growled.
Vanariel and Shiny Pete stopped laughing. “Wait, wait,” the rogue said, “Dagmar, you didn’t *know?*”
Theldon looked shocked. “Wait, you guys *knew?*”
The elven woman tittered. “You’re not the shapeshifter you think you are. The real Theldon was an asshole.”
“Total dickwad,” Shiny Pete agreed. “In, like, every conceivable way.”
Dagmar leapt to his feet, drawing his axe. “You mean this is no’ a joke?” he roared, advancing on Theldon. “Die, fiend!”
As one, Vanariel and Shiny Pete placed themselves between the enraged dwarf and the doppleganger. “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Shiny Pete yelled. “This might not be the original Theldon, but he’s been with us for almost a year now. He was the guy who stood over you after you got paralyzed by a ghoul.”
“He took point when we fought that dragon,” Vanariel continued.
“Hell, he got in the face of evil sorcerer while you were busy chopping up his henchmen,” Shiny Pete added.
“Those henchmen represented a serious threat!” Dagmar retorted, “And it was no' like it was a full-grown dragon. Only a wee one!”
In unison, Valariel and Shiny Pete rolled their eyes. Dagmar glowered some more. He was good at it, and he liked to play to his strengths. At last the dwarf made a humphing noise and lowered his axe. Valariel sat down and opened her spellbook again. “Okay, that’s over right? We can get back to the adventuring?”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Pete said. Dagmar only grunted.
“Did you guys really know?” Theldon asked, still somewhat wary of the dwarf.
“Oh, yeah. I mean, it was kind of suspicious how he was dying of jungle rot one day and completely fine the next. But you’re really not much like the original Theldon at all. First of all, you’re actually useful in combat. And second of all, you’re a decent guy. I mean, I can have an ale with you and not worry that you’re going to stiff me on the check,” Pete said.
“Or stare at my tits while I’m trancing. Or grab my ass when I’m trying to brew potions,” Vanariel added. “And the ear jokes. Ugh, the original Theldon was such a creep. Why did we even keep him around?”
"Good question," Pete said. "I mean, I asked myself that a bunch of times after we got new Theldon. 'Why did we even keep that tool around in the first place?'"
“So you guys don’t even care that I’m a shapeshifter?”
“Not really, no,” Pete said. “I worked with lots of different people when I was in the Thieves’ Guild. Changelings weren’t any more likely to try killing me in my sleep than humans or half-elves. In my experience, everyone’s pretty human when you get down to it.”
“Hey! Speak for yourself, round-ears,” Vanariel said with half of a smile. “But nevertheless, I agree with the sentiment.”
“Oh,” Theldon said. He sat in own thoughts for a moment. “Thanks, guys. That means a lot to me.”
“Don’t mention it,” Pete said, and Vanariel nodded in agreement.
The evening passed in silence. Shiny Pete honed his daggers, and Vanariel memorized her spells. Dagmar and Theldon each sat in silence, alone with his thoughts.
At last the dwarf spoke. “Lad,” he asked the doppleganger, “have you ever tried maybe not being a shapeshifter?”
| I added a little twist but I think it's still good, non the less. Here.
"AAHHH! Tavian! I need your help!"
"What can I do?"
"Ray of Frost!? Something! ANYTHING! JUST GET THIS THING OFF ME!"
A small harmless slug had fallen onto Yeralia's shoulder, while the party was traveling out of the Forest of Traggleroot. Tavian, being a Barbarian, simply flicked the slug off of her. Saviak and Prantin were watching the whole debacle take place, giggling like goblins about to botch an ambush.
“You do know I'm not an Eldritch Knight, right?”
"Thank you Tavian, I know,” she said, wiping away the slime, “I can always rely on you."
"Even when I almost sacrificed you to my gods?"
Yeralia simply forgot that ever happened.
“Well, let's let bygones be bygones, eh, Tavian?”
“That not like the Yer…”
“Uppupupup!,” Saviak interrupted, covering Tavians mouth. There was a brief pause. He continues, “We just defeated a shapeshifter! Let's go celebrate at the tavern and… Prantin can play the lute as we venture to town! Yeah, sound like a plan?”
Saviak releases Tavians mouth, “Uh.. sure! I am ready to get our reward! How about we get going? I need to mourn the loss Kenneth.”
Tavian didn't know Yeralia was actually the shapeshifter. Saviak was a smooth talker, some paladins are, and Tavian doesn't have very much intelligence, most Barbarians don't. The party walk along the path while Prantin plays his lute like a pro. He began to sing a song.
“In memory of Kenneth, the Thief that broke the rules, taught us the Cant and then was shot by the thieves guild. How bad. Sooooo saaad!”
“He didn't teach me or Yeralia Thieves Cant.” Tavian barked.
Prantin replied in singsong, “That's because you and the mage were really druuunk!”
“Oh… good point,” Tavian realized.
“Isn’t thieves cant like secret messages people can share in the open?,” said Yeralia.
“If Kenneth was here he’d say, ‘...maybe.’ I think his carefree nature is what caused the guild to turn on him.” Saviak answered. “By the way… I’ll sing with yoooou, Prantin,”
“Okay! Let's sing, 'Lucky Man's Strife?!’ an improv song from the Bards College,” Prantin said, winking at Saviak.
“Oh! I'd love to hear it! I can't wait!” Yeralia danced.
Prantin starts. “Well!
This is the tale of a lucky old fellow (Tavian is catching on)
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow (He might get angry)
He had friends, he had a history and now has a wife (She's not convincing enough)
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's strife! (What should we do?)
I had a note that led me to it, a house on the hill (We need to tell him)
To ask for the charm. The luck and the will. (or at least hint at it)
He told me No! And he went on his way (he might leave or… worse)
He took for the hills, there was no time to stay! (Do you have an idea?)”
Saviak joins in the chorus,
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow (Tavian is catching on)
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow (He might get angry)
He had friends, he had a history , now he has a wife(She's not convincing enough)
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's strife (What should we do?)”
Saviak replies, in verse,
“I followed the man, he walked steadfast (He might not care though)
He look so tired, he was ready to pass (if he's angry he'll get over it)
I soon found out; the old man had a wife(we can change the subject to her now)
And was dumb struck with fear, as she came with a knife. (She was a back stabbing woman)”
Both Tavian and Yeralia join,
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow,
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow!
He had friends, he had a history, he now has a wife
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's Strife!”
Tavian sings, off key the entire time,
“The wife came up and shouted, almost caught me in the neck. (???)
I'm know I had to duck, so I hit the deck! (???)
I was pointed to the house, told to go in. (???)
The old man came too, he gave me a pin.(???)
They're all singing as the walk into the town. The tavern was near the entrance of the town so they walked in, still singing,
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow,
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow!
He had friends, he had a history, he now has a wife
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's Strife!”
The party sits down and Yeralia finishes the song with great finesse,
“The pin looked like silver, but I know my steel (You know, don't you?)
I felt ripped off, I know how you feel(I could bring her back if you want me to)"
Prantin and Savaik sing in unison reply,
“I took the grey pin, and I'm filled with glee! (We like you way more)
Now I am a man who is just as lucky! (We're glad to have you!)"
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow,
My smile became grand! Big, bright and yellow!
I had friends, I had a history, I now have a wife
But to me life is a mystery, just the lucky man's Strife!” | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | Theldon – or at least the creature that was wearing his face – looked pale in the light of the campfire. As the wood crackled and burned, he chewed his lower lip, gathering his courage to speak.
“Guys … I … I have something to tell you,” he managed.
His three traveling companions looked at him. Vanariel snapped her spellbook shut and drew her staff. “What is it? An ambush? I told you guys I saw goblin-sign back there!”
“No, no! Not goblins!” Theldon said, holding his hands out. “It’s … it’s about me.”
Shiny Pete smirked. “What? You got the whore’s itch or something? Nothing to be ashamed of, buddy. Happened to us all once or twice.”
Dagmar glowered at the rogue from under bushy eyebrows. “Or mayhap a good number of times more than that.”
“No! It's not a disease either! It’s just …” Theldon took a deep breath. “Guys … I’m … I’m a doppelganger."
The three of them shared a long look, and then Vanariel and Shiny Pete burst out laughing. Dagmar’s glower deepened. “That’s no’ funny, lad,” he growled.
Vanariel and Shiny Pete stopped laughing. “Wait, wait,” the rogue said, “Dagmar, you didn’t *know?*”
Theldon looked shocked. “Wait, you guys *knew?*”
The elven woman tittered. “You’re not the shapeshifter you think you are. The real Theldon was an asshole.”
“Total dickwad,” Shiny Pete agreed. “In, like, every conceivable way.”
Dagmar leapt to his feet, drawing his axe. “You mean this is no’ a joke?” he roared, advancing on Theldon. “Die, fiend!”
As one, Vanariel and Shiny Pete placed themselves between the enraged dwarf and the doppleganger. “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Shiny Pete yelled. “This might not be the original Theldon, but he’s been with us for almost a year now. He was the guy who stood over you after you got paralyzed by a ghoul.”
“He took point when we fought that dragon,” Vanariel continued.
“Hell, he got in the face of evil sorcerer while you were busy chopping up his henchmen,” Shiny Pete added.
“Those henchmen represented a serious threat!” Dagmar retorted, “And it was no' like it was a full-grown dragon. Only a wee one!”
In unison, Valariel and Shiny Pete rolled their eyes. Dagmar glowered some more. He was good at it, and he liked to play to his strengths. At last the dwarf made a humphing noise and lowered his axe. Valariel sat down and opened her spellbook again. “Okay, that’s over right? We can get back to the adventuring?”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Pete said. Dagmar only grunted.
“Did you guys really know?” Theldon asked, still somewhat wary of the dwarf.
“Oh, yeah. I mean, it was kind of suspicious how he was dying of jungle rot one day and completely fine the next. But you’re really not much like the original Theldon at all. First of all, you’re actually useful in combat. And second of all, you’re a decent guy. I mean, I can have an ale with you and not worry that you’re going to stiff me on the check,” Pete said.
“Or stare at my tits while I’m trancing. Or grab my ass when I’m trying to brew potions,” Vanariel added. “And the ear jokes. Ugh, the original Theldon was such a creep. Why did we even keep him around?”
"Good question," Pete said. "I mean, I asked myself that a bunch of times after we got new Theldon. 'Why did we even keep that tool around in the first place?'"
“So you guys don’t even care that I’m a shapeshifter?”
“Not really, no,” Pete said. “I worked with lots of different people when I was in the Thieves’ Guild. Changelings weren’t any more likely to try killing me in my sleep than humans or half-elves. In my experience, everyone’s pretty human when you get down to it.”
“Hey! Speak for yourself, round-ears,” Vanariel said with half of a smile. “But nevertheless, I agree with the sentiment.”
“Oh,” Theldon said. He sat in own thoughts for a moment. “Thanks, guys. That means a lot to me.”
“Don’t mention it,” Pete said, and Vanariel nodded in agreement.
The evening passed in silence. Shiny Pete honed his daggers, and Vanariel memorized her spells. Dagmar and Theldon each sat in silence, alone with his thoughts.
At last the dwarf spoke. “Lad,” he asked the doppleganger, “have you ever tried maybe not being a shapeshifter?”
| I added a little twist but I think it's still good, non the less. Here.
"AAHHH! Tavian! I need your help!"
"What can I do?"
"Ray of Frost!? Something! ANYTHING! JUST GET THIS THING OFF ME!"
A small harmless slug had fallen onto Yeralia's shoulder, while the party was traveling out of the Forest of Traggleroot. Tavian, being a Barbarian, simply flicked the slug off of her. Saviak and Prantin were watching the whole debacle take place, giggling like goblins about to botch an ambush.
“You do know I'm not an Eldritch Knight, right?”
"Thank you Tavian, I know,” she said, wiping away the slime, “I can always rely on you."
"Even when I almost sacrificed you to my gods?"
Yeralia simply forgot that ever happened.
“Well, let's let bygones be bygones, eh, Tavian?”
“That not like the Yer…”
“Uppupupup!,” Saviak interrupted, covering Tavians mouth. There was a brief pause. He continues, “We just defeated a shapeshifter! Let's go celebrate at the tavern and… Prantin can play the lute as we venture to town! Yeah, sound like a plan?”
Saviak releases Tavians mouth, “Uh.. sure! I am ready to get our reward! How about we get going? I need to mourn the loss Kenneth.”
Tavian didn't know Yeralia was actually the shapeshifter. Saviak was a smooth talker, some paladins are, and Tavian doesn't have very much intelligence, most Barbarians don't. The party walk along the path while Prantin plays his lute like a pro. He began to sing a song.
“In memory of Kenneth, the Thief that broke the rules, taught us the Cant and then was shot by the thieves guild. How bad. Sooooo saaad!”
“He didn't teach me or Yeralia Thieves Cant.” Tavian barked.
Prantin replied in singsong, “That's because you and the mage were really druuunk!”
“Oh… good point,” Tavian realized.
“Isn’t thieves cant like secret messages people can share in the open?,” said Yeralia.
“If Kenneth was here he’d say, ‘...maybe.’ I think his carefree nature is what caused the guild to turn on him.” Saviak answered. “By the way… I’ll sing with yoooou, Prantin,”
“Okay! Let's sing, 'Lucky Man's Strife?!’ an improv song from the Bards College,” Prantin said, winking at Saviak.
“Oh! I'd love to hear it! I can't wait!” Yeralia danced.
Prantin starts. “Well!
This is the tale of a lucky old fellow (Tavian is catching on)
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow (He might get angry)
He had friends, he had a history and now has a wife (She's not convincing enough)
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's strife! (What should we do?)
I had a note that led me to it, a house on the hill (We need to tell him)
To ask for the charm. The luck and the will. (or at least hint at it)
He told me No! And he went on his way (he might leave or… worse)
He took for the hills, there was no time to stay! (Do you have an idea?)”
Saviak joins in the chorus,
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow (Tavian is catching on)
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow (He might get angry)
He had friends, he had a history , now he has a wife(She's not convincing enough)
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's strife (What should we do?)”
Saviak replies, in verse,
“I followed the man, he walked steadfast (He might not care though)
He look so tired, he was ready to pass (if he's angry he'll get over it)
I soon found out; the old man had a wife(we can change the subject to her now)
And was dumb struck with fear, as she came with a knife. (She was a back stabbing woman)”
Both Tavian and Yeralia join,
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow,
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow!
He had friends, he had a history, he now has a wife
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's Strife!”
Tavian sings, off key the entire time,
“The wife came up and shouted, almost caught me in the neck. (???)
I'm know I had to duck, so I hit the deck! (???)
I was pointed to the house, told to go in. (???)
The old man came too, he gave me a pin.(???)
They're all singing as the walk into the town. The tavern was near the entrance of the town so they walked in, still singing,
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow,
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow!
He had friends, he had a history, he now has a wife
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's Strife!”
The party sits down and Yeralia finishes the song with great finesse,
“The pin looked like silver, but I know my steel (You know, don't you?)
I felt ripped off, I know how you feel(I could bring her back if you want me to)"
Prantin and Savaik sing in unison reply,
“I took the grey pin, and I'm filled with glee! (We like you way more)
Now I am a man who is just as lucky! (We're glad to have you!)"
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow,
My smile became grand! Big, bright and yellow!
I had friends, I had a history, I now have a wife
But to me life is a mystery, just the lucky man's Strife!” | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | Approaching the city gate, the adventurers stiffen as the guards halt their way. Of course, Mr. Nobility has to be the one to step forward and speak for the group. Marian lightly touches her bow, prepared to ready an arrow if her arrogant companion gets them into trouble again.
"Greetings, my good men. My name is Hector of the house Rellon. Do you happen to have any directions for a band of weary travelers? We seek no conflict, only a comfortable place to rest for the night."
Sora and Fiera share a look. The last time they entered a new city, he tried to march right past the guards, drawing his sword when they stopped him. They had to find accommodations in a dingy little inn outside the city gates, where the other patrons all gave the distinct impression of being criminals.
Now, though, one guard obligingly gave them directions, and Hector... Hector actually thanked him, and clapped his back like they were old friends. The guard laughed cheerfully and sent them on their way. This was wrong. Hector didn't have friends. He didn't make friends. The only reason his companions hadn't booted him was his skill in combat, which had just barely saved them from more problems than his personality had gotten them into.
That night, as Hector remained in the common room to buy another round for the crowd... an unusual act of generosity... the others gathered in the private room they'd booked.
"Do you remember earlier today, when he left to investigate that noise in the trees?" Asked Sora.
Marian nodded. "But there was nothing there."
"I know," said Sora, "But what if he liked?"
"You think he could be under someone's control?" Fiera chimed in. "I could dispel any magic that might be around him."
Sora shook his head. "I don't think it's control. He hasn't hurt us or been irrational. He's just... *different*. I think he's been replaced."
"That's pretty far-fetched." Marian's voice was skeptical.
"It's happened before," said Sora. "Not all shapeshifters are evil. Some of them just want a safe group to live among. A family. Like what we are to Hector, even though he's an asshole who doesn't deserve us."
Fiera narrowed her eyes. "How do you know so much about shapeshifters?"
Sora sighed. It was time to come clean. "Because I'm one of them. You guys didn't know the real Sora. He tried to raid my nest. Would have gotten a good part of my family killed, as well as his whole group, if I hadn't taken his place. Foolhardy bastard. His friends figured me out, though. I barely escaped, and by then I was used to this form."
"No." Fiera shook her head. "You can't just replace people. The real Hector..."
"The real Hector didn't give a toss about any of us," said Marian. "Do you really think he's worth our compassion? When was the last time he extended any to you?"
Fiera was quiet for a minute, remembering the time she'd broken a leg fighting a troll. And Hector elected to carry the troll's treasure chest out of the dungeon, leaving her to hobble after him using a giant club as a makeshift crutch. "I guess if this shapeshifter is anything like you, Sora, it's probably an improvement."
"I know I was," commented Marian. "My new parents must have known something was different, but the family got along so much better with me in her place that they never questioned it."
Fiera stood from her chair, backing toward the door. "Are you shapeshifters going to replace everybody?"
"No," said Sora and Marian simultaneously.
Sora continued. "You're a good person, Fiera. We only take the place of assholes. People whose absence would actually improve things. For everybody, not just those of us who can change our form. Trust me, Fiera." He smiled, the friendly expression that Fiera had come to find reassuring after the years they'd spent together. "You have nothing to worry about." | I added a little twist but I think it's still good, non the less. Here.
"AAHHH! Tavian! I need your help!"
"What can I do?"
"Ray of Frost!? Something! ANYTHING! JUST GET THIS THING OFF ME!"
A small harmless slug had fallen onto Yeralia's shoulder, while the party was traveling out of the Forest of Traggleroot. Tavian, being a Barbarian, simply flicked the slug off of her. Saviak and Prantin were watching the whole debacle take place, giggling like goblins about to botch an ambush.
“You do know I'm not an Eldritch Knight, right?”
"Thank you Tavian, I know,” she said, wiping away the slime, “I can always rely on you."
"Even when I almost sacrificed you to my gods?"
Yeralia simply forgot that ever happened.
“Well, let's let bygones be bygones, eh, Tavian?”
“That not like the Yer…”
“Uppupupup!,” Saviak interrupted, covering Tavians mouth. There was a brief pause. He continues, “We just defeated a shapeshifter! Let's go celebrate at the tavern and… Prantin can play the lute as we venture to town! Yeah, sound like a plan?”
Saviak releases Tavians mouth, “Uh.. sure! I am ready to get our reward! How about we get going? I need to mourn the loss Kenneth.”
Tavian didn't know Yeralia was actually the shapeshifter. Saviak was a smooth talker, some paladins are, and Tavian doesn't have very much intelligence, most Barbarians don't. The party walk along the path while Prantin plays his lute like a pro. He began to sing a song.
“In memory of Kenneth, the Thief that broke the rules, taught us the Cant and then was shot by the thieves guild. How bad. Sooooo saaad!”
“He didn't teach me or Yeralia Thieves Cant.” Tavian barked.
Prantin replied in singsong, “That's because you and the mage were really druuunk!”
“Oh… good point,” Tavian realized.
“Isn’t thieves cant like secret messages people can share in the open?,” said Yeralia.
“If Kenneth was here he’d say, ‘...maybe.’ I think his carefree nature is what caused the guild to turn on him.” Saviak answered. “By the way… I’ll sing with yoooou, Prantin,”
“Okay! Let's sing, 'Lucky Man's Strife?!’ an improv song from the Bards College,” Prantin said, winking at Saviak.
“Oh! I'd love to hear it! I can't wait!” Yeralia danced.
Prantin starts. “Well!
This is the tale of a lucky old fellow (Tavian is catching on)
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow (He might get angry)
He had friends, he had a history and now has a wife (She's not convincing enough)
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's strife! (What should we do?)
I had a note that led me to it, a house on the hill (We need to tell him)
To ask for the charm. The luck and the will. (or at least hint at it)
He told me No! And he went on his way (he might leave or… worse)
He took for the hills, there was no time to stay! (Do you have an idea?)”
Saviak joins in the chorus,
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow (Tavian is catching on)
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow (He might get angry)
He had friends, he had a history , now he has a wife(She's not convincing enough)
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's strife (What should we do?)”
Saviak replies, in verse,
“I followed the man, he walked steadfast (He might not care though)
He look so tired, he was ready to pass (if he's angry he'll get over it)
I soon found out; the old man had a wife(we can change the subject to her now)
And was dumb struck with fear, as she came with a knife. (She was a back stabbing woman)”
Both Tavian and Yeralia join,
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow,
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow!
He had friends, he had a history, he now has a wife
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's Strife!”
Tavian sings, off key the entire time,
“The wife came up and shouted, almost caught me in the neck. (???)
I'm know I had to duck, so I hit the deck! (???)
I was pointed to the house, told to go in. (???)
The old man came too, he gave me a pin.(???)
They're all singing as the walk into the town. The tavern was near the entrance of the town so they walked in, still singing,
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow,
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow!
He had friends, he had a history, he now has a wife
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's Strife!”
The party sits down and Yeralia finishes the song with great finesse,
“The pin looked like silver, but I know my steel (You know, don't you?)
I felt ripped off, I know how you feel(I could bring her back if you want me to)"
Prantin and Savaik sing in unison reply,
“I took the grey pin, and I'm filled with glee! (We like you way more)
Now I am a man who is just as lucky! (We're glad to have you!)"
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow,
My smile became grand! Big, bright and yellow!
I had friends, I had a history, I now have a wife
But to me life is a mystery, just the lucky man's Strife!” | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | Approaching the city gate, the adventurers stiffen as the guards halt their way. Of course, Mr. Nobility has to be the one to step forward and speak for the group. Marian lightly touches her bow, prepared to ready an arrow if her arrogant companion gets them into trouble again.
"Greetings, my good men. My name is Hector of the house Rellon. Do you happen to have any directions for a band of weary travelers? We seek no conflict, only a comfortable place to rest for the night."
Sora and Fiera share a look. The last time they entered a new city, he tried to march right past the guards, drawing his sword when they stopped him. They had to find accommodations in a dingy little inn outside the city gates, where the other patrons all gave the distinct impression of being criminals.
Now, though, one guard obligingly gave them directions, and Hector... Hector actually thanked him, and clapped his back like they were old friends. The guard laughed cheerfully and sent them on their way. This was wrong. Hector didn't have friends. He didn't make friends. The only reason his companions hadn't booted him was his skill in combat, which had just barely saved them from more problems than his personality had gotten them into.
That night, as Hector remained in the common room to buy another round for the crowd... an unusual act of generosity... the others gathered in the private room they'd booked.
"Do you remember earlier today, when he left to investigate that noise in the trees?" Asked Sora.
Marian nodded. "But there was nothing there."
"I know," said Sora, "But what if he lied?"
"You think he could be under someone's control?" Fiera chimed in. "I could dispel any magic that might be around him."
Sora shook his head. "I don't think it's control. He hasn't hurt us or been irrational. He's just... *different*. I think he's been replaced."
"That's pretty far-fetched." Marian's voice was skeptical.
"It's happened before," said Sora. "Not all shapeshifters are evil. Some of them just want a safe group to live among. A family. Like what we are to Hector, even though he's an asshole who doesn't deserve us."
Fiera narrowed her eyes. "How do you know so much about shapeshifters?"
Sora sighed. It was time to come clean. "Because I'm one of them. You guys didn't know the real Sora. He tried to raid my nest. Would have gotten a good part of my family killed, as well as his whole group, if I hadn't taken his place. Foolhardy bastard. His friends figured me out, though. I barely escaped, and by then I was used to this form."
"No." Fiera shook her head. "You can't just replace people. The real Hector..."
"The real Hector didn't give a toss about any of us," said Marian. "Do you really think he's worth our compassion? When was the last time he extended any to you?"
Fiera was quiet for a minute, remembering the time she'd broken a leg fighting a troll. And Hector elected to carry the troll's treasure chest out of the dungeon, leaving her to hobble after him using a giant club as a makeshift crutch. "I guess if this shapeshifter is anything like you, Sora, it's probably an improvement."
"I know I was," commented Marian. "My new parents must have known something was different, but the family got along so much better with me in her place that they never questioned it."
Fiera stood from her chair, backing toward the door. "Are you shapeshifters going to replace everybody?"
"No," said Sora and Marian simultaneously.
Sora continued. "You're a good person, Fiera. We only take the place of assholes. People whose absence would actually improve things. For everybody, not just those of us who can change our form. Trust me, Fiera." He smiled, the friendly expression that Fiera had come to find reassuring after the years they'd spent together. "You have nothing to worry about."
Edit: typo | I added a little twist but I think it's still good, non the less. Here.
"AAHHH! Tavian! I need your help!"
"What can I do?"
"Ray of Frost!? Something! ANYTHING! JUST GET THIS THING OFF ME!"
A small harmless slug had fallen onto Yeralia's shoulder, while the party was traveling out of the Forest of Traggleroot. Tavian, being a Barbarian, simply flicked the slug off of her. Saviak and Prantin were watching the whole debacle take place, giggling like goblins about to botch an ambush.
“You do know I'm not an Eldritch Knight, right?”
"Thank you Tavian, I know,” she said, wiping away the slime, “I can always rely on you."
"Even when I almost sacrificed you to my gods?"
Yeralia simply forgot that ever happened.
“Well, let's let bygones be bygones, eh, Tavian?”
“That not like the Yer…”
“Uppupupup!,” Saviak interrupted, covering Tavians mouth. There was a brief pause. He continues, “We just defeated a shapeshifter! Let's go celebrate at the tavern and… Prantin can play the lute as we venture to town! Yeah, sound like a plan?”
Saviak releases Tavians mouth, “Uh.. sure! I am ready to get our reward! How about we get going? I need to mourn the loss Kenneth.”
Tavian didn't know Yeralia was actually the shapeshifter. Saviak was a smooth talker, some paladins are, and Tavian doesn't have very much intelligence, most Barbarians don't. The party walk along the path while Prantin plays his lute like a pro. He began to sing a song.
“In memory of Kenneth, the Thief that broke the rules, taught us the Cant and then was shot by the thieves guild. How bad. Sooooo saaad!”
“He didn't teach me or Yeralia Thieves Cant.” Tavian barked.
Prantin replied in singsong, “That's because you and the mage were really druuunk!”
“Oh… good point,” Tavian realized.
“Isn’t thieves cant like secret messages people can share in the open?,” said Yeralia.
“If Kenneth was here he’d say, ‘...maybe.’ I think his carefree nature is what caused the guild to turn on him.” Saviak answered. “By the way… I’ll sing with yoooou, Prantin,”
“Okay! Let's sing, 'Lucky Man's Strife?!’ an improv song from the Bards College,” Prantin said, winking at Saviak.
“Oh! I'd love to hear it! I can't wait!” Yeralia danced.
Prantin starts. “Well!
This is the tale of a lucky old fellow (Tavian is catching on)
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow (He might get angry)
He had friends, he had a history and now has a wife (She's not convincing enough)
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's strife! (What should we do?)
I had a note that led me to it, a house on the hill (We need to tell him)
To ask for the charm. The luck and the will. (or at least hint at it)
He told me No! And he went on his way (he might leave or… worse)
He took for the hills, there was no time to stay! (Do you have an idea?)”
Saviak joins in the chorus,
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow (Tavian is catching on)
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow (He might get angry)
He had friends, he had a history , now he has a wife(She's not convincing enough)
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's strife (What should we do?)”
Saviak replies, in verse,
“I followed the man, he walked steadfast (He might not care though)
He look so tired, he was ready to pass (if he's angry he'll get over it)
I soon found out; the old man had a wife(we can change the subject to her now)
And was dumb struck with fear, as she came with a knife. (She was a back stabbing woman)”
Both Tavian and Yeralia join,
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow,
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow!
He had friends, he had a history, he now has a wife
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's Strife!”
Tavian sings, off key the entire time,
“The wife came up and shouted, almost caught me in the neck. (???)
I'm know I had to duck, so I hit the deck! (???)
I was pointed to the house, told to go in. (???)
The old man came too, he gave me a pin.(???)
They're all singing as the walk into the town. The tavern was near the entrance of the town so they walked in, still singing,
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow,
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow!
He had friends, he had a history, he now has a wife
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's Strife!”
The party sits down and Yeralia finishes the song with great finesse,
“The pin looked like silver, but I know my steel (You know, don't you?)
I felt ripped off, I know how you feel(I could bring her back if you want me to)"
Prantin and Savaik sing in unison reply,
“I took the grey pin, and I'm filled with glee! (We like you way more)
Now I am a man who is just as lucky! (We're glad to have you!)"
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow,
My smile became grand! Big, bright and yellow!
I had friends, I had a history, I now have a wife
But to me life is a mystery, just the lucky man's Strife!” | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | The miles between them had come and gone, leaving scars and wounds and memories and laughs. The horizon that day was clear, and the world fell into green and yellow, and far away were the mountains, and everything was cloaked in a dream. They had come far. The first peaks of Lankar shimmered in an ephemeral haze.
"We've made it," Keldar said.
"Not yet."
Annastatia was worn, cut and bruised. Her eyes had dimmed some, but even the terrors of the Void had receded for the moment. She was in the present then, looking ahead, same as them all.
None had seen the mountain before. Alton had not believed in it. Haldar had said they would die before they ever crossed the river.
Now he stared with timeless eyes, eyes which had seen things from the Darkness. Eyes which had seen the birth of his kin from the still mirror waters of the Endless Caves. Those eyes had seen more than Haldar could ever have imagined.
"I guess it does exist," Alton said.
He clapped Haldar on the back. An uneasy feeling overcame him with the touch.
*It feels like him,* he thought.
And his thought travelled in the wind of the Void, that invisible world which held all the unknown things, the things that caused madness.
"Yes," Annastatia said.
She looked at Haldar.
"What?" said Keldar.
She shook her head.
They were weary and made camp on the hill. For the days past they had slept during the day, marched in the night. Their bodies were worn and tired, a piece of them all left behind in the Grey River.
*The price was worth it,* Keldar thought.
He was an older man, a knight in youth, and now his world had gone and he was alone but for adventure.
*Is it?*
He could not answer himself and the question lingered, unanswered by even Annastatia. They were quiet there on the hill. Midday came with a scarce lunch and perfunctory talk.
"I've never been so far," said Alton.
They agreed. Home had sunk away like the dying sun, and this endless night of the unknown still had miles yet to go.
"We're alive though," Keldar said.
"Yes," Annastatia said.
They looked at Haldar. Behind those eyes were the midnight of malice. But that malice reflected the sun, and then it was blue and immediate and true.
"I made it," Haldar said. "Barely by the skin of my leather, but I made it."
In the Grey River there were ancient cliffs, hills and holes. There amidst that pocked earth lived the unknown things, the things which embraced the Darkness.
In that place Haldar had fallen into the murky waters of the Grey River and its currents had taken him.
His screams had pierced the Void then, echoing even on the hill they now camped on. Annastatia winced and she saw the time as it floated past in the forever winds of that realm.
"Help!" Haldar cried.
Her hand held her staff. Every inch of her was prepared to hold it for him to grab on to. She saw it happening, feeling his weight and the rescue. And yet she hesitated.
"Help!"
She had remembered the times before. His hand caressing hers, teasing some unwanted strength, threatening in the vaguest of ways. And even then his thoughts were certain of his foul desire.
And so the river had taken him and they all had watched. They had let it happen as the waters surrounded him in an opaque cover, the burial of some unwanted pest, and they feigned the mourning as all good friends should do.
Then they were three.
But he had come back. The first trees were tall and skinny and gave little shade. Their slanting shadows were bars as they passed, looking like prisoners in a dream world, and then from that shifting prison, Haldar had come, wet and worn. The Grey River had taken much from him, he said, and he was different, completely different.
"I left more of my soul there than you," he said.
They looked at him and knew what he was, or what he wasn't. That night they discussed it in secret, and decided they would bide time before doing what must be done.
Three days had passed since then, but that time still had not come.
Sleep overcame them and they rested awhile. The falling sun awoke them to a red and orange sky and their shadows spilled past the hill.
"Statia," Alton said.
He was stretching.
"Yes?"
"I've had a bad dream. Worse than any of the others before."
"Was it of your past? The stealing in your mother's house?"
"No. No it was..."
She saw his face. She touched his head and the after images of the fading dream kindled within her.
Haldar stared beneath a blackened sky, alone and afraid. All around a great water rushed him, surrounding him with its endless sound.
The dream faded and she recoiled.
"I... I have no remedy," she said.
She looked at Haldar. The thing which pretended to be him looked at her and smiled. Though shifters like him were not connected as strongly to the Void, she could feel his thoughts in the air, like some distant food that has long been eaten.
*He means me no malice. Not like his...*
Victim. But she could not say the word.
Keldar walked to Haldar and put his hand on his shoulder.
"How is your wound?"
"Better now," Haldar said.
*He feels the same*, Keldar thought. *He really does.*
Then they packed their things and prepared for another night of walking. Lankar glittered in the night like some crystal, and yet soft as home's bed sheets on a cold night.
"What's there again?" Haldar asked.
He looked at them to see if any suspected. He thought they did. He thought he should kill them, but living in the black had not tainted his heart.
*Never have I seen such beauty as her.*
And in the moonlight Annastatia was some Queen, the kind of which no longer walks this world. Some distant being, ghost-like and tender, and yet strong and hardy with eyes opened into the real world.
*But she is Keldar's.*
And he felt sad. He felt the light on him and looked up.
*I should kill them and have her to myself.*
But she would die first before such things could happen. She would kill him then surely. They already considered the deed. He closed his eyes. The light painted him with a warmth the others could not feel.
*They have not lived in the dark,* he thought. *They are human. Weak and ignorant of the Dark, for they know not of such things.*
"Lankar," Alton said. "The mountain of Dreams. There, as legend goes, is the Spring of Dreaming. One sip of its water will change you. It will make whatever is in your heart come true."
"It can change the world physically?"
"No," said Annastatia. "But it will change *you*. It will change the spirit so that what you hold dearest will come true in a way of its own. It is not a place of wishes."
"It is like the Grey River then?" Haldar asked.
"Yes, in a sense. But it does not take. It gives and cleanses."
Then they were quiet. In their hearts they were uneasy. Haldar's death weighed immensely on them.
*The Spring will clean me,* Keldar thought.
Annastatia held him. Her face was pretty in the white light and he looked at her and loved her anew once more. He put his arm around her.
*I am an evil man,* he thought.
She looked at him with those sad eyes of hers.
*If that be true, then so are we all my love.*
He squeezed her hand.
*What hope is there then? This guilt weighs too heavy on me.*
*The Spring, as you've thought. The Spring is our only hope. Haldar was a fool. The River took him of its own choosing. His heart was black, blacker than this imposter.*
"I like you," Alton said to Haldar. "I don't know if you understand, but I'll be truthful. I like you."
And Haldar, the thing, understood as much. It too had thoughts that raged in an incomprehensible storm.
"I like you too," he said. "All of you."
"Then may the Spring save us," Keldar said.
And they marched in silence as the night slowly passed.
-
*Hi there! If you liked this story, please consider my subreddit r/PanMan. It has all my WP stories as well as some original ones. I'm slowly working on it and getting it to look nicer, so I promise it will look better soon. Thank you!* | I added a little twist but I think it's still good, non the less. Here.
"AAHHH! Tavian! I need your help!"
"What can I do?"
"Ray of Frost!? Something! ANYTHING! JUST GET THIS THING OFF ME!"
A small harmless slug had fallen onto Yeralia's shoulder, while the party was traveling out of the Forest of Traggleroot. Tavian, being a Barbarian, simply flicked the slug off of her. Saviak and Prantin were watching the whole debacle take place, giggling like goblins about to botch an ambush.
“You do know I'm not an Eldritch Knight, right?”
"Thank you Tavian, I know,” she said, wiping away the slime, “I can always rely on you."
"Even when I almost sacrificed you to my gods?"
Yeralia simply forgot that ever happened.
“Well, let's let bygones be bygones, eh, Tavian?”
“That not like the Yer…”
“Uppupupup!,” Saviak interrupted, covering Tavians mouth. There was a brief pause. He continues, “We just defeated a shapeshifter! Let's go celebrate at the tavern and… Prantin can play the lute as we venture to town! Yeah, sound like a plan?”
Saviak releases Tavians mouth, “Uh.. sure! I am ready to get our reward! How about we get going? I need to mourn the loss Kenneth.”
Tavian didn't know Yeralia was actually the shapeshifter. Saviak was a smooth talker, some paladins are, and Tavian doesn't have very much intelligence, most Barbarians don't. The party walk along the path while Prantin plays his lute like a pro. He began to sing a song.
“In memory of Kenneth, the Thief that broke the rules, taught us the Cant and then was shot by the thieves guild. How bad. Sooooo saaad!”
“He didn't teach me or Yeralia Thieves Cant.” Tavian barked.
Prantin replied in singsong, “That's because you and the mage were really druuunk!”
“Oh… good point,” Tavian realized.
“Isn’t thieves cant like secret messages people can share in the open?,” said Yeralia.
“If Kenneth was here he’d say, ‘...maybe.’ I think his carefree nature is what caused the guild to turn on him.” Saviak answered. “By the way… I’ll sing with yoooou, Prantin,”
“Okay! Let's sing, 'Lucky Man's Strife?!’ an improv song from the Bards College,” Prantin said, winking at Saviak.
“Oh! I'd love to hear it! I can't wait!” Yeralia danced.
Prantin starts. “Well!
This is the tale of a lucky old fellow (Tavian is catching on)
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow (He might get angry)
He had friends, he had a history and now has a wife (She's not convincing enough)
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's strife! (What should we do?)
I had a note that led me to it, a house on the hill (We need to tell him)
To ask for the charm. The luck and the will. (or at least hint at it)
He told me No! And he went on his way (he might leave or… worse)
He took for the hills, there was no time to stay! (Do you have an idea?)”
Saviak joins in the chorus,
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow (Tavian is catching on)
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow (He might get angry)
He had friends, he had a history , now he has a wife(She's not convincing enough)
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's strife (What should we do?)”
Saviak replies, in verse,
“I followed the man, he walked steadfast (He might not care though)
He look so tired, he was ready to pass (if he's angry he'll get over it)
I soon found out; the old man had a wife(we can change the subject to her now)
And was dumb struck with fear, as she came with a knife. (She was a back stabbing woman)”
Both Tavian and Yeralia join,
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow,
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow!
He had friends, he had a history, he now has a wife
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's Strife!”
Tavian sings, off key the entire time,
“The wife came up and shouted, almost caught me in the neck. (???)
I'm know I had to duck, so I hit the deck! (???)
I was pointed to the house, told to go in. (???)
The old man came too, he gave me a pin.(???)
They're all singing as the walk into the town. The tavern was near the entrance of the town so they walked in, still singing,
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow,
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow!
He had friends, he had a history, he now has a wife
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's Strife!”
The party sits down and Yeralia finishes the song with great finesse,
“The pin looked like silver, but I know my steel (You know, don't you?)
I felt ripped off, I know how you feel(I could bring her back if you want me to)"
Prantin and Savaik sing in unison reply,
“I took the grey pin, and I'm filled with glee! (We like you way more)
Now I am a man who is just as lucky! (We're glad to have you!)"
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow,
My smile became grand! Big, bright and yellow!
I had friends, I had a history, I now have a wife
But to me life is a mystery, just the lucky man's Strife!” | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | The miles between them had come and gone, leaving scars and wounds and memories and laughs. The horizon that day was clear, and the world fell into green and yellow, and far away were the mountains, and everything was cloaked in a dream. They had come far. The first peaks of Lankar shimmered in an ephemeral haze.
"We've made it," Keldar said.
"Not yet."
Annastatia was worn, cut and bruised. Her eyes had dimmed some, but even the terrors of the Void had receded for the moment. She was in the present then, looking ahead, same as them all.
None had seen the mountain before. Alton had not believed in it. Haldar had said they would die before they ever crossed the river.
Now he stared with timeless eyes, eyes which had seen things from the Darkness. Eyes which had seen the birth of his kin from the still mirror waters of the Endless Caves. Those eyes had seen more than Haldar could ever have imagined.
"I guess it does exist," Alton said.
He clapped Haldar on the back. An uneasy feeling overcame him with the touch.
*It feels like him,* he thought.
And his thought travelled in the wind of the Void, that invisible world which held all the unknown things, the things that caused madness.
"Yes," Annastatia said.
She looked at Haldar.
"What?" said Keldar.
She shook her head.
They were weary and made camp on the hill. For the days past they had slept during the day, marched in the night. Their bodies were worn and tired, a piece of them all left behind in the Grey River.
*The price was worth it,* Keldar thought.
He was an older man, a knight in youth, and now his world had gone and he was alone but for adventure.
*Is it?*
He could not answer himself and the question lingered, unanswered by even Annastatia. They were quiet there on the hill. Midday came with a scarce lunch and perfunctory talk.
"I've never been so far," said Alton.
They agreed. Home had sunk away like the dying sun, and this endless night of the unknown still had miles yet to go.
"We're alive though," Keldar said.
"Yes," Annastatia said.
They looked at Haldar. Behind those eyes were the midnight of malice. But that malice reflected the sun, and then it was blue and immediate and true.
"I made it," Haldar said. "Barely by the skin of my leather, but I made it."
In the Grey River there were ancient cliffs, hills and holes. There amidst that pocked earth lived the unknown things, the things which embraced the Darkness.
In that place Haldar had fallen into the murky waters of the Grey River and its currents had taken him.
His screams had pierced the Void then, echoing even on the hill they now camped on. Annastatia winced and she saw the time as it floated past in the forever winds of that realm.
"Help!" Haldar cried.
Her hand held her staff. Every inch of her was prepared to hold it for him to grab on to. She saw it happening, feeling his weight and the rescue. And yet she hesitated.
"Help!"
She had remembered the times before. His hand caressing hers, teasing some unwanted strength, threatening in the vaguest of ways. And even then his thoughts were certain of his foul desire.
And so the river had taken him and they all had watched. They had let it happen as the waters surrounded him in an opaque cover, the burial of some unwanted pest, and they feigned the mourning as all good friends should do.
Then they were three.
But he had come back. The first trees were tall and skinny and gave little shade. Their slanting shadows were bars as they passed, looking like prisoners in a dream world, and then from that shifting prison, Haldar had come, wet and worn. The Grey River had taken much from him, he said, and he was different, completely different.
"I left more of my soul there than you," he said.
They looked at him and knew what he was, or what he wasn't. That night they discussed it in secret, and decided they would bide time before doing what must be done.
Three days had passed since then, but that time still had not come.
Sleep overcame them and they rested awhile. The falling sun awoke them to a red and orange sky and their shadows spilled past the hill.
"Statia," Alton said.
He was stretching.
"Yes?"
"I've had a bad dream. Worse than any of the others before."
"Was it of your past? The stealing in your mother's house?"
"No. No it was..."
She saw his face. She touched his head and the after images of the fading dream kindled within her.
Haldar stared beneath a blackened sky, alone and afraid. All around a great water rushed him, surrounding him with its endless sound.
The dream faded and she recoiled.
"I... I have no remedy," she said.
She looked at Haldar. The thing which pretended to be him looked at her and smiled. Though shifters like him were not connected as strongly to the Void, she could feel his thoughts in the air, like some distant food that has long been eaten.
*He means me no malice. Not like his...*
Victim. But she could not say the word.
Keldar walked to Haldar and put his hand on his shoulder.
"How is your wound?"
"Better now," Haldar said.
*He feels the same*, Keldar thought. *He really does.*
Then they packed their things and prepared for another night of walking. Lankar glittered in the night like some crystal, and yet soft as home's bed sheets on a cold night.
"What's there again?" Haldar asked.
He looked at them to see if any suspected. He thought they did. He thought he should kill them, but living in the black had not tainted his heart.
*Never have I seen such beauty as her.*
And in the moonlight Annastatia was some Queen, the kind of which no longer walks this world. Some distant being, ghost-like and tender, and yet strong and hardy with eyes opened into the real world.
*But she is Keldar's.*
And he felt sad. He felt the light on him and looked up.
*I should kill them and have her to myself.*
But she would die first before such things could happen. She would kill him then surely. They already considered the deed. He closed his eyes. The light painted him with a warmth the others could not feel.
*They have not lived in the dark,* he thought. *They are human. Weak and ignorant of the Dark, for they know not of such things.*
"Lankar," Alton said. "The mountain of Dreams. There, as legend goes, is the Spring of Dreaming. One sip of its water will change you. It will make whatever is in your heart come true."
"It can change the world physically?"
"No," said Annastatia. "But it will change *you*. It will change the spirit so that what you hold dearest will come true in a way of its own. It is not a place of wishes."
"It is like the Grey River then?" Haldar asked.
"Yes, in a sense. But it does not take. It gives and cleanses."
Then they were quiet. In their hearts they were uneasy. Haldar's death weighed immensely on them.
*The Spring will clean me,* Keldar thought.
Annastatia held him. Her face was pretty in the white light and he looked at her and loved her anew once more. He put his arm around her.
*I am an evil man,* he thought.
She looked at him with those sad eyes of hers.
*If that be true, then so are we all my love.*
He squeezed her hand.
*What hope is there then? This guilt weighs too heavy on me.*
*The Spring, as you've thought. The Spring is our only hope. Haldar was a fool. The River took him of its own choosing. His heart was black, blacker than this imposter.*
"I like you," Alton said to Haldar. "I don't know if you understand, but I'll be truthful. I like you."
And Haldar, the thing, understood as much. It too had thoughts that raged in an incomprehensible storm.
"I like you too," he said. "All of you."
"Then may the Spring save us," Keldar said.
And they marched in silence as the night slowly passed.
-
*Hi there! If you liked this story, please consider my subreddit r/PanMan. It has all my WP stories as well as some original ones. I'm slowly working on it and getting it to look nicer, so I promise it will look better soon. Thank you!* | I added a little twist but I think it's still good, non the less. Here.
"AAHHH! Tavian! I need your help!"
"What can I do?"
"Ray of Frost!? Something! ANYTHING! JUST GET THIS THING OFF ME!"
A small harmless slug had fallen onto Yeralia's shoulder, while the party was traveling out of the Forest of Traggleroot. Tavian, being a Barbarian, simply flicked the slug off of her. Saviak and Prantin were watching the whole debacle take place, giggling like goblins about to botch an ambush.
“You do know I'm not an Eldritch Knight, right?”
"Thank you Tavian, I know,” she said, wiping away the slime, “I can always rely on you."
"Even when I almost sacrificed you to my gods?"
Yeralia simply forgot that ever happened.
“Well, let's let bygones be bygones, eh, Tavian?”
“That not like the Yer…”
“Uppupupup!,” Saviak interrupted, covering Tavians mouth. There was a brief pause. He continues, “We just defeated a shapeshifter! Let's go celebrate at the tavern and… Prantin can play the lute as we venture to town! Yeah, sound like a plan?”
Saviak releases Tavians mouth, “Uh.. sure! I am ready to get our reward! How about we get going? I need to mourn the loss Kenneth.”
Tavian didn't know Yeralia was actually the shapeshifter. Saviak was a smooth talker, some paladins are, and Tavian doesn't have very much intelligence, most Barbarians don't. The party walk along the path while Prantin plays his lute like a pro. He began to sing a song.
“In memory of Kenneth, the Thief that broke the rules, taught us the Cant and then was shot by the thieves guild. How bad. Sooooo saaad!”
“He didn't teach me or Yeralia Thieves Cant.” Tavian barked.
Prantin replied in singsong, “That's because you and the mage were really druuunk!”
“Oh… good point,” Tavian realized.
“Isn’t thieves cant like secret messages people can share in the open?,” said Yeralia.
“If Kenneth was here he’d say, ‘...maybe.’ I think his carefree nature is what caused the guild to turn on him.” Saviak answered. “By the way… I’ll sing with yoooou, Prantin,”
“Okay! Let's sing, 'Lucky Man's Strife?!’ an improv song from the Bards College,” Prantin said, winking at Saviak.
“Oh! I'd love to hear it! I can't wait!” Yeralia danced.
Prantin starts. “Well!
This is the tale of a lucky old fellow (Tavian is catching on)
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow (He might get angry)
He had friends, he had a history and now has a wife (She's not convincing enough)
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's strife! (What should we do?)
I had a note that led me to it, a house on the hill (We need to tell him)
To ask for the charm. The luck and the will. (or at least hint at it)
He told me No! And he went on his way (he might leave or… worse)
He took for the hills, there was no time to stay! (Do you have an idea?)”
Saviak joins in the chorus,
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow (Tavian is catching on)
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow (He might get angry)
He had friends, he had a history , now he has a wife(She's not convincing enough)
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's strife (What should we do?)”
Saviak replies, in verse,
“I followed the man, he walked steadfast (He might not care though)
He look so tired, he was ready to pass (if he's angry he'll get over it)
I soon found out; the old man had a wife(we can change the subject to her now)
And was dumb struck with fear, as she came with a knife. (She was a back stabbing woman)”
Both Tavian and Yeralia join,
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow,
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow!
He had friends, he had a history, he now has a wife
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's Strife!”
Tavian sings, off key the entire time,
“The wife came up and shouted, almost caught me in the neck. (???)
I'm know I had to duck, so I hit the deck! (???)
I was pointed to the house, told to go in. (???)
The old man came too, he gave me a pin.(???)
They're all singing as the walk into the town. The tavern was near the entrance of the town so they walked in, still singing,
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow,
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow!
He had friends, he had a history, he now has a wife
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's Strife!”
The party sits down and Yeralia finishes the song with great finesse,
“The pin looked like silver, but I know my steel (You know, don't you?)
I felt ripped off, I know how you feel(I could bring her back if you want me to)"
Prantin and Savaik sing in unison reply,
“I took the grey pin, and I'm filled with glee! (We like you way more)
Now I am a man who is just as lucky! (We're glad to have you!)"
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow,
My smile became grand! Big, bright and yellow!
I had friends, I had a history, I now have a wife
But to me life is a mystery, just the lucky man's Strife!” | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | "That was..." Brawg began, staggering over the bodies of the fallen goblins, his boots squelching in the treacle-like blood.
"Far too..." said Vesperr, returning her bow to her back, and beginning to pluck out arrows from the deceased enemies.
"Oxyrin!" finished Oxyrin, his pointed hat falling over his eyes once again. Dribble oozed down from his mouth and his pupils spun this way and that, as if two compasses confused by magnets.
Brawg and Vesperr looked at each other for a moment, then burst out laughing. Brawg brought a thunderous hand down on the wizard's back. "Don't ever change, Oxyrin!" he said.
"Oh, Oxyrin," grinned Vesperr, "you're the reason we do this, you know? For that smile on your face." She wiped away a the spittle from his lips, then shook her finger, sending the spit plopping onto the ground.
"Oxyrin!" Oxyrin repeated. A pointed tongue darted out of his mouth and latched onto a fly that was hovering over a brutalised body below.
"I'm going to pretend I didn't just see that," said Brawg with a wink. "Okay gang, I'd say we're all done here. I believe its time to go collect our reward."
"Not so fast, my friends," came a mysterious voice from behind them. Only, when they turned, there was *nothing* behind them.
Slowly, the blue-robed wizard hazed into existence. "It is I, the *real* Oxyrin! I have been trapped for the longest time, but I have finally outsmarted my captors and have returned to my friends. For no one is as clever as the Great Oxyrin!"
Brawg and Vesperr glanced at each other, then let out a joint gasp.
"Quite you might gasp," said Oxyrin, as he turned and pointed an accusing finger at the other blue wizard, who was now on all fours chasing after a spider. "For that fellow, has fooled you, my dear friends. But he is nothing more than an impostor! A Doppelganger! A fake, a fraud, and dare I say it, a phoney."
Brawg nudged Vesperr and they both gasped again.
"How.. erm, how can we believe you?" asked Vesperr, her top lip wet with nervous sweat. "How do we know he--"she pointed to the to the wizard, who was now chewing on something--"isn't the real Oxyrin. After all, he would have had to fool us both for two entire years."
Oxyrin rolled his eyes. "Hardly a challenging task. You two never were the"--his hands burst into blue flames--"brightest sparks. Ha. Hahaha."
Brawg's muscles tensed. Vesperr put a hand against his chest.
"That's not proof enough. For our Oxyrin can also do such petty parlour tricks."
"Very well," Oxyrin sighed, "I shall prove it. We shall have a wizard-off."
"Smart," said Vesperr. She let out a high pitched whistle, at which the other Oxyrin came bounding over to her.
"Oxyrin!" he sputtered as he arrived.
"Is that all he can say? How could you *possibly* believe he was me?"
"Good point," said Brawg. "His vocabulary is much larger."
"Oh. You made a joke. How very amusing."
"Okay," said Vesperr. "Round one of the wizard-off. *Shape-shifting.*"
"What? What a stupid round," complained Oxyrin, "for sniffing out a shape-shifter!" His face was red and a vein popped out of his forehead, pulsating like waves on the ocean. "Unbelievable idiocy. How you have possibly survived this long without me to guide you -- heaven only knows!"
"Oxyrin!" replied the other Oxyrin.
"Well, if you can't do it and he can..." said Brawg shrugging, "then I guess we know who the real wizard is."
"Oh... *pish!* Very well. And what must we change into, pray tell?"
"Something very small. To really challenge your morphitisation skills. A fly. Simple. First one to transform into a fly wins."
"Sala kazoo, Sala kazam!" shouted Oxyrin. There was a puff of smoke that left Vesperr and Brawg coughing. As it cleared, and only for the briefest moment, they saw a fly. Then, they saw a huge, pointed tongue. Finally, they saw an Oxyrin chewing on and then swallowing *something*.
"Oxyrin!" he shouted triumphantly, as Brawg and Vesperr collapsed into a fit of laughter.
"Oh Oxyrin," said Brawg, slapping him on the back "you really are too much."
"And," said Vesperr, "we wouldn't have it any other way!"
| I added a little twist but I think it's still good, non the less. Here.
"AAHHH! Tavian! I need your help!"
"What can I do?"
"Ray of Frost!? Something! ANYTHING! JUST GET THIS THING OFF ME!"
A small harmless slug had fallen onto Yeralia's shoulder, while the party was traveling out of the Forest of Traggleroot. Tavian, being a Barbarian, simply flicked the slug off of her. Saviak and Prantin were watching the whole debacle take place, giggling like goblins about to botch an ambush.
“You do know I'm not an Eldritch Knight, right?”
"Thank you Tavian, I know,” she said, wiping away the slime, “I can always rely on you."
"Even when I almost sacrificed you to my gods?"
Yeralia simply forgot that ever happened.
“Well, let's let bygones be bygones, eh, Tavian?”
“That not like the Yer…”
“Uppupupup!,” Saviak interrupted, covering Tavians mouth. There was a brief pause. He continues, “We just defeated a shapeshifter! Let's go celebrate at the tavern and… Prantin can play the lute as we venture to town! Yeah, sound like a plan?”
Saviak releases Tavians mouth, “Uh.. sure! I am ready to get our reward! How about we get going? I need to mourn the loss Kenneth.”
Tavian didn't know Yeralia was actually the shapeshifter. Saviak was a smooth talker, some paladins are, and Tavian doesn't have very much intelligence, most Barbarians don't. The party walk along the path while Prantin plays his lute like a pro. He began to sing a song.
“In memory of Kenneth, the Thief that broke the rules, taught us the Cant and then was shot by the thieves guild. How bad. Sooooo saaad!”
“He didn't teach me or Yeralia Thieves Cant.” Tavian barked.
Prantin replied in singsong, “That's because you and the mage were really druuunk!”
“Oh… good point,” Tavian realized.
“Isn’t thieves cant like secret messages people can share in the open?,” said Yeralia.
“If Kenneth was here he’d say, ‘...maybe.’ I think his carefree nature is what caused the guild to turn on him.” Saviak answered. “By the way… I’ll sing with yoooou, Prantin,”
“Okay! Let's sing, 'Lucky Man's Strife?!’ an improv song from the Bards College,” Prantin said, winking at Saviak.
“Oh! I'd love to hear it! I can't wait!” Yeralia danced.
Prantin starts. “Well!
This is the tale of a lucky old fellow (Tavian is catching on)
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow (He might get angry)
He had friends, he had a history and now has a wife (She's not convincing enough)
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's strife! (What should we do?)
I had a note that led me to it, a house on the hill (We need to tell him)
To ask for the charm. The luck and the will. (or at least hint at it)
He told me No! And he went on his way (he might leave or… worse)
He took for the hills, there was no time to stay! (Do you have an idea?)”
Saviak joins in the chorus,
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow (Tavian is catching on)
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow (He might get angry)
He had friends, he had a history , now he has a wife(She's not convincing enough)
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's strife (What should we do?)”
Saviak replies, in verse,
“I followed the man, he walked steadfast (He might not care though)
He look so tired, he was ready to pass (if he's angry he'll get over it)
I soon found out; the old man had a wife(we can change the subject to her now)
And was dumb struck with fear, as she came with a knife. (She was a back stabbing woman)”
Both Tavian and Yeralia join,
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow,
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow!
He had friends, he had a history, he now has a wife
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's Strife!”
Tavian sings, off key the entire time,
“The wife came up and shouted, almost caught me in the neck. (???)
I'm know I had to duck, so I hit the deck! (???)
I was pointed to the house, told to go in. (???)
The old man came too, he gave me a pin.(???)
They're all singing as the walk into the town. The tavern was near the entrance of the town so they walked in, still singing,
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow,
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow!
He had friends, he had a history, he now has a wife
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's Strife!”
The party sits down and Yeralia finishes the song with great finesse,
“The pin looked like silver, but I know my steel (You know, don't you?)
I felt ripped off, I know how you feel(I could bring her back if you want me to)"
Prantin and Savaik sing in unison reply,
“I took the grey pin, and I'm filled with glee! (We like you way more)
Now I am a man who is just as lucky! (We're glad to have you!)"
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow,
My smile became grand! Big, bright and yellow!
I had friends, I had a history, I now have a wife
But to me life is a mystery, just the lucky man's Strife!” | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | "That was..." Brawg began, staggering over the bodies of the fallen goblins, his boots squelching in the treacle-like blood.
"Far too..." said Vesperr, returning her bow to her back, and beginning to pluck out arrows from the deceased enemies.
"Oxyrin!" finished Oxyrin, his pointed hat falling over his eyes once again. Dribble oozed down from his mouth and his pupils spun this way and that, as if two compasses confused by magnets.
Brawg and Vesperr looked at each other for a moment, then burst out laughing. Brawg brought a thunderous hand down on the wizard's back. "Don't ever change, Oxyrin!" he said.
"Oh, Oxyrin," grinned Vesperr, "you're the reason we do this, you know? For that smile on your face." She wiped away a the spittle from his lips, then shook her finger, sending the spit plopping onto the ground.
"Oxyrin!" Oxyrin repeated. A pointed tongue darted out of his mouth and latched onto a fly that was hovering over a brutalised body below.
"I'm going to pretend I didn't just see that," said Brawg with a wink. "Okay gang, I'd say we're all done here. I believe its time to go collect our reward."
"Not so fast, my friends," came a mysterious voice from behind them. Only, when they turned, there was *nothing* behind them.
Slowly, the blue-robed wizard hazed into existence. "It is I, the *real* Oxyrin! I have been trapped for the longest time, but I have finally outsmarted my captors and have returned to my friends. For no one is as clever as the Great Oxyrin!"
Brawg and Vesperr glanced at each other, then let out a joint gasp.
"Quite you might gasp," said Oxyrin, as he turned and pointed an accusing finger at the other blue wizard, who was now on all fours chasing after a spider. "For that fellow, has fooled you, my dear friends. But he is nothing more than an impostor! A Doppelganger! A fake, a fraud, and dare I say it, a phoney."
Brawg nudged Vesperr and they both gasped again.
"How.. erm, how can we believe you?" asked Vesperr, her top lip wet with nervous sweat. "How do we know he--"she pointed to the to the wizard, who was now chewing on something--"isn't the real Oxyrin. After all, he would have had to fool us both for two entire years."
Oxyrin rolled his eyes. "Hardly a challenging task. You two never were the"--his hands burst into blue flames--"brightest sparks. Ha. Hahaha."
Brawg's muscles tensed. Vesperr put a hand against his chest.
"That's not proof enough. For our Oxyrin can also do such petty parlour tricks."
"Very well," Oxyrin sighed, "I shall prove it. We shall have a wizard-off."
"Smart," said Vesperr. She let out a high pitched whistle, at which the other Oxyrin came bounding over to her.
"Oxyrin!" he sputtered as he arrived.
"Is that all he can say? How could you *possibly* believe he was me?"
"Good point," said Brawg. "His vocabulary is much larger."
"Oh. You made a joke. How very amusing."
"Okay," said Vesperr. "Round one of the wizard-off. *Shape-shifting.*"
"What? What a stupid round," complained Oxyrin, "for sniffing out a shape-shifter!" His face was red and a vein popped out of his forehead, pulsating like waves on the ocean. "Unbelievable idiocy. How you have possibly survived this long without me to guide you -- heaven only knows!"
"Oxyrin!" replied the other Oxyrin.
"Well, if you can't do it and he can..." said Brawg shrugging, "then I guess we know who the real wizard is."
"Oh... *pish!* Very well. And what must we change into, pray tell?"
"Something very small. To really challenge your morphitisation skills. A fly. Simple. First one to transform into a fly wins."
"Sala kazoo, Sala kazam!" shouted Oxyrin. There was a puff of smoke that left Vesperr and Brawg coughing. As it cleared, and only for the briefest moment, they saw a fly. Then, they saw a huge, pointed tongue. Finally, they saw an Oxyrin chewing on and then swallowing *something*.
"Oxyrin!" he shouted triumphantly, as Brawg and Vesperr collapsed into a fit of laughter.
"Oh Oxyrin," said Brawg, slapping him on the back "you really are too much."
"And," said Vesperr, "we wouldn't have it any other way!"
| I added a little twist but I think it's still good, non the less. Here.
"AAHHH! Tavian! I need your help!"
"What can I do?"
"Ray of Frost!? Something! ANYTHING! JUST GET THIS THING OFF ME!"
A small harmless slug had fallen onto Yeralia's shoulder, while the party was traveling out of the Forest of Traggleroot. Tavian, being a Barbarian, simply flicked the slug off of her. Saviak and Prantin were watching the whole debacle take place, giggling like goblins about to botch an ambush.
“You do know I'm not an Eldritch Knight, right?”
"Thank you Tavian, I know,” she said, wiping away the slime, “I can always rely on you."
"Even when I almost sacrificed you to my gods?"
Yeralia simply forgot that ever happened.
“Well, let's let bygones be bygones, eh, Tavian?”
“That not like the Yer…”
“Uppupupup!,” Saviak interrupted, covering Tavians mouth. There was a brief pause. He continues, “We just defeated a shapeshifter! Let's go celebrate at the tavern and… Prantin can play the lute as we venture to town! Yeah, sound like a plan?”
Saviak releases Tavians mouth, “Uh.. sure! I am ready to get our reward! How about we get going? I need to mourn the loss Kenneth.”
Tavian didn't know Yeralia was actually the shapeshifter. Saviak was a smooth talker, some paladins are, and Tavian doesn't have very much intelligence, most Barbarians don't. The party walk along the path while Prantin plays his lute like a pro. He began to sing a song.
“In memory of Kenneth, the Thief that broke the rules, taught us the Cant and then was shot by the thieves guild. How bad. Sooooo saaad!”
“He didn't teach me or Yeralia Thieves Cant.” Tavian barked.
Prantin replied in singsong, “That's because you and the mage were really druuunk!”
“Oh… good point,” Tavian realized.
“Isn’t thieves cant like secret messages people can share in the open?,” said Yeralia.
“If Kenneth was here he’d say, ‘...maybe.’ I think his carefree nature is what caused the guild to turn on him.” Saviak answered. “By the way… I’ll sing with yoooou, Prantin,”
“Okay! Let's sing, 'Lucky Man's Strife?!’ an improv song from the Bards College,” Prantin said, winking at Saviak.
“Oh! I'd love to hear it! I can't wait!” Yeralia danced.
Prantin starts. “Well!
This is the tale of a lucky old fellow (Tavian is catching on)
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow (He might get angry)
He had friends, he had a history and now has a wife (She's not convincing enough)
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's strife! (What should we do?)
I had a note that led me to it, a house on the hill (We need to tell him)
To ask for the charm. The luck and the will. (or at least hint at it)
He told me No! And he went on his way (he might leave or… worse)
He took for the hills, there was no time to stay! (Do you have an idea?)”
Saviak joins in the chorus,
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow (Tavian is catching on)
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow (He might get angry)
He had friends, he had a history , now he has a wife(She's not convincing enough)
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's strife (What should we do?)”
Saviak replies, in verse,
“I followed the man, he walked steadfast (He might not care though)
He look so tired, he was ready to pass (if he's angry he'll get over it)
I soon found out; the old man had a wife(we can change the subject to her now)
And was dumb struck with fear, as she came with a knife. (She was a back stabbing woman)”
Both Tavian and Yeralia join,
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow,
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow!
He had friends, he had a history, he now has a wife
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's Strife!”
Tavian sings, off key the entire time,
“The wife came up and shouted, almost caught me in the neck. (???)
I'm know I had to duck, so I hit the deck! (???)
I was pointed to the house, told to go in. (???)
The old man came too, he gave me a pin.(???)
They're all singing as the walk into the town. The tavern was near the entrance of the town so they walked in, still singing,
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow,
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow!
He had friends, he had a history, he now has a wife
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's Strife!”
The party sits down and Yeralia finishes the song with great finesse,
“The pin looked like silver, but I know my steel (You know, don't you?)
I felt ripped off, I know how you feel(I could bring her back if you want me to)"
Prantin and Savaik sing in unison reply,
“I took the grey pin, and I'm filled with glee! (We like you way more)
Now I am a man who is just as lucky! (We're glad to have you!)"
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow,
My smile became grand! Big, bright and yellow!
I had friends, I had a history, I now have a wife
But to me life is a mystery, just the lucky man's Strife!” | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | "A fine...mead?!" Rorik shouts over the din of the tavern. His companions smile and nod along with him as he sings some old barbarian tune.
Sings it wrong. They don't tell him that though.
Delia, the group's cleric leans over to their mage.
"Do you think he knows?"
Melvar just shakes his head and holds out a palm towards their massive friend. Friend as of lately, of course. Rorik was a massive pain for the group long before the shifter stole his face.
"He definitely doesn't but...I think I like him. Rorik was a bit of a jerk, always running off into the dungeons with that stupid battlecry. Remember when we went into the Crypt of Alohar, how many good people did he get killed?"
"Yeah...he's kinda cute now. Like a child or something."
They both watch Rorik move around the tavern with his mug and talk to other groups of adventurers. He's loud but not overbearing. He listens to the stories of others instead of telling his own. He drinks but not to excess. He is nothing like the barbarian they all had come to know and...
Melvar doesn't quite finish the thought.
"You know what Del, I like him. I know he's a shifter but look at everyone. We all know and he's trying so hard to be like Rorik but he just can't. I don't think there's a mean bone in that thing's body. You know that he hasn't made fun of my beard once, not in months."
She snorts. The young mage was trying so hard to grow it out and he'd been self-conscious about it for months.
A warrior passing by their table to his own party leans over and whispers it to the pair.
"You should keep him. He's an improvement."
"Friends!" Rorik shouts, sitting again at their table, "What fun! And we do this between every adventure? And people give us gold to go on those adventures? To spend here? Amazing!"
He is off again before they can even respond.
"Do you think The Dwarf knows?" Melvar watches Rorik join another random group of adventures and sing yet another song. Still wrong.
Delia shrugs.
"I don't know and I don't care. We're gonna keep him. He's like a dog or something. But useful."
Melvar strokes his "beard" for a moment.
"Alright, we'll keep him. But I swear if he ever makes fun of my beard-"
"What? You'll strangle him with one of your wisps? You should really shave, you're looking more like a magical hobo than a wizard. 'I cast: smell of unwashedness!'"
As she walks away laughing at her own joke Melvar narrows his eyes. He lifts his mug and mutters something into it before drinking.
"I'll replace you too if I have to..." | I added a little twist but I think it's still good, non the less. Here.
"AAHHH! Tavian! I need your help!"
"What can I do?"
"Ray of Frost!? Something! ANYTHING! JUST GET THIS THING OFF ME!"
A small harmless slug had fallen onto Yeralia's shoulder, while the party was traveling out of the Forest of Traggleroot. Tavian, being a Barbarian, simply flicked the slug off of her. Saviak and Prantin were watching the whole debacle take place, giggling like goblins about to botch an ambush.
“You do know I'm not an Eldritch Knight, right?”
"Thank you Tavian, I know,” she said, wiping away the slime, “I can always rely on you."
"Even when I almost sacrificed you to my gods?"
Yeralia simply forgot that ever happened.
“Well, let's let bygones be bygones, eh, Tavian?”
“That not like the Yer…”
“Uppupupup!,” Saviak interrupted, covering Tavians mouth. There was a brief pause. He continues, “We just defeated a shapeshifter! Let's go celebrate at the tavern and… Prantin can play the lute as we venture to town! Yeah, sound like a plan?”
Saviak releases Tavians mouth, “Uh.. sure! I am ready to get our reward! How about we get going? I need to mourn the loss Kenneth.”
Tavian didn't know Yeralia was actually the shapeshifter. Saviak was a smooth talker, some paladins are, and Tavian doesn't have very much intelligence, most Barbarians don't. The party walk along the path while Prantin plays his lute like a pro. He began to sing a song.
“In memory of Kenneth, the Thief that broke the rules, taught us the Cant and then was shot by the thieves guild. How bad. Sooooo saaad!”
“He didn't teach me or Yeralia Thieves Cant.” Tavian barked.
Prantin replied in singsong, “That's because you and the mage were really druuunk!”
“Oh… good point,” Tavian realized.
“Isn’t thieves cant like secret messages people can share in the open?,” said Yeralia.
“If Kenneth was here he’d say, ‘...maybe.’ I think his carefree nature is what caused the guild to turn on him.” Saviak answered. “By the way… I’ll sing with yoooou, Prantin,”
“Okay! Let's sing, 'Lucky Man's Strife?!’ an improv song from the Bards College,” Prantin said, winking at Saviak.
“Oh! I'd love to hear it! I can't wait!” Yeralia danced.
Prantin starts. “Well!
This is the tale of a lucky old fellow (Tavian is catching on)
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow (He might get angry)
He had friends, he had a history and now has a wife (She's not convincing enough)
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's strife! (What should we do?)
I had a note that led me to it, a house on the hill (We need to tell him)
To ask for the charm. The luck and the will. (or at least hint at it)
He told me No! And he went on his way (he might leave or… worse)
He took for the hills, there was no time to stay! (Do you have an idea?)”
Saviak joins in the chorus,
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow (Tavian is catching on)
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow (He might get angry)
He had friends, he had a history , now he has a wife(She's not convincing enough)
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's strife (What should we do?)”
Saviak replies, in verse,
“I followed the man, he walked steadfast (He might not care though)
He look so tired, he was ready to pass (if he's angry he'll get over it)
I soon found out; the old man had a wife(we can change the subject to her now)
And was dumb struck with fear, as she came with a knife. (She was a back stabbing woman)”
Both Tavian and Yeralia join,
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow,
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow!
He had friends, he had a history, he now has a wife
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's Strife!”
Tavian sings, off key the entire time,
“The wife came up and shouted, almost caught me in the neck. (???)
I'm know I had to duck, so I hit the deck! (???)
I was pointed to the house, told to go in. (???)
The old man came too, he gave me a pin.(???)
They're all singing as the walk into the town. The tavern was near the entrance of the town so they walked in, still singing,
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow,
Whose smile was grand! Big, bright and yellow!
He had friends, he had a history, he now has a wife
But to him life was a mystery, just the lucky man's Strife!”
The party sits down and Yeralia finishes the song with great finesse,
“The pin looked like silver, but I know my steel (You know, don't you?)
I felt ripped off, I know how you feel(I could bring her back if you want me to)"
Prantin and Savaik sing in unison reply,
“I took the grey pin, and I'm filled with glee! (We like you way more)
Now I am a man who is just as lucky! (We're glad to have you!)"
“This is the tale of a lucky old fellow,
My smile became grand! Big, bright and yellow!
I had friends, I had a history, I now have a wife
But to me life is a mystery, just the lucky man's Strife!” | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | The light was fading quickly, they needed to get camp set up. Mordram the warlock spoke an incantation, a small pile of tinder lit just below his fingertips. He began pulling some rations out of his pack. Aisha was busy praying to the setting sun, she wouldn’t help until the last glimmer of light left the western sky. Archibauld figured he’d at least use the little bugger until they decided what to do with him.
“Hey Eric, can you go get us some water from the river down there?” The orc perked up, he pointed at himself sheepishly, looking behind him to see if anyone else might be the target of the request. When he saw no one else moving, he hopped up; he immediately forgot the broken lyre that he had been trying, very unsuccessfully, to play.
“Elric fetch water? Yes, yes. Elric fetches the best water! You will see. The water for his friends! Best friends of Elric the music man!!!” He started galloping towards the river, only to have to turn back to grab the pail that he had forgotten at Archibauld’s feet.
Mordram spoke up once the orc was out of earshot, “Don’t get attached, we’ll have to do something about him soon. He’s a liability.”
Archibauld was setting up the tent, he noticed some blood stains on the yellow fabric, the original Eric had been carrying it,”He’s been following us for weeks—” Mordram’s eyebrow raised “—exactly, he wasn’t part of the ambush. He killed that bugbear once Eric went down.”
Aisha stood up, dusted off her knees, “I sense no ill will in him.”
“He’s going to slit our throats in our sleep, or bring a whole army of orcs down on us—” Mordram had set up a small pot over the fire, he just needed the water from the river.”—Also, I think it’s really creepy he’s trying to take over Eric’s identity.”
Aisha snorted, “He hasn’t hit on me a single time, so he hasn’t done that good a job.”
Archibauld moved on to his longbow, pulling out some oil and cloth, “Like I said, he’s been following us for weeks. How many times could he have tried to ambush us or bring his clan on us? I think he’s alone. Without Eric, we’re down one. The prophet said we needed four…”
Aisha jumped in, “Mordy, you didn’t even want Eric to come.”
“I don’t give a shit about Eric, he was a liability, too. I just don’t want a bloody orc staring over me while we sleep.” Mordram walked off towards the edge of camp, looking North to where they’d find their final destination.”—We do need a fourth…”
Archibauld clapped him on the shoulder, Mordram hadn’t heard him come up behind him, he hated rangers, “Thats the spirit, Mordy! We’ll have him sleep outside the tent, Aisha will let us know if she senses anything wrong with him.”
A rustle from the bushes alerted the three that their new companion was returning. He stumbled into the clearing with a full pail of water and three fish hanging from a string.
“Hullo friends of Elric my human person that I am! Hullo, Elric brings gifts of delicious fishes for eating with his best friends. Let Elric play beauty sounds while you burn delicious foods on fires because that is how humans like us eat delicious foods.” He dropped the water and fish by the fire, then hopped on his rock and began picking at the broken lyre.
Mordram exchanged a smirk with Aisha and Archibauld, “We’re very glad you’re back…Elric. Play us a human song for us to eat delicious foods.”
Elric chirped with glee, his grin taking up his whole face. | Finally....free. The thousand years of waiting, watching in this cursed statue at an end. An elf, rigid with agony as his persona, his spirit, his life is leached away. Now the malevolent spirit got his first taste of air, of blood, of form.
"Er.. Mynir, you ok?" asked a gruff voice, a question which did not raise much concern with the rest of the party.
"Death!" hissed Mynir, or the thing that Mynir had become. He stared at the
party balefully out of reddened eyes, his hands raised, claw like over his head.
This response was not unexpected, and with a nod of acknowledgement, Drake the barbarian turned away and followed the rest of the party. He dragged a small chest of gold, which would hardly pay for this outing, but he seemed cheerful enough. The dead bodies of the unfortunate orcs he kicked out of his path were likely the reason for that.
The Mynir thing was still reeling, remembering his last moments before being encased, the worst psychopath the sorcerer could find in this land, his victims so numerous they were uncounted, uncountable. (and horribly unrecognisable.) A suitable trap for the unwary, a terrible harbinger of doom with the face of a once trusted companion.
He followed the party into the fresh air, and stood a little apart as they settled a camp, built a fire, cooked a meal. A dwarf began singing a cheerful song, as jokes and banter drifted out into the cool night.
Mynir felt the hilts of two beautiful elven daggers in his hands. In a movement too swift for any but an elf to see, they cleared the scabbards and whirled around his head. Blood and screams followed. A mist of red exploded from a neck, a bone cracked as a dextrous kick twisted a knee joint out of place. A heart was pierced by a single blow. In less than a few seconds it was all over. Five bodies lay on the ground, dead or dying.
The silence that had descended over the camp was broken by Drake. "Holy Mother, how the hell did you.." He trailed off, staring in amazement.
The Dwarf leapt to his feet and rushed to hug Mynir, who accepted the affection with a small show of discomfort. "A sneaky ambush for sure, well spotted my friend. I always said you were a hidden treasure!"
For the rest of the group, the transformation of a sneaky, cowardly elf into a saving hero caused a fair amount of quiet consternation. Generally it was seen as a "good thing", considering the alternative. The shaman had cast her bones, and no harm was predicted... Maybe he had just shrugged a curse, or escaped a bedazzlement.
Mynir contemplated his situation. His new elf brain was clear and concise. and more importantly, his hugely unbalanced mental chemistry was gone. The Sorcerer was vastly mistaken. These people were his family now. Woe betide any who tried to harm them. Could he make amends for his past? He could try. | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | John, George, and Ringo were huddled together inside a secret room on the fantastical magical yellow submarine.
"George, how confident are you?"
George left his momentary silence of contemplation to say " Paul is dead man, miss him."
Ringo asks, "do you though? I mean I doubt if you guys would miss me either."
John shook his head, "we must have lost him on our way through Abby Road"
George sighed "I like the new one. I say we let it be."
A knock on the door. "You there guys? I was hoping we'd do a music number about friendship."
John looked at the others, and they nodded in agreement. John opened the door and announced, "ALL TOGETHER NOW!" | Finally....free. The thousand years of waiting, watching in this cursed statue at an end. An elf, rigid with agony as his persona, his spirit, his life is leached away. Now the malevolent spirit got his first taste of air, of blood, of form.
"Er.. Mynir, you ok?" asked a gruff voice, a question which did not raise much concern with the rest of the party.
"Death!" hissed Mynir, or the thing that Mynir had become. He stared at the
party balefully out of reddened eyes, his hands raised, claw like over his head.
This response was not unexpected, and with a nod of acknowledgement, Drake the barbarian turned away and followed the rest of the party. He dragged a small chest of gold, which would hardly pay for this outing, but he seemed cheerful enough. The dead bodies of the unfortunate orcs he kicked out of his path were likely the reason for that.
The Mynir thing was still reeling, remembering his last moments before being encased, the worst psychopath the sorcerer could find in this land, his victims so numerous they were uncounted, uncountable. (and horribly unrecognisable.) A suitable trap for the unwary, a terrible harbinger of doom with the face of a once trusted companion.
He followed the party into the fresh air, and stood a little apart as they settled a camp, built a fire, cooked a meal. A dwarf began singing a cheerful song, as jokes and banter drifted out into the cool night.
Mynir felt the hilts of two beautiful elven daggers in his hands. In a movement too swift for any but an elf to see, they cleared the scabbards and whirled around his head. Blood and screams followed. A mist of red exploded from a neck, a bone cracked as a dextrous kick twisted a knee joint out of place. A heart was pierced by a single blow. In less than a few seconds it was all over. Five bodies lay on the ground, dead or dying.
The silence that had descended over the camp was broken by Drake. "Holy Mother, how the hell did you.." He trailed off, staring in amazement.
The Dwarf leapt to his feet and rushed to hug Mynir, who accepted the affection with a small show of discomfort. "A sneaky ambush for sure, well spotted my friend. I always said you were a hidden treasure!"
For the rest of the group, the transformation of a sneaky, cowardly elf into a saving hero caused a fair amount of quiet consternation. Generally it was seen as a "good thing", considering the alternative. The shaman had cast her bones, and no harm was predicted... Maybe he had just shrugged a curse, or escaped a bedazzlement.
Mynir contemplated his situation. His new elf brain was clear and concise. and more importantly, his hugely unbalanced mental chemistry was gone. The Sorcerer was vastly mistaken. These people were his family now. Woe betide any who tried to harm them. Could he make amends for his past? He could try. | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | The tavern was alight with candles and warm fires, the smell of meats and bread wafted through to the rafters of wood and plaster. Ale stained the floor in places and the barkeep had been working on a single mug for a startling amount of time. All and all a lively place to be on this evening.
"Ah and a fine night to you as well gentlemen! Merry blessings!" The rogue said, as the men who joined him for cards departed a few coins heavier then they were at start.
"Is this not grand fellows?" The elf turned to his crew. "Ale in the air! A tavern filled with beautiful women! And my closest friend in the world." He stood then, a leg up on the top of the table, his back leg supporting him from the ground
"Ladies! Gentlemen!" He yelled, "Tonight, join me in toast to this merry band of fighters, lovers and the heroes of this town tonight! We are all thankful," he stopped to smile at his friends, the ale tinting his checks red "but I am thankful, for they are the truest of my friends" and with that he drank. The here-heres rose in strength from the crowd, and he was jostled away by the crowd with promises to be back later.
The dwarf, gnome and orc all sat in silence, looking at their drinks solemnly.
The dwarf sighed, pinching the top of his nose,
The orc had his hand in his head looking off into nothingness,
Finally the gnome chimed in, quietly, but with a resolute tone
"Okay, I'll say it. He's a much better companion then Roderick and we should do everything in our earthly powers not to mess this up."
The orc and dwarf both sighed in unanimous relief
The orc chimed in first with a hushed tone and feeling in his voice "Its like he knew what a whoreson Roderick was!" He said, sitting at attention once again " its like he knew and said to himself 'oh! These chaps look like they could use a new, better companion!' Then took it upon himself, through all the peril, to join us in disguise! All while throwing Roderick into god knows where!" He laughed. "The monster was OUR hero!"
The dwarf was next, wide eyed and hands extended to point out "Roderick" in the crowd. " look at that bloody rogue, he blends right in, they would never know they're holding possibly one of the most dangerous monsters in the land" he lowered his hands, then pointed out, " for all that, doesn't that also make him a better rogue?" They all agreed quietly.
The orc chimed in once more, tentatively, " look Roderick is a whoreson who would and almost did murder us for a small some of coin, twice." They all agreed muttering comments under their breath, " but were the you know...good guys... shouldn't we at least try to save him?"
The others were about to reluctantly agree when "Roderick" appeared before them once again
"My friends! this is as much your victory as mine! More so! Come join us, the mayor seems keen on raising our rewards! I thought it only fitting you be by my... Nay, I be by your sides during this!" He smiled warmly.
They looked at each other, shrugged and smiled
"No that's fine, we can be knaves for a night." The gnome said, stepping up from his seat. | Finally....free. The thousand years of waiting, watching in this cursed statue at an end. An elf, rigid with agony as his persona, his spirit, his life is leached away. Now the malevolent spirit got his first taste of air, of blood, of form.
"Er.. Mynir, you ok?" asked a gruff voice, a question which did not raise much concern with the rest of the party.
"Death!" hissed Mynir, or the thing that Mynir had become. He stared at the
party balefully out of reddened eyes, his hands raised, claw like over his head.
This response was not unexpected, and with a nod of acknowledgement, Drake the barbarian turned away and followed the rest of the party. He dragged a small chest of gold, which would hardly pay for this outing, but he seemed cheerful enough. The dead bodies of the unfortunate orcs he kicked out of his path were likely the reason for that.
The Mynir thing was still reeling, remembering his last moments before being encased, the worst psychopath the sorcerer could find in this land, his victims so numerous they were uncounted, uncountable. (and horribly unrecognisable.) A suitable trap for the unwary, a terrible harbinger of doom with the face of a once trusted companion.
He followed the party into the fresh air, and stood a little apart as they settled a camp, built a fire, cooked a meal. A dwarf began singing a cheerful song, as jokes and banter drifted out into the cool night.
Mynir felt the hilts of two beautiful elven daggers in his hands. In a movement too swift for any but an elf to see, they cleared the scabbards and whirled around his head. Blood and screams followed. A mist of red exploded from a neck, a bone cracked as a dextrous kick twisted a knee joint out of place. A heart was pierced by a single blow. In less than a few seconds it was all over. Five bodies lay on the ground, dead or dying.
The silence that had descended over the camp was broken by Drake. "Holy Mother, how the hell did you.." He trailed off, staring in amazement.
The Dwarf leapt to his feet and rushed to hug Mynir, who accepted the affection with a small show of discomfort. "A sneaky ambush for sure, well spotted my friend. I always said you were a hidden treasure!"
For the rest of the group, the transformation of a sneaky, cowardly elf into a saving hero caused a fair amount of quiet consternation. Generally it was seen as a "good thing", considering the alternative. The shaman had cast her bones, and no harm was predicted... Maybe he had just shrugged a curse, or escaped a bedazzlement.
Mynir contemplated his situation. His new elf brain was clear and concise. and more importantly, his hugely unbalanced mental chemistry was gone. The Sorcerer was vastly mistaken. These people were his family now. Woe betide any who tried to harm them. Could he make amends for his past? He could try. | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | John, George, and Ringo were huddled together inside a secret room on the fantastical magical yellow submarine.
"George, how confident are you?"
George left his momentary silence of contemplation to say " Paul is dead man, miss him."
Ringo asks, "do you though? I mean I doubt if you guys would miss me either."
John shook his head, "we must have lost him on our way through Abby Road"
George sighed "I like the new one. I say we let it be."
A knock on the door. "You there guys? I was hoping we'd do a music number about friendship."
John looked at the others, and they nodded in agreement. John opened the door and announced, "ALL TOGETHER NOW!" | Finally....free. The thousand years of waiting, watching in this cursed statue at an end. An elf, rigid with agony as his persona, his spirit, his life is leached away. Now the malevolent spirit got his first taste of air, of blood, of form.
"Er.. Mynir, you ok?" asked a gruff voice, a question which did not raise much concern with the rest of the party.
"Death!" hissed Mynir, or the thing that Mynir had become. He stared at the
party balefully out of reddened eyes, his hands raised, claw like over his head.
This response was not unexpected, and with a nod of acknowledgement, Drake the barbarian turned away and followed the rest of the party. He dragged a small chest of gold, which would hardly pay for this outing, but he seemed cheerful enough. The dead bodies of the unfortunate orcs he kicked out of his path were likely the reason for that.
The Mynir thing was still reeling, remembering his last moments before being encased, the worst psychopath the sorcerer could find in this land, his victims so numerous they were uncounted, uncountable. (and horribly unrecognisable.) A suitable trap for the unwary, a terrible harbinger of doom with the face of a once trusted companion.
He followed the party into the fresh air, and stood a little apart as they settled a camp, built a fire, cooked a meal. A dwarf began singing a cheerful song, as jokes and banter drifted out into the cool night.
Mynir felt the hilts of two beautiful elven daggers in his hands. In a movement too swift for any but an elf to see, they cleared the scabbards and whirled around his head. Blood and screams followed. A mist of red exploded from a neck, a bone cracked as a dextrous kick twisted a knee joint out of place. A heart was pierced by a single blow. In less than a few seconds it was all over. Five bodies lay on the ground, dead or dying.
The silence that had descended over the camp was broken by Drake. "Holy Mother, how the hell did you.." He trailed off, staring in amazement.
The Dwarf leapt to his feet and rushed to hug Mynir, who accepted the affection with a small show of discomfort. "A sneaky ambush for sure, well spotted my friend. I always said you were a hidden treasure!"
For the rest of the group, the transformation of a sneaky, cowardly elf into a saving hero caused a fair amount of quiet consternation. Generally it was seen as a "good thing", considering the alternative. The shaman had cast her bones, and no harm was predicted... Maybe he had just shrugged a curse, or escaped a bedazzlement.
Mynir contemplated his situation. His new elf brain was clear and concise. and more importantly, his hugely unbalanced mental chemistry was gone. The Sorcerer was vastly mistaken. These people were his family now. Woe betide any who tried to harm them. Could he make amends for his past? He could try. | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | The tavern was alight with candles and warm fires, the smell of meats and bread wafted through to the rafters of wood and plaster. Ale stained the floor in places and the barkeep had been working on a single mug for a startling amount of time. All and all a lively place to be on this evening.
"Ah and a fine night to you as well gentlemen! Merry blessings!" The rogue said, as the men who joined him for cards departed a few coins heavier then they were at start.
"Is this not grand fellows?" The elf turned to his crew. "Ale in the air! A tavern filled with beautiful women! And my closest friends in the world." He stood then, a leg up on the top of the table, his back leg supporting him from the ground
"Ladies! Gentlemen!" He yelled, "Tonight, join me in toast to this merry band of fighters, lovers and the heroes of this town! We are all thankful," he stopped to smile at his friends, the ale tinting his checks red "but I am thankful, for they are the truest of my friends" and with that he drank. The here-heres rose in strength from the crowd, and he was jostled away by the crowd with promises to be back later.
The dwarf, gnome and orc all sat in silence, looking at their drinks solemnly.
The dwarf sighed, pinching the top of his nose,
The orc had his head in his hands looking off into nothingness,
Finally the gnome chimed in, quietly, but with a resolute tone
"Okay, I'll say it. He's a much better companion then Roderick and we should do everything in our earthly powers not to mess this up."
The orc and dwarf both sighed in unanimous relief
The orc chimed in first with a hushed tone and feeling in his voice "Its like he knew what a whoreson Roderick was!" He said, sitting at attention once again " its like he knew and said to himself 'oh! These chaps look like they could use a new, better companion!' Then took it upon himself, through all the peril, to join us in disguise! All while throwing Roderick into god knows where!" He laughed. "The monster was OUR hero!"
The dwarf was next, wide eyed and hands extended to point out "Roderick" in the crowd. " look at that bloody rogue, he blends right in, they would never know they're holding possibly one of the most dangerous monsters in the land" he lowered his hands, then pointed out, " for all that, doesn't that also make him a better rogue?" They all agreed quietly.
The orc chimed in once more, tentatively, " look Roderick is a whoreson who would and almost did murder us for a small some of coin, twice." They all agreed muttering comments under their breath, " but were the you know...good guys... shouldn't we at least try to save him?"
The others were about to reluctantly agree when "Roderick" appeared before them once again
"My friends! this is as much your victory as mine! More so! Come join us, the mayor seems keen on raising our rewards! I thought it only fitting you be by my... Nay, I be by your sides during this!" He smiled warmly.
They looked at each other, shrugged and smiled
"No that's fine, we can be knaves for a night." The gnome said, stepping up from his seat. | Finally....free. The thousand years of waiting, watching in this cursed statue at an end. An elf, rigid with agony as his persona, his spirit, his life is leached away. Now the malevolent spirit got his first taste of air, of blood, of form.
"Er.. Mynir, you ok?" asked a gruff voice, a question which did not raise much concern with the rest of the party.
"Death!" hissed Mynir, or the thing that Mynir had become. He stared at the
party balefully out of reddened eyes, his hands raised, claw like over his head.
This response was not unexpected, and with a nod of acknowledgement, Drake the barbarian turned away and followed the rest of the party. He dragged a small chest of gold, which would hardly pay for this outing, but he seemed cheerful enough. The dead bodies of the unfortunate orcs he kicked out of his path were likely the reason for that.
The Mynir thing was still reeling, remembering his last moments before being encased, the worst psychopath the sorcerer could find in this land, his victims so numerous they were uncounted, uncountable. (and horribly unrecognisable.) A suitable trap for the unwary, a terrible harbinger of doom with the face of a once trusted companion.
He followed the party into the fresh air, and stood a little apart as they settled a camp, built a fire, cooked a meal. A dwarf began singing a cheerful song, as jokes and banter drifted out into the cool night.
Mynir felt the hilts of two beautiful elven daggers in his hands. In a movement too swift for any but an elf to see, they cleared the scabbards and whirled around his head. Blood and screams followed. A mist of red exploded from a neck, a bone cracked as a dextrous kick twisted a knee joint out of place. A heart was pierced by a single blow. In less than a few seconds it was all over. Five bodies lay on the ground, dead or dying.
The silence that had descended over the camp was broken by Drake. "Holy Mother, how the hell did you.." He trailed off, staring in amazement.
The Dwarf leapt to his feet and rushed to hug Mynir, who accepted the affection with a small show of discomfort. "A sneaky ambush for sure, well spotted my friend. I always said you were a hidden treasure!"
For the rest of the group, the transformation of a sneaky, cowardly elf into a saving hero caused a fair amount of quiet consternation. Generally it was seen as a "good thing", considering the alternative. The shaman had cast her bones, and no harm was predicted... Maybe he had just shrugged a curse, or escaped a bedazzlement.
Mynir contemplated his situation. His new elf brain was clear and concise. and more importantly, his hugely unbalanced mental chemistry was gone. The Sorcerer was vastly mistaken. These people were his family now. Woe betide any who tried to harm them. Could he make amends for his past? He could try. | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | "Guys, I think those holes might be for arrows or something. We had better check if this hallway is trapped!" warned Danny.
The party stopped, and Julie, an experienced rogue, did a check for traps. Sure enough, she found one, though curiously it was already disarmed.
Veronica explained, "It looks like someone has already blocked the mechanism with a rock. It should be safe to head down the passageway."
"Wait, before we go on, I need a quick break to use the loo." Danny looked abashed.
That brought some sighs from the group. "Couldn't you have done that a few minutes ago, before we entered the dungeon?" asked Veronica.
"Sorry everyone," replied Danny, "I drank too much water earlier." And off he went in search of some relief.
With Danny gone, the party had a moment to talk to themselves.
"He's really been such a better husband and father since....", Veronica trailed off.
"Yes, we've noticed lots of positive changes," replied Jim.
"He's making so much more time for the children. He's being so much more responsible in every way."
"You yourself seem happier these days", remarked Julie. "Have you decided to let on that you know?"
"No, I'm worried it...he... might decide to stop pretending. Our love-life has gotten incredible, and he is so much more into the role playing aspects I enjoy." For a moment her conflicting emotions filled her face. "He is my husband, even if he isn't the man I married anymore."
"We're here for you. We'll keep it quiet." Julie gave her hand a squeeze. "Oh, I think he's coming back."
Danny walked in, and rejoined the party. "Lets go kick some goblin butt!" He picked up the dice, and turned and look at his wife with a smile. "Ok DM, what do you think I need to roll to get a pizza delivered while we finish our game?" | Finally....free. The thousand years of waiting, watching in this cursed statue at an end. An elf, rigid with agony as his persona, his spirit, his life is leached away. Now the malevolent spirit got his first taste of air, of blood, of form.
"Er.. Mynir, you ok?" asked a gruff voice, a question which did not raise much concern with the rest of the party.
"Death!" hissed Mynir, or the thing that Mynir had become. He stared at the
party balefully out of reddened eyes, his hands raised, claw like over his head.
This response was not unexpected, and with a nod of acknowledgement, Drake the barbarian turned away and followed the rest of the party. He dragged a small chest of gold, which would hardly pay for this outing, but he seemed cheerful enough. The dead bodies of the unfortunate orcs he kicked out of his path were likely the reason for that.
The Mynir thing was still reeling, remembering his last moments before being encased, the worst psychopath the sorcerer could find in this land, his victims so numerous they were uncounted, uncountable. (and horribly unrecognisable.) A suitable trap for the unwary, a terrible harbinger of doom with the face of a once trusted companion.
He followed the party into the fresh air, and stood a little apart as they settled a camp, built a fire, cooked a meal. A dwarf began singing a cheerful song, as jokes and banter drifted out into the cool night.
Mynir felt the hilts of two beautiful elven daggers in his hands. In a movement too swift for any but an elf to see, they cleared the scabbards and whirled around his head. Blood and screams followed. A mist of red exploded from a neck, a bone cracked as a dextrous kick twisted a knee joint out of place. A heart was pierced by a single blow. In less than a few seconds it was all over. Five bodies lay on the ground, dead or dying.
The silence that had descended over the camp was broken by Drake. "Holy Mother, how the hell did you.." He trailed off, staring in amazement.
The Dwarf leapt to his feet and rushed to hug Mynir, who accepted the affection with a small show of discomfort. "A sneaky ambush for sure, well spotted my friend. I always said you were a hidden treasure!"
For the rest of the group, the transformation of a sneaky, cowardly elf into a saving hero caused a fair amount of quiet consternation. Generally it was seen as a "good thing", considering the alternative. The shaman had cast her bones, and no harm was predicted... Maybe he had just shrugged a curse, or escaped a bedazzlement.
Mynir contemplated his situation. His new elf brain was clear and concise. and more importantly, his hugely unbalanced mental chemistry was gone. The Sorcerer was vastly mistaken. These people were his family now. Woe betide any who tried to harm them. Could he make amends for his past? He could try. | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | "GREETINGS FELLOW ADVENTURING HUMANS!" Boomed the voice of Danny the Elf sat bolt upright from the sleeping cloth sack she had been in, causing Bob the Barbarian to grunt and curl up under his animal hide sleeping rug again.
"IT IS I, YOUR GOOD FRIEND DAN, I AM UNHARMED AFTER MY ENCOUNTER WITH THE DAEMON!" She continued smiling oddly, her mouth breaking into a wide grin with teeth and her eyebrows actually elevating.
"Dann...." Feldspar the half-elf warlock managed to stop himself from saying Danny, "You told us this before, remember?"
Danny the Elf blinked, everything was always so terribly confusing, having come from a dimension that didn't have time it had to learn about things happening and things that had happened, Makor the Cleric had helped with that, teaching the snow elf about how things happen and can't be changed but things that haven't happened yet can be altered.
"OH YES FRIEND!" Danny laughed as if it was a running joke, Sim the halfling thief/bard laughed a little as well in sympathy or perhaps enjoyment.
"WHERE ARE WE GOING TODAY? WILL THERE BE MORE EXCELLENT FERMENTED YEAST PRODUCTS TO CONSUME?"
Makor nodded slowly, "That's right Dan, more beer at the end of the adventure, now how did we get back the entrance avoiding the dragon, getting the treasure and nobody getting hurt?"
"OF COURSE FRIEND! THIS IS A THING THAT HAPPENED ALREADY AFTER ALL!" Danny confirmed with the group as each of them nodded in agreement pressing in to listen carefully to Danny.
"FIRSTLY, WE LEFT THE ROOM BY THE SOUTH ENTRANCE, SIM DISABLED THE PIT TRAP AFTER FALLING INTO IT AND DYING THE FIRST TIME HE TRIED." Danny started to explain.
Sim frowned a little looking towards the South entrance, he'd died; again, if 'Dan' hadn't told him about the pit trap or the acid or the undercooked chicken or ... he was incredibly glad that 'Dan' had changed so dramatically since that encounter with the demon.
"THE TREASURE IS MOSTLY CURSED AND FELDSPAR CHANGED INTO A SHEEP WHEN HE PICKED UP A STAFF THEN A STATUE AS HE TOUCHED THE CURSED DIAMOND AS LARGE AS HIS FIST AND THEN WAS KILLED AS HE PICKED UP A CROWN." Danny continued as Feldspar took careful notes, the warlock couldn't remember the last time he'd bothered to cast identification or detect item status.
Feldspar liked whatever was living inside Danny, even when the party wasn't using it as a cheap way to complete adventures the Elf was nicer, kinder and fun to listen to, with her soft voice always shouting it was hard not to giggle at her.
"THEN AS WE LEAVE THE REAL MAKOR ATTACKS THE FAKE ONE CURRENTLY TRAVELLING WITH US AND IS EASILY DEFEATED." Danny concluded smiling proudly.
Makor looked around the group as for a moment he was sure that his plan had been ruined, they must know, it was just said aloud.
Sim however was fiddling with his lock picks, clearly fully distracted, Feldspar was already in a meditative trance memorising spells.
Bob smiled widely at Makor and Danny before speaking in his native tongue, "What did she say then? Sounded like bad news for you, Feldspar and Sim..."
Makor nodded with a rush of relief as Bob wondered how many more times he could possibly pass that particular lie your face off check. | Finally....free. The thousand years of waiting, watching in this cursed statue at an end. An elf, rigid with agony as his persona, his spirit, his life is leached away. Now the malevolent spirit got his first taste of air, of blood, of form.
"Er.. Mynir, you ok?" asked a gruff voice, a question which did not raise much concern with the rest of the party.
"Death!" hissed Mynir, or the thing that Mynir had become. He stared at the
party balefully out of reddened eyes, his hands raised, claw like over his head.
This response was not unexpected, and with a nod of acknowledgement, Drake the barbarian turned away and followed the rest of the party. He dragged a small chest of gold, which would hardly pay for this outing, but he seemed cheerful enough. The dead bodies of the unfortunate orcs he kicked out of his path were likely the reason for that.
The Mynir thing was still reeling, remembering his last moments before being encased, the worst psychopath the sorcerer could find in this land, his victims so numerous they were uncounted, uncountable. (and horribly unrecognisable.) A suitable trap for the unwary, a terrible harbinger of doom with the face of a once trusted companion.
He followed the party into the fresh air, and stood a little apart as they settled a camp, built a fire, cooked a meal. A dwarf began singing a cheerful song, as jokes and banter drifted out into the cool night.
Mynir felt the hilts of two beautiful elven daggers in his hands. In a movement too swift for any but an elf to see, they cleared the scabbards and whirled around his head. Blood and screams followed. A mist of red exploded from a neck, a bone cracked as a dextrous kick twisted a knee joint out of place. A heart was pierced by a single blow. In less than a few seconds it was all over. Five bodies lay on the ground, dead or dying.
The silence that had descended over the camp was broken by Drake. "Holy Mother, how the hell did you.." He trailed off, staring in amazement.
The Dwarf leapt to his feet and rushed to hug Mynir, who accepted the affection with a small show of discomfort. "A sneaky ambush for sure, well spotted my friend. I always said you were a hidden treasure!"
For the rest of the group, the transformation of a sneaky, cowardly elf into a saving hero caused a fair amount of quiet consternation. Generally it was seen as a "good thing", considering the alternative. The shaman had cast her bones, and no harm was predicted... Maybe he had just shrugged a curse, or escaped a bedazzlement.
Mynir contemplated his situation. His new elf brain was clear and concise. and more importantly, his hugely unbalanced mental chemistry was gone. The Sorcerer was vastly mistaken. These people were his family now. Woe betide any who tried to harm them. Could he make amends for his past? He could try. | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | "GREETINGS FELLOW ADVENTURING HUMANS!" Boomed the voice of Danny the Elf sat bolt upright from the sleeping cloth sack she had been in, causing Bob the Barbarian to grunt and curl up under his animal hide sleeping rug again.
"IT IS I, YOUR GOOD FRIEND DAN, I AM UNHARMED AFTER MY ENCOUNTER WITH THE DAEMON!" She continued smiling oddly, her mouth breaking into a wide grin with teeth and her eyebrows actually elevating.
"Dann...." Feldspar the half-elf warlock managed to stop himself from saying Danny, "You told us this before, remember?"
Danny the Elf blinked, everything was always so terribly confusing, having come from a dimension that didn't have time it had to learn about things happening and things that had happened, Makor the Cleric had helped with that, teaching the snow elf about how things happen and can't be changed but things that haven't happened yet can be altered.
"OH YES FRIEND!" Danny laughed as if it was a running joke, Sim the halfling thief/bard laughed a little as well in sympathy or perhaps enjoyment.
"WHERE ARE WE GOING TODAY? WILL THERE BE MORE EXCELLENT FERMENTED YEAST PRODUCTS TO CONSUME?"
Makor nodded slowly, "That's right Dan, more beer at the end of the adventure, now how did we get back the entrance avoiding the dragon, getting the treasure and nobody getting hurt?"
"OF COURSE FRIEND! THIS IS A THING THAT HAPPENED ALREADY AFTER ALL!" Danny confirmed with the group as each of them nodded in agreement pressing in to listen carefully to Danny.
"FIRSTLY, WE LEFT THE ROOM BY THE SOUTH ENTRANCE, SIM DISABLED THE PIT TRAP AFTER FALLING INTO IT AND DYING THE FIRST TIME HE TRIED." Danny started to explain.
Sim frowned a little looking towards the South entrance, he'd died; again, if 'Dan' hadn't told him about the pit trap or the acid or the undercooked chicken or ... he was incredibly glad that 'Dan' had changed so dramatically since that encounter with the demon.
"THE TREASURE IS MOSTLY CURSED AND FELDSPAR CHANGED INTO A SHEEP WHEN HE PICKED UP A STAFF THEN A STATUE AS HE TOUCHED THE CURSED DIAMOND AS LARGE AS HIS FIST AND THEN WAS KILLED AS HE PICKED UP A CROWN." Danny continued as Feldspar took careful notes, the warlock couldn't remember the last time he'd bothered to cast identification or detect item status.
Feldspar liked whatever was living inside Danny, even when the party wasn't using it as a cheap way to complete adventures the Elf was nicer, kinder and fun to listen to, with her soft voice always shouting it was hard not to giggle at her.
"THEN AS WE LEAVE THE REAL MAKOR ATTACKS THE FAKE ONE CURRENTLY TRAVELLING WITH US AND IS EASILY DEFEATED." Danny concluded smiling proudly.
Makor looked around the group as for a moment he was sure that his plan had been ruined, they must know, it was just said aloud.
Sim however was fiddling with his lock picks, clearly fully distracted, Feldspar was already in a meditative trance memorising spells.
Bob smiled widely at Makor and Danny before speaking in his native tongue, "What did she say then? Sounded like bad news for you, Feldspar and Sim..."
Makor nodded with a rush of relief as Bob wondered how many more times he could possibly pass that particular lie your face off check. | Finally....free. The thousand years of waiting, watching in this cursed statue at an end. An elf, rigid with agony as his persona, his spirit, his life is leached away. Now the malevolent spirit got his first taste of air, of blood, of form.
"Er.. Mynir, you ok?" asked a gruff voice, a question which did not raise much concern with the rest of the party.
"Death!" hissed Mynir, or the thing that Mynir had become. He stared at the
party balefully out of reddened eyes, his hands raised, claw like over his head.
This response was not unexpected, and with a nod of acknowledgement, Drake the barbarian turned away and followed the rest of the party. He dragged a small chest of gold, which would hardly pay for this outing, but he seemed cheerful enough. The dead bodies of the unfortunate orcs he kicked out of his path were likely the reason for that.
The Mynir thing was still reeling, remembering his last moments before being encased, the worst psychopath the sorcerer could find in this land, his victims so numerous they were uncounted, uncountable. (and horribly unrecognisable.) A suitable trap for the unwary, a terrible harbinger of doom with the face of a once trusted companion.
He followed the party into the fresh air, and stood a little apart as they settled a camp, built a fire, cooked a meal. A dwarf began singing a cheerful song, as jokes and banter drifted out into the cool night.
Mynir felt the hilts of two beautiful elven daggers in his hands. In a movement too swift for any but an elf to see, they cleared the scabbards and whirled around his head. Blood and screams followed. A mist of red exploded from a neck, a bone cracked as a dextrous kick twisted a knee joint out of place. A heart was pierced by a single blow. In less than a few seconds it was all over. Five bodies lay on the ground, dead or dying.
The silence that had descended over the camp was broken by Drake. "Holy Mother, how the hell did you.." He trailed off, staring in amazement.
The Dwarf leapt to his feet and rushed to hug Mynir, who accepted the affection with a small show of discomfort. "A sneaky ambush for sure, well spotted my friend. I always said you were a hidden treasure!"
For the rest of the group, the transformation of a sneaky, cowardly elf into a saving hero caused a fair amount of quiet consternation. Generally it was seen as a "good thing", considering the alternative. The shaman had cast her bones, and no harm was predicted... Maybe he had just shrugged a curse, or escaped a bedazzlement.
Mynir contemplated his situation. His new elf brain was clear and concise. and more importantly, his hugely unbalanced mental chemistry was gone. The Sorcerer was vastly mistaken. These people were his family now. Woe betide any who tried to harm them. Could he make amends for his past? He could try. | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | Theldon – or at least the creature that was wearing his face – looked pale in the light of the campfire. As the wood crackled and burned, he chewed his lower lip, gathering his courage to speak.
“Guys … I … I have something to tell you,” he managed.
His three traveling companions looked at him. Vanariel snapped her spellbook shut and drew her staff. “What is it? An ambush? I told you guys I saw goblin-sign back there!”
“No, no! Not goblins!” Theldon said, holding his hands out. “It’s … it’s about me.”
Shiny Pete smirked. “What? You got the whore’s itch or something? Nothing to be ashamed of, buddy. Happened to us all once or twice.”
Dagmar glowered at the rogue from under bushy eyebrows. “Or mayhap a good number of times more than that.”
“No! It's not a disease either! It’s just …” Theldon took a deep breath. “Guys … I’m … I’m a doppelganger."
The three of them shared a long look, and then Vanariel and Shiny Pete burst out laughing. Dagmar’s glower deepened. “That’s no’ funny, lad,” he growled.
Vanariel and Shiny Pete stopped laughing. “Wait, wait,” the rogue said, “Dagmar, you didn’t *know?*”
Theldon looked shocked. “Wait, you guys *knew?*”
The elven woman tittered. “You’re not the shapeshifter you think you are. The real Theldon was an asshole.”
“Total dickwad,” Shiny Pete agreed. “In, like, every conceivable way.”
Dagmar leapt to his feet, drawing his axe. “You mean this is no’ a joke?” he roared, advancing on Theldon. “Die, fiend!”
As one, Vanariel and Shiny Pete placed themselves between the enraged dwarf and the doppleganger. “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Shiny Pete yelled. “This might not be the original Theldon, but he’s been with us for almost a year now. He was the guy who stood over you after you got paralyzed by a ghoul.”
“He took point when we fought that dragon,” Vanariel continued.
“Hell, he got in the face of evil sorcerer while you were busy chopping up his henchmen,” Shiny Pete added.
“Those henchmen represented a serious threat!” Dagmar retorted, “And it was no' like it was a full-grown dragon. Only a wee one!”
In unison, Valariel and Shiny Pete rolled their eyes. Dagmar glowered some more. He was good at it, and he liked to play to his strengths. At last the dwarf made a humphing noise and lowered his axe. Valariel sat down and opened her spellbook again. “Okay, that’s over right? We can get back to the adventuring?”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Pete said. Dagmar only grunted.
“Did you guys really know?” Theldon asked, still somewhat wary of the dwarf.
“Oh, yeah. I mean, it was kind of suspicious how he was dying of jungle rot one day and completely fine the next. But you’re really not much like the original Theldon at all. First of all, you’re actually useful in combat. And second of all, you’re a decent guy. I mean, I can have an ale with you and not worry that you’re going to stiff me on the check,” Pete said.
“Or stare at my tits while I’m trancing. Or grab my ass when I’m trying to brew potions,” Vanariel added. “And the ear jokes. Ugh, the original Theldon was such a creep. Why did we even keep him around?”
"Good question," Pete said. "I mean, I asked myself that a bunch of times after we got new Theldon. 'Why did we even keep that tool around in the first place?'"
“So you guys don’t even care that I’m a shapeshifter?”
“Not really, no,” Pete said. “I worked with lots of different people when I was in the Thieves’ Guild. Changelings weren’t any more likely to try killing me in my sleep than humans or half-elves. In my experience, everyone’s pretty human when you get down to it.”
“Hey! Speak for yourself, round-ears,” Vanariel said with half of a smile. “But nevertheless, I agree with the sentiment.”
“Oh,” Theldon said. He sat in own thoughts for a moment. “Thanks, guys. That means a lot to me.”
“Don’t mention it,” Pete said, and Vanariel nodded in agreement.
The evening passed in silence. Shiny Pete honed his daggers, and Vanariel memorized her spells. Dagmar and Theldon each sat in silence, alone with his thoughts.
At last the dwarf spoke. “Lad,” he asked the doppleganger, “have you ever tried maybe not being a shapeshifter?”
| Finally....free. The thousand years of waiting, watching in this cursed statue at an end. An elf, rigid with agony as his persona, his spirit, his life is leached away. Now the malevolent spirit got his first taste of air, of blood, of form.
"Er.. Mynir, you ok?" asked a gruff voice, a question which did not raise much concern with the rest of the party.
"Death!" hissed Mynir, or the thing that Mynir had become. He stared at the
party balefully out of reddened eyes, his hands raised, claw like over his head.
This response was not unexpected, and with a nod of acknowledgement, Drake the barbarian turned away and followed the rest of the party. He dragged a small chest of gold, which would hardly pay for this outing, but he seemed cheerful enough. The dead bodies of the unfortunate orcs he kicked out of his path were likely the reason for that.
The Mynir thing was still reeling, remembering his last moments before being encased, the worst psychopath the sorcerer could find in this land, his victims so numerous they were uncounted, uncountable. (and horribly unrecognisable.) A suitable trap for the unwary, a terrible harbinger of doom with the face of a once trusted companion.
He followed the party into the fresh air, and stood a little apart as they settled a camp, built a fire, cooked a meal. A dwarf began singing a cheerful song, as jokes and banter drifted out into the cool night.
Mynir felt the hilts of two beautiful elven daggers in his hands. In a movement too swift for any but an elf to see, they cleared the scabbards and whirled around his head. Blood and screams followed. A mist of red exploded from a neck, a bone cracked as a dextrous kick twisted a knee joint out of place. A heart was pierced by a single blow. In less than a few seconds it was all over. Five bodies lay on the ground, dead or dying.
The silence that had descended over the camp was broken by Drake. "Holy Mother, how the hell did you.." He trailed off, staring in amazement.
The Dwarf leapt to his feet and rushed to hug Mynir, who accepted the affection with a small show of discomfort. "A sneaky ambush for sure, well spotted my friend. I always said you were a hidden treasure!"
For the rest of the group, the transformation of a sneaky, cowardly elf into a saving hero caused a fair amount of quiet consternation. Generally it was seen as a "good thing", considering the alternative. The shaman had cast her bones, and no harm was predicted... Maybe he had just shrugged a curse, or escaped a bedazzlement.
Mynir contemplated his situation. His new elf brain was clear and concise. and more importantly, his hugely unbalanced mental chemistry was gone. The Sorcerer was vastly mistaken. These people were his family now. Woe betide any who tried to harm them. Could he make amends for his past? He could try. | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | Theldon – or at least the creature that was wearing his face – looked pale in the light of the campfire. As the wood crackled and burned, he chewed his lower lip, gathering his courage to speak.
“Guys … I … I have something to tell you,” he managed.
His three traveling companions looked at him. Vanariel snapped her spellbook shut and drew her staff. “What is it? An ambush? I told you guys I saw goblin-sign back there!”
“No, no! Not goblins!” Theldon said, holding his hands out. “It’s … it’s about me.”
Shiny Pete smirked. “What? You got the whore’s itch or something? Nothing to be ashamed of, buddy. Happened to us all once or twice.”
Dagmar glowered at the rogue from under bushy eyebrows. “Or mayhap a good number of times more than that.”
“No! It's not a disease either! It’s just …” Theldon took a deep breath. “Guys … I’m … I’m a doppelganger."
The three of them shared a long look, and then Vanariel and Shiny Pete burst out laughing. Dagmar’s glower deepened. “That’s no’ funny, lad,” he growled.
Vanariel and Shiny Pete stopped laughing. “Wait, wait,” the rogue said, “Dagmar, you didn’t *know?*”
Theldon looked shocked. “Wait, you guys *knew?*”
The elven woman tittered. “You’re not the shapeshifter you think you are. The real Theldon was an asshole.”
“Total dickwad,” Shiny Pete agreed. “In, like, every conceivable way.”
Dagmar leapt to his feet, drawing his axe. “You mean this is no’ a joke?” he roared, advancing on Theldon. “Die, fiend!”
As one, Vanariel and Shiny Pete placed themselves between the enraged dwarf and the doppleganger. “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Shiny Pete yelled. “This might not be the original Theldon, but he’s been with us for almost a year now. He was the guy who stood over you after you got paralyzed by a ghoul.”
“He took point when we fought that dragon,” Vanariel continued.
“Hell, he got in the face of evil sorcerer while you were busy chopping up his henchmen,” Shiny Pete added.
“Those henchmen represented a serious threat!” Dagmar retorted, “And it was no' like it was a full-grown dragon. Only a wee one!”
In unison, Valariel and Shiny Pete rolled their eyes. Dagmar glowered some more. He was good at it, and he liked to play to his strengths. At last the dwarf made a humphing noise and lowered his axe. Valariel sat down and opened her spellbook again. “Okay, that’s over right? We can get back to the adventuring?”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Pete said. Dagmar only grunted.
“Did you guys really know?” Theldon asked, still somewhat wary of the dwarf.
“Oh, yeah. I mean, it was kind of suspicious how he was dying of jungle rot one day and completely fine the next. But you’re really not much like the original Theldon at all. First of all, you’re actually useful in combat. And second of all, you’re a decent guy. I mean, I can have an ale with you and not worry that you’re going to stiff me on the check,” Pete said.
“Or stare at my tits while I’m trancing. Or grab my ass when I’m trying to brew potions,” Vanariel added. “And the ear jokes. Ugh, the original Theldon was such a creep. Why did we even keep him around?”
"Good question," Pete said. "I mean, I asked myself that a bunch of times after we got new Theldon. 'Why did we even keep that tool around in the first place?'"
“So you guys don’t even care that I’m a shapeshifter?”
“Not really, no,” Pete said. “I worked with lots of different people when I was in the Thieves’ Guild. Changelings weren’t any more likely to try killing me in my sleep than humans or half-elves. In my experience, everyone’s pretty human when you get down to it.”
“Hey! Speak for yourself, round-ears,” Vanariel said with half of a smile. “But nevertheless, I agree with the sentiment.”
“Oh,” Theldon said. He sat in own thoughts for a moment. “Thanks, guys. That means a lot to me.”
“Don’t mention it,” Pete said, and Vanariel nodded in agreement.
The evening passed in silence. Shiny Pete honed his daggers, and Vanariel memorized her spells. Dagmar and Theldon each sat in silence, alone with his thoughts.
At last the dwarf spoke. “Lad,” he asked the doppleganger, “have you ever tried maybe not being a shapeshifter?”
| Finally....free. The thousand years of waiting, watching in this cursed statue at an end. An elf, rigid with agony as his persona, his spirit, his life is leached away. Now the malevolent spirit got his first taste of air, of blood, of form.
"Er.. Mynir, you ok?" asked a gruff voice, a question which did not raise much concern with the rest of the party.
"Death!" hissed Mynir, or the thing that Mynir had become. He stared at the
party balefully out of reddened eyes, his hands raised, claw like over his head.
This response was not unexpected, and with a nod of acknowledgement, Drake the barbarian turned away and followed the rest of the party. He dragged a small chest of gold, which would hardly pay for this outing, but he seemed cheerful enough. The dead bodies of the unfortunate orcs he kicked out of his path were likely the reason for that.
The Mynir thing was still reeling, remembering his last moments before being encased, the worst psychopath the sorcerer could find in this land, his victims so numerous they were uncounted, uncountable. (and horribly unrecognisable.) A suitable trap for the unwary, a terrible harbinger of doom with the face of a once trusted companion.
He followed the party into the fresh air, and stood a little apart as they settled a camp, built a fire, cooked a meal. A dwarf began singing a cheerful song, as jokes and banter drifted out into the cool night.
Mynir felt the hilts of two beautiful elven daggers in his hands. In a movement too swift for any but an elf to see, they cleared the scabbards and whirled around his head. Blood and screams followed. A mist of red exploded from a neck, a bone cracked as a dextrous kick twisted a knee joint out of place. A heart was pierced by a single blow. In less than a few seconds it was all over. Five bodies lay on the ground, dead or dying.
The silence that had descended over the camp was broken by Drake. "Holy Mother, how the hell did you.." He trailed off, staring in amazement.
The Dwarf leapt to his feet and rushed to hug Mynir, who accepted the affection with a small show of discomfort. "A sneaky ambush for sure, well spotted my friend. I always said you were a hidden treasure!"
For the rest of the group, the transformation of a sneaky, cowardly elf into a saving hero caused a fair amount of quiet consternation. Generally it was seen as a "good thing", considering the alternative. The shaman had cast her bones, and no harm was predicted... Maybe he had just shrugged a curse, or escaped a bedazzlement.
Mynir contemplated his situation. His new elf brain was clear and concise. and more importantly, his hugely unbalanced mental chemistry was gone. The Sorcerer was vastly mistaken. These people were his family now. Woe betide any who tried to harm them. Could he make amends for his past? He could try. | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | Approaching the city gate, the adventurers stiffen as the guards halt their way. Of course, Mr. Nobility has to be the one to step forward and speak for the group. Marian lightly touches her bow, prepared to ready an arrow if her arrogant companion gets them into trouble again.
"Greetings, my good men. My name is Hector of the house Rellon. Do you happen to have any directions for a band of weary travelers? We seek no conflict, only a comfortable place to rest for the night."
Sora and Fiera share a look. The last time they entered a new city, he tried to march right past the guards, drawing his sword when they stopped him. They had to find accommodations in a dingy little inn outside the city gates, where the other patrons all gave the distinct impression of being criminals.
Now, though, one guard obligingly gave them directions, and Hector... Hector actually thanked him, and clapped his back like they were old friends. The guard laughed cheerfully and sent them on their way. This was wrong. Hector didn't have friends. He didn't make friends. The only reason his companions hadn't booted him was his skill in combat, which had just barely saved them from more problems than his personality had gotten them into.
That night, as Hector remained in the common room to buy another round for the crowd... an unusual act of generosity... the others gathered in the private room they'd booked.
"Do you remember earlier today, when he left to investigate that noise in the trees?" Asked Sora.
Marian nodded. "But there was nothing there."
"I know," said Sora, "But what if he liked?"
"You think he could be under someone's control?" Fiera chimed in. "I could dispel any magic that might be around him."
Sora shook his head. "I don't think it's control. He hasn't hurt us or been irrational. He's just... *different*. I think he's been replaced."
"That's pretty far-fetched." Marian's voice was skeptical.
"It's happened before," said Sora. "Not all shapeshifters are evil. Some of them just want a safe group to live among. A family. Like what we are to Hector, even though he's an asshole who doesn't deserve us."
Fiera narrowed her eyes. "How do you know so much about shapeshifters?"
Sora sighed. It was time to come clean. "Because I'm one of them. You guys didn't know the real Sora. He tried to raid my nest. Would have gotten a good part of my family killed, as well as his whole group, if I hadn't taken his place. Foolhardy bastard. His friends figured me out, though. I barely escaped, and by then I was used to this form."
"No." Fiera shook her head. "You can't just replace people. The real Hector..."
"The real Hector didn't give a toss about any of us," said Marian. "Do you really think he's worth our compassion? When was the last time he extended any to you?"
Fiera was quiet for a minute, remembering the time she'd broken a leg fighting a troll. And Hector elected to carry the troll's treasure chest out of the dungeon, leaving her to hobble after him using a giant club as a makeshift crutch. "I guess if this shapeshifter is anything like you, Sora, it's probably an improvement."
"I know I was," commented Marian. "My new parents must have known something was different, but the family got along so much better with me in her place that they never questioned it."
Fiera stood from her chair, backing toward the door. "Are you shapeshifters going to replace everybody?"
"No," said Sora and Marian simultaneously.
Sora continued. "You're a good person, Fiera. We only take the place of assholes. People whose absence would actually improve things. For everybody, not just those of us who can change our form. Trust me, Fiera." He smiled, the friendly expression that Fiera had come to find reassuring after the years they'd spent together. "You have nothing to worry about." | Finally....free. The thousand years of waiting, watching in this cursed statue at an end. An elf, rigid with agony as his persona, his spirit, his life is leached away. Now the malevolent spirit got his first taste of air, of blood, of form.
"Er.. Mynir, you ok?" asked a gruff voice, a question which did not raise much concern with the rest of the party.
"Death!" hissed Mynir, or the thing that Mynir had become. He stared at the
party balefully out of reddened eyes, his hands raised, claw like over his head.
This response was not unexpected, and with a nod of acknowledgement, Drake the barbarian turned away and followed the rest of the party. He dragged a small chest of gold, which would hardly pay for this outing, but he seemed cheerful enough. The dead bodies of the unfortunate orcs he kicked out of his path were likely the reason for that.
The Mynir thing was still reeling, remembering his last moments before being encased, the worst psychopath the sorcerer could find in this land, his victims so numerous they were uncounted, uncountable. (and horribly unrecognisable.) A suitable trap for the unwary, a terrible harbinger of doom with the face of a once trusted companion.
He followed the party into the fresh air, and stood a little apart as they settled a camp, built a fire, cooked a meal. A dwarf began singing a cheerful song, as jokes and banter drifted out into the cool night.
Mynir felt the hilts of two beautiful elven daggers in his hands. In a movement too swift for any but an elf to see, they cleared the scabbards and whirled around his head. Blood and screams followed. A mist of red exploded from a neck, a bone cracked as a dextrous kick twisted a knee joint out of place. A heart was pierced by a single blow. In less than a few seconds it was all over. Five bodies lay on the ground, dead or dying.
The silence that had descended over the camp was broken by Drake. "Holy Mother, how the hell did you.." He trailed off, staring in amazement.
The Dwarf leapt to his feet and rushed to hug Mynir, who accepted the affection with a small show of discomfort. "A sneaky ambush for sure, well spotted my friend. I always said you were a hidden treasure!"
For the rest of the group, the transformation of a sneaky, cowardly elf into a saving hero caused a fair amount of quiet consternation. Generally it was seen as a "good thing", considering the alternative. The shaman had cast her bones, and no harm was predicted... Maybe he had just shrugged a curse, or escaped a bedazzlement.
Mynir contemplated his situation. His new elf brain was clear and concise. and more importantly, his hugely unbalanced mental chemistry was gone. The Sorcerer was vastly mistaken. These people were his family now. Woe betide any who tried to harm them. Could he make amends for his past? He could try. | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | Approaching the city gate, the adventurers stiffen as the guards halt their way. Of course, Mr. Nobility has to be the one to step forward and speak for the group. Marian lightly touches her bow, prepared to ready an arrow if her arrogant companion gets them into trouble again.
"Greetings, my good men. My name is Hector of the house Rellon. Do you happen to have any directions for a band of weary travelers? We seek no conflict, only a comfortable place to rest for the night."
Sora and Fiera share a look. The last time they entered a new city, he tried to march right past the guards, drawing his sword when they stopped him. They had to find accommodations in a dingy little inn outside the city gates, where the other patrons all gave the distinct impression of being criminals.
Now, though, one guard obligingly gave them directions, and Hector... Hector actually thanked him, and clapped his back like they were old friends. The guard laughed cheerfully and sent them on their way. This was wrong. Hector didn't have friends. He didn't make friends. The only reason his companions hadn't booted him was his skill in combat, which had just barely saved them from more problems than his personality had gotten them into.
That night, as Hector remained in the common room to buy another round for the crowd... an unusual act of generosity... the others gathered in the private room they'd booked.
"Do you remember earlier today, when he left to investigate that noise in the trees?" Asked Sora.
Marian nodded. "But there was nothing there."
"I know," said Sora, "But what if he lied?"
"You think he could be under someone's control?" Fiera chimed in. "I could dispel any magic that might be around him."
Sora shook his head. "I don't think it's control. He hasn't hurt us or been irrational. He's just... *different*. I think he's been replaced."
"That's pretty far-fetched." Marian's voice was skeptical.
"It's happened before," said Sora. "Not all shapeshifters are evil. Some of them just want a safe group to live among. A family. Like what we are to Hector, even though he's an asshole who doesn't deserve us."
Fiera narrowed her eyes. "How do you know so much about shapeshifters?"
Sora sighed. It was time to come clean. "Because I'm one of them. You guys didn't know the real Sora. He tried to raid my nest. Would have gotten a good part of my family killed, as well as his whole group, if I hadn't taken his place. Foolhardy bastard. His friends figured me out, though. I barely escaped, and by then I was used to this form."
"No." Fiera shook her head. "You can't just replace people. The real Hector..."
"The real Hector didn't give a toss about any of us," said Marian. "Do you really think he's worth our compassion? When was the last time he extended any to you?"
Fiera was quiet for a minute, remembering the time she'd broken a leg fighting a troll. And Hector elected to carry the troll's treasure chest out of the dungeon, leaving her to hobble after him using a giant club as a makeshift crutch. "I guess if this shapeshifter is anything like you, Sora, it's probably an improvement."
"I know I was," commented Marian. "My new parents must have known something was different, but the family got along so much better with me in her place that they never questioned it."
Fiera stood from her chair, backing toward the door. "Are you shapeshifters going to replace everybody?"
"No," said Sora and Marian simultaneously.
Sora continued. "You're a good person, Fiera. We only take the place of assholes. People whose absence would actually improve things. For everybody, not just those of us who can change our form. Trust me, Fiera." He smiled, the friendly expression that Fiera had come to find reassuring after the years they'd spent together. "You have nothing to worry about."
Edit: typo | Finally....free. The thousand years of waiting, watching in this cursed statue at an end. An elf, rigid with agony as his persona, his spirit, his life is leached away. Now the malevolent spirit got his first taste of air, of blood, of form.
"Er.. Mynir, you ok?" asked a gruff voice, a question which did not raise much concern with the rest of the party.
"Death!" hissed Mynir, or the thing that Mynir had become. He stared at the
party balefully out of reddened eyes, his hands raised, claw like over his head.
This response was not unexpected, and with a nod of acknowledgement, Drake the barbarian turned away and followed the rest of the party. He dragged a small chest of gold, which would hardly pay for this outing, but he seemed cheerful enough. The dead bodies of the unfortunate orcs he kicked out of his path were likely the reason for that.
The Mynir thing was still reeling, remembering his last moments before being encased, the worst psychopath the sorcerer could find in this land, his victims so numerous they were uncounted, uncountable. (and horribly unrecognisable.) A suitable trap for the unwary, a terrible harbinger of doom with the face of a once trusted companion.
He followed the party into the fresh air, and stood a little apart as they settled a camp, built a fire, cooked a meal. A dwarf began singing a cheerful song, as jokes and banter drifted out into the cool night.
Mynir felt the hilts of two beautiful elven daggers in his hands. In a movement too swift for any but an elf to see, they cleared the scabbards and whirled around his head. Blood and screams followed. A mist of red exploded from a neck, a bone cracked as a dextrous kick twisted a knee joint out of place. A heart was pierced by a single blow. In less than a few seconds it was all over. Five bodies lay on the ground, dead or dying.
The silence that had descended over the camp was broken by Drake. "Holy Mother, how the hell did you.." He trailed off, staring in amazement.
The Dwarf leapt to his feet and rushed to hug Mynir, who accepted the affection with a small show of discomfort. "A sneaky ambush for sure, well spotted my friend. I always said you were a hidden treasure!"
For the rest of the group, the transformation of a sneaky, cowardly elf into a saving hero caused a fair amount of quiet consternation. Generally it was seen as a "good thing", considering the alternative. The shaman had cast her bones, and no harm was predicted... Maybe he had just shrugged a curse, or escaped a bedazzlement.
Mynir contemplated his situation. His new elf brain was clear and concise. and more importantly, his hugely unbalanced mental chemistry was gone. The Sorcerer was vastly mistaken. These people were his family now. Woe betide any who tried to harm them. Could he make amends for his past? He could try. | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | The miles between them had come and gone, leaving scars and wounds and memories and laughs. The horizon that day was clear, and the world fell into green and yellow, and far away were the mountains, and everything was cloaked in a dream. They had come far. The first peaks of Lankar shimmered in an ephemeral haze.
"We've made it," Keldar said.
"Not yet."
Annastatia was worn, cut and bruised. Her eyes had dimmed some, but even the terrors of the Void had receded for the moment. She was in the present then, looking ahead, same as them all.
None had seen the mountain before. Alton had not believed in it. Haldar had said they would die before they ever crossed the river.
Now he stared with timeless eyes, eyes which had seen things from the Darkness. Eyes which had seen the birth of his kin from the still mirror waters of the Endless Caves. Those eyes had seen more than Haldar could ever have imagined.
"I guess it does exist," Alton said.
He clapped Haldar on the back. An uneasy feeling overcame him with the touch.
*It feels like him,* he thought.
And his thought travelled in the wind of the Void, that invisible world which held all the unknown things, the things that caused madness.
"Yes," Annastatia said.
She looked at Haldar.
"What?" said Keldar.
She shook her head.
They were weary and made camp on the hill. For the days past they had slept during the day, marched in the night. Their bodies were worn and tired, a piece of them all left behind in the Grey River.
*The price was worth it,* Keldar thought.
He was an older man, a knight in youth, and now his world had gone and he was alone but for adventure.
*Is it?*
He could not answer himself and the question lingered, unanswered by even Annastatia. They were quiet there on the hill. Midday came with a scarce lunch and perfunctory talk.
"I've never been so far," said Alton.
They agreed. Home had sunk away like the dying sun, and this endless night of the unknown still had miles yet to go.
"We're alive though," Keldar said.
"Yes," Annastatia said.
They looked at Haldar. Behind those eyes were the midnight of malice. But that malice reflected the sun, and then it was blue and immediate and true.
"I made it," Haldar said. "Barely by the skin of my leather, but I made it."
In the Grey River there were ancient cliffs, hills and holes. There amidst that pocked earth lived the unknown things, the things which embraced the Darkness.
In that place Haldar had fallen into the murky waters of the Grey River and its currents had taken him.
His screams had pierced the Void then, echoing even on the hill they now camped on. Annastatia winced and she saw the time as it floated past in the forever winds of that realm.
"Help!" Haldar cried.
Her hand held her staff. Every inch of her was prepared to hold it for him to grab on to. She saw it happening, feeling his weight and the rescue. And yet she hesitated.
"Help!"
She had remembered the times before. His hand caressing hers, teasing some unwanted strength, threatening in the vaguest of ways. And even then his thoughts were certain of his foul desire.
And so the river had taken him and they all had watched. They had let it happen as the waters surrounded him in an opaque cover, the burial of some unwanted pest, and they feigned the mourning as all good friends should do.
Then they were three.
But he had come back. The first trees were tall and skinny and gave little shade. Their slanting shadows were bars as they passed, looking like prisoners in a dream world, and then from that shifting prison, Haldar had come, wet and worn. The Grey River had taken much from him, he said, and he was different, completely different.
"I left more of my soul there than you," he said.
They looked at him and knew what he was, or what he wasn't. That night they discussed it in secret, and decided they would bide time before doing what must be done.
Three days had passed since then, but that time still had not come.
Sleep overcame them and they rested awhile. The falling sun awoke them to a red and orange sky and their shadows spilled past the hill.
"Statia," Alton said.
He was stretching.
"Yes?"
"I've had a bad dream. Worse than any of the others before."
"Was it of your past? The stealing in your mother's house?"
"No. No it was..."
She saw his face. She touched his head and the after images of the fading dream kindled within her.
Haldar stared beneath a blackened sky, alone and afraid. All around a great water rushed him, surrounding him with its endless sound.
The dream faded and she recoiled.
"I... I have no remedy," she said.
She looked at Haldar. The thing which pretended to be him looked at her and smiled. Though shifters like him were not connected as strongly to the Void, she could feel his thoughts in the air, like some distant food that has long been eaten.
*He means me no malice. Not like his...*
Victim. But she could not say the word.
Keldar walked to Haldar and put his hand on his shoulder.
"How is your wound?"
"Better now," Haldar said.
*He feels the same*, Keldar thought. *He really does.*
Then they packed their things and prepared for another night of walking. Lankar glittered in the night like some crystal, and yet soft as home's bed sheets on a cold night.
"What's there again?" Haldar asked.
He looked at them to see if any suspected. He thought they did. He thought he should kill them, but living in the black had not tainted his heart.
*Never have I seen such beauty as her.*
And in the moonlight Annastatia was some Queen, the kind of which no longer walks this world. Some distant being, ghost-like and tender, and yet strong and hardy with eyes opened into the real world.
*But she is Keldar's.*
And he felt sad. He felt the light on him and looked up.
*I should kill them and have her to myself.*
But she would die first before such things could happen. She would kill him then surely. They already considered the deed. He closed his eyes. The light painted him with a warmth the others could not feel.
*They have not lived in the dark,* he thought. *They are human. Weak and ignorant of the Dark, for they know not of such things.*
"Lankar," Alton said. "The mountain of Dreams. There, as legend goes, is the Spring of Dreaming. One sip of its water will change you. It will make whatever is in your heart come true."
"It can change the world physically?"
"No," said Annastatia. "But it will change *you*. It will change the spirit so that what you hold dearest will come true in a way of its own. It is not a place of wishes."
"It is like the Grey River then?" Haldar asked.
"Yes, in a sense. But it does not take. It gives and cleanses."
Then they were quiet. In their hearts they were uneasy. Haldar's death weighed immensely on them.
*The Spring will clean me,* Keldar thought.
Annastatia held him. Her face was pretty in the white light and he looked at her and loved her anew once more. He put his arm around her.
*I am an evil man,* he thought.
She looked at him with those sad eyes of hers.
*If that be true, then so are we all my love.*
He squeezed her hand.
*What hope is there then? This guilt weighs too heavy on me.*
*The Spring, as you've thought. The Spring is our only hope. Haldar was a fool. The River took him of its own choosing. His heart was black, blacker than this imposter.*
"I like you," Alton said to Haldar. "I don't know if you understand, but I'll be truthful. I like you."
And Haldar, the thing, understood as much. It too had thoughts that raged in an incomprehensible storm.
"I like you too," he said. "All of you."
"Then may the Spring save us," Keldar said.
And they marched in silence as the night slowly passed.
-
*Hi there! If you liked this story, please consider my subreddit r/PanMan. It has all my WP stories as well as some original ones. I'm slowly working on it and getting it to look nicer, so I promise it will look better soon. Thank you!* | Finally....free. The thousand years of waiting, watching in this cursed statue at an end. An elf, rigid with agony as his persona, his spirit, his life is leached away. Now the malevolent spirit got his first taste of air, of blood, of form.
"Er.. Mynir, you ok?" asked a gruff voice, a question which did not raise much concern with the rest of the party.
"Death!" hissed Mynir, or the thing that Mynir had become. He stared at the
party balefully out of reddened eyes, his hands raised, claw like over his head.
This response was not unexpected, and with a nod of acknowledgement, Drake the barbarian turned away and followed the rest of the party. He dragged a small chest of gold, which would hardly pay for this outing, but he seemed cheerful enough. The dead bodies of the unfortunate orcs he kicked out of his path were likely the reason for that.
The Mynir thing was still reeling, remembering his last moments before being encased, the worst psychopath the sorcerer could find in this land, his victims so numerous they were uncounted, uncountable. (and horribly unrecognisable.) A suitable trap for the unwary, a terrible harbinger of doom with the face of a once trusted companion.
He followed the party into the fresh air, and stood a little apart as they settled a camp, built a fire, cooked a meal. A dwarf began singing a cheerful song, as jokes and banter drifted out into the cool night.
Mynir felt the hilts of two beautiful elven daggers in his hands. In a movement too swift for any but an elf to see, they cleared the scabbards and whirled around his head. Blood and screams followed. A mist of red exploded from a neck, a bone cracked as a dextrous kick twisted a knee joint out of place. A heart was pierced by a single blow. In less than a few seconds it was all over. Five bodies lay on the ground, dead or dying.
The silence that had descended over the camp was broken by Drake. "Holy Mother, how the hell did you.." He trailed off, staring in amazement.
The Dwarf leapt to his feet and rushed to hug Mynir, who accepted the affection with a small show of discomfort. "A sneaky ambush for sure, well spotted my friend. I always said you were a hidden treasure!"
For the rest of the group, the transformation of a sneaky, cowardly elf into a saving hero caused a fair amount of quiet consternation. Generally it was seen as a "good thing", considering the alternative. The shaman had cast her bones, and no harm was predicted... Maybe he had just shrugged a curse, or escaped a bedazzlement.
Mynir contemplated his situation. His new elf brain was clear and concise. and more importantly, his hugely unbalanced mental chemistry was gone. The Sorcerer was vastly mistaken. These people were his family now. Woe betide any who tried to harm them. Could he make amends for his past? He could try. | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | The miles between them had come and gone, leaving scars and wounds and memories and laughs. The horizon that day was clear, and the world fell into green and yellow, and far away were the mountains, and everything was cloaked in a dream. They had come far. The first peaks of Lankar shimmered in an ephemeral haze.
"We've made it," Keldar said.
"Not yet."
Annastatia was worn, cut and bruised. Her eyes had dimmed some, but even the terrors of the Void had receded for the moment. She was in the present then, looking ahead, same as them all.
None had seen the mountain before. Alton had not believed in it. Haldar had said they would die before they ever crossed the river.
Now he stared with timeless eyes, eyes which had seen things from the Darkness. Eyes which had seen the birth of his kin from the still mirror waters of the Endless Caves. Those eyes had seen more than Haldar could ever have imagined.
"I guess it does exist," Alton said.
He clapped Haldar on the back. An uneasy feeling overcame him with the touch.
*It feels like him,* he thought.
And his thought travelled in the wind of the Void, that invisible world which held all the unknown things, the things that caused madness.
"Yes," Annastatia said.
She looked at Haldar.
"What?" said Keldar.
She shook her head.
They were weary and made camp on the hill. For the days past they had slept during the day, marched in the night. Their bodies were worn and tired, a piece of them all left behind in the Grey River.
*The price was worth it,* Keldar thought.
He was an older man, a knight in youth, and now his world had gone and he was alone but for adventure.
*Is it?*
He could not answer himself and the question lingered, unanswered by even Annastatia. They were quiet there on the hill. Midday came with a scarce lunch and perfunctory talk.
"I've never been so far," said Alton.
They agreed. Home had sunk away like the dying sun, and this endless night of the unknown still had miles yet to go.
"We're alive though," Keldar said.
"Yes," Annastatia said.
They looked at Haldar. Behind those eyes were the midnight of malice. But that malice reflected the sun, and then it was blue and immediate and true.
"I made it," Haldar said. "Barely by the skin of my leather, but I made it."
In the Grey River there were ancient cliffs, hills and holes. There amidst that pocked earth lived the unknown things, the things which embraced the Darkness.
In that place Haldar had fallen into the murky waters of the Grey River and its currents had taken him.
His screams had pierced the Void then, echoing even on the hill they now camped on. Annastatia winced and she saw the time as it floated past in the forever winds of that realm.
"Help!" Haldar cried.
Her hand held her staff. Every inch of her was prepared to hold it for him to grab on to. She saw it happening, feeling his weight and the rescue. And yet she hesitated.
"Help!"
She had remembered the times before. His hand caressing hers, teasing some unwanted strength, threatening in the vaguest of ways. And even then his thoughts were certain of his foul desire.
And so the river had taken him and they all had watched. They had let it happen as the waters surrounded him in an opaque cover, the burial of some unwanted pest, and they feigned the mourning as all good friends should do.
Then they were three.
But he had come back. The first trees were tall and skinny and gave little shade. Their slanting shadows were bars as they passed, looking like prisoners in a dream world, and then from that shifting prison, Haldar had come, wet and worn. The Grey River had taken much from him, he said, and he was different, completely different.
"I left more of my soul there than you," he said.
They looked at him and knew what he was, or what he wasn't. That night they discussed it in secret, and decided they would bide time before doing what must be done.
Three days had passed since then, but that time still had not come.
Sleep overcame them and they rested awhile. The falling sun awoke them to a red and orange sky and their shadows spilled past the hill.
"Statia," Alton said.
He was stretching.
"Yes?"
"I've had a bad dream. Worse than any of the others before."
"Was it of your past? The stealing in your mother's house?"
"No. No it was..."
She saw his face. She touched his head and the after images of the fading dream kindled within her.
Haldar stared beneath a blackened sky, alone and afraid. All around a great water rushed him, surrounding him with its endless sound.
The dream faded and she recoiled.
"I... I have no remedy," she said.
She looked at Haldar. The thing which pretended to be him looked at her and smiled. Though shifters like him were not connected as strongly to the Void, she could feel his thoughts in the air, like some distant food that has long been eaten.
*He means me no malice. Not like his...*
Victim. But she could not say the word.
Keldar walked to Haldar and put his hand on his shoulder.
"How is your wound?"
"Better now," Haldar said.
*He feels the same*, Keldar thought. *He really does.*
Then they packed their things and prepared for another night of walking. Lankar glittered in the night like some crystal, and yet soft as home's bed sheets on a cold night.
"What's there again?" Haldar asked.
He looked at them to see if any suspected. He thought they did. He thought he should kill them, but living in the black had not tainted his heart.
*Never have I seen such beauty as her.*
And in the moonlight Annastatia was some Queen, the kind of which no longer walks this world. Some distant being, ghost-like and tender, and yet strong and hardy with eyes opened into the real world.
*But she is Keldar's.*
And he felt sad. He felt the light on him and looked up.
*I should kill them and have her to myself.*
But she would die first before such things could happen. She would kill him then surely. They already considered the deed. He closed his eyes. The light painted him with a warmth the others could not feel.
*They have not lived in the dark,* he thought. *They are human. Weak and ignorant of the Dark, for they know not of such things.*
"Lankar," Alton said. "The mountain of Dreams. There, as legend goes, is the Spring of Dreaming. One sip of its water will change you. It will make whatever is in your heart come true."
"It can change the world physically?"
"No," said Annastatia. "But it will change *you*. It will change the spirit so that what you hold dearest will come true in a way of its own. It is not a place of wishes."
"It is like the Grey River then?" Haldar asked.
"Yes, in a sense. But it does not take. It gives and cleanses."
Then they were quiet. In their hearts they were uneasy. Haldar's death weighed immensely on them.
*The Spring will clean me,* Keldar thought.
Annastatia held him. Her face was pretty in the white light and he looked at her and loved her anew once more. He put his arm around her.
*I am an evil man,* he thought.
She looked at him with those sad eyes of hers.
*If that be true, then so are we all my love.*
He squeezed her hand.
*What hope is there then? This guilt weighs too heavy on me.*
*The Spring, as you've thought. The Spring is our only hope. Haldar was a fool. The River took him of its own choosing. His heart was black, blacker than this imposter.*
"I like you," Alton said to Haldar. "I don't know if you understand, but I'll be truthful. I like you."
And Haldar, the thing, understood as much. It too had thoughts that raged in an incomprehensible storm.
"I like you too," he said. "All of you."
"Then may the Spring save us," Keldar said.
And they marched in silence as the night slowly passed.
-
*Hi there! If you liked this story, please consider my subreddit r/PanMan. It has all my WP stories as well as some original ones. I'm slowly working on it and getting it to look nicer, so I promise it will look better soon. Thank you!* | Finally....free. The thousand years of waiting, watching in this cursed statue at an end. An elf, rigid with agony as his persona, his spirit, his life is leached away. Now the malevolent spirit got his first taste of air, of blood, of form.
"Er.. Mynir, you ok?" asked a gruff voice, a question which did not raise much concern with the rest of the party.
"Death!" hissed Mynir, or the thing that Mynir had become. He stared at the
party balefully out of reddened eyes, his hands raised, claw like over his head.
This response was not unexpected, and with a nod of acknowledgement, Drake the barbarian turned away and followed the rest of the party. He dragged a small chest of gold, which would hardly pay for this outing, but he seemed cheerful enough. The dead bodies of the unfortunate orcs he kicked out of his path were likely the reason for that.
The Mynir thing was still reeling, remembering his last moments before being encased, the worst psychopath the sorcerer could find in this land, his victims so numerous they were uncounted, uncountable. (and horribly unrecognisable.) A suitable trap for the unwary, a terrible harbinger of doom with the face of a once trusted companion.
He followed the party into the fresh air, and stood a little apart as they settled a camp, built a fire, cooked a meal. A dwarf began singing a cheerful song, as jokes and banter drifted out into the cool night.
Mynir felt the hilts of two beautiful elven daggers in his hands. In a movement too swift for any but an elf to see, they cleared the scabbards and whirled around his head. Blood and screams followed. A mist of red exploded from a neck, a bone cracked as a dextrous kick twisted a knee joint out of place. A heart was pierced by a single blow. In less than a few seconds it was all over. Five bodies lay on the ground, dead or dying.
The silence that had descended over the camp was broken by Drake. "Holy Mother, how the hell did you.." He trailed off, staring in amazement.
The Dwarf leapt to his feet and rushed to hug Mynir, who accepted the affection with a small show of discomfort. "A sneaky ambush for sure, well spotted my friend. I always said you were a hidden treasure!"
For the rest of the group, the transformation of a sneaky, cowardly elf into a saving hero caused a fair amount of quiet consternation. Generally it was seen as a "good thing", considering the alternative. The shaman had cast her bones, and no harm was predicted... Maybe he had just shrugged a curse, or escaped a bedazzlement.
Mynir contemplated his situation. His new elf brain was clear and concise. and more importantly, his hugely unbalanced mental chemistry was gone. The Sorcerer was vastly mistaken. These people were his family now. Woe betide any who tried to harm them. Could he make amends for his past? He could try. | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | "That was..." Brawg began, staggering over the bodies of the fallen goblins, his boots squelching in the treacle-like blood.
"Far too..." said Vesperr, returning her bow to her back, and beginning to pluck out arrows from the deceased enemies.
"Oxyrin!" finished Oxyrin, his pointed hat falling over his eyes once again. Dribble oozed down from his mouth and his pupils spun this way and that, as if two compasses confused by magnets.
Brawg and Vesperr looked at each other for a moment, then burst out laughing. Brawg brought a thunderous hand down on the wizard's back. "Don't ever change, Oxyrin!" he said.
"Oh, Oxyrin," grinned Vesperr, "you're the reason we do this, you know? For that smile on your face." She wiped away a the spittle from his lips, then shook her finger, sending the spit plopping onto the ground.
"Oxyrin!" Oxyrin repeated. A pointed tongue darted out of his mouth and latched onto a fly that was hovering over a brutalised body below.
"I'm going to pretend I didn't just see that," said Brawg with a wink. "Okay gang, I'd say we're all done here. I believe its time to go collect our reward."
"Not so fast, my friends," came a mysterious voice from behind them. Only, when they turned, there was *nothing* behind them.
Slowly, the blue-robed wizard hazed into existence. "It is I, the *real* Oxyrin! I have been trapped for the longest time, but I have finally outsmarted my captors and have returned to my friends. For no one is as clever as the Great Oxyrin!"
Brawg and Vesperr glanced at each other, then let out a joint gasp.
"Quite you might gasp," said Oxyrin, as he turned and pointed an accusing finger at the other blue wizard, who was now on all fours chasing after a spider. "For that fellow, has fooled you, my dear friends. But he is nothing more than an impostor! A Doppelganger! A fake, a fraud, and dare I say it, a phoney."
Brawg nudged Vesperr and they both gasped again.
"How.. erm, how can we believe you?" asked Vesperr, her top lip wet with nervous sweat. "How do we know he--"she pointed to the to the wizard, who was now chewing on something--"isn't the real Oxyrin. After all, he would have had to fool us both for two entire years."
Oxyrin rolled his eyes. "Hardly a challenging task. You two never were the"--his hands burst into blue flames--"brightest sparks. Ha. Hahaha."
Brawg's muscles tensed. Vesperr put a hand against his chest.
"That's not proof enough. For our Oxyrin can also do such petty parlour tricks."
"Very well," Oxyrin sighed, "I shall prove it. We shall have a wizard-off."
"Smart," said Vesperr. She let out a high pitched whistle, at which the other Oxyrin came bounding over to her.
"Oxyrin!" he sputtered as he arrived.
"Is that all he can say? How could you *possibly* believe he was me?"
"Good point," said Brawg. "His vocabulary is much larger."
"Oh. You made a joke. How very amusing."
"Okay," said Vesperr. "Round one of the wizard-off. *Shape-shifting.*"
"What? What a stupid round," complained Oxyrin, "for sniffing out a shape-shifter!" His face was red and a vein popped out of his forehead, pulsating like waves on the ocean. "Unbelievable idiocy. How you have possibly survived this long without me to guide you -- heaven only knows!"
"Oxyrin!" replied the other Oxyrin.
"Well, if you can't do it and he can..." said Brawg shrugging, "then I guess we know who the real wizard is."
"Oh... *pish!* Very well. And what must we change into, pray tell?"
"Something very small. To really challenge your morphitisation skills. A fly. Simple. First one to transform into a fly wins."
"Sala kazoo, Sala kazam!" shouted Oxyrin. There was a puff of smoke that left Vesperr and Brawg coughing. As it cleared, and only for the briefest moment, they saw a fly. Then, they saw a huge, pointed tongue. Finally, they saw an Oxyrin chewing on and then swallowing *something*.
"Oxyrin!" he shouted triumphantly, as Brawg and Vesperr collapsed into a fit of laughter.
"Oh Oxyrin," said Brawg, slapping him on the back "you really are too much."
"And," said Vesperr, "we wouldn't have it any other way!"
| Finally....free. The thousand years of waiting, watching in this cursed statue at an end. An elf, rigid with agony as his persona, his spirit, his life is leached away. Now the malevolent spirit got his first taste of air, of blood, of form.
"Er.. Mynir, you ok?" asked a gruff voice, a question which did not raise much concern with the rest of the party.
"Death!" hissed Mynir, or the thing that Mynir had become. He stared at the
party balefully out of reddened eyes, his hands raised, claw like over his head.
This response was not unexpected, and with a nod of acknowledgement, Drake the barbarian turned away and followed the rest of the party. He dragged a small chest of gold, which would hardly pay for this outing, but he seemed cheerful enough. The dead bodies of the unfortunate orcs he kicked out of his path were likely the reason for that.
The Mynir thing was still reeling, remembering his last moments before being encased, the worst psychopath the sorcerer could find in this land, his victims so numerous they were uncounted, uncountable. (and horribly unrecognisable.) A suitable trap for the unwary, a terrible harbinger of doom with the face of a once trusted companion.
He followed the party into the fresh air, and stood a little apart as they settled a camp, built a fire, cooked a meal. A dwarf began singing a cheerful song, as jokes and banter drifted out into the cool night.
Mynir felt the hilts of two beautiful elven daggers in his hands. In a movement too swift for any but an elf to see, they cleared the scabbards and whirled around his head. Blood and screams followed. A mist of red exploded from a neck, a bone cracked as a dextrous kick twisted a knee joint out of place. A heart was pierced by a single blow. In less than a few seconds it was all over. Five bodies lay on the ground, dead or dying.
The silence that had descended over the camp was broken by Drake. "Holy Mother, how the hell did you.." He trailed off, staring in amazement.
The Dwarf leapt to his feet and rushed to hug Mynir, who accepted the affection with a small show of discomfort. "A sneaky ambush for sure, well spotted my friend. I always said you were a hidden treasure!"
For the rest of the group, the transformation of a sneaky, cowardly elf into a saving hero caused a fair amount of quiet consternation. Generally it was seen as a "good thing", considering the alternative. The shaman had cast her bones, and no harm was predicted... Maybe he had just shrugged a curse, or escaped a bedazzlement.
Mynir contemplated his situation. His new elf brain was clear and concise. and more importantly, his hugely unbalanced mental chemistry was gone. The Sorcerer was vastly mistaken. These people were his family now. Woe betide any who tried to harm them. Could he make amends for his past? He could try. | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | "That was..." Brawg began, staggering over the bodies of the fallen goblins, his boots squelching in the treacle-like blood.
"Far too..." said Vesperr, returning her bow to her back, and beginning to pluck out arrows from the deceased enemies.
"Oxyrin!" finished Oxyrin, his pointed hat falling over his eyes once again. Dribble oozed down from his mouth and his pupils spun this way and that, as if two compasses confused by magnets.
Brawg and Vesperr looked at each other for a moment, then burst out laughing. Brawg brought a thunderous hand down on the wizard's back. "Don't ever change, Oxyrin!" he said.
"Oh, Oxyrin," grinned Vesperr, "you're the reason we do this, you know? For that smile on your face." She wiped away a the spittle from his lips, then shook her finger, sending the spit plopping onto the ground.
"Oxyrin!" Oxyrin repeated. A pointed tongue darted out of his mouth and latched onto a fly that was hovering over a brutalised body below.
"I'm going to pretend I didn't just see that," said Brawg with a wink. "Okay gang, I'd say we're all done here. I believe its time to go collect our reward."
"Not so fast, my friends," came a mysterious voice from behind them. Only, when they turned, there was *nothing* behind them.
Slowly, the blue-robed wizard hazed into existence. "It is I, the *real* Oxyrin! I have been trapped for the longest time, but I have finally outsmarted my captors and have returned to my friends. For no one is as clever as the Great Oxyrin!"
Brawg and Vesperr glanced at each other, then let out a joint gasp.
"Quite you might gasp," said Oxyrin, as he turned and pointed an accusing finger at the other blue wizard, who was now on all fours chasing after a spider. "For that fellow, has fooled you, my dear friends. But he is nothing more than an impostor! A Doppelganger! A fake, a fraud, and dare I say it, a phoney."
Brawg nudged Vesperr and they both gasped again.
"How.. erm, how can we believe you?" asked Vesperr, her top lip wet with nervous sweat. "How do we know he--"she pointed to the to the wizard, who was now chewing on something--"isn't the real Oxyrin. After all, he would have had to fool us both for two entire years."
Oxyrin rolled his eyes. "Hardly a challenging task. You two never were the"--his hands burst into blue flames--"brightest sparks. Ha. Hahaha."
Brawg's muscles tensed. Vesperr put a hand against his chest.
"That's not proof enough. For our Oxyrin can also do such petty parlour tricks."
"Very well," Oxyrin sighed, "I shall prove it. We shall have a wizard-off."
"Smart," said Vesperr. She let out a high pitched whistle, at which the other Oxyrin came bounding over to her.
"Oxyrin!" he sputtered as he arrived.
"Is that all he can say? How could you *possibly* believe he was me?"
"Good point," said Brawg. "His vocabulary is much larger."
"Oh. You made a joke. How very amusing."
"Okay," said Vesperr. "Round one of the wizard-off. *Shape-shifting.*"
"What? What a stupid round," complained Oxyrin, "for sniffing out a shape-shifter!" His face was red and a vein popped out of his forehead, pulsating like waves on the ocean. "Unbelievable idiocy. How you have possibly survived this long without me to guide you -- heaven only knows!"
"Oxyrin!" replied the other Oxyrin.
"Well, if you can't do it and he can..." said Brawg shrugging, "then I guess we know who the real wizard is."
"Oh... *pish!* Very well. And what must we change into, pray tell?"
"Something very small. To really challenge your morphitisation skills. A fly. Simple. First one to transform into a fly wins."
"Sala kazoo, Sala kazam!" shouted Oxyrin. There was a puff of smoke that left Vesperr and Brawg coughing. As it cleared, and only for the briefest moment, they saw a fly. Then, they saw a huge, pointed tongue. Finally, they saw an Oxyrin chewing on and then swallowing *something*.
"Oxyrin!" he shouted triumphantly, as Brawg and Vesperr collapsed into a fit of laughter.
"Oh Oxyrin," said Brawg, slapping him on the back "you really are too much."
"And," said Vesperr, "we wouldn't have it any other way!"
| Finally....free. The thousand years of waiting, watching in this cursed statue at an end. An elf, rigid with agony as his persona, his spirit, his life is leached away. Now the malevolent spirit got his first taste of air, of blood, of form.
"Er.. Mynir, you ok?" asked a gruff voice, a question which did not raise much concern with the rest of the party.
"Death!" hissed Mynir, or the thing that Mynir had become. He stared at the
party balefully out of reddened eyes, his hands raised, claw like over his head.
This response was not unexpected, and with a nod of acknowledgement, Drake the barbarian turned away and followed the rest of the party. He dragged a small chest of gold, which would hardly pay for this outing, but he seemed cheerful enough. The dead bodies of the unfortunate orcs he kicked out of his path were likely the reason for that.
The Mynir thing was still reeling, remembering his last moments before being encased, the worst psychopath the sorcerer could find in this land, his victims so numerous they were uncounted, uncountable. (and horribly unrecognisable.) A suitable trap for the unwary, a terrible harbinger of doom with the face of a once trusted companion.
He followed the party into the fresh air, and stood a little apart as they settled a camp, built a fire, cooked a meal. A dwarf began singing a cheerful song, as jokes and banter drifted out into the cool night.
Mynir felt the hilts of two beautiful elven daggers in his hands. In a movement too swift for any but an elf to see, they cleared the scabbards and whirled around his head. Blood and screams followed. A mist of red exploded from a neck, a bone cracked as a dextrous kick twisted a knee joint out of place. A heart was pierced by a single blow. In less than a few seconds it was all over. Five bodies lay on the ground, dead or dying.
The silence that had descended over the camp was broken by Drake. "Holy Mother, how the hell did you.." He trailed off, staring in amazement.
The Dwarf leapt to his feet and rushed to hug Mynir, who accepted the affection with a small show of discomfort. "A sneaky ambush for sure, well spotted my friend. I always said you were a hidden treasure!"
For the rest of the group, the transformation of a sneaky, cowardly elf into a saving hero caused a fair amount of quiet consternation. Generally it was seen as a "good thing", considering the alternative. The shaman had cast her bones, and no harm was predicted... Maybe he had just shrugged a curse, or escaped a bedazzlement.
Mynir contemplated his situation. His new elf brain was clear and concise. and more importantly, his hugely unbalanced mental chemistry was gone. The Sorcerer was vastly mistaken. These people were his family now. Woe betide any who tried to harm them. Could he make amends for his past? He could try. | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | "A fine...mead?!" Rorik shouts over the din of the tavern. His companions smile and nod along with him as he sings some old barbarian tune.
Sings it wrong. They don't tell him that though.
Delia, the group's cleric leans over to their mage.
"Do you think he knows?"
Melvar just shakes his head and holds out a palm towards their massive friend. Friend as of lately, of course. Rorik was a massive pain for the group long before the shifter stole his face.
"He definitely doesn't but...I think I like him. Rorik was a bit of a jerk, always running off into the dungeons with that stupid battlecry. Remember when we went into the Crypt of Alohar, how many good people did he get killed?"
"Yeah...he's kinda cute now. Like a child or something."
They both watch Rorik move around the tavern with his mug and talk to other groups of adventurers. He's loud but not overbearing. He listens to the stories of others instead of telling his own. He drinks but not to excess. He is nothing like the barbarian they all had come to know and...
Melvar doesn't quite finish the thought.
"You know what Del, I like him. I know he's a shifter but look at everyone. We all know and he's trying so hard to be like Rorik but he just can't. I don't think there's a mean bone in that thing's body. You know that he hasn't made fun of my beard once, not in months."
She snorts. The young mage was trying so hard to grow it out and he'd been self-conscious about it for months.
A warrior passing by their table to his own party leans over and whispers it to the pair.
"You should keep him. He's an improvement."
"Friends!" Rorik shouts, sitting again at their table, "What fun! And we do this between every adventure? And people give us gold to go on those adventures? To spend here? Amazing!"
He is off again before they can even respond.
"Do you think The Dwarf knows?" Melvar watches Rorik join another random group of adventures and sing yet another song. Still wrong.
Delia shrugs.
"I don't know and I don't care. We're gonna keep him. He's like a dog or something. But useful."
Melvar strokes his "beard" for a moment.
"Alright, we'll keep him. But I swear if he ever makes fun of my beard-"
"What? You'll strangle him with one of your wisps? You should really shave, you're looking more like a magical hobo than a wizard. 'I cast: smell of unwashedness!'"
As she walks away laughing at her own joke Melvar narrows his eyes. He lifts his mug and mutters something into it before drinking.
"I'll replace you too if I have to..." | Finally....free. The thousand years of waiting, watching in this cursed statue at an end. An elf, rigid with agony as his persona, his spirit, his life is leached away. Now the malevolent spirit got his first taste of air, of blood, of form.
"Er.. Mynir, you ok?" asked a gruff voice, a question which did not raise much concern with the rest of the party.
"Death!" hissed Mynir, or the thing that Mynir had become. He stared at the
party balefully out of reddened eyes, his hands raised, claw like over his head.
This response was not unexpected, and with a nod of acknowledgement, Drake the barbarian turned away and followed the rest of the party. He dragged a small chest of gold, which would hardly pay for this outing, but he seemed cheerful enough. The dead bodies of the unfortunate orcs he kicked out of his path were likely the reason for that.
The Mynir thing was still reeling, remembering his last moments before being encased, the worst psychopath the sorcerer could find in this land, his victims so numerous they were uncounted, uncountable. (and horribly unrecognisable.) A suitable trap for the unwary, a terrible harbinger of doom with the face of a once trusted companion.
He followed the party into the fresh air, and stood a little apart as they settled a camp, built a fire, cooked a meal. A dwarf began singing a cheerful song, as jokes and banter drifted out into the cool night.
Mynir felt the hilts of two beautiful elven daggers in his hands. In a movement too swift for any but an elf to see, they cleared the scabbards and whirled around his head. Blood and screams followed. A mist of red exploded from a neck, a bone cracked as a dextrous kick twisted a knee joint out of place. A heart was pierced by a single blow. In less than a few seconds it was all over. Five bodies lay on the ground, dead or dying.
The silence that had descended over the camp was broken by Drake. "Holy Mother, how the hell did you.." He trailed off, staring in amazement.
The Dwarf leapt to his feet and rushed to hug Mynir, who accepted the affection with a small show of discomfort. "A sneaky ambush for sure, well spotted my friend. I always said you were a hidden treasure!"
For the rest of the group, the transformation of a sneaky, cowardly elf into a saving hero caused a fair amount of quiet consternation. Generally it was seen as a "good thing", considering the alternative. The shaman had cast her bones, and no harm was predicted... Maybe he had just shrugged a curse, or escaped a bedazzlement.
Mynir contemplated his situation. His new elf brain was clear and concise. and more importantly, his hugely unbalanced mental chemistry was gone. The Sorcerer was vastly mistaken. These people were his family now. Woe betide any who tried to harm them. Could he make amends for his past? He could try. | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | "A fine...mead?!" Rorik shouts over the din of the tavern. His companions smile and nod along with him as he sings some old barbarian tune.
Sings it wrong. They don't tell him that though.
Delia, the group's cleric leans over to their mage.
"Do you think he knows?"
Melvar just shakes his head and holds out a palm towards their massive friend. Friend as of lately, of course. Rorik was a massive pain for the group long before the shifter stole his face.
"He definitely doesn't but...I think I like him. Rorik was a bit of a jerk, always running off into the dungeons with that stupid battlecry. Remember when we went into the Crypt of Alohar, how many good people did he get killed?"
"Yeah...he's kinda cute now. Like a child or something."
They both watch Rorik move around the tavern with his mug and talk to other groups of adventurers. He's loud but not overbearing. He listens to the stories of others instead of telling his own. He drinks but not to excess. He is nothing like the barbarian they all had come to know and...
Melvar doesn't quite finish the thought.
"You know what Del, I like him. I know he's a shifter but look at everyone. We all know and he's trying so hard to be like Rorik but he just can't. I don't think there's a mean bone in that thing's body. You know that he hasn't made fun of my beard once, not in months."
She snorts. The young mage was trying so hard to grow it out and he'd been self-conscious about it for months.
A warrior passing by their table to his own party leans over and whispers it to the pair.
"You should keep him. He's an improvement."
"Friends!" Rorik shouts, sitting again at their table, "What fun! And we do this between every adventure? And people give us gold to go on those adventures? To spend here? Amazing!"
He is off again before they can even respond.
"Do you think The Dwarf knows?" Melvar watches Rorik join another random group of adventures and sing yet another song. Still wrong.
Delia shrugs.
"I don't know and I don't care. We're gonna keep him. He's like a dog or something. But useful."
Melvar strokes his "beard" for a moment.
"Alright, we'll keep him. But I swear if he ever makes fun of my beard-"
"What? You'll strangle him with one of your wisps? You should really shave, you're looking more like a magical hobo than a wizard. 'I cast: smell of unwashedness!'"
As she walks away laughing at her own joke Melvar narrows his eyes. He lifts his mug and mutters something into it before drinking.
"I'll replace you too if I have to..." | Finally....free. The thousand years of waiting, watching in this cursed statue at an end. An elf, rigid with agony as his persona, his spirit, his life is leached away. Now the malevolent spirit got his first taste of air, of blood, of form.
"Er.. Mynir, you ok?" asked a gruff voice, a question which did not raise much concern with the rest of the party.
"Death!" hissed Mynir, or the thing that Mynir had become. He stared at the
party balefully out of reddened eyes, his hands raised, claw like over his head.
This response was not unexpected, and with a nod of acknowledgement, Drake the barbarian turned away and followed the rest of the party. He dragged a small chest of gold, which would hardly pay for this outing, but he seemed cheerful enough. The dead bodies of the unfortunate orcs he kicked out of his path were likely the reason for that.
The Mynir thing was still reeling, remembering his last moments before being encased, the worst psychopath the sorcerer could find in this land, his victims so numerous they were uncounted, uncountable. (and horribly unrecognisable.) A suitable trap for the unwary, a terrible harbinger of doom with the face of a once trusted companion.
He followed the party into the fresh air, and stood a little apart as they settled a camp, built a fire, cooked a meal. A dwarf began singing a cheerful song, as jokes and banter drifted out into the cool night.
Mynir felt the hilts of two beautiful elven daggers in his hands. In a movement too swift for any but an elf to see, they cleared the scabbards and whirled around his head. Blood and screams followed. A mist of red exploded from a neck, a bone cracked as a dextrous kick twisted a knee joint out of place. A heart was pierced by a single blow. In less than a few seconds it was all over. Five bodies lay on the ground, dead or dying.
The silence that had descended over the camp was broken by Drake. "Holy Mother, how the hell did you.." He trailed off, staring in amazement.
The Dwarf leapt to his feet and rushed to hug Mynir, who accepted the affection with a small show of discomfort. "A sneaky ambush for sure, well spotted my friend. I always said you were a hidden treasure!"
For the rest of the group, the transformation of a sneaky, cowardly elf into a saving hero caused a fair amount of quiet consternation. Generally it was seen as a "good thing", considering the alternative. The shaman had cast her bones, and no harm was predicted... Maybe he had just shrugged a curse, or escaped a bedazzlement.
Mynir contemplated his situation. His new elf brain was clear and concise. and more importantly, his hugely unbalanced mental chemistry was gone. The Sorcerer was vastly mistaken. These people were his family now. Woe betide any who tried to harm them. Could he make amends for his past? He could try. | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | The tavern was alight with candles and warm fires, the smell of meats and bread wafted through to the rafters of wood and plaster. Ale stained the floor in places and the barkeep had been working on a single mug for a startling amount of time. All and all a lively place to be on this evening.
"Ah and a fine night to you as well gentlemen! Merry blessings!" The rogue said, as the men who joined him for cards departed a few coins heavier then they were at start.
"Is this not grand fellows?" The elf turned to his crew. "Ale in the air! A tavern filled with beautiful women! And my closest friend in the world." He stood then, a leg up on the top of the table, his back leg supporting him from the ground
"Ladies! Gentlemen!" He yelled, "Tonight, join me in toast to this merry band of fighters, lovers and the heroes of this town tonight! We are all thankful," he stopped to smile at his friends, the ale tinting his checks red "but I am thankful, for they are the truest of my friends" and with that he drank. The here-heres rose in strength from the crowd, and he was jostled away by the crowd with promises to be back later.
The dwarf, gnome and orc all sat in silence, looking at their drinks solemnly.
The dwarf sighed, pinching the top of his nose,
The orc had his hand in his head looking off into nothingness,
Finally the gnome chimed in, quietly, but with a resolute tone
"Okay, I'll say it. He's a much better companion then Roderick and we should do everything in our earthly powers not to mess this up."
The orc and dwarf both sighed in unanimous relief
The orc chimed in first with a hushed tone and feeling in his voice "Its like he knew what a whoreson Roderick was!" He said, sitting at attention once again " its like he knew and said to himself 'oh! These chaps look like they could use a new, better companion!' Then took it upon himself, through all the peril, to join us in disguise! All while throwing Roderick into god knows where!" He laughed. "The monster was OUR hero!"
The dwarf was next, wide eyed and hands extended to point out "Roderick" in the crowd. " look at that bloody rogue, he blends right in, they would never know they're holding possibly one of the most dangerous monsters in the land" he lowered his hands, then pointed out, " for all that, doesn't that also make him a better rogue?" They all agreed quietly.
The orc chimed in once more, tentatively, " look Roderick is a whoreson who would and almost did murder us for a small some of coin, twice." They all agreed muttering comments under their breath, " but were the you know...good guys... shouldn't we at least try to save him?"
The others were about to reluctantly agree when "Roderick" appeared before them once again
"My friends! this is as much your victory as mine! More so! Come join us, the mayor seems keen on raising our rewards! I thought it only fitting you be by my... Nay, I be by your sides during this!" He smiled warmly.
They looked at each other, shrugged and smiled
"No that's fine, we can be knaves for a night." The gnome said, stepping up from his seat. | John, George, and Ringo were huddled together inside a secret room on the fantastical magical yellow submarine.
"George, how confident are you?"
George left his momentary silence of contemplation to say " Paul is dead man, miss him."
Ringo asks, "do you though? I mean I doubt if you guys would miss me either."
John shook his head, "we must have lost him on our way through Abby Road"
George sighed "I like the new one. I say we let it be."
A knock on the door. "You there guys? I was hoping we'd do a music number about friendship."
John looked at the others, and they nodded in agreement. John opened the door and announced, "ALL TOGETHER NOW!" | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | John, George, and Ringo were huddled together inside a secret room on the fantastical magical yellow submarine.
"George, how confident are you?"
George left his momentary silence of contemplation to say " Paul is dead man, miss him."
Ringo asks, "do you though? I mean I doubt if you guys would miss me either."
John shook his head, "we must have lost him on our way through Abby Road"
George sighed "I like the new one. I say we let it be."
A knock on the door. "You there guys? I was hoping we'd do a music number about friendship."
John looked at the others, and they nodded in agreement. John opened the door and announced, "ALL TOGETHER NOW!" | John, George, and Ringo were huddled together inside a secret room on the fantastical magical yellow submarine.
"George, how confident are you?"
George left his momentary silence of contemplation to say " Paul is dead man, miss him."
Ringo asks, "do you though? I mean I doubt if you guys would miss me either."
John shook his head, "we must have lost him on our way through Abby Road"
George sighed "I like the new one. I say we let it be."
A knock on the door. "You there guys? I was hoping we'd do a music number about friendship."
John looked at the others, and they nodded in agreement. John opened the door and announced, "ALL TOGETHER NOW!" | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | The tavern was alight with candles and warm fires, the smell of meats and bread wafted through to the rafters of wood and plaster. Ale stained the floor in places and the barkeep had been working on a single mug for a startling amount of time. All and all a lively place to be on this evening.
"Ah and a fine night to you as well gentlemen! Merry blessings!" The rogue said, as the men who joined him for cards departed a few coins heavier then they were at start.
"Is this not grand fellows?" The elf turned to his crew. "Ale in the air! A tavern filled with beautiful women! And my closest friends in the world." He stood then, a leg up on the top of the table, his back leg supporting him from the ground
"Ladies! Gentlemen!" He yelled, "Tonight, join me in toast to this merry band of fighters, lovers and the heroes of this town! We are all thankful," he stopped to smile at his friends, the ale tinting his checks red "but I am thankful, for they are the truest of my friends" and with that he drank. The here-heres rose in strength from the crowd, and he was jostled away by the crowd with promises to be back later.
The dwarf, gnome and orc all sat in silence, looking at their drinks solemnly.
The dwarf sighed, pinching the top of his nose,
The orc had his head in his hands looking off into nothingness,
Finally the gnome chimed in, quietly, but with a resolute tone
"Okay, I'll say it. He's a much better companion then Roderick and we should do everything in our earthly powers not to mess this up."
The orc and dwarf both sighed in unanimous relief
The orc chimed in first with a hushed tone and feeling in his voice "Its like he knew what a whoreson Roderick was!" He said, sitting at attention once again " its like he knew and said to himself 'oh! These chaps look like they could use a new, better companion!' Then took it upon himself, through all the peril, to join us in disguise! All while throwing Roderick into god knows where!" He laughed. "The monster was OUR hero!"
The dwarf was next, wide eyed and hands extended to point out "Roderick" in the crowd. " look at that bloody rogue, he blends right in, they would never know they're holding possibly one of the most dangerous monsters in the land" he lowered his hands, then pointed out, " for all that, doesn't that also make him a better rogue?" They all agreed quietly.
The orc chimed in once more, tentatively, " look Roderick is a whoreson who would and almost did murder us for a small some of coin, twice." They all agreed muttering comments under their breath, " but were the you know...good guys... shouldn't we at least try to save him?"
The others were about to reluctantly agree when "Roderick" appeared before them once again
"My friends! this is as much your victory as mine! More so! Come join us, the mayor seems keen on raising our rewards! I thought it only fitting you be by my... Nay, I be by your sides during this!" He smiled warmly.
They looked at each other, shrugged and smiled
"No that's fine, we can be knaves for a night." The gnome said, stepping up from his seat. | John, George, and Ringo were huddled together inside a secret room on the fantastical magical yellow submarine.
"George, how confident are you?"
George left his momentary silence of contemplation to say " Paul is dead man, miss him."
Ringo asks, "do you though? I mean I doubt if you guys would miss me either."
John shook his head, "we must have lost him on our way through Abby Road"
George sighed "I like the new one. I say we let it be."
A knock on the door. "You there guys? I was hoping we'd do a music number about friendship."
John looked at the others, and they nodded in agreement. John opened the door and announced, "ALL TOGETHER NOW!" | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | "Guys, I think those holes might be for arrows or something. We had better check if this hallway is trapped!" warned Danny.
The party stopped, and Julie, an experienced rogue, did a check for traps. Sure enough, she found one, though curiously it was already disarmed.
Veronica explained, "It looks like someone has already blocked the mechanism with a rock. It should be safe to head down the passageway."
"Wait, before we go on, I need a quick break to use the loo." Danny looked abashed.
That brought some sighs from the group. "Couldn't you have done that a few minutes ago, before we entered the dungeon?" asked Veronica.
"Sorry everyone," replied Danny, "I drank too much water earlier." And off he went in search of some relief.
With Danny gone, the party had a moment to talk to themselves.
"He's really been such a better husband and father since....", Veronica trailed off.
"Yes, we've noticed lots of positive changes," replied Jim.
"He's making so much more time for the children. He's being so much more responsible in every way."
"You yourself seem happier these days", remarked Julie. "Have you decided to let on that you know?"
"No, I'm worried it...he... might decide to stop pretending. Our love-life has gotten incredible, and he is so much more into the role playing aspects I enjoy." For a moment her conflicting emotions filled her face. "He is my husband, even if he isn't the man I married anymore."
"We're here for you. We'll keep it quiet." Julie gave her hand a squeeze. "Oh, I think he's coming back."
Danny walked in, and rejoined the party. "Lets go kick some goblin butt!" He picked up the dice, and turned and look at his wife with a smile. "Ok DM, what do you think I need to roll to get a pizza delivered while we finish our game?" | John, George, and Ringo were huddled together inside a secret room on the fantastical magical yellow submarine.
"George, how confident are you?"
George left his momentary silence of contemplation to say " Paul is dead man, miss him."
Ringo asks, "do you though? I mean I doubt if you guys would miss me either."
John shook his head, "we must have lost him on our way through Abby Road"
George sighed "I like the new one. I say we let it be."
A knock on the door. "You there guys? I was hoping we'd do a music number about friendship."
John looked at the others, and they nodded in agreement. John opened the door and announced, "ALL TOGETHER NOW!" | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | "GREETINGS FELLOW ADVENTURING HUMANS!" Boomed the voice of Danny the Elf sat bolt upright from the sleeping cloth sack she had been in, causing Bob the Barbarian to grunt and curl up under his animal hide sleeping rug again.
"IT IS I, YOUR GOOD FRIEND DAN, I AM UNHARMED AFTER MY ENCOUNTER WITH THE DAEMON!" She continued smiling oddly, her mouth breaking into a wide grin with teeth and her eyebrows actually elevating.
"Dann...." Feldspar the half-elf warlock managed to stop himself from saying Danny, "You told us this before, remember?"
Danny the Elf blinked, everything was always so terribly confusing, having come from a dimension that didn't have time it had to learn about things happening and things that had happened, Makor the Cleric had helped with that, teaching the snow elf about how things happen and can't be changed but things that haven't happened yet can be altered.
"OH YES FRIEND!" Danny laughed as if it was a running joke, Sim the halfling thief/bard laughed a little as well in sympathy or perhaps enjoyment.
"WHERE ARE WE GOING TODAY? WILL THERE BE MORE EXCELLENT FERMENTED YEAST PRODUCTS TO CONSUME?"
Makor nodded slowly, "That's right Dan, more beer at the end of the adventure, now how did we get back the entrance avoiding the dragon, getting the treasure and nobody getting hurt?"
"OF COURSE FRIEND! THIS IS A THING THAT HAPPENED ALREADY AFTER ALL!" Danny confirmed with the group as each of them nodded in agreement pressing in to listen carefully to Danny.
"FIRSTLY, WE LEFT THE ROOM BY THE SOUTH ENTRANCE, SIM DISABLED THE PIT TRAP AFTER FALLING INTO IT AND DYING THE FIRST TIME HE TRIED." Danny started to explain.
Sim frowned a little looking towards the South entrance, he'd died; again, if 'Dan' hadn't told him about the pit trap or the acid or the undercooked chicken or ... he was incredibly glad that 'Dan' had changed so dramatically since that encounter with the demon.
"THE TREASURE IS MOSTLY CURSED AND FELDSPAR CHANGED INTO A SHEEP WHEN HE PICKED UP A STAFF THEN A STATUE AS HE TOUCHED THE CURSED DIAMOND AS LARGE AS HIS FIST AND THEN WAS KILLED AS HE PICKED UP A CROWN." Danny continued as Feldspar took careful notes, the warlock couldn't remember the last time he'd bothered to cast identification or detect item status.
Feldspar liked whatever was living inside Danny, even when the party wasn't using it as a cheap way to complete adventures the Elf was nicer, kinder and fun to listen to, with her soft voice always shouting it was hard not to giggle at her.
"THEN AS WE LEAVE THE REAL MAKOR ATTACKS THE FAKE ONE CURRENTLY TRAVELLING WITH US AND IS EASILY DEFEATED." Danny concluded smiling proudly.
Makor looked around the group as for a moment he was sure that his plan had been ruined, they must know, it was just said aloud.
Sim however was fiddling with his lock picks, clearly fully distracted, Feldspar was already in a meditative trance memorising spells.
Bob smiled widely at Makor and Danny before speaking in his native tongue, "What did she say then? Sounded like bad news for you, Feldspar and Sim..."
Makor nodded with a rush of relief as Bob wondered how many more times he could possibly pass that particular lie your face off check. | John, George, and Ringo were huddled together inside a secret room on the fantastical magical yellow submarine.
"George, how confident are you?"
George left his momentary silence of contemplation to say " Paul is dead man, miss him."
Ringo asks, "do you though? I mean I doubt if you guys would miss me either."
John shook his head, "we must have lost him on our way through Abby Road"
George sighed "I like the new one. I say we let it be."
A knock on the door. "You there guys? I was hoping we'd do a music number about friendship."
John looked at the others, and they nodded in agreement. John opened the door and announced, "ALL TOGETHER NOW!" | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | Theldon – or at least the creature that was wearing his face – looked pale in the light of the campfire. As the wood crackled and burned, he chewed his lower lip, gathering his courage to speak.
“Guys … I … I have something to tell you,” he managed.
His three traveling companions looked at him. Vanariel snapped her spellbook shut and drew her staff. “What is it? An ambush? I told you guys I saw goblin-sign back there!”
“No, no! Not goblins!” Theldon said, holding his hands out. “It’s … it’s about me.”
Shiny Pete smirked. “What? You got the whore’s itch or something? Nothing to be ashamed of, buddy. Happened to us all once or twice.”
Dagmar glowered at the rogue from under bushy eyebrows. “Or mayhap a good number of times more than that.”
“No! It's not a disease either! It’s just …” Theldon took a deep breath. “Guys … I’m … I’m a doppelganger."
The three of them shared a long look, and then Vanariel and Shiny Pete burst out laughing. Dagmar’s glower deepened. “That’s no’ funny, lad,” he growled.
Vanariel and Shiny Pete stopped laughing. “Wait, wait,” the rogue said, “Dagmar, you didn’t *know?*”
Theldon looked shocked. “Wait, you guys *knew?*”
The elven woman tittered. “You’re not the shapeshifter you think you are. The real Theldon was an asshole.”
“Total dickwad,” Shiny Pete agreed. “In, like, every conceivable way.”
Dagmar leapt to his feet, drawing his axe. “You mean this is no’ a joke?” he roared, advancing on Theldon. “Die, fiend!”
As one, Vanariel and Shiny Pete placed themselves between the enraged dwarf and the doppleganger. “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Shiny Pete yelled. “This might not be the original Theldon, but he’s been with us for almost a year now. He was the guy who stood over you after you got paralyzed by a ghoul.”
“He took point when we fought that dragon,” Vanariel continued.
“Hell, he got in the face of evil sorcerer while you were busy chopping up his henchmen,” Shiny Pete added.
“Those henchmen represented a serious threat!” Dagmar retorted, “And it was no' like it was a full-grown dragon. Only a wee one!”
In unison, Valariel and Shiny Pete rolled their eyes. Dagmar glowered some more. He was good at it, and he liked to play to his strengths. At last the dwarf made a humphing noise and lowered his axe. Valariel sat down and opened her spellbook again. “Okay, that’s over right? We can get back to the adventuring?”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Pete said. Dagmar only grunted.
“Did you guys really know?” Theldon asked, still somewhat wary of the dwarf.
“Oh, yeah. I mean, it was kind of suspicious how he was dying of jungle rot one day and completely fine the next. But you’re really not much like the original Theldon at all. First of all, you’re actually useful in combat. And second of all, you’re a decent guy. I mean, I can have an ale with you and not worry that you’re going to stiff me on the check,” Pete said.
“Or stare at my tits while I’m trancing. Or grab my ass when I’m trying to brew potions,” Vanariel added. “And the ear jokes. Ugh, the original Theldon was such a creep. Why did we even keep him around?”
"Good question," Pete said. "I mean, I asked myself that a bunch of times after we got new Theldon. 'Why did we even keep that tool around in the first place?'"
“So you guys don’t even care that I’m a shapeshifter?”
“Not really, no,” Pete said. “I worked with lots of different people when I was in the Thieves’ Guild. Changelings weren’t any more likely to try killing me in my sleep than humans or half-elves. In my experience, everyone’s pretty human when you get down to it.”
“Hey! Speak for yourself, round-ears,” Vanariel said with half of a smile. “But nevertheless, I agree with the sentiment.”
“Oh,” Theldon said. He sat in own thoughts for a moment. “Thanks, guys. That means a lot to me.”
“Don’t mention it,” Pete said, and Vanariel nodded in agreement.
The evening passed in silence. Shiny Pete honed his daggers, and Vanariel memorized her spells. Dagmar and Theldon each sat in silence, alone with his thoughts.
At last the dwarf spoke. “Lad,” he asked the doppleganger, “have you ever tried maybe not being a shapeshifter?”
| John, George, and Ringo were huddled together inside a secret room on the fantastical magical yellow submarine.
"George, how confident are you?"
George left his momentary silence of contemplation to say " Paul is dead man, miss him."
Ringo asks, "do you though? I mean I doubt if you guys would miss me either."
John shook his head, "we must have lost him on our way through Abby Road"
George sighed "I like the new one. I say we let it be."
A knock on the door. "You there guys? I was hoping we'd do a music number about friendship."
John looked at the others, and they nodded in agreement. John opened the door and announced, "ALL TOGETHER NOW!" | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | Theldon – or at least the creature that was wearing his face – looked pale in the light of the campfire. As the wood crackled and burned, he chewed his lower lip, gathering his courage to speak.
“Guys … I … I have something to tell you,” he managed.
His three traveling companions looked at him. Vanariel snapped her spellbook shut and drew her staff. “What is it? An ambush? I told you guys I saw goblin-sign back there!”
“No, no! Not goblins!” Theldon said, holding his hands out. “It’s … it’s about me.”
Shiny Pete smirked. “What? You got the whore’s itch or something? Nothing to be ashamed of, buddy. Happened to us all once or twice.”
Dagmar glowered at the rogue from under bushy eyebrows. “Or mayhap a good number of times more than that.”
“No! It's not a disease either! It’s just …” Theldon took a deep breath. “Guys … I’m … I’m a doppelganger."
The three of them shared a long look, and then Vanariel and Shiny Pete burst out laughing. Dagmar’s glower deepened. “That’s no’ funny, lad,” he growled.
Vanariel and Shiny Pete stopped laughing. “Wait, wait,” the rogue said, “Dagmar, you didn’t *know?*”
Theldon looked shocked. “Wait, you guys *knew?*”
The elven woman tittered. “You’re not the shapeshifter you think you are. The real Theldon was an asshole.”
“Total dickwad,” Shiny Pete agreed. “In, like, every conceivable way.”
Dagmar leapt to his feet, drawing his axe. “You mean this is no’ a joke?” he roared, advancing on Theldon. “Die, fiend!”
As one, Vanariel and Shiny Pete placed themselves between the enraged dwarf and the doppleganger. “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Shiny Pete yelled. “This might not be the original Theldon, but he’s been with us for almost a year now. He was the guy who stood over you after you got paralyzed by a ghoul.”
“He took point when we fought that dragon,” Vanariel continued.
“Hell, he got in the face of evil sorcerer while you were busy chopping up his henchmen,” Shiny Pete added.
“Those henchmen represented a serious threat!” Dagmar retorted, “And it was no' like it was a full-grown dragon. Only a wee one!”
In unison, Valariel and Shiny Pete rolled their eyes. Dagmar glowered some more. He was good at it, and he liked to play to his strengths. At last the dwarf made a humphing noise and lowered his axe. Valariel sat down and opened her spellbook again. “Okay, that’s over right? We can get back to the adventuring?”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Pete said. Dagmar only grunted.
“Did you guys really know?” Theldon asked, still somewhat wary of the dwarf.
“Oh, yeah. I mean, it was kind of suspicious how he was dying of jungle rot one day and completely fine the next. But you’re really not much like the original Theldon at all. First of all, you’re actually useful in combat. And second of all, you’re a decent guy. I mean, I can have an ale with you and not worry that you’re going to stiff me on the check,” Pete said.
“Or stare at my tits while I’m trancing. Or grab my ass when I’m trying to brew potions,” Vanariel added. “And the ear jokes. Ugh, the original Theldon was such a creep. Why did we even keep him around?”
"Good question," Pete said. "I mean, I asked myself that a bunch of times after we got new Theldon. 'Why did we even keep that tool around in the first place?'"
“So you guys don’t even care that I’m a shapeshifter?”
“Not really, no,” Pete said. “I worked with lots of different people when I was in the Thieves’ Guild. Changelings weren’t any more likely to try killing me in my sleep than humans or half-elves. In my experience, everyone’s pretty human when you get down to it.”
“Hey! Speak for yourself, round-ears,” Vanariel said with half of a smile. “But nevertheless, I agree with the sentiment.”
“Oh,” Theldon said. He sat in own thoughts for a moment. “Thanks, guys. That means a lot to me.”
“Don’t mention it,” Pete said, and Vanariel nodded in agreement.
The evening passed in silence. Shiny Pete honed his daggers, and Vanariel memorized her spells. Dagmar and Theldon each sat in silence, alone with his thoughts.
At last the dwarf spoke. “Lad,” he asked the doppleganger, “have you ever tried maybe not being a shapeshifter?”
| John, George, and Ringo were huddled together inside a secret room on the fantastical magical yellow submarine.
"George, how confident are you?"
George left his momentary silence of contemplation to say " Paul is dead man, miss him."
Ringo asks, "do you though? I mean I doubt if you guys would miss me either."
John shook his head, "we must have lost him on our way through Abby Road"
George sighed "I like the new one. I say we let it be."
A knock on the door. "You there guys? I was hoping we'd do a music number about friendship."
John looked at the others, and they nodded in agreement. John opened the door and announced, "ALL TOGETHER NOW!" | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | Approaching the city gate, the adventurers stiffen as the guards halt their way. Of course, Mr. Nobility has to be the one to step forward and speak for the group. Marian lightly touches her bow, prepared to ready an arrow if her arrogant companion gets them into trouble again.
"Greetings, my good men. My name is Hector of the house Rellon. Do you happen to have any directions for a band of weary travelers? We seek no conflict, only a comfortable place to rest for the night."
Sora and Fiera share a look. The last time they entered a new city, he tried to march right past the guards, drawing his sword when they stopped him. They had to find accommodations in a dingy little inn outside the city gates, where the other patrons all gave the distinct impression of being criminals.
Now, though, one guard obligingly gave them directions, and Hector... Hector actually thanked him, and clapped his back like they were old friends. The guard laughed cheerfully and sent them on their way. This was wrong. Hector didn't have friends. He didn't make friends. The only reason his companions hadn't booted him was his skill in combat, which had just barely saved them from more problems than his personality had gotten them into.
That night, as Hector remained in the common room to buy another round for the crowd... an unusual act of generosity... the others gathered in the private room they'd booked.
"Do you remember earlier today, when he left to investigate that noise in the trees?" Asked Sora.
Marian nodded. "But there was nothing there."
"I know," said Sora, "But what if he lied?"
"You think he could be under someone's control?" Fiera chimed in. "I could dispel any magic that might be around him."
Sora shook his head. "I don't think it's control. He hasn't hurt us or been irrational. He's just... *different*. I think he's been replaced."
"That's pretty far-fetched." Marian's voice was skeptical.
"It's happened before," said Sora. "Not all shapeshifters are evil. Some of them just want a safe group to live among. A family. Like what we are to Hector, even though he's an asshole who doesn't deserve us."
Fiera narrowed her eyes. "How do you know so much about shapeshifters?"
Sora sighed. It was time to come clean. "Because I'm one of them. You guys didn't know the real Sora. He tried to raid my nest. Would have gotten a good part of my family killed, as well as his whole group, if I hadn't taken his place. Foolhardy bastard. His friends figured me out, though. I barely escaped, and by then I was used to this form."
"No." Fiera shook her head. "You can't just replace people. The real Hector..."
"The real Hector didn't give a toss about any of us," said Marian. "Do you really think he's worth our compassion? When was the last time he extended any to you?"
Fiera was quiet for a minute, remembering the time she'd broken a leg fighting a troll. And Hector elected to carry the troll's treasure chest out of the dungeon, leaving her to hobble after him using a giant club as a makeshift crutch. "I guess if this shapeshifter is anything like you, Sora, it's probably an improvement."
"I know I was," commented Marian. "My new parents must have known something was different, but the family got along so much better with me in her place that they never questioned it."
Fiera stood from her chair, backing toward the door. "Are you shapeshifters going to replace everybody?"
"No," said Sora and Marian simultaneously.
Sora continued. "You're a good person, Fiera. We only take the place of assholes. People whose absence would actually improve things. For everybody, not just those of us who can change our form. Trust me, Fiera." He smiled, the friendly expression that Fiera had come to find reassuring after the years they'd spent together. "You have nothing to worry about."
Edit: typo | John, George, and Ringo were huddled together inside a secret room on the fantastical magical yellow submarine.
"George, how confident are you?"
George left his momentary silence of contemplation to say " Paul is dead man, miss him."
Ringo asks, "do you though? I mean I doubt if you guys would miss me either."
John shook his head, "we must have lost him on our way through Abby Road"
George sighed "I like the new one. I say we let it be."
A knock on the door. "You there guys? I was hoping we'd do a music number about friendship."
John looked at the others, and they nodded in agreement. John opened the door and announced, "ALL TOGETHER NOW!" | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | The miles between them had come and gone, leaving scars and wounds and memories and laughs. The horizon that day was clear, and the world fell into green and yellow, and far away were the mountains, and everything was cloaked in a dream. They had come far. The first peaks of Lankar shimmered in an ephemeral haze.
"We've made it," Keldar said.
"Not yet."
Annastatia was worn, cut and bruised. Her eyes had dimmed some, but even the terrors of the Void had receded for the moment. She was in the present then, looking ahead, same as them all.
None had seen the mountain before. Alton had not believed in it. Haldar had said they would die before they ever crossed the river.
Now he stared with timeless eyes, eyes which had seen things from the Darkness. Eyes which had seen the birth of his kin from the still mirror waters of the Endless Caves. Those eyes had seen more than Haldar could ever have imagined.
"I guess it does exist," Alton said.
He clapped Haldar on the back. An uneasy feeling overcame him with the touch.
*It feels like him,* he thought.
And his thought travelled in the wind of the Void, that invisible world which held all the unknown things, the things that caused madness.
"Yes," Annastatia said.
She looked at Haldar.
"What?" said Keldar.
She shook her head.
They were weary and made camp on the hill. For the days past they had slept during the day, marched in the night. Their bodies were worn and tired, a piece of them all left behind in the Grey River.
*The price was worth it,* Keldar thought.
He was an older man, a knight in youth, and now his world had gone and he was alone but for adventure.
*Is it?*
He could not answer himself and the question lingered, unanswered by even Annastatia. They were quiet there on the hill. Midday came with a scarce lunch and perfunctory talk.
"I've never been so far," said Alton.
They agreed. Home had sunk away like the dying sun, and this endless night of the unknown still had miles yet to go.
"We're alive though," Keldar said.
"Yes," Annastatia said.
They looked at Haldar. Behind those eyes were the midnight of malice. But that malice reflected the sun, and then it was blue and immediate and true.
"I made it," Haldar said. "Barely by the skin of my leather, but I made it."
In the Grey River there were ancient cliffs, hills and holes. There amidst that pocked earth lived the unknown things, the things which embraced the Darkness.
In that place Haldar had fallen into the murky waters of the Grey River and its currents had taken him.
His screams had pierced the Void then, echoing even on the hill they now camped on. Annastatia winced and she saw the time as it floated past in the forever winds of that realm.
"Help!" Haldar cried.
Her hand held her staff. Every inch of her was prepared to hold it for him to grab on to. She saw it happening, feeling his weight and the rescue. And yet she hesitated.
"Help!"
She had remembered the times before. His hand caressing hers, teasing some unwanted strength, threatening in the vaguest of ways. And even then his thoughts were certain of his foul desire.
And so the river had taken him and they all had watched. They had let it happen as the waters surrounded him in an opaque cover, the burial of some unwanted pest, and they feigned the mourning as all good friends should do.
Then they were three.
But he had come back. The first trees were tall and skinny and gave little shade. Their slanting shadows were bars as they passed, looking like prisoners in a dream world, and then from that shifting prison, Haldar had come, wet and worn. The Grey River had taken much from him, he said, and he was different, completely different.
"I left more of my soul there than you," he said.
They looked at him and knew what he was, or what he wasn't. That night they discussed it in secret, and decided they would bide time before doing what must be done.
Three days had passed since then, but that time still had not come.
Sleep overcame them and they rested awhile. The falling sun awoke them to a red and orange sky and their shadows spilled past the hill.
"Statia," Alton said.
He was stretching.
"Yes?"
"I've had a bad dream. Worse than any of the others before."
"Was it of your past? The stealing in your mother's house?"
"No. No it was..."
She saw his face. She touched his head and the after images of the fading dream kindled within her.
Haldar stared beneath a blackened sky, alone and afraid. All around a great water rushed him, surrounding him with its endless sound.
The dream faded and she recoiled.
"I... I have no remedy," she said.
She looked at Haldar. The thing which pretended to be him looked at her and smiled. Though shifters like him were not connected as strongly to the Void, she could feel his thoughts in the air, like some distant food that has long been eaten.
*He means me no malice. Not like his...*
Victim. But she could not say the word.
Keldar walked to Haldar and put his hand on his shoulder.
"How is your wound?"
"Better now," Haldar said.
*He feels the same*, Keldar thought. *He really does.*
Then they packed their things and prepared for another night of walking. Lankar glittered in the night like some crystal, and yet soft as home's bed sheets on a cold night.
"What's there again?" Haldar asked.
He looked at them to see if any suspected. He thought they did. He thought he should kill them, but living in the black had not tainted his heart.
*Never have I seen such beauty as her.*
And in the moonlight Annastatia was some Queen, the kind of which no longer walks this world. Some distant being, ghost-like and tender, and yet strong and hardy with eyes opened into the real world.
*But she is Keldar's.*
And he felt sad. He felt the light on him and looked up.
*I should kill them and have her to myself.*
But she would die first before such things could happen. She would kill him then surely. They already considered the deed. He closed his eyes. The light painted him with a warmth the others could not feel.
*They have not lived in the dark,* he thought. *They are human. Weak and ignorant of the Dark, for they know not of such things.*
"Lankar," Alton said. "The mountain of Dreams. There, as legend goes, is the Spring of Dreaming. One sip of its water will change you. It will make whatever is in your heart come true."
"It can change the world physically?"
"No," said Annastatia. "But it will change *you*. It will change the spirit so that what you hold dearest will come true in a way of its own. It is not a place of wishes."
"It is like the Grey River then?" Haldar asked.
"Yes, in a sense. But it does not take. It gives and cleanses."
Then they were quiet. In their hearts they were uneasy. Haldar's death weighed immensely on them.
*The Spring will clean me,* Keldar thought.
Annastatia held him. Her face was pretty in the white light and he looked at her and loved her anew once more. He put his arm around her.
*I am an evil man,* he thought.
She looked at him with those sad eyes of hers.
*If that be true, then so are we all my love.*
He squeezed her hand.
*What hope is there then? This guilt weighs too heavy on me.*
*The Spring, as you've thought. The Spring is our only hope. Haldar was a fool. The River took him of its own choosing. His heart was black, blacker than this imposter.*
"I like you," Alton said to Haldar. "I don't know if you understand, but I'll be truthful. I like you."
And Haldar, the thing, understood as much. It too had thoughts that raged in an incomprehensible storm.
"I like you too," he said. "All of you."
"Then may the Spring save us," Keldar said.
And they marched in silence as the night slowly passed.
-
*Hi there! If you liked this story, please consider my subreddit r/PanMan. It has all my WP stories as well as some original ones. I'm slowly working on it and getting it to look nicer, so I promise it will look better soon. Thank you!* | John, George, and Ringo were huddled together inside a secret room on the fantastical magical yellow submarine.
"George, how confident are you?"
George left his momentary silence of contemplation to say " Paul is dead man, miss him."
Ringo asks, "do you though? I mean I doubt if you guys would miss me either."
John shook his head, "we must have lost him on our way through Abby Road"
George sighed "I like the new one. I say we let it be."
A knock on the door. "You there guys? I was hoping we'd do a music number about friendship."
John looked at the others, and they nodded in agreement. John opened the door and announced, "ALL TOGETHER NOW!" | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | "That was..." Brawg began, staggering over the bodies of the fallen goblins, his boots squelching in the treacle-like blood.
"Far too..." said Vesperr, returning her bow to her back, and beginning to pluck out arrows from the deceased enemies.
"Oxyrin!" finished Oxyrin, his pointed hat falling over his eyes once again. Dribble oozed down from his mouth and his pupils spun this way and that, as if two compasses confused by magnets.
Brawg and Vesperr looked at each other for a moment, then burst out laughing. Brawg brought a thunderous hand down on the wizard's back. "Don't ever change, Oxyrin!" he said.
"Oh, Oxyrin," grinned Vesperr, "you're the reason we do this, you know? For that smile on your face." She wiped away a the spittle from his lips, then shook her finger, sending the spit plopping onto the ground.
"Oxyrin!" Oxyrin repeated. A pointed tongue darted out of his mouth and latched onto a fly that was hovering over a brutalised body below.
"I'm going to pretend I didn't just see that," said Brawg with a wink. "Okay gang, I'd say we're all done here. I believe its time to go collect our reward."
"Not so fast, my friends," came a mysterious voice from behind them. Only, when they turned, there was *nothing* behind them.
Slowly, the blue-robed wizard hazed into existence. "It is I, the *real* Oxyrin! I have been trapped for the longest time, but I have finally outsmarted my captors and have returned to my friends. For no one is as clever as the Great Oxyrin!"
Brawg and Vesperr glanced at each other, then let out a joint gasp.
"Quite you might gasp," said Oxyrin, as he turned and pointed an accusing finger at the other blue wizard, who was now on all fours chasing after a spider. "For that fellow, has fooled you, my dear friends. But he is nothing more than an impostor! A Doppelganger! A fake, a fraud, and dare I say it, a phoney."
Brawg nudged Vesperr and they both gasped again.
"How.. erm, how can we believe you?" asked Vesperr, her top lip wet with nervous sweat. "How do we know he--"she pointed to the to the wizard, who was now chewing on something--"isn't the real Oxyrin. After all, he would have had to fool us both for two entire years."
Oxyrin rolled his eyes. "Hardly a challenging task. You two never were the"--his hands burst into blue flames--"brightest sparks. Ha. Hahaha."
Brawg's muscles tensed. Vesperr put a hand against his chest.
"That's not proof enough. For our Oxyrin can also do such petty parlour tricks."
"Very well," Oxyrin sighed, "I shall prove it. We shall have a wizard-off."
"Smart," said Vesperr. She let out a high pitched whistle, at which the other Oxyrin came bounding over to her.
"Oxyrin!" he sputtered as he arrived.
"Is that all he can say? How could you *possibly* believe he was me?"
"Good point," said Brawg. "His vocabulary is much larger."
"Oh. You made a joke. How very amusing."
"Okay," said Vesperr. "Round one of the wizard-off. *Shape-shifting.*"
"What? What a stupid round," complained Oxyrin, "for sniffing out a shape-shifter!" His face was red and a vein popped out of his forehead, pulsating like waves on the ocean. "Unbelievable idiocy. How you have possibly survived this long without me to guide you -- heaven only knows!"
"Oxyrin!" replied the other Oxyrin.
"Well, if you can't do it and he can..." said Brawg shrugging, "then I guess we know who the real wizard is."
"Oh... *pish!* Very well. And what must we change into, pray tell?"
"Something very small. To really challenge your morphitisation skills. A fly. Simple. First one to transform into a fly wins."
"Sala kazoo, Sala kazam!" shouted Oxyrin. There was a puff of smoke that left Vesperr and Brawg coughing. As it cleared, and only for the briefest moment, they saw a fly. Then, they saw a huge, pointed tongue. Finally, they saw an Oxyrin chewing on and then swallowing *something*.
"Oxyrin!" he shouted triumphantly, as Brawg and Vesperr collapsed into a fit of laughter.
"Oh Oxyrin," said Brawg, slapping him on the back "you really are too much."
"And," said Vesperr, "we wouldn't have it any other way!"
| John, George, and Ringo were huddled together inside a secret room on the fantastical magical yellow submarine.
"George, how confident are you?"
George left his momentary silence of contemplation to say " Paul is dead man, miss him."
Ringo asks, "do you though? I mean I doubt if you guys would miss me either."
John shook his head, "we must have lost him on our way through Abby Road"
George sighed "I like the new one. I say we let it be."
A knock on the door. "You there guys? I was hoping we'd do a music number about friendship."
John looked at the others, and they nodded in agreement. John opened the door and announced, "ALL TOGETHER NOW!" | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | "A fine...mead?!" Rorik shouts over the din of the tavern. His companions smile and nod along with him as he sings some old barbarian tune.
Sings it wrong. They don't tell him that though.
Delia, the group's cleric leans over to their mage.
"Do you think he knows?"
Melvar just shakes his head and holds out a palm towards their massive friend. Friend as of lately, of course. Rorik was a massive pain for the group long before the shifter stole his face.
"He definitely doesn't but...I think I like him. Rorik was a bit of a jerk, always running off into the dungeons with that stupid battlecry. Remember when we went into the Crypt of Alohar, how many good people did he get killed?"
"Yeah...he's kinda cute now. Like a child or something."
They both watch Rorik move around the tavern with his mug and talk to other groups of adventurers. He's loud but not overbearing. He listens to the stories of others instead of telling his own. He drinks but not to excess. He is nothing like the barbarian they all had come to know and...
Melvar doesn't quite finish the thought.
"You know what Del, I like him. I know he's a shifter but look at everyone. We all know and he's trying so hard to be like Rorik but he just can't. I don't think there's a mean bone in that thing's body. You know that he hasn't made fun of my beard once, not in months."
She snorts. The young mage was trying so hard to grow it out and he'd been self-conscious about it for months.
A warrior passing by their table to his own party leans over and whispers it to the pair.
"You should keep him. He's an improvement."
"Friends!" Rorik shouts, sitting again at their table, "What fun! And we do this between every adventure? And people give us gold to go on those adventures? To spend here? Amazing!"
He is off again before they can even respond.
"Do you think The Dwarf knows?" Melvar watches Rorik join another random group of adventures and sing yet another song. Still wrong.
Delia shrugs.
"I don't know and I don't care. We're gonna keep him. He's like a dog or something. But useful."
Melvar strokes his "beard" for a moment.
"Alright, we'll keep him. But I swear if he ever makes fun of my beard-"
"What? You'll strangle him with one of your wisps? You should really shave, you're looking more like a magical hobo than a wizard. 'I cast: smell of unwashedness!'"
As she walks away laughing at her own joke Melvar narrows his eyes. He lifts his mug and mutters something into it before drinking.
"I'll replace you too if I have to..." | John, George, and Ringo were huddled together inside a secret room on the fantastical magical yellow submarine.
"George, how confident are you?"
George left his momentary silence of contemplation to say " Paul is dead man, miss him."
Ringo asks, "do you though? I mean I doubt if you guys would miss me either."
John shook his head, "we must have lost him on our way through Abby Road"
George sighed "I like the new one. I say we let it be."
A knock on the door. "You there guys? I was hoping we'd do a music number about friendship."
John looked at the others, and they nodded in agreement. John opened the door and announced, "ALL TOGETHER NOW!" | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | John, George, and Ringo were huddled together inside a secret room on the fantastical magical yellow submarine.
"George, how confident are you?"
George left his momentary silence of contemplation to say " Paul is dead man, miss him."
Ringo asks, "do you though? I mean I doubt if you guys would miss me either."
John shook his head, "we must have lost him on our way through Abby Road"
George sighed "I like the new one. I say we let it be."
A knock on the door. "You there guys? I was hoping we'd do a music number about friendship."
John looked at the others, and they nodded in agreement. John opened the door and announced, "ALL TOGETHER NOW!" | The tavern was alight with candles and warm fires, the smell of meats and bread wafted through to the rafters of wood and plaster. Ale stained the floor in places and the barkeep had been working on a single mug for a startling amount of time. All and all a lively place to be on this evening.
"Ah and a fine night to you as well gentlemen! Merry blessings!" The rogue said, as the men who joined him for cards departed a few coins heavier then they were at start.
"Is this not grand fellows?" The elf turned to his crew. "Ale in the air! A tavern filled with beautiful women! And my closest friend in the world." He stood then, a leg up on the top of the table, his back leg supporting him from the ground
"Ladies! Gentlemen!" He yelled, "Tonight, join me in toast to this merry band of fighters, lovers and the heroes of this town tonight! We are all thankful," he stopped to smile at his friends, the ale tinting his checks red "but I am thankful, for they are the truest of my friends" and with that he drank. The here-heres rose in strength from the crowd, and he was jostled away by the crowd with promises to be back later.
The dwarf, gnome and orc all sat in silence, looking at their drinks solemnly.
The dwarf sighed, pinching the top of his nose,
The orc had his hand in his head looking off into nothingness,
Finally the gnome chimed in, quietly, but with a resolute tone
"Okay, I'll say it. He's a much better companion then Roderick and we should do everything in our earthly powers not to mess this up."
The orc and dwarf both sighed in unanimous relief
The orc chimed in first with a hushed tone and feeling in his voice "Its like he knew what a whoreson Roderick was!" He said, sitting at attention once again " its like he knew and said to himself 'oh! These chaps look like they could use a new, better companion!' Then took it upon himself, through all the peril, to join us in disguise! All while throwing Roderick into god knows where!" He laughed. "The monster was OUR hero!"
The dwarf was next, wide eyed and hands extended to point out "Roderick" in the crowd. " look at that bloody rogue, he blends right in, they would never know they're holding possibly one of the most dangerous monsters in the land" he lowered his hands, then pointed out, " for all that, doesn't that also make him a better rogue?" They all agreed quietly.
The orc chimed in once more, tentatively, " look Roderick is a whoreson who would and almost did murder us for a small some of coin, twice." They all agreed muttering comments under their breath, " but were the you know...good guys... shouldn't we at least try to save him?"
The others were about to reluctantly agree when "Roderick" appeared before them once again
"My friends! this is as much your victory as mine! More so! Come join us, the mayor seems keen on raising our rewards! I thought it only fitting you be by my... Nay, I be by your sides during this!" He smiled warmly.
They looked at each other, shrugged and smiled
"No that's fine, we can be knaves for a night." The gnome said, stepping up from his seat. | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | The tavern was alight with candles and warm fires, the smell of meats and bread wafted through to the rafters of wood and plaster. Ale stained the floor in places and the barkeep had been working on a single mug for a startling amount of time. All and all a lively place to be on this evening.
"Ah and a fine night to you as well gentlemen! Merry blessings!" The rogue said, as the men who joined him for cards departed a few coins heavier then they were at start.
"Is this not grand fellows?" The elf turned to his crew. "Ale in the air! A tavern filled with beautiful women! And my closest friends in the world." He stood then, a leg up on the top of the table, his back leg supporting him from the ground
"Ladies! Gentlemen!" He yelled, "Tonight, join me in toast to this merry band of fighters, lovers and the heroes of this town! We are all thankful," he stopped to smile at his friends, the ale tinting his checks red "but I am thankful, for they are the truest of my friends" and with that he drank. The here-heres rose in strength from the crowd, and he was jostled away by the crowd with promises to be back later.
The dwarf, gnome and orc all sat in silence, looking at their drinks solemnly.
The dwarf sighed, pinching the top of his nose,
The orc had his head in his hands looking off into nothingness,
Finally the gnome chimed in, quietly, but with a resolute tone
"Okay, I'll say it. He's a much better companion then Roderick and we should do everything in our earthly powers not to mess this up."
The orc and dwarf both sighed in unanimous relief
The orc chimed in first with a hushed tone and feeling in his voice "Its like he knew what a whoreson Roderick was!" He said, sitting at attention once again " its like he knew and said to himself 'oh! These chaps look like they could use a new, better companion!' Then took it upon himself, through all the peril, to join us in disguise! All while throwing Roderick into god knows where!" He laughed. "The monster was OUR hero!"
The dwarf was next, wide eyed and hands extended to point out "Roderick" in the crowd. " look at that bloody rogue, he blends right in, they would never know they're holding possibly one of the most dangerous monsters in the land" he lowered his hands, then pointed out, " for all that, doesn't that also make him a better rogue?" They all agreed quietly.
The orc chimed in once more, tentatively, " look Roderick is a whoreson who would and almost did murder us for a small some of coin, twice." They all agreed muttering comments under their breath, " but were the you know...good guys... shouldn't we at least try to save him?"
The others were about to reluctantly agree when "Roderick" appeared before them once again
"My friends! this is as much your victory as mine! More so! Come join us, the mayor seems keen on raising our rewards! I thought it only fitting you be by my... Nay, I be by your sides during this!" He smiled warmly.
They looked at each other, shrugged and smiled
"No that's fine, we can be knaves for a night." The gnome said, stepping up from his seat. | The tavern was alight with candles and warm fires, the smell of meats and bread wafted through to the rafters of wood and plaster. Ale stained the floor in places and the barkeep had been working on a single mug for a startling amount of time. All and all a lively place to be on this evening.
"Ah and a fine night to you as well gentlemen! Merry blessings!" The rogue said, as the men who joined him for cards departed a few coins heavier then they were at start.
"Is this not grand fellows?" The elf turned to his crew. "Ale in the air! A tavern filled with beautiful women! And my closest friend in the world." He stood then, a leg up on the top of the table, his back leg supporting him from the ground
"Ladies! Gentlemen!" He yelled, "Tonight, join me in toast to this merry band of fighters, lovers and the heroes of this town tonight! We are all thankful," he stopped to smile at his friends, the ale tinting his checks red "but I am thankful, for they are the truest of my friends" and with that he drank. The here-heres rose in strength from the crowd, and he was jostled away by the crowd with promises to be back later.
The dwarf, gnome and orc all sat in silence, looking at their drinks solemnly.
The dwarf sighed, pinching the top of his nose,
The orc had his hand in his head looking off into nothingness,
Finally the gnome chimed in, quietly, but with a resolute tone
"Okay, I'll say it. He's a much better companion then Roderick and we should do everything in our earthly powers not to mess this up."
The orc and dwarf both sighed in unanimous relief
The orc chimed in first with a hushed tone and feeling in his voice "Its like he knew what a whoreson Roderick was!" He said, sitting at attention once again " its like he knew and said to himself 'oh! These chaps look like they could use a new, better companion!' Then took it upon himself, through all the peril, to join us in disguise! All while throwing Roderick into god knows where!" He laughed. "The monster was OUR hero!"
The dwarf was next, wide eyed and hands extended to point out "Roderick" in the crowd. " look at that bloody rogue, he blends right in, they would never know they're holding possibly one of the most dangerous monsters in the land" he lowered his hands, then pointed out, " for all that, doesn't that also make him a better rogue?" They all agreed quietly.
The orc chimed in once more, tentatively, " look Roderick is a whoreson who would and almost did murder us for a small some of coin, twice." They all agreed muttering comments under their breath, " but were the you know...good guys... shouldn't we at least try to save him?"
The others were about to reluctantly agree when "Roderick" appeared before them once again
"My friends! this is as much your victory as mine! More so! Come join us, the mayor seems keen on raising our rewards! I thought it only fitting you be by my... Nay, I be by your sides during this!" He smiled warmly.
They looked at each other, shrugged and smiled
"No that's fine, we can be knaves for a night." The gnome said, stepping up from his seat. | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | "Guys, I think those holes might be for arrows or something. We had better check if this hallway is trapped!" warned Danny.
The party stopped, and Julie, an experienced rogue, did a check for traps. Sure enough, she found one, though curiously it was already disarmed.
Veronica explained, "It looks like someone has already blocked the mechanism with a rock. It should be safe to head down the passageway."
"Wait, before we go on, I need a quick break to use the loo." Danny looked abashed.
That brought some sighs from the group. "Couldn't you have done that a few minutes ago, before we entered the dungeon?" asked Veronica.
"Sorry everyone," replied Danny, "I drank too much water earlier." And off he went in search of some relief.
With Danny gone, the party had a moment to talk to themselves.
"He's really been such a better husband and father since....", Veronica trailed off.
"Yes, we've noticed lots of positive changes," replied Jim.
"He's making so much more time for the children. He's being so much more responsible in every way."
"You yourself seem happier these days", remarked Julie. "Have you decided to let on that you know?"
"No, I'm worried it...he... might decide to stop pretending. Our love-life has gotten incredible, and he is so much more into the role playing aspects I enjoy." For a moment her conflicting emotions filled her face. "He is my husband, even if he isn't the man I married anymore."
"We're here for you. We'll keep it quiet." Julie gave her hand a squeeze. "Oh, I think he's coming back."
Danny walked in, and rejoined the party. "Lets go kick some goblin butt!" He picked up the dice, and turned and look at his wife with a smile. "Ok DM, what do you think I need to roll to get a pizza delivered while we finish our game?" | The tavern was alight with candles and warm fires, the smell of meats and bread wafted through to the rafters of wood and plaster. Ale stained the floor in places and the barkeep had been working on a single mug for a startling amount of time. All and all a lively place to be on this evening.
"Ah and a fine night to you as well gentlemen! Merry blessings!" The rogue said, as the men who joined him for cards departed a few coins heavier then they were at start.
"Is this not grand fellows?" The elf turned to his crew. "Ale in the air! A tavern filled with beautiful women! And my closest friend in the world." He stood then, a leg up on the top of the table, his back leg supporting him from the ground
"Ladies! Gentlemen!" He yelled, "Tonight, join me in toast to this merry band of fighters, lovers and the heroes of this town tonight! We are all thankful," he stopped to smile at his friends, the ale tinting his checks red "but I am thankful, for they are the truest of my friends" and with that he drank. The here-heres rose in strength from the crowd, and he was jostled away by the crowd with promises to be back later.
The dwarf, gnome and orc all sat in silence, looking at their drinks solemnly.
The dwarf sighed, pinching the top of his nose,
The orc had his hand in his head looking off into nothingness,
Finally the gnome chimed in, quietly, but with a resolute tone
"Okay, I'll say it. He's a much better companion then Roderick and we should do everything in our earthly powers not to mess this up."
The orc and dwarf both sighed in unanimous relief
The orc chimed in first with a hushed tone and feeling in his voice "Its like he knew what a whoreson Roderick was!" He said, sitting at attention once again " its like he knew and said to himself 'oh! These chaps look like they could use a new, better companion!' Then took it upon himself, through all the peril, to join us in disguise! All while throwing Roderick into god knows where!" He laughed. "The monster was OUR hero!"
The dwarf was next, wide eyed and hands extended to point out "Roderick" in the crowd. " look at that bloody rogue, he blends right in, they would never know they're holding possibly one of the most dangerous monsters in the land" he lowered his hands, then pointed out, " for all that, doesn't that also make him a better rogue?" They all agreed quietly.
The orc chimed in once more, tentatively, " look Roderick is a whoreson who would and almost did murder us for a small some of coin, twice." They all agreed muttering comments under their breath, " but were the you know...good guys... shouldn't we at least try to save him?"
The others were about to reluctantly agree when "Roderick" appeared before them once again
"My friends! this is as much your victory as mine! More so! Come join us, the mayor seems keen on raising our rewards! I thought it only fitting you be by my... Nay, I be by your sides during this!" He smiled warmly.
They looked at each other, shrugged and smiled
"No that's fine, we can be knaves for a night." The gnome said, stepping up from his seat. | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | "GREETINGS FELLOW ADVENTURING HUMANS!" Boomed the voice of Danny the Elf sat bolt upright from the sleeping cloth sack she had been in, causing Bob the Barbarian to grunt and curl up under his animal hide sleeping rug again.
"IT IS I, YOUR GOOD FRIEND DAN, I AM UNHARMED AFTER MY ENCOUNTER WITH THE DAEMON!" She continued smiling oddly, her mouth breaking into a wide grin with teeth and her eyebrows actually elevating.
"Dann...." Feldspar the half-elf warlock managed to stop himself from saying Danny, "You told us this before, remember?"
Danny the Elf blinked, everything was always so terribly confusing, having come from a dimension that didn't have time it had to learn about things happening and things that had happened, Makor the Cleric had helped with that, teaching the snow elf about how things happen and can't be changed but things that haven't happened yet can be altered.
"OH YES FRIEND!" Danny laughed as if it was a running joke, Sim the halfling thief/bard laughed a little as well in sympathy or perhaps enjoyment.
"WHERE ARE WE GOING TODAY? WILL THERE BE MORE EXCELLENT FERMENTED YEAST PRODUCTS TO CONSUME?"
Makor nodded slowly, "That's right Dan, more beer at the end of the adventure, now how did we get back the entrance avoiding the dragon, getting the treasure and nobody getting hurt?"
"OF COURSE FRIEND! THIS IS A THING THAT HAPPENED ALREADY AFTER ALL!" Danny confirmed with the group as each of them nodded in agreement pressing in to listen carefully to Danny.
"FIRSTLY, WE LEFT THE ROOM BY THE SOUTH ENTRANCE, SIM DISABLED THE PIT TRAP AFTER FALLING INTO IT AND DYING THE FIRST TIME HE TRIED." Danny started to explain.
Sim frowned a little looking towards the South entrance, he'd died; again, if 'Dan' hadn't told him about the pit trap or the acid or the undercooked chicken or ... he was incredibly glad that 'Dan' had changed so dramatically since that encounter with the demon.
"THE TREASURE IS MOSTLY CURSED AND FELDSPAR CHANGED INTO A SHEEP WHEN HE PICKED UP A STAFF THEN A STATUE AS HE TOUCHED THE CURSED DIAMOND AS LARGE AS HIS FIST AND THEN WAS KILLED AS HE PICKED UP A CROWN." Danny continued as Feldspar took careful notes, the warlock couldn't remember the last time he'd bothered to cast identification or detect item status.
Feldspar liked whatever was living inside Danny, even when the party wasn't using it as a cheap way to complete adventures the Elf was nicer, kinder and fun to listen to, with her soft voice always shouting it was hard not to giggle at her.
"THEN AS WE LEAVE THE REAL MAKOR ATTACKS THE FAKE ONE CURRENTLY TRAVELLING WITH US AND IS EASILY DEFEATED." Danny concluded smiling proudly.
Makor looked around the group as for a moment he was sure that his plan had been ruined, they must know, it was just said aloud.
Sim however was fiddling with his lock picks, clearly fully distracted, Feldspar was already in a meditative trance memorising spells.
Bob smiled widely at Makor and Danny before speaking in his native tongue, "What did she say then? Sounded like bad news for you, Feldspar and Sim..."
Makor nodded with a rush of relief as Bob wondered how many more times he could possibly pass that particular lie your face off check. | The tavern was alight with candles and warm fires, the smell of meats and bread wafted through to the rafters of wood and plaster. Ale stained the floor in places and the barkeep had been working on a single mug for a startling amount of time. All and all a lively place to be on this evening.
"Ah and a fine night to you as well gentlemen! Merry blessings!" The rogue said, as the men who joined him for cards departed a few coins heavier then they were at start.
"Is this not grand fellows?" The elf turned to his crew. "Ale in the air! A tavern filled with beautiful women! And my closest friend in the world." He stood then, a leg up on the top of the table, his back leg supporting him from the ground
"Ladies! Gentlemen!" He yelled, "Tonight, join me in toast to this merry band of fighters, lovers and the heroes of this town tonight! We are all thankful," he stopped to smile at his friends, the ale tinting his checks red "but I am thankful, for they are the truest of my friends" and with that he drank. The here-heres rose in strength from the crowd, and he was jostled away by the crowd with promises to be back later.
The dwarf, gnome and orc all sat in silence, looking at their drinks solemnly.
The dwarf sighed, pinching the top of his nose,
The orc had his hand in his head looking off into nothingness,
Finally the gnome chimed in, quietly, but with a resolute tone
"Okay, I'll say it. He's a much better companion then Roderick and we should do everything in our earthly powers not to mess this up."
The orc and dwarf both sighed in unanimous relief
The orc chimed in first with a hushed tone and feeling in his voice "Its like he knew what a whoreson Roderick was!" He said, sitting at attention once again " its like he knew and said to himself 'oh! These chaps look like they could use a new, better companion!' Then took it upon himself, through all the peril, to join us in disguise! All while throwing Roderick into god knows where!" He laughed. "The monster was OUR hero!"
The dwarf was next, wide eyed and hands extended to point out "Roderick" in the crowd. " look at that bloody rogue, he blends right in, they would never know they're holding possibly one of the most dangerous monsters in the land" he lowered his hands, then pointed out, " for all that, doesn't that also make him a better rogue?" They all agreed quietly.
The orc chimed in once more, tentatively, " look Roderick is a whoreson who would and almost did murder us for a small some of coin, twice." They all agreed muttering comments under their breath, " but were the you know...good guys... shouldn't we at least try to save him?"
The others were about to reluctantly agree when "Roderick" appeared before them once again
"My friends! this is as much your victory as mine! More so! Come join us, the mayor seems keen on raising our rewards! I thought it only fitting you be by my... Nay, I be by your sides during this!" He smiled warmly.
They looked at each other, shrugged and smiled
"No that's fine, we can be knaves for a night." The gnome said, stepping up from his seat. | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | Theldon – or at least the creature that was wearing his face – looked pale in the light of the campfire. As the wood crackled and burned, he chewed his lower lip, gathering his courage to speak.
“Guys … I … I have something to tell you,” he managed.
His three traveling companions looked at him. Vanariel snapped her spellbook shut and drew her staff. “What is it? An ambush? I told you guys I saw goblin-sign back there!”
“No, no! Not goblins!” Theldon said, holding his hands out. “It’s … it’s about me.”
Shiny Pete smirked. “What? You got the whore’s itch or something? Nothing to be ashamed of, buddy. Happened to us all once or twice.”
Dagmar glowered at the rogue from under bushy eyebrows. “Or mayhap a good number of times more than that.”
“No! It's not a disease either! It’s just …” Theldon took a deep breath. “Guys … I’m … I’m a doppelganger."
The three of them shared a long look, and then Vanariel and Shiny Pete burst out laughing. Dagmar’s glower deepened. “That’s no’ funny, lad,” he growled.
Vanariel and Shiny Pete stopped laughing. “Wait, wait,” the rogue said, “Dagmar, you didn’t *know?*”
Theldon looked shocked. “Wait, you guys *knew?*”
The elven woman tittered. “You’re not the shapeshifter you think you are. The real Theldon was an asshole.”
“Total dickwad,” Shiny Pete agreed. “In, like, every conceivable way.”
Dagmar leapt to his feet, drawing his axe. “You mean this is no’ a joke?” he roared, advancing on Theldon. “Die, fiend!”
As one, Vanariel and Shiny Pete placed themselves between the enraged dwarf and the doppleganger. “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Shiny Pete yelled. “This might not be the original Theldon, but he’s been with us for almost a year now. He was the guy who stood over you after you got paralyzed by a ghoul.”
“He took point when we fought that dragon,” Vanariel continued.
“Hell, he got in the face of evil sorcerer while you were busy chopping up his henchmen,” Shiny Pete added.
“Those henchmen represented a serious threat!” Dagmar retorted, “And it was no' like it was a full-grown dragon. Only a wee one!”
In unison, Valariel and Shiny Pete rolled their eyes. Dagmar glowered some more. He was good at it, and he liked to play to his strengths. At last the dwarf made a humphing noise and lowered his axe. Valariel sat down and opened her spellbook again. “Okay, that’s over right? We can get back to the adventuring?”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Pete said. Dagmar only grunted.
“Did you guys really know?” Theldon asked, still somewhat wary of the dwarf.
“Oh, yeah. I mean, it was kind of suspicious how he was dying of jungle rot one day and completely fine the next. But you’re really not much like the original Theldon at all. First of all, you’re actually useful in combat. And second of all, you’re a decent guy. I mean, I can have an ale with you and not worry that you’re going to stiff me on the check,” Pete said.
“Or stare at my tits while I’m trancing. Or grab my ass when I’m trying to brew potions,” Vanariel added. “And the ear jokes. Ugh, the original Theldon was such a creep. Why did we even keep him around?”
"Good question," Pete said. "I mean, I asked myself that a bunch of times after we got new Theldon. 'Why did we even keep that tool around in the first place?'"
“So you guys don’t even care that I’m a shapeshifter?”
“Not really, no,” Pete said. “I worked with lots of different people when I was in the Thieves’ Guild. Changelings weren’t any more likely to try killing me in my sleep than humans or half-elves. In my experience, everyone’s pretty human when you get down to it.”
“Hey! Speak for yourself, round-ears,” Vanariel said with half of a smile. “But nevertheless, I agree with the sentiment.”
“Oh,” Theldon said. He sat in own thoughts for a moment. “Thanks, guys. That means a lot to me.”
“Don’t mention it,” Pete said, and Vanariel nodded in agreement.
The evening passed in silence. Shiny Pete honed his daggers, and Vanariel memorized her spells. Dagmar and Theldon each sat in silence, alone with his thoughts.
At last the dwarf spoke. “Lad,” he asked the doppleganger, “have you ever tried maybe not being a shapeshifter?”
| The tavern was alight with candles and warm fires, the smell of meats and bread wafted through to the rafters of wood and plaster. Ale stained the floor in places and the barkeep had been working on a single mug for a startling amount of time. All and all a lively place to be on this evening.
"Ah and a fine night to you as well gentlemen! Merry blessings!" The rogue said, as the men who joined him for cards departed a few coins heavier then they were at start.
"Is this not grand fellows?" The elf turned to his crew. "Ale in the air! A tavern filled with beautiful women! And my closest friend in the world." He stood then, a leg up on the top of the table, his back leg supporting him from the ground
"Ladies! Gentlemen!" He yelled, "Tonight, join me in toast to this merry band of fighters, lovers and the heroes of this town tonight! We are all thankful," he stopped to smile at his friends, the ale tinting his checks red "but I am thankful, for they are the truest of my friends" and with that he drank. The here-heres rose in strength from the crowd, and he was jostled away by the crowd with promises to be back later.
The dwarf, gnome and orc all sat in silence, looking at their drinks solemnly.
The dwarf sighed, pinching the top of his nose,
The orc had his hand in his head looking off into nothingness,
Finally the gnome chimed in, quietly, but with a resolute tone
"Okay, I'll say it. He's a much better companion then Roderick and we should do everything in our earthly powers not to mess this up."
The orc and dwarf both sighed in unanimous relief
The orc chimed in first with a hushed tone and feeling in his voice "Its like he knew what a whoreson Roderick was!" He said, sitting at attention once again " its like he knew and said to himself 'oh! These chaps look like they could use a new, better companion!' Then took it upon himself, through all the peril, to join us in disguise! All while throwing Roderick into god knows where!" He laughed. "The monster was OUR hero!"
The dwarf was next, wide eyed and hands extended to point out "Roderick" in the crowd. " look at that bloody rogue, he blends right in, they would never know they're holding possibly one of the most dangerous monsters in the land" he lowered his hands, then pointed out, " for all that, doesn't that also make him a better rogue?" They all agreed quietly.
The orc chimed in once more, tentatively, " look Roderick is a whoreson who would and almost did murder us for a small some of coin, twice." They all agreed muttering comments under their breath, " but were the you know...good guys... shouldn't we at least try to save him?"
The others were about to reluctantly agree when "Roderick" appeared before them once again
"My friends! this is as much your victory as mine! More so! Come join us, the mayor seems keen on raising our rewards! I thought it only fitting you be by my... Nay, I be by your sides during this!" He smiled warmly.
They looked at each other, shrugged and smiled
"No that's fine, we can be knaves for a night." The gnome said, stepping up from his seat. | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | Approaching the city gate, the adventurers stiffen as the guards halt their way. Of course, Mr. Nobility has to be the one to step forward and speak for the group. Marian lightly touches her bow, prepared to ready an arrow if her arrogant companion gets them into trouble again.
"Greetings, my good men. My name is Hector of the house Rellon. Do you happen to have any directions for a band of weary travelers? We seek no conflict, only a comfortable place to rest for the night."
Sora and Fiera share a look. The last time they entered a new city, he tried to march right past the guards, drawing his sword when they stopped him. They had to find accommodations in a dingy little inn outside the city gates, where the other patrons all gave the distinct impression of being criminals.
Now, though, one guard obligingly gave them directions, and Hector... Hector actually thanked him, and clapped his back like they were old friends. The guard laughed cheerfully and sent them on their way. This was wrong. Hector didn't have friends. He didn't make friends. The only reason his companions hadn't booted him was his skill in combat, which had just barely saved them from more problems than his personality had gotten them into.
That night, as Hector remained in the common room to buy another round for the crowd... an unusual act of generosity... the others gathered in the private room they'd booked.
"Do you remember earlier today, when he left to investigate that noise in the trees?" Asked Sora.
Marian nodded. "But there was nothing there."
"I know," said Sora, "But what if he lied?"
"You think he could be under someone's control?" Fiera chimed in. "I could dispel any magic that might be around him."
Sora shook his head. "I don't think it's control. He hasn't hurt us or been irrational. He's just... *different*. I think he's been replaced."
"That's pretty far-fetched." Marian's voice was skeptical.
"It's happened before," said Sora. "Not all shapeshifters are evil. Some of them just want a safe group to live among. A family. Like what we are to Hector, even though he's an asshole who doesn't deserve us."
Fiera narrowed her eyes. "How do you know so much about shapeshifters?"
Sora sighed. It was time to come clean. "Because I'm one of them. You guys didn't know the real Sora. He tried to raid my nest. Would have gotten a good part of my family killed, as well as his whole group, if I hadn't taken his place. Foolhardy bastard. His friends figured me out, though. I barely escaped, and by then I was used to this form."
"No." Fiera shook her head. "You can't just replace people. The real Hector..."
"The real Hector didn't give a toss about any of us," said Marian. "Do you really think he's worth our compassion? When was the last time he extended any to you?"
Fiera was quiet for a minute, remembering the time she'd broken a leg fighting a troll. And Hector elected to carry the troll's treasure chest out of the dungeon, leaving her to hobble after him using a giant club as a makeshift crutch. "I guess if this shapeshifter is anything like you, Sora, it's probably an improvement."
"I know I was," commented Marian. "My new parents must have known something was different, but the family got along so much better with me in her place that they never questioned it."
Fiera stood from her chair, backing toward the door. "Are you shapeshifters going to replace everybody?"
"No," said Sora and Marian simultaneously.
Sora continued. "You're a good person, Fiera. We only take the place of assholes. People whose absence would actually improve things. For everybody, not just those of us who can change our form. Trust me, Fiera." He smiled, the friendly expression that Fiera had come to find reassuring after the years they'd spent together. "You have nothing to worry about."
Edit: typo | The tavern was alight with candles and warm fires, the smell of meats and bread wafted through to the rafters of wood and plaster. Ale stained the floor in places and the barkeep had been working on a single mug for a startling amount of time. All and all a lively place to be on this evening.
"Ah and a fine night to you as well gentlemen! Merry blessings!" The rogue said, as the men who joined him for cards departed a few coins heavier then they were at start.
"Is this not grand fellows?" The elf turned to his crew. "Ale in the air! A tavern filled with beautiful women! And my closest friend in the world." He stood then, a leg up on the top of the table, his back leg supporting him from the ground
"Ladies! Gentlemen!" He yelled, "Tonight, join me in toast to this merry band of fighters, lovers and the heroes of this town tonight! We are all thankful," he stopped to smile at his friends, the ale tinting his checks red "but I am thankful, for they are the truest of my friends" and with that he drank. The here-heres rose in strength from the crowd, and he was jostled away by the crowd with promises to be back later.
The dwarf, gnome and orc all sat in silence, looking at their drinks solemnly.
The dwarf sighed, pinching the top of his nose,
The orc had his hand in his head looking off into nothingness,
Finally the gnome chimed in, quietly, but with a resolute tone
"Okay, I'll say it. He's a much better companion then Roderick and we should do everything in our earthly powers not to mess this up."
The orc and dwarf both sighed in unanimous relief
The orc chimed in first with a hushed tone and feeling in his voice "Its like he knew what a whoreson Roderick was!" He said, sitting at attention once again " its like he knew and said to himself 'oh! These chaps look like they could use a new, better companion!' Then took it upon himself, through all the peril, to join us in disguise! All while throwing Roderick into god knows where!" He laughed. "The monster was OUR hero!"
The dwarf was next, wide eyed and hands extended to point out "Roderick" in the crowd. " look at that bloody rogue, he blends right in, they would never know they're holding possibly one of the most dangerous monsters in the land" he lowered his hands, then pointed out, " for all that, doesn't that also make him a better rogue?" They all agreed quietly.
The orc chimed in once more, tentatively, " look Roderick is a whoreson who would and almost did murder us for a small some of coin, twice." They all agreed muttering comments under their breath, " but were the you know...good guys... shouldn't we at least try to save him?"
The others were about to reluctantly agree when "Roderick" appeared before them once again
"My friends! this is as much your victory as mine! More so! Come join us, the mayor seems keen on raising our rewards! I thought it only fitting you be by my... Nay, I be by your sides during this!" He smiled warmly.
They looked at each other, shrugged and smiled
"No that's fine, we can be knaves for a night." The gnome said, stepping up from his seat. | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | The miles between them had come and gone, leaving scars and wounds and memories and laughs. The horizon that day was clear, and the world fell into green and yellow, and far away were the mountains, and everything was cloaked in a dream. They had come far. The first peaks of Lankar shimmered in an ephemeral haze.
"We've made it," Keldar said.
"Not yet."
Annastatia was worn, cut and bruised. Her eyes had dimmed some, but even the terrors of the Void had receded for the moment. She was in the present then, looking ahead, same as them all.
None had seen the mountain before. Alton had not believed in it. Haldar had said they would die before they ever crossed the river.
Now he stared with timeless eyes, eyes which had seen things from the Darkness. Eyes which had seen the birth of his kin from the still mirror waters of the Endless Caves. Those eyes had seen more than Haldar could ever have imagined.
"I guess it does exist," Alton said.
He clapped Haldar on the back. An uneasy feeling overcame him with the touch.
*It feels like him,* he thought.
And his thought travelled in the wind of the Void, that invisible world which held all the unknown things, the things that caused madness.
"Yes," Annastatia said.
She looked at Haldar.
"What?" said Keldar.
She shook her head.
They were weary and made camp on the hill. For the days past they had slept during the day, marched in the night. Their bodies were worn and tired, a piece of them all left behind in the Grey River.
*The price was worth it,* Keldar thought.
He was an older man, a knight in youth, and now his world had gone and he was alone but for adventure.
*Is it?*
He could not answer himself and the question lingered, unanswered by even Annastatia. They were quiet there on the hill. Midday came with a scarce lunch and perfunctory talk.
"I've never been so far," said Alton.
They agreed. Home had sunk away like the dying sun, and this endless night of the unknown still had miles yet to go.
"We're alive though," Keldar said.
"Yes," Annastatia said.
They looked at Haldar. Behind those eyes were the midnight of malice. But that malice reflected the sun, and then it was blue and immediate and true.
"I made it," Haldar said. "Barely by the skin of my leather, but I made it."
In the Grey River there were ancient cliffs, hills and holes. There amidst that pocked earth lived the unknown things, the things which embraced the Darkness.
In that place Haldar had fallen into the murky waters of the Grey River and its currents had taken him.
His screams had pierced the Void then, echoing even on the hill they now camped on. Annastatia winced and she saw the time as it floated past in the forever winds of that realm.
"Help!" Haldar cried.
Her hand held her staff. Every inch of her was prepared to hold it for him to grab on to. She saw it happening, feeling his weight and the rescue. And yet she hesitated.
"Help!"
She had remembered the times before. His hand caressing hers, teasing some unwanted strength, threatening in the vaguest of ways. And even then his thoughts were certain of his foul desire.
And so the river had taken him and they all had watched. They had let it happen as the waters surrounded him in an opaque cover, the burial of some unwanted pest, and they feigned the mourning as all good friends should do.
Then they were three.
But he had come back. The first trees were tall and skinny and gave little shade. Their slanting shadows were bars as they passed, looking like prisoners in a dream world, and then from that shifting prison, Haldar had come, wet and worn. The Grey River had taken much from him, he said, and he was different, completely different.
"I left more of my soul there than you," he said.
They looked at him and knew what he was, or what he wasn't. That night they discussed it in secret, and decided they would bide time before doing what must be done.
Three days had passed since then, but that time still had not come.
Sleep overcame them and they rested awhile. The falling sun awoke them to a red and orange sky and their shadows spilled past the hill.
"Statia," Alton said.
He was stretching.
"Yes?"
"I've had a bad dream. Worse than any of the others before."
"Was it of your past? The stealing in your mother's house?"
"No. No it was..."
She saw his face. She touched his head and the after images of the fading dream kindled within her.
Haldar stared beneath a blackened sky, alone and afraid. All around a great water rushed him, surrounding him with its endless sound.
The dream faded and she recoiled.
"I... I have no remedy," she said.
She looked at Haldar. The thing which pretended to be him looked at her and smiled. Though shifters like him were not connected as strongly to the Void, she could feel his thoughts in the air, like some distant food that has long been eaten.
*He means me no malice. Not like his...*
Victim. But she could not say the word.
Keldar walked to Haldar and put his hand on his shoulder.
"How is your wound?"
"Better now," Haldar said.
*He feels the same*, Keldar thought. *He really does.*
Then they packed their things and prepared for another night of walking. Lankar glittered in the night like some crystal, and yet soft as home's bed sheets on a cold night.
"What's there again?" Haldar asked.
He looked at them to see if any suspected. He thought they did. He thought he should kill them, but living in the black had not tainted his heart.
*Never have I seen such beauty as her.*
And in the moonlight Annastatia was some Queen, the kind of which no longer walks this world. Some distant being, ghost-like and tender, and yet strong and hardy with eyes opened into the real world.
*But she is Keldar's.*
And he felt sad. He felt the light on him and looked up.
*I should kill them and have her to myself.*
But she would die first before such things could happen. She would kill him then surely. They already considered the deed. He closed his eyes. The light painted him with a warmth the others could not feel.
*They have not lived in the dark,* he thought. *They are human. Weak and ignorant of the Dark, for they know not of such things.*
"Lankar," Alton said. "The mountain of Dreams. There, as legend goes, is the Spring of Dreaming. One sip of its water will change you. It will make whatever is in your heart come true."
"It can change the world physically?"
"No," said Annastatia. "But it will change *you*. It will change the spirit so that what you hold dearest will come true in a way of its own. It is not a place of wishes."
"It is like the Grey River then?" Haldar asked.
"Yes, in a sense. But it does not take. It gives and cleanses."
Then they were quiet. In their hearts they were uneasy. Haldar's death weighed immensely on them.
*The Spring will clean me,* Keldar thought.
Annastatia held him. Her face was pretty in the white light and he looked at her and loved her anew once more. He put his arm around her.
*I am an evil man,* he thought.
She looked at him with those sad eyes of hers.
*If that be true, then so are we all my love.*
He squeezed her hand.
*What hope is there then? This guilt weighs too heavy on me.*
*The Spring, as you've thought. The Spring is our only hope. Haldar was a fool. The River took him of its own choosing. His heart was black, blacker than this imposter.*
"I like you," Alton said to Haldar. "I don't know if you understand, but I'll be truthful. I like you."
And Haldar, the thing, understood as much. It too had thoughts that raged in an incomprehensible storm.
"I like you too," he said. "All of you."
"Then may the Spring save us," Keldar said.
And they marched in silence as the night slowly passed.
-
*Hi there! If you liked this story, please consider my subreddit r/PanMan. It has all my WP stories as well as some original ones. I'm slowly working on it and getting it to look nicer, so I promise it will look better soon. Thank you!* | The tavern was alight with candles and warm fires, the smell of meats and bread wafted through to the rafters of wood and plaster. Ale stained the floor in places and the barkeep had been working on a single mug for a startling amount of time. All and all a lively place to be on this evening.
"Ah and a fine night to you as well gentlemen! Merry blessings!" The rogue said, as the men who joined him for cards departed a few coins heavier then they were at start.
"Is this not grand fellows?" The elf turned to his crew. "Ale in the air! A tavern filled with beautiful women! And my closest friend in the world." He stood then, a leg up on the top of the table, his back leg supporting him from the ground
"Ladies! Gentlemen!" He yelled, "Tonight, join me in toast to this merry band of fighters, lovers and the heroes of this town tonight! We are all thankful," he stopped to smile at his friends, the ale tinting his checks red "but I am thankful, for they are the truest of my friends" and with that he drank. The here-heres rose in strength from the crowd, and he was jostled away by the crowd with promises to be back later.
The dwarf, gnome and orc all sat in silence, looking at their drinks solemnly.
The dwarf sighed, pinching the top of his nose,
The orc had his hand in his head looking off into nothingness,
Finally the gnome chimed in, quietly, but with a resolute tone
"Okay, I'll say it. He's a much better companion then Roderick and we should do everything in our earthly powers not to mess this up."
The orc and dwarf both sighed in unanimous relief
The orc chimed in first with a hushed tone and feeling in his voice "Its like he knew what a whoreson Roderick was!" He said, sitting at attention once again " its like he knew and said to himself 'oh! These chaps look like they could use a new, better companion!' Then took it upon himself, through all the peril, to join us in disguise! All while throwing Roderick into god knows where!" He laughed. "The monster was OUR hero!"
The dwarf was next, wide eyed and hands extended to point out "Roderick" in the crowd. " look at that bloody rogue, he blends right in, they would never know they're holding possibly one of the most dangerous monsters in the land" he lowered his hands, then pointed out, " for all that, doesn't that also make him a better rogue?" They all agreed quietly.
The orc chimed in once more, tentatively, " look Roderick is a whoreson who would and almost did murder us for a small some of coin, twice." They all agreed muttering comments under their breath, " but were the you know...good guys... shouldn't we at least try to save him?"
The others were about to reluctantly agree when "Roderick" appeared before them once again
"My friends! this is as much your victory as mine! More so! Come join us, the mayor seems keen on raising our rewards! I thought it only fitting you be by my... Nay, I be by your sides during this!" He smiled warmly.
They looked at each other, shrugged and smiled
"No that's fine, we can be knaves for a night." The gnome said, stepping up from his seat. | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | "That was..." Brawg began, staggering over the bodies of the fallen goblins, his boots squelching in the treacle-like blood.
"Far too..." said Vesperr, returning her bow to her back, and beginning to pluck out arrows from the deceased enemies.
"Oxyrin!" finished Oxyrin, his pointed hat falling over his eyes once again. Dribble oozed down from his mouth and his pupils spun this way and that, as if two compasses confused by magnets.
Brawg and Vesperr looked at each other for a moment, then burst out laughing. Brawg brought a thunderous hand down on the wizard's back. "Don't ever change, Oxyrin!" he said.
"Oh, Oxyrin," grinned Vesperr, "you're the reason we do this, you know? For that smile on your face." She wiped away a the spittle from his lips, then shook her finger, sending the spit plopping onto the ground.
"Oxyrin!" Oxyrin repeated. A pointed tongue darted out of his mouth and latched onto a fly that was hovering over a brutalised body below.
"I'm going to pretend I didn't just see that," said Brawg with a wink. "Okay gang, I'd say we're all done here. I believe its time to go collect our reward."
"Not so fast, my friends," came a mysterious voice from behind them. Only, when they turned, there was *nothing* behind them.
Slowly, the blue-robed wizard hazed into existence. "It is I, the *real* Oxyrin! I have been trapped for the longest time, but I have finally outsmarted my captors and have returned to my friends. For no one is as clever as the Great Oxyrin!"
Brawg and Vesperr glanced at each other, then let out a joint gasp.
"Quite you might gasp," said Oxyrin, as he turned and pointed an accusing finger at the other blue wizard, who was now on all fours chasing after a spider. "For that fellow, has fooled you, my dear friends. But he is nothing more than an impostor! A Doppelganger! A fake, a fraud, and dare I say it, a phoney."
Brawg nudged Vesperr and they both gasped again.
"How.. erm, how can we believe you?" asked Vesperr, her top lip wet with nervous sweat. "How do we know he--"she pointed to the to the wizard, who was now chewing on something--"isn't the real Oxyrin. After all, he would have had to fool us both for two entire years."
Oxyrin rolled his eyes. "Hardly a challenging task. You two never were the"--his hands burst into blue flames--"brightest sparks. Ha. Hahaha."
Brawg's muscles tensed. Vesperr put a hand against his chest.
"That's not proof enough. For our Oxyrin can also do such petty parlour tricks."
"Very well," Oxyrin sighed, "I shall prove it. We shall have a wizard-off."
"Smart," said Vesperr. She let out a high pitched whistle, at which the other Oxyrin came bounding over to her.
"Oxyrin!" he sputtered as he arrived.
"Is that all he can say? How could you *possibly* believe he was me?"
"Good point," said Brawg. "His vocabulary is much larger."
"Oh. You made a joke. How very amusing."
"Okay," said Vesperr. "Round one of the wizard-off. *Shape-shifting.*"
"What? What a stupid round," complained Oxyrin, "for sniffing out a shape-shifter!" His face was red and a vein popped out of his forehead, pulsating like waves on the ocean. "Unbelievable idiocy. How you have possibly survived this long without me to guide you -- heaven only knows!"
"Oxyrin!" replied the other Oxyrin.
"Well, if you can't do it and he can..." said Brawg shrugging, "then I guess we know who the real wizard is."
"Oh... *pish!* Very well. And what must we change into, pray tell?"
"Something very small. To really challenge your morphitisation skills. A fly. Simple. First one to transform into a fly wins."
"Sala kazoo, Sala kazam!" shouted Oxyrin. There was a puff of smoke that left Vesperr and Brawg coughing. As it cleared, and only for the briefest moment, they saw a fly. Then, they saw a huge, pointed tongue. Finally, they saw an Oxyrin chewing on and then swallowing *something*.
"Oxyrin!" he shouted triumphantly, as Brawg and Vesperr collapsed into a fit of laughter.
"Oh Oxyrin," said Brawg, slapping him on the back "you really are too much."
"And," said Vesperr, "we wouldn't have it any other way!"
| The tavern was alight with candles and warm fires, the smell of meats and bread wafted through to the rafters of wood and plaster. Ale stained the floor in places and the barkeep had been working on a single mug for a startling amount of time. All and all a lively place to be on this evening.
"Ah and a fine night to you as well gentlemen! Merry blessings!" The rogue said, as the men who joined him for cards departed a few coins heavier then they were at start.
"Is this not grand fellows?" The elf turned to his crew. "Ale in the air! A tavern filled with beautiful women! And my closest friend in the world." He stood then, a leg up on the top of the table, his back leg supporting him from the ground
"Ladies! Gentlemen!" He yelled, "Tonight, join me in toast to this merry band of fighters, lovers and the heroes of this town tonight! We are all thankful," he stopped to smile at his friends, the ale tinting his checks red "but I am thankful, for they are the truest of my friends" and with that he drank. The here-heres rose in strength from the crowd, and he was jostled away by the crowd with promises to be back later.
The dwarf, gnome and orc all sat in silence, looking at their drinks solemnly.
The dwarf sighed, pinching the top of his nose,
The orc had his hand in his head looking off into nothingness,
Finally the gnome chimed in, quietly, but with a resolute tone
"Okay, I'll say it. He's a much better companion then Roderick and we should do everything in our earthly powers not to mess this up."
The orc and dwarf both sighed in unanimous relief
The orc chimed in first with a hushed tone and feeling in his voice "Its like he knew what a whoreson Roderick was!" He said, sitting at attention once again " its like he knew and said to himself 'oh! These chaps look like they could use a new, better companion!' Then took it upon himself, through all the peril, to join us in disguise! All while throwing Roderick into god knows where!" He laughed. "The monster was OUR hero!"
The dwarf was next, wide eyed and hands extended to point out "Roderick" in the crowd. " look at that bloody rogue, he blends right in, they would never know they're holding possibly one of the most dangerous monsters in the land" he lowered his hands, then pointed out, " for all that, doesn't that also make him a better rogue?" They all agreed quietly.
The orc chimed in once more, tentatively, " look Roderick is a whoreson who would and almost did murder us for a small some of coin, twice." They all agreed muttering comments under their breath, " but were the you know...good guys... shouldn't we at least try to save him?"
The others were about to reluctantly agree when "Roderick" appeared before them once again
"My friends! this is as much your victory as mine! More so! Come join us, the mayor seems keen on raising our rewards! I thought it only fitting you be by my... Nay, I be by your sides during this!" He smiled warmly.
They looked at each other, shrugged and smiled
"No that's fine, we can be knaves for a night." The gnome said, stepping up from his seat. | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | "A fine...mead?!" Rorik shouts over the din of the tavern. His companions smile and nod along with him as he sings some old barbarian tune.
Sings it wrong. They don't tell him that though.
Delia, the group's cleric leans over to their mage.
"Do you think he knows?"
Melvar just shakes his head and holds out a palm towards their massive friend. Friend as of lately, of course. Rorik was a massive pain for the group long before the shifter stole his face.
"He definitely doesn't but...I think I like him. Rorik was a bit of a jerk, always running off into the dungeons with that stupid battlecry. Remember when we went into the Crypt of Alohar, how many good people did he get killed?"
"Yeah...he's kinda cute now. Like a child or something."
They both watch Rorik move around the tavern with his mug and talk to other groups of adventurers. He's loud but not overbearing. He listens to the stories of others instead of telling his own. He drinks but not to excess. He is nothing like the barbarian they all had come to know and...
Melvar doesn't quite finish the thought.
"You know what Del, I like him. I know he's a shifter but look at everyone. We all know and he's trying so hard to be like Rorik but he just can't. I don't think there's a mean bone in that thing's body. You know that he hasn't made fun of my beard once, not in months."
She snorts. The young mage was trying so hard to grow it out and he'd been self-conscious about it for months.
A warrior passing by their table to his own party leans over and whispers it to the pair.
"You should keep him. He's an improvement."
"Friends!" Rorik shouts, sitting again at their table, "What fun! And we do this between every adventure? And people give us gold to go on those adventures? To spend here? Amazing!"
He is off again before they can even respond.
"Do you think The Dwarf knows?" Melvar watches Rorik join another random group of adventures and sing yet another song. Still wrong.
Delia shrugs.
"I don't know and I don't care. We're gonna keep him. He's like a dog or something. But useful."
Melvar strokes his "beard" for a moment.
"Alright, we'll keep him. But I swear if he ever makes fun of my beard-"
"What? You'll strangle him with one of your wisps? You should really shave, you're looking more like a magical hobo than a wizard. 'I cast: smell of unwashedness!'"
As she walks away laughing at her own joke Melvar narrows his eyes. He lifts his mug and mutters something into it before drinking.
"I'll replace you too if I have to..." | The tavern was alight with candles and warm fires, the smell of meats and bread wafted through to the rafters of wood and plaster. Ale stained the floor in places and the barkeep had been working on a single mug for a startling amount of time. All and all a lively place to be on this evening.
"Ah and a fine night to you as well gentlemen! Merry blessings!" The rogue said, as the men who joined him for cards departed a few coins heavier then they were at start.
"Is this not grand fellows?" The elf turned to his crew. "Ale in the air! A tavern filled with beautiful women! And my closest friend in the world." He stood then, a leg up on the top of the table, his back leg supporting him from the ground
"Ladies! Gentlemen!" He yelled, "Tonight, join me in toast to this merry band of fighters, lovers and the heroes of this town tonight! We are all thankful," he stopped to smile at his friends, the ale tinting his checks red "but I am thankful, for they are the truest of my friends" and with that he drank. The here-heres rose in strength from the crowd, and he was jostled away by the crowd with promises to be back later.
The dwarf, gnome and orc all sat in silence, looking at their drinks solemnly.
The dwarf sighed, pinching the top of his nose,
The orc had his hand in his head looking off into nothingness,
Finally the gnome chimed in, quietly, but with a resolute tone
"Okay, I'll say it. He's a much better companion then Roderick and we should do everything in our earthly powers not to mess this up."
The orc and dwarf both sighed in unanimous relief
The orc chimed in first with a hushed tone and feeling in his voice "Its like he knew what a whoreson Roderick was!" He said, sitting at attention once again " its like he knew and said to himself 'oh! These chaps look like they could use a new, better companion!' Then took it upon himself, through all the peril, to join us in disguise! All while throwing Roderick into god knows where!" He laughed. "The monster was OUR hero!"
The dwarf was next, wide eyed and hands extended to point out "Roderick" in the crowd. " look at that bloody rogue, he blends right in, they would never know they're holding possibly one of the most dangerous monsters in the land" he lowered his hands, then pointed out, " for all that, doesn't that also make him a better rogue?" They all agreed quietly.
The orc chimed in once more, tentatively, " look Roderick is a whoreson who would and almost did murder us for a small some of coin, twice." They all agreed muttering comments under their breath, " but were the you know...good guys... shouldn't we at least try to save him?"
The others were about to reluctantly agree when "Roderick" appeared before them once again
"My friends! this is as much your victory as mine! More so! Come join us, the mayor seems keen on raising our rewards! I thought it only fitting you be by my... Nay, I be by your sides during this!" He smiled warmly.
They looked at each other, shrugged and smiled
"No that's fine, we can be knaves for a night." The gnome said, stepping up from his seat. | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | The tavern was alight with candles and warm fires, the smell of meats and bread wafted through to the rafters of wood and plaster. Ale stained the floor in places and the barkeep had been working on a single mug for a startling amount of time. All and all a lively place to be on this evening.
"Ah and a fine night to you as well gentlemen! Merry blessings!" The rogue said, as the men who joined him for cards departed a few coins heavier then they were at start.
"Is this not grand fellows?" The elf turned to his crew. "Ale in the air! A tavern filled with beautiful women! And my closest friends in the world." He stood then, a leg up on the top of the table, his back leg supporting him from the ground
"Ladies! Gentlemen!" He yelled, "Tonight, join me in toast to this merry band of fighters, lovers and the heroes of this town! We are all thankful," he stopped to smile at his friends, the ale tinting his checks red "but I am thankful, for they are the truest of my friends" and with that he drank. The here-heres rose in strength from the crowd, and he was jostled away by the crowd with promises to be back later.
The dwarf, gnome and orc all sat in silence, looking at their drinks solemnly.
The dwarf sighed, pinching the top of his nose,
The orc had his head in his hands looking off into nothingness,
Finally the gnome chimed in, quietly, but with a resolute tone
"Okay, I'll say it. He's a much better companion then Roderick and we should do everything in our earthly powers not to mess this up."
The orc and dwarf both sighed in unanimous relief
The orc chimed in first with a hushed tone and feeling in his voice "Its like he knew what a whoreson Roderick was!" He said, sitting at attention once again " its like he knew and said to himself 'oh! These chaps look like they could use a new, better companion!' Then took it upon himself, through all the peril, to join us in disguise! All while throwing Roderick into god knows where!" He laughed. "The monster was OUR hero!"
The dwarf was next, wide eyed and hands extended to point out "Roderick" in the crowd. " look at that bloody rogue, he blends right in, they would never know they're holding possibly one of the most dangerous monsters in the land" he lowered his hands, then pointed out, " for all that, doesn't that also make him a better rogue?" They all agreed quietly.
The orc chimed in once more, tentatively, " look Roderick is a whoreson who would and almost did murder us for a small some of coin, twice." They all agreed muttering comments under their breath, " but were the you know...good guys... shouldn't we at least try to save him?"
The others were about to reluctantly agree when "Roderick" appeared before them once again
"My friends! this is as much your victory as mine! More so! Come join us, the mayor seems keen on raising our rewards! I thought it only fitting you be by my... Nay, I be by your sides during this!" He smiled warmly.
They looked at each other, shrugged and smiled
"No that's fine, we can be knaves for a night." The gnome said, stepping up from his seat. | John, George, and Ringo were huddled together inside a secret room on the fantastical magical yellow submarine.
"George, how confident are you?"
George left his momentary silence of contemplation to say " Paul is dead man, miss him."
Ringo asks, "do you though? I mean I doubt if you guys would miss me either."
John shook his head, "we must have lost him on our way through Abby Road"
George sighed "I like the new one. I say we let it be."
A knock on the door. "You there guys? I was hoping we'd do a music number about friendship."
John looked at the others, and they nodded in agreement. John opened the door and announced, "ALL TOGETHER NOW!" | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | "Guys, I think those holes might be for arrows or something. We had better check if this hallway is trapped!" warned Danny.
The party stopped, and Julie, an experienced rogue, did a check for traps. Sure enough, she found one, though curiously it was already disarmed.
Veronica explained, "It looks like someone has already blocked the mechanism with a rock. It should be safe to head down the passageway."
"Wait, before we go on, I need a quick break to use the loo." Danny looked abashed.
That brought some sighs from the group. "Couldn't you have done that a few minutes ago, before we entered the dungeon?" asked Veronica.
"Sorry everyone," replied Danny, "I drank too much water earlier." And off he went in search of some relief.
With Danny gone, the party had a moment to talk to themselves.
"He's really been such a better husband and father since....", Veronica trailed off.
"Yes, we've noticed lots of positive changes," replied Jim.
"He's making so much more time for the children. He's being so much more responsible in every way."
"You yourself seem happier these days", remarked Julie. "Have you decided to let on that you know?"
"No, I'm worried it...he... might decide to stop pretending. Our love-life has gotten incredible, and he is so much more into the role playing aspects I enjoy." For a moment her conflicting emotions filled her face. "He is my husband, even if he isn't the man I married anymore."
"We're here for you. We'll keep it quiet." Julie gave her hand a squeeze. "Oh, I think he's coming back."
Danny walked in, and rejoined the party. "Lets go kick some goblin butt!" He picked up the dice, and turned and look at his wife with a smile. "Ok DM, what do you think I need to roll to get a pizza delivered while we finish our game?" | John, George, and Ringo were huddled together inside a secret room on the fantastical magical yellow submarine.
"George, how confident are you?"
George left his momentary silence of contemplation to say " Paul is dead man, miss him."
Ringo asks, "do you though? I mean I doubt if you guys would miss me either."
John shook his head, "we must have lost him on our way through Abby Road"
George sighed "I like the new one. I say we let it be."
A knock on the door. "You there guys? I was hoping we'd do a music number about friendship."
John looked at the others, and they nodded in agreement. John opened the door and announced, "ALL TOGETHER NOW!" | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | Theldon – or at least the creature that was wearing his face – looked pale in the light of the campfire. As the wood crackled and burned, he chewed his lower lip, gathering his courage to speak.
“Guys … I … I have something to tell you,” he managed.
His three traveling companions looked at him. Vanariel snapped her spellbook shut and drew her staff. “What is it? An ambush? I told you guys I saw goblin-sign back there!”
“No, no! Not goblins!” Theldon said, holding his hands out. “It’s … it’s about me.”
Shiny Pete smirked. “What? You got the whore’s itch or something? Nothing to be ashamed of, buddy. Happened to us all once or twice.”
Dagmar glowered at the rogue from under bushy eyebrows. “Or mayhap a good number of times more than that.”
“No! It's not a disease either! It’s just …” Theldon took a deep breath. “Guys … I’m … I’m a doppelganger."
The three of them shared a long look, and then Vanariel and Shiny Pete burst out laughing. Dagmar’s glower deepened. “That’s no’ funny, lad,” he growled.
Vanariel and Shiny Pete stopped laughing. “Wait, wait,” the rogue said, “Dagmar, you didn’t *know?*”
Theldon looked shocked. “Wait, you guys *knew?*”
The elven woman tittered. “You’re not the shapeshifter you think you are. The real Theldon was an asshole.”
“Total dickwad,” Shiny Pete agreed. “In, like, every conceivable way.”
Dagmar leapt to his feet, drawing his axe. “You mean this is no’ a joke?” he roared, advancing on Theldon. “Die, fiend!”
As one, Vanariel and Shiny Pete placed themselves between the enraged dwarf and the doppleganger. “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Shiny Pete yelled. “This might not be the original Theldon, but he’s been with us for almost a year now. He was the guy who stood over you after you got paralyzed by a ghoul.”
“He took point when we fought that dragon,” Vanariel continued.
“Hell, he got in the face of evil sorcerer while you were busy chopping up his henchmen,” Shiny Pete added.
“Those henchmen represented a serious threat!” Dagmar retorted, “And it was no' like it was a full-grown dragon. Only a wee one!”
In unison, Valariel and Shiny Pete rolled their eyes. Dagmar glowered some more. He was good at it, and he liked to play to his strengths. At last the dwarf made a humphing noise and lowered his axe. Valariel sat down and opened her spellbook again. “Okay, that’s over right? We can get back to the adventuring?”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Pete said. Dagmar only grunted.
“Did you guys really know?” Theldon asked, still somewhat wary of the dwarf.
“Oh, yeah. I mean, it was kind of suspicious how he was dying of jungle rot one day and completely fine the next. But you’re really not much like the original Theldon at all. First of all, you’re actually useful in combat. And second of all, you’re a decent guy. I mean, I can have an ale with you and not worry that you’re going to stiff me on the check,” Pete said.
“Or stare at my tits while I’m trancing. Or grab my ass when I’m trying to brew potions,” Vanariel added. “And the ear jokes. Ugh, the original Theldon was such a creep. Why did we even keep him around?”
"Good question," Pete said. "I mean, I asked myself that a bunch of times after we got new Theldon. 'Why did we even keep that tool around in the first place?'"
“So you guys don’t even care that I’m a shapeshifter?”
“Not really, no,” Pete said. “I worked with lots of different people when I was in the Thieves’ Guild. Changelings weren’t any more likely to try killing me in my sleep than humans or half-elves. In my experience, everyone’s pretty human when you get down to it.”
“Hey! Speak for yourself, round-ears,” Vanariel said with half of a smile. “But nevertheless, I agree with the sentiment.”
“Oh,” Theldon said. He sat in own thoughts for a moment. “Thanks, guys. That means a lot to me.”
“Don’t mention it,” Pete said, and Vanariel nodded in agreement.
The evening passed in silence. Shiny Pete honed his daggers, and Vanariel memorized her spells. Dagmar and Theldon each sat in silence, alone with his thoughts.
At last the dwarf spoke. “Lad,” he asked the doppleganger, “have you ever tried maybe not being a shapeshifter?”
| John, George, and Ringo were huddled together inside a secret room on the fantastical magical yellow submarine.
"George, how confident are you?"
George left his momentary silence of contemplation to say " Paul is dead man, miss him."
Ringo asks, "do you though? I mean I doubt if you guys would miss me either."
John shook his head, "we must have lost him on our way through Abby Road"
George sighed "I like the new one. I say we let it be."
A knock on the door. "You there guys? I was hoping we'd do a music number about friendship."
John looked at the others, and they nodded in agreement. John opened the door and announced, "ALL TOGETHER NOW!" | |
[WP] A group of fantasy adventures has one of their members replaced by a Doppelganger. The rest of the group realizes what happened, but keep pretending to be fooled since they like the doppelganger a lot more than the guy it replaced. | "Guys, I think those holes might be for arrows or something. We had better check if this hallway is trapped!" warned Danny.
The party stopped, and Julie, an experienced rogue, did a check for traps. Sure enough, she found one, though curiously it was already disarmed.
Veronica explained, "It looks like someone has already blocked the mechanism with a rock. It should be safe to head down the passageway."
"Wait, before we go on, I need a quick break to use the loo." Danny looked abashed.
That brought some sighs from the group. "Couldn't you have done that a few minutes ago, before we entered the dungeon?" asked Veronica.
"Sorry everyone," replied Danny, "I drank too much water earlier." And off he went in search of some relief.
With Danny gone, the party had a moment to talk to themselves.
"He's really been such a better husband and father since....", Veronica trailed off.
"Yes, we've noticed lots of positive changes," replied Jim.
"He's making so much more time for the children. He's being so much more responsible in every way."
"You yourself seem happier these days", remarked Julie. "Have you decided to let on that you know?"
"No, I'm worried it...he... might decide to stop pretending. Our love-life has gotten incredible, and he is so much more into the role playing aspects I enjoy." For a moment her conflicting emotions filled her face. "He is my husband, even if he isn't the man I married anymore."
"We're here for you. We'll keep it quiet." Julie gave her hand a squeeze. "Oh, I think he's coming back."
Danny walked in, and rejoined the party. "Lets go kick some goblin butt!" He picked up the dice, and turned and look at his wife with a smile. "Ok DM, what do you think I need to roll to get a pizza delivered while we finish our game?" | The tavern was alight with candles and warm fires, the smell of meats and bread wafted through to the rafters of wood and plaster. Ale stained the floor in places and the barkeep had been working on a single mug for a startling amount of time. All and all a lively place to be on this evening.
"Ah and a fine night to you as well gentlemen! Merry blessings!" The rogue said, as the men who joined him for cards departed a few coins heavier then they were at start.
"Is this not grand fellows?" The elf turned to his crew. "Ale in the air! A tavern filled with beautiful women! And my closest friends in the world." He stood then, a leg up on the top of the table, his back leg supporting him from the ground
"Ladies! Gentlemen!" He yelled, "Tonight, join me in toast to this merry band of fighters, lovers and the heroes of this town! We are all thankful," he stopped to smile at his friends, the ale tinting his checks red "but I am thankful, for they are the truest of my friends" and with that he drank. The here-heres rose in strength from the crowd, and he was jostled away by the crowd with promises to be back later.
The dwarf, gnome and orc all sat in silence, looking at their drinks solemnly.
The dwarf sighed, pinching the top of his nose,
The orc had his head in his hands looking off into nothingness,
Finally the gnome chimed in, quietly, but with a resolute tone
"Okay, I'll say it. He's a much better companion then Roderick and we should do everything in our earthly powers not to mess this up."
The orc and dwarf both sighed in unanimous relief
The orc chimed in first with a hushed tone and feeling in his voice "Its like he knew what a whoreson Roderick was!" He said, sitting at attention once again " its like he knew and said to himself 'oh! These chaps look like they could use a new, better companion!' Then took it upon himself, through all the peril, to join us in disguise! All while throwing Roderick into god knows where!" He laughed. "The monster was OUR hero!"
The dwarf was next, wide eyed and hands extended to point out "Roderick" in the crowd. " look at that bloody rogue, he blends right in, they would never know they're holding possibly one of the most dangerous monsters in the land" he lowered his hands, then pointed out, " for all that, doesn't that also make him a better rogue?" They all agreed quietly.
The orc chimed in once more, tentatively, " look Roderick is a whoreson who would and almost did murder us for a small some of coin, twice." They all agreed muttering comments under their breath, " but were the you know...good guys... shouldn't we at least try to save him?"
The others were about to reluctantly agree when "Roderick" appeared before them once again
"My friends! this is as much your victory as mine! More so! Come join us, the mayor seems keen on raising our rewards! I thought it only fitting you be by my... Nay, I be by your sides during this!" He smiled warmly.
They looked at each other, shrugged and smiled
"No that's fine, we can be knaves for a night." The gnome said, stepping up from his seat. |
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