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Player's Guide Places People History Beliefs

 
 


No More Please
I want to go home
Dear Madroc and Modroc,

I have a confession, and I could possibly get in trouble for writing this, so don't show anyone else, please.

I don't want to be out here, anymore.

I thought it would be fun, to be able to get out of the city and see new places, see the reaches of the Barony, and help some of the newer kobold outposts integrate quicker into Bloodskull rule. But it's a lot more dangerous out here than I thought. A LOT more dangerous. Dangerous well beyond the point of making me dead, and I don't like the thought of me being dead. Well, at least not before I'm old, with books and grandchildren of my own.

The mouthpiece for the leadership here keeps sending me outside the outpost for really dangerous things that I'm not really suited for. I never bothered to learn Gnoll, but helping out negotiations? Okay, I could see that. Hunting down deserters, though? I'm not made for that. I'm tiny, and weak, even for a kobold; I'm no good for that sort of work. You both know that I never was. And then about ten days ago, a couple of giant centipedes came crawling up out of one of the new deep mines. Being out so close to the border with the pinkskins, we're practically crawling with big burly guards, but most of them couldn't be bothered with that. What am I supposed to do about centipedes? I'm a scribe and translator!

But the worst came yesterday. They sent a couple of us out to steal food from nearby pinkskin settlements, of all things. Of course, we agreed to buy the livestock instead, but Gash didn't seem none too pleased with that decision. But, how am I supposed to be a help getting cows, or pigs? I don't know anything about farming, and I'm small and weak. But they sent me anyway, and that half-orc Seetha lady who doesn't say much, and also a fellow I've seen around a little. Big hulking fellow by the name of Gern.

It couldn't only be demeaning, though. Oh no! We got to the nearest human farmhold, but we didn't see anybody. Just a sty full of pigs. Pigs that were very obviously dead, but um, still moving around. Zombie pigs. Who ever heard the like? But even though they were stupid and clumsy, they almost did for us. I'm not too proud to admit that when the two warrior-type people got beat down, I ran. Luckily, zombie pigs are slow, and I got away easily, then doubled back to revive the shields. Erm, I mean people. People. So that I could stand behind them.

We looked around in the farmhouse, and found no one home, dead, living dead, or alive. Then things got really strange (and terrifying)!

Someone heard music, so we had to go traipsing through the corn. I don't know why, but apparently we had to find out what it was, though I don't remember being told anything about finding out about creepy music from Gash. But we got to the clearing where the music was coming from, and it was some kind of carnival or fair. Something from hell. I'm not joking. We went inside to look around, but then we found that we couldn't get back out. But then the very creepy and scary leader-person told us that we were the main attraction, and then we saw that the stands were filled with dead people. I think they were all the people that died in this...place.

Now here's how I know it was from hell: the leader guy sent lemures out to kill us! I know a little about them, they were in one of your books. They were mostly only fanciful tales, but I do remember that they were lower devils. I thought sure that if I survived the heart attack I was having that they'd slaughter me in ways I can't even imagine, and my imagination is pretty vivid about ways I could die.

So I don't like it out here. I want to go back to being a scribe, inside a safe city, and a safer keep, with a library. I really don't like it out here.

Yours,
Nibar

From the journal of Nibar The Nervous

Contributor: Chris Schuettpelz