The Tale of Toad, Part I
This is a true and honest account of the events leading to my recognition as royalty (pending), and acceptance into the clergy (impending).
We found ourselves, as so many do, brought together by slavers, who have always lived up to their official mission statement - 'connecting people'. The slavers shunted into some abandoned space under a false pretence, so I crafted an ingenious plan to circumvent the journey, which my new companions misunderstood, and so proceeded into the black depths, to speak with an animated skull who desperately wanted to hold onto his sanity, despite his insane condition.
We left via some strange exit in a tree, in the rain.
Lacking funds, we found ourselves forced into the employment of a dangerous man with a fearsome reputation (he underpays at every turn).
The daring mission involved locating and re-locating an item in a bath house. As per my namesake, I sat in the bathhouse pool, while Maia obtained employment (despite her sharpened teeth), and Poopy used her scroll to turn into black sludge and hide in a jar. I deposited the Poopy-jar with the other valuables, which kept her entertained and out of the way for hours!
After ingratiating myself with the Friends of Giants Society (who long to return to their rightful place under the heels of giants), Maia won the employee of the month award, then we escaped with the item (some kind of cross?) while the angry bath-house attendant (known only as 'the Toe Twister') pulverised Poopy to death (despite her mucous-form lacking toes).
Poopy resurrected soon after, somewhat weaker than before, and babbled something about a conversation with 'the dark'. We explained that the bath-house simply has no lights, and she had probably just passed out.
Our next mission involved some weeks of travel to obtain the legendary bones of St. Gravis.
The road held the usual perils: a giant (whom the slavers had helpfully tied up), a giant held aloft by the Friends of Giants Society (my stomach covered the head of the previous giant sufficiently, and ingeniously), and a snake cult.
During our dealings with the slavers, Poopy cowardly hid inside a slaver. He soon began bleeding internally, and vomited up the blood, along with Poopy, who (sickened by her own cowardice) began to vomit.
Hey, did I ever tell you my joke about 'the Aristocrats'? Later...
I love all cultists equally, but especially snake cultists.
By the time we had arrived, the snake cult had become fully convinced that the tomb of St. Gravis held some special meaning for them, and entered to scope out the tunnels. We remember their sacrifice fondly.
The map here shows a monument to the Shadow King (East), his bride (North), and the Saint of Pyjamas (West). Also some sword of a giant-slayer or something (I am no Theologian).
The entire history was shown upon some jar in the ancient tomb. I don't remember what it means, but it's something important.
We found some fake artefact and another talking skull, then returned with a shining, golden, cross, inlaid with jewels, and explained the truth of the whole affair. Our employer reimbursed us enough for a few beers, but not enough for the food we required over those months of travel.
Also Poopy died at some point. I don't recall.
Moving on...
Our stinge-lord employer then requested we venture to the North East. This time, the contract had no leeway - we were paid up-front for travel-rations.
After a long journey to the North East, we found a village of unending horrors. The night life was nothing but sultry teenagers, and the only chat was from new money who sold people to slavers.
Poopy joined the teenagers, so against all reason, Maia and I went chasing her, while the villagers tried to capture us. We tried in vein to not re-enact a Scooby-Doo scene, but what could we do? Villages are mostly made of walls and doors. We had no choice.
Fleeing into the church, we found some of the most pathetic excuses for vampires one can imagine. They survived on the charity of villagers throwing them scraps, and ran away once confronted. The little biters had wide mouths, skinny bodies, spent all night reading books in their underground library. So in addition to being pathetic, they were nerds.
We set the place on fire, found a magic portal, and left (heroically). Also, Poopy died, and returned even weaker than before.
After some weeks of travel, we returned, having thoroughly forgotten what the mission was. (Long term memory costs extra!) The meagre earnings afforded us a little food, and I found my famously dashing hat. The next mission involved stealing from a bishop in Bastion, so we journeyed North with an even better contract. We were to steal a map from the bishop; a map which points the way to the bones of St Gravis.
Our most excellent guide, Clarence, aided us through the swamp. We fought past some fish-men (Poopy died), and raided some tombs. I give tomb raiding a solid 5/5. Maia found mechanical armour which transforms from small to large with the flick of a switch, I found a spiderweb crossbow, and Poopy found herself adopted by a ghost who searched for her missing child and suffocated everything she held with great, black, tears. Poopy evaded death by turning into black sludge once again, and mixing with the black, ectoplasmic tears.
The spiderweb crossbow has debatable value. It shoots harmless arrows with a spiderweb attached, allowing one to pull people without hurting them (the arrows can stick into a target's skull harmlessly, by some magic). On the one hand, it has saved the lives of everyone in the crew, and multiple donkeys. On the other hand, I find something unsatisfying about watching an arrow enter someone's skull without seeing blood.
The bishop at Bastion did not trust us (being unaware at the time that I, Toad, am the most trustworthy and honest man, from Sarkash, to Bastion), so we agreed to prove ourselves by slaying undead creatures in the South (most of the land South of Bastion is peopled by un-people).
We fought. I killed a lich or two. Maia helped. Poopy died. Good times. But you probably know the entire story from the famous play, 'Toad the Dead Slayer' (I had it commissioned shortly after).
We decided that since the bishop was an excellent fellow, we would not rob him, but continued to earn his trust (for non-robbery purposes). So we took yet another mission from him, journeying a little South, with a caravan, which had a most excellent minstrel (who sings to this day, of our exploits).
This time the bishop had us locate one 'Alex Delosh', another holy man. The peasants were full of petty rivalries, and the fields were full of ghosts, but none of this compared to the bees.
Poopy located Alex in the estate house (North East), so we all entered, after rousing the local peasants. Once underground, we found the place burning (I can't say why), and infested with hive-brained morons.
Each one had bees entering and exiting their face, presumably living where their brains once lived. Maia slew most of them as Poopy lit the way as a sentient puddle of gloup, while holding a candle.
Soon after, Poopy had died, and returned weaker, and with two bat-like wings (bat-like, insofar as bats do not fly well). Once we returned, I spent some time explaining to the bishop that Poopy was in fact not cursed, but blessed. The bishop paid the agreed amount, showing that he was a good and honest man (much like myself), and we have been working for him ever since.
Our greatest trial yet was yet to come, however. Before our next mission, Bastion had fallen to the evils of bureaucracy, and faff. I must have passed out, as I don't recall the incident.
Where was I...?