User:Ir'revrykal/Characters/Samophlange/The Surprising Adventures of Samophlange Skitterwidget

 The Surprising Adventures of SAMOPHLANGE SKITTERWIDGET

(As Related by Himself.)



'''Volume I:

The Goblin Robbers'''

 In the Year of Wild Magic I had grown weary of my life of dissipation in Athkatla; my riotous companions had forsaken me and left me alone to endure my remorse for a misspent youth.

My Mother was most pleased to see me fall out with that band of Louts and sought to recruit me to the family business of Tinkering & Alchemical production. Although my prospects were good, I could not envision nor accept an Existence spent inside a soot-filled Laboratory, with no wonders to behold beyond four walls & a work-bench.

To her great disappointment, I refused my Mother's offer of apprenticeship. Though no doubt an honorable Trade, Tinkering was not a life suitable for a restless Gnome such as me.

I collected together what meager Belongings I had and booked passage on the first caravan leaving Athkatla that very same Daye. I considered&mdash;briefly&mdash;booking passage on a seagoing vessel, perhaps to distant Chulte, but on previous occasions I had found the life at Sea disagreed with my constitution. I took this as a sign from the Bitch Queen and kept my boots firmly planted on Land.

The first caravan out of the city was bound for a Land called the Delimbiyr Vale, supposedly a Frontier in the North as yet untamed by civilized folk. As excitement and adventure were my primary aims for this Journey I immediately paid the caravan-leader for passage all the way. My modest Allowance afforded me a position as a Passenger, that is, I would not be required to work, but nor would I travel in Comfort. Indeed, I was consigned to the cart of a Turnippe-merchant who had started his Journey in Memnon. Though he was a fellow Gnome, his Odour was that of an Ogre, and his interminable Turnippes did not emit a pleasing smell either. -1-  The next Monthes were spent in utter Tedium as the caravan leisurely rolled through Lands already civilized and safe. Although I had never set Foot outside my native Athkatla, these areas seemed little different (albeit more rural and rather less charming). I almost hoped our band would fall victim to an ambuscade of Orcs, if only to make the Dayes more exciting. Even the Cloud Peaks, said to be home to clans of both Giants & Ogres, was a relatively pacified affair at the present Date. The only hint at excitement came from an episode in which the entire caravan was halted on the Warning of one of the guards, who had spotted the remains of a dead Goat on the wayside. As he told it, Goats were a favored snack of white dragons. Yet neither I nor anyone else could see or hear evidence of any draconic Beast, and so the caravan soon resumed ambulation.

There were times, when I lay buried under an avalanche of Turnippes&mdash;a daily occurrence&mdash;where I questioned my decision to leave Athkatla behind. Certainly, the life of a Tinker (or indeed, an Alchemist) was devoid of much excitement, but at least I would not have to endure these Infernal tubers. In these times of doubt, I sought refuge in the Literature of adventurers past. Though their tales made little mention of the tedium of travel, I reminded myself that all of these Heroes must have no doubt endured it. If I craved excitement & High Adventure, this was the price I would have to pay (beyond the monetary, of course).

As the caravan inexorably meandered towards the Delimbiyr, passengers & workers both left and joined our Procession. I could spot no obvious characters of interest among their number&mdash;these were common folk whose Values & Interests skewed toward the safe & the comfortable. Needless to say, I did not invest any time in making their Acquaintance. -2-  The only other incident of note on this Journey to the North came when the caravan reached the stretch of the Trade Way where the haunted Trollbark Forest lay to our West and we could see, faintly in the East, the famous ruins of Dragonspeare Castle. Yet no Spectres came out from the old Fortress to greet us as the wagons rolled by, nor did any Trolls emerge for an attack (nor had they at the supposedly dangerous Trollclaw Ford&mdash;I was beginning to suspect Trolls were shy & timid creatures that feared civilized folk). Still, these were famed sites of High Adventure, and the sight of them filled me with Anticipation for the future.

Once our procession had reached Daggerford (a miserable little Village), our course soon changed due East as we set on to the Delimbiyr Route. I enquired the caravan-leader for information on the area we were heading into, but he simply told me he did not know; he was getting off in Secomber and the rest of our Journey would be led by a halfling named Master Merrymar.

After Secomber (another miserable village), the new caravan-leader took charge. I wanted to ask him questions about my destination, the city of Loudwater, but the man looked haunted & most taciturn. Instead, I impressed upon the thrice-damned Turnippe-merchant to move our cart further up in the procession so that I could study the landscape more intently and keep abreast of any exciting developments.

As it turned out, I did not have to wait long. Not long after we had left the Hamlet of Zelbross, as twilight rapidly approached, Master Merrymar sent a message down the caravan warning of a possible Orcish ambush. -3-