Smuggins: A Memoir

[Red Monkey]

Greeting future reader!

Technically this could be a diary or a journal or even a set of notes but any of these given enough time becomes a memoir.
And as benefits a memoir, as long as it is not discovered for years, entries that could be considered evidence for the court become stories fit for fancy dinners.

So if I'm not dead yet put this down right now!
I may have coated it in contact poison and you have a few minutes before death! You dirty peeper.

But if I'm dead nevermind, you have to do that chore daily and your perfectly safe, happy reading.

[Red Monkey]

Oh it has been a busy busy few days....too busy by half.

I have met alot of the natives so far....from Ifion the bard (and a quick chap he is) to Ilsarian run-by healer..
The local area has stinkbugs, zombie lords, lizard folk...the list goes on and on. Even Halfling mercs...good god!
Despite a sucessful journey into the crypts with paladins and rogues and one into the sewers with the finest fighter of dwarven stock in the total balance Hlint is a nuthouse.
Yes dear readers...a nuthouse.  Despite danger and teamwork and plesant atmosphere...these poeple cannot get it through htere heads Halfkings do not like *child* remarks.  We do not like to pandered to..and generally dismissed.  If my temper boiled quicker I know I would be in jail at this moment fro gutting one of these poor fools.
I don;t call eleves "Giant Faeries" or Dwarves.."old man" or any of that nonsense.  I will call a fool a fool and lovely as lovely as take lumps for it but that is what a real hero does.
I have no outstanding debts written with my mouth, that's for sure.

And I cannot go into specifics regarding the disturbing about of....how do I write this?
"Love that dare not speak its name"
Yea, that's it...nature is on it's head in Hlint.  Makes a man cry...openly...into his Bock.

And it all ends with me....dealing with the void twice over...once due to chance and the second..well let me say that if a trap does not get removed in front of this arse...it will be justice.
Got to get it through some skulls that COMMUNICATION is a wonderful thing...like saying "Coming Through!"

Need to get a drink to ease these shakes...I'm far too angry to continue tonight.

[Red Monkey]

I have done what I had hoped I'd never do, killed a countryman.
  Sure the mercenaries rushed the gate at Hlint but why? It sobers you when your own kind is on the other end of your blade regardless fo the reason.  And they were attacking oxen. Oxen?!  Completely daft.  Maybe they had been driven mad by thier mercenary ways or, judging by the coin in thier pockets, wanted to shop in town so bad they lost it.  I will never know.
  But the evening, the evening is another creature altogether.  Meeting Piper and Acacea (again) and even Pyyran (that pompus git) among other was a much better time by far.  Even the exploding mage (I cannot even begin to describe or explain because I have no clue) was in the end a fine person to meet.  The subjects and tomfoolery and wordgames!  Word Games, it's been too long since my last round of *I Spy*, makes a man happy to be travelling it does.
  So now I intend to spit in the eye of my poverty and get cracking.  There are work to be done and jobs to be finished and groups to muscle my way into...heh heh.  I will not be found sitting on MY bum as blood approaches no sir!

[Red Monkey]

Been too busy reflecting on my own bloody deaths the last few days to get a word in on this little page. 
  Travelling companions have been few and far between.  I thought due to my horrible sleeping schedule and wanderlust of late but it's clear I'm a right snob, so enough of that.  There is no way in all the heavens I will get my business off the ground if I am sitting out in the woods checking my chances against a group of dire spiders.  The undertaker will get my gold before I have a chance to enjoy it.......or give it to the alliance in some form of course.  Yea...
  Time to meet and greet, no matter how much my teeth want to jump from my head and chew on thier necks.  I wonder where Acacea is...at least she knows the value of a well spoken word....

[Red Monkey]

Before I drag my sorry carcass into bed I did say I was trying harder....and I did boy I did.
  Stumbled into a group looking for "Vukas's Oil" or somethng like that...missed that particular point.  All these chaps were of a higher caliber that I was certain of and I told them I had little hope of doing my particular thing, so to speak.  They insisted I'd be of use and off we went...to the Grey Peaks....should have know that when you have a Paladin of Toran leading the way...it's gonna get rough my boy.
  Now I've had occasion to wander a bit lately...into the woods and nearby towns...even to Spellguard, on accident, but there was a good reason I was not familiar with the grey Peaks.  OGRES! And something new to me... OGRE MAGI!  Now this group did know what is was doing, there was little error to be afforded us and everyone communicated and did thier part.  I was actually able to stick a blade into a kidney or two...sticking an ogre there wil ruin your armor every time. High blood pressure or just thier height I guess.
  We lost the paladin early....and I still do not know how...and we lost the druid, Ricco a bit later, all the while this oil never turned up on the bodies.  I'm sure there was a sidelong glance my way but I didn't do squat.  That's against decency that is since they were doing the heavy lifting and all.  The ogres kept coming...usually a stray we landed but sometimes in threes and the mages...the damnable mages. These blue skinned fiends threw cold around like there was no tomorrow. After our second run of that rotten valley my tomorrow ended....laughing that is.
  Now mind you...the passing of the paladin was a somber blow...and the druid as well was not good...so we had three mage-types and me...ohhhh boy.  We were all extra carefull and doing reasonably well and about to leave the valley for the last time.  I swear I smelled the bugger behind me...one of the mages' panthers was getting twitchy and I KNOW I smelled the magi.
  My last words were "I Know I smell trouble coming."  Cue a storm of magical missles coming my way out of thin air.
  After the shock wore off I nearly passed out a second time from laughter...can I call em or can I call em?!  Of course good ole mother passed me by, wouldn't be so funny with a "reminder" of my passage eh?
  I think the paladin did get a reminder....if so I hope I see him soon...get him a nice dinner or something....that's a crying shame.

[Red Monkey]

Given that the Wagonmaster in Hlint will no doubt survive my existance, this is for you sweetness...
  YOU'RE A CHEAP BUGGER!
  If a group of people are crazy enough to get down into the depths of the "Red Lights" to hunt down a raider chief and come back with the head...you pay them!  You do not pay the man with the head...you think chiefs grow on trees?  The point was to shut em down, which we did....goddess knows how long it takes them to pick a new one and he may not be big on giving you trouble you *ink splotches* related to the rear *splotch* of *splotch*
  Maybe...just maybe I can find a few people who will assist...and let me hand in the head. But I doubt it.  Hope your wheels fall off.  And I like the taxmistress more, she knows how to conduct business.
  I'm angry because I care.
  On the bright side I did a bit of wandering about and saw some odd moble vines *scoot*, some ogres *scoot scoot* and another blue ogre magic type *scoot scoot scoot*.  And through all of that, Raspberries!!!! And sugar cane!  There goes my boyish figure. I'd consider cooking up a treat or two....but I WILL NOT COOK *Ink splotch, tear in paper*
  Anyway...it's a morale booster to stain my fingers and teeth with lovely berries as I poke holes in my fingers with all my needlework.  Someday I will make something I can actually wear...the conversations you hear for armor around here.....last figure I heard was 8,000 for some leather bought by someone in my standings.. I barely keep my head above water....where is all this money coming from?  So far I find learning my own trade a massive money sinkhole after the costs of keeping healthy.
  I have time, I'll keep this up for the moment....I'd rather not contemplate actually earning the sidelong glances I already get in my profession.  It's a point of pride.

[Red Monkey]

Oh it has been some time since my last chapter entry, but such times indeed! with certainty but the days were amazing!
  First off that Wagonmaster finally coughed up the reward for that smelly goblin chief's head I brought him.  Oh it pained him to part with it no matter his outward smile but I don't care cause I got it in the end. A fine pair of boots that help the eternal footwork needed for my position, worth the wait but not the aggravation. On a better note I have not gotten a single snotty glance when I carry and count out the moneyand loot gained on such adventures, it's about time people knew I don't play silly buggers with fair portions.  Defeats the point don't it?
  Lamenting my lack of general funds I decided to completely apply myself to the issue in the manner only a true halfling can muster, I entered an entertainment competition at the Leilon Inn.  A smashing sucess I must say even if my competition was a bit thin, all is fair in love, money or war, especially money...not usually war actually.  I was surprised my song/tale was recieved as well as it was, given some of the audience may have lacked the character to understand it.  Poor poor humanity, you could use more halflings in your lives. Granted the cash prize (5000 gold!) was a tempting thing but there was also a bag known to lessen the weight a poor struggling man like myself tends to carry.  Once notified about the obvious vote in my favor the bag truly became worth it's lack of weight in gold.  Derrick himself from the Inn delivered the prize while I was about to attempt a postage delivery near Stone....stupid, brave, the mail must go on!
  The vote stands at stupid! Read on gentle reader....
  Perhaps as a grand gesture Mr. Derrick decided I needed escort to the Fort I was delivering to, grand gestures pale in the face of his skill and determination.  I witnessed strange statues and dungeonlike entrances along the countryside. This bodes well for a growing master of traps like myself, I could use these rusting skills at last with a determined group of friends.  We fought against animated scarecrows for the benefit of Mr. Part....there may be a song in that. Then came the mobs of bird faced thugs he called Kenku.  Relentless, magic using, crow headed murderers they were. Mr. Derrick slew a score of them while I kept out of range of his deadly dance with the blade, throwing the occasional dart since gaining thier attention would have meant certain death. Actually it did mean certain death although they had to run like never before to catch me.  Work for your meals you crow faced harrigans! Mr. Derrick did mention that there were far too many there to be right and I take a small amount of solice in that. Very small.
  Even passing through the welcoming dark stopped me not...having thought ahead and attached my will to the local port area it was simple for Mr. Derick to haul me back to my, ah, grave site. Ugh I hate that term, must think of another.  Deliver the mail we did and also look for lost cows...and as I sumised that loosing a cow in the Fort Rilara area is certain death for the cow.  In this case...Griffon Chow.  Oh but the fields, the rivers and the beauty of the surrounding land...and all the pretty things to be found in such areas...my new bag worked wonders for fine furs other such geegaws and gimcracks. And my share....incredible...and put into the local bank with the speed of very speedy things!
  At last time grew short for this grand journey and I took a reluctant leave of Mr. Derrick as he went forth to scout the area of Stone for continued enemy activity.  I did find my self back at Mr. Part's farm to deliver a final letter in the timely fashion only a halfling can produce.  It also seems I have exusted the needs of Krandor and Hlint in that area or work....huzzah! My feet, tough as they are were a bit tired of fleeing shadows and worse out in the wilds.
  And in that town of Krandor I was unfortunate to meet Chanda as I found out here name to be later.  A "high" preistess of a murderous god by her own admission, she was a real ray of sunshine.....in the high desert.  Saying the gods care not for halflings? Watching me fight for my life against what I am told is an Assassin Vine.  Just nasty and vile and preoccupied with maggots in her speeches.  Thankfully she has not the wit and guile of a halfling so we parted with myself in the decided advantage of the conversation. Is it wrong to want to slip a blade into her corrupt organs?  Does she talk a good game but never cross the line? That would be sick indeed to shut yourself off from everyone just to act the evil siren.  Hopefully I will get the full story someday soon and a lovely bounty to bring back her head....or at least help.
  With all the events of late I find myself looking at them as stories to be shared, after the boring bits and pieces have been trimmed of course.  Maybe a joke, maybe wild running skit. To be a true bard or continue to play about as I have so far.....it seems a waste and a great amount of fun at the same time. Decisions decisions. Oh and I have made another step on the road to Master Tailor!!!!...*scribbles....scratched out and illegible*
  Well I don't hurt my fingers as much.

[Red Monkey]

*various doodles involving geometric diagrams of buildings and apparently tunnels...*
  Interior connections for small villages may improve defenses in case of a raid...but not against ants or giant moles.  Are there giant moles? Investigate.
  Record peoples feet sizes and footwear, if it is as different as I suspect then it could become a great way of tracking miscreants on the scene....Perhaps free foot rubs could work...nooo.
  *Quite a few columns of figures, most of them not adding up and crossed out*
  Other than problems in getting a supply of silk....tanning oils and acids are expensive. I don't have an aptitude for alchemy but I guess I have to try again, only way my tailoring can make any money for me.  Get big gloves and cheap helmet in case I spill dangerous items or have another "Blue Cloud" incident.  Maybe someone knows about spider repellant, it sure would help.
  Ohhh never forget the sales and gifts of components for Arcanists...connections pay down the road ya know.  I want better armor...or something...bloody peers are getting fancy blades and other sily gimmicks. Should I start trying to build traps?  Every group so far loves rushing into battle...keep an eye out for the tools needed anyway.
  Find some way to make permanent flowers....wood? Fabric? Or something else frilly and pretty in case of meeting evil ladies again....I believe it may paralyze them, for a few minutes at least.
  Finish up song book....print book clearly for immediate use.
  get milk and eggs...
  Finish new clothing...NO Purple!
  Put out the cat.....get cat and then put it out.