The Small Hamlet

Shilliam Waked-spear's adventures in voyeurism ACT 2

Some fairly creepy letter found laying on the ground in the village...

I awoke on a pile of dead lice this morning, my goodness those filthy creatures are nasty. Rubbing my eyes I perceived in my peripheral vision the party I have been pursuing for days now leaving the temple that I have dubbed the Nighttime Agran Gardener Boy Love Agreement church, the title based on some odd interactions I may have witnessed between that armored woman and the priest youngling as they do not allow ‘evil’ beings within it’s walls, oh the irony. Doing what I usually do I trailed behind the group of the lizard, gardener, god, and child boy.. Wait didn’t he vanish at one point? Eh, who cares, I still haven’t brushed off my hog-musk which holds a higher priority.

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A lake came to block their path after some walking, or at least those were my suspicions before they dived straight into it, I followed, considering my monthly bath taken care of.
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I emerged a couple minutes later into a cave beset upon with bountiful amounts of flora and shrubbery, the moist air felt more saturated than my oxter cavities, which reminded me that I needed to gyrate them with my wooden pit-spoon immediately to maintain a temperate level of humidity. By the time my under-arm folds were thoroughly rustled, I looked up to see the group communicating with a short fungus born individual:
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GARDENER: Hey did you kill this guy
SHROOM: Yep
GARDENER: angst
SHROOM: Yep
GOD: Pulls out knives
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And then some fellow with a bush on his shoulder and a bow showed up out of absolutely nowhere, he may have been in the corner the whole time or he may have not, I honestly don’t trust this man, I will call him George. I am not akin to whether or not the plant has a name, but it would presumably be one fitting with an agricultural or plant-esque theme of some sort. Rambling aside the situation looked tense, and it really got out of hand when the gorillas came, two specifically. The bold Gardener and Lizard took on the gorillas, meanwhile George shot arrows at the wall several times and the Demi-God slung greasy slime everywhere from his fingers and threw a knife or something. Also at one point when things were especially hectic a couple of flying impish mushroom things came out from under a table. What strategic pantheon would have had the intuition of putting a whopping two avian fungus bulbs under the dinner setting? This mushroom was a force to be reckoned with. As the gorillas fell down, slain as if one had rocked the structure, God retrieved a knife he got stuck in a wall, an orange dragonborn rose from the lake we all had entered in and just stood there with a blank expression, and a stray arrow from George whizzed by everyone and unceremoniously took the life of the mushroom man. Sir shroom laid there, and dissolved even more anticlimactically into a grody mush.
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The group met with George and incorporated him and the bush which had happened to speak in a smooth and somewhat charmingly deep voice. I did not question this at all. Also considering he was the one to have gotten the kill, George was allowed to sift through the remains and retrieved a big stick and a rag, exciting. This was not put into question, and neither was the orange dragon that I have bestowed the title of “ORANGE MAN” after they exchanged a short conversation with him. As the group began leaving the cave, I proceeded to enjoy the remaining mush as a lovely dinner, what can I say? A hungry dretch is an unproductive dretch!
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I swam back to the entrance and pursued down the path that they were headed down, heading sideways into the underbrush to get ahead, and stopped in my tracks as I heard a galloping noise. My severe mental trauma from (reading about) the Horse-Pig wars of XXXX returned with a vengeance, as I drew my blade to confront the hideous beast behind me I was awestruck as an elderly man in leather and tights, holding a lance and a shield stomped along right past me, appearing to be chasing down the group. I gripped my pen and prepared to take notes as I was majorly let down as the man stopped in front of the party and announced himself. His name was Donk I believe. Donk had a look of conviction, like he was preparing himself for the best and longest speech ever told in the history of valor and stopping people in the middle of the road. He was shut down as most of the group ignored him completely and moved on as well as Orange Man kidnapping him, a somewhat sad sight. As the collection of strange individuals entered the town of Agran, I needed to head into the forest for a moment, as a tremendous as my back-ham was the harbinger of one sloppy harangue of my inner being that felt especially painful, more so than usual. Bowel movements aside I turned around to marvel at what beast I expulsed this time only to be met with shock and horror that three doppelgangers, each the exact size of myself, emerged from the polychromic slurry I dropped onto a stump. I attempted to communicate with them but they did.. Not seem to operate on my level of knowledge but did know their mission as well as mine. I remembered the said mission and in a hurry hoisted up my bermuda shorts and scampered into the town, my clones following me. Running, I came down upon the street just in time to see the party split, so I came to a wonderful plan.
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They all seemed to have varying mental capacities but for the most part they were competent as I ushered their orders. Entering the hamlet the group conveniently split into three groups as follows : 1. Gardener and God, 2. Orange Man, and 3. Donk, I had absolutely lost track of the guy with a bow. Utilizing my new assets I gave each clone a piece of paper and a pen and gave them the task of recording the actions of the separate groups, and they went on and followed like the loyal servants they should be. I took a break and enjoyed a lovely brew at the tavern, I saw the blue dragon playing a flute that wasn’t there as a man wearing nothing but a tactical shemagh tipped him a few silvers. My loyal subjects came back after a while and led me to the now together party as I read the results…
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Spear-Spear
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the guy was naked and then he put wood on an anvil and it wasnt wood anymore and
then he put on a sheet of metal it was nasty also did I mention he was arrested it was kind of sad also he bullied kids so not that sad I liked his mustache
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. ~love Spear-Spear
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Spear-Spear-Spear
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WIZARD- GARDEN STICKS AND STUFF, SHEP OWNER WITH BIG AND LITTLE SOWRDS AND HEAVY BALLS VERY HEAVY BALLS OH YEAH AND I SAW A GOST IT WAS SCARY SHE SAID SOMETHING TO WIZRAD AND DISSPAERED
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Slagathor
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DRAG -;p][ RING SLOOP
DRAG_ + AHHHHHH
PINKBEER + /;[[./>{} AHHHHH
DREG ;[=\ AHHHK!!
PINKBEERA :"’ PORATAL!
DRUGS – OOoOOH!
OLD LDAY &^& CHRITSMAS IS ME SUN!!!$
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I am somewhat proud of my children.. so very proud, especially Spear-Spear, that was some fairly elaborate penmanship …
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…For him.
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Continuing on this journey I went on to follow the group and they sort of… stopped? As if they were left at a ghastly cliffhanger (for about a week) and just stood there blankly staring ahead. After that they walked on like nothing happened, Donk went back to the town to go do things, not exactly sure what? But nobody really cared and eventually some pink-beard man with drinks was on a hill with a shiny suit fellow talking about exchanging potions or something, I believe they mentioned dragons. Suddenly God shouted and the whole gaggle (minus the Donk) swarmed around Pinkster and demanded satisfaction. They received nothing of the sort except for a neat little trick involving a potion made from a rag the bow guy, whom I completely did not know was there sweet B’hall he made me jump, had. After they hassled the huckster of brews for a bit they moved on, befriending the knighty man and heading to a nearby village that might I add indeed put the ‘lit’ in ‘hamlet’ where, as I have seen before, the Gardener had met a couple of friendly Gnolls and presented unreasonable propositions to them, which ended in her killing them for sport, typical of a worshipper of dark lords and flowers.
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Out of nowhere Slagathor let out a gurgle and fell to the side. I moved in for closer investigation but his body exploded in a grotesque eruption of soggy and discolored organs, I was kind of shocked but Spear-Spear and Spear-Spear-Spear didn’t seem to be fazed whatsoever before they too, collapsed and snapped into the likeness of a processed cylinder meat-stick. The next hour I spent burying myself three times over, and by burying I do mean dumping the bodies into a well around the center of the razed area. Bad feelings came over for a second as I heard some snarling creature consuming them, well, waste not want not as the saying goes..
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After a few select tears of mourning I located the party spread out between a few houses, must I say those were some convenient windows allowing me to see into the first building where it appeared to be Gardener and God speaking with a heftily equipped holy-man. Off to the side was seen Orange Man diving into the fire.. For… I honestly have no clue. Also coming to mind was George, that slippery rat had disappeared once again, where he goes remains an enigma in this one’s mind. Moving on the blue lizard, Gardener, child, Donk, and for the love of god it’s George entered one odd building. They seemed to be playing freeze tag on a chair so I wasn’t exactly interested, but turning my head for one second and back yielded one unsettling display of the Gardener toying with dolls, Donk screaming about a twisted toe he now possessed, and that dog George straddling the lizard. Much confusion later the crew went back to the husky house (paladin abode) to talk about stuff and things with a sick man while Orange Man, Tin Can, and some other fellow with a bow sort of loitered outside twiddling their thumbs as well as Donk who just stood there. Some garbage plot later everybody left the building and from what I see Donk is going into the house, no idea what he is doing but I feel weary from these travels and shall leave this writing right here on the ground in the middle of nowhere, maybe adopt a dog, henceforth my life will be dedicated to astronomy, for I am finished with this, this metaphorical potion of scouting is too strong for me.

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