Return of the Hydra: prologue

Matundes Visions VII

Apparently, I’m getting the wrong visions, because I certainly did not expected this last turn of events. Our dwarf (this we did already know) and our local fat-ass are sons of Bloodbeard and Straton the Abstinent… (no no no, not like that dirty mind… women were involved)…
I Should have known… never trust little or fat people, they always try to overcompensate for their deficiencies…
Luckily, they were not very interested in the plans of their originators to be taken over, and will fight another battle with us against the black midget and the pale stake…
lets get on with it and out with the treasure…

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Matundes Visions VI

We decided to split up, because we still had a lot of miles to cover, and very little time to do it… I went with my lovely Kallithea and Ragnar the tortoise to the necropolis…

For once we had no problems following the track, maybe the nearness of the river helped, or maybe not being led by Charis and using our own abilities and skills did the trick…

Anyways, we had no big difficulty getting to the necropolis, where we overheard a gathering of warlocks of all 4 tribes. Apparently the tribal wars that are going on on the peninsula are being orchestrated, and shifts in alliances directed by the resident Lich…
All mighty warriors, warlocks and other niggers were being turned undead and an army of undead is in the making in the necropolis underground. We also learned some more about the persons to be sacrificed by the tribe of the twins and that the necropolis-underground would be next to empty on the night of the big celebration.

Because we where only three, and the warlocks and Lich where accompanied by a lot of animal companions (especially the bee-swarms scared my little darling), we decided not to attack there and then, but to follow the tracks of one of the warlocks retinue we found…
We arrived at the camp of the big ones, where we met some old friends we helped and saved in the last battle, and convinced them to attack the camp of the twins. They were naturally easily overrun, and we squeezed some information about the twin tribe’s major village and the whereabouts of the captives out of them…
After this little hors d’oeuvre we set up a trap for the warlock and his bodyguard, and they also were dispatched with no great difficulty… and gave me the opportunity to highten my strength with the chieftain’s belt…

Next we went to inspect the bridge we had to cross to get to the assembly-point with the other half of our party…
At first sight the bridge was only guarded by one fat motherfucker (did you notice that fat people always tend to have a malign and unfriendly complexion?) who challenged one of us for a duel. Ragnar went to teach him a lesson, but trickery was in play, because 2 invisible priests were healing the fat bastard as he fought and bled… At this point Kallithea and I intervened and after some difficulty (lots of rain to be expected in the following days), overcame the fat bitch, his priests, some turtle-warriors, bards and archers…
A large road departed from the bridge and in the distance we could make out a white hydra-head…

Because we were well on time, we decided to go ahead towards our companions…
We had a little difficulty dealing with a swamp, but at last were able to get out, and slay some huge spiders on the way which caused me to become even more powerful, and the only level 13 character in the party (eat that you fat motherfucker, if I am not mistaken you are about 10.000 exp behind)…

Now lets get to the rendez-vous and the treasure at last…

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Matundes Visions V

Oh Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeees… at last… she’s mine, my precious…

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Matundes Visions IV

Yeeeeeeeeeeeeeees, for once almost everything went well in this last battle…
if you don’t count my innitial stunning by that foul vuvuzela-playing ba(ste)rd…
and my balance-problems…
and OK, I lost track of Ragnar‘s goldpurse because I was transfixed on the key for Kallithea’s chastity belt…
but you have to have priorities in life…
and I did find the key, so now we’ll see what she is made off…

But the most important event in this battle was the downfall of Simonides. Of course the filthy faggot (which turned out to be correct) had it coming… all those people he (had) murdered and tortured… In the end I myself had to give the finishing stroke, because my meek companions had reservations… I didn’t, he deserved it… many times over…

Before his demise we learned a lot of interesting things about him and our partymembers… the family feud between Charis, Kallithea and Simonides, the problems that haunt Ragnar‘s family, foul-mouthed Kallithea’s virginity (not for long)… a lot of interesting information to think about…

… but in the back of my mind, I can’t stop thinking that in all the dealings I had with others lately, a latent racism in all non-negro humans (and non-humans) seem to be more common than not, even the more gentle ones… I don’t understand what they have against us… I know these Hydra-Ademorrans are savages, but not because they are black…
at least Kallithea considers me a real person… let’s go find her and get my reward…

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Matundes Visions III

Great battle my ass…
and that part of me was about the only part that played a part in this skirmish…
and only because it was beying whipped…
That skeleton was a bit much to chew on, but thanks to the help of my companions I was able to get up and deal some damage in the end. Even managed to kill a damn big rat and another skeleton…
I even think I collected enough balls to upgrade my shield… they will look pretty pinned down on there and some will think twice about attacking me… knowing that if they loose I will adorn it with theirs…
Great balls of fire… hmm (musing) come to think of it, that sounds a lot like a coat of arms…
lets see what we can get out of the rest of these spoils of war… maybe a nice shiny shirt…

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Simonides' thoughts

Simonides was getting a little worried. It could be weeks before the Kernian authorities would finally send a rescue party, and even then, would they know where to look? It was clear to a man of his learning they were on the shores of Ademorra. Why in the blazes that drunken fool Brugal had ever sailed this way, they would probably never know. He hoped the ghouls were already feasting on the corpse of that so-called ‘captain’. More than 100 miles south off route, could you believe it?
That morning they had seen absolute proof of their location as a band of black warriors attacked their camp. Another of his men died, pierced by poisoned arrows. He had lost more than half of his bodyguards now: three had sailed away in the night of the shipwreck, never to be seen again; one was eaten by ghouls two nights afterwards; another one was killed yesterday, devoured by the biggest crabs Simonides had ever seen. These Killer Crabs did not only eat the fallen: he guessed his four remaining bodyguards still had ten toes…together. His advisor Demokles was also not amongst the lucky – the Crabs ate one eye, his nose, an arm and half a leg. The unfortunate fool needed only a parrot to turn him into a true pirate.

Simonides found himself thinking a lot about pirates lately, and not only because his advisor was now wearing a hook, an eyepatch and a wooden leg. Didn’t the rumors say Pirate King Bloodbeard buried his treasure somewhere on the northern shores of Ademorra, guarded by blood-thirsty black savages, sirens and sea monsters? Well, he finally had the chance to search these shores for himself, but the circumstances were less than favorable. He would have prefered to bring at least a small army, not four toeless bodyguards and a crippled fool. O yes, he should not forget an idiot sailor who somehow survived (despite Darwinistic Law I: non-party members always die first) and three charmed niggers. With such an army he couldn’t even take on a band of kobolds, let alone face the dangers of this ‘Hydra Peninsula’. And the biggest threat of all were not the Killer Crabs, the cannibals or even the Killer Crabs, no, it was that ragtag band of adventurers led by that old woman.
He was certain he had seen her before, long ago. Whatever were here reasons, her motives were very clear to him. You didn’t need a +15 on sense motive to guess she was out to kill him. And somehow she had managed to rally all his enemies against him: that over-pious, law-abiding idiot Ragnar; pirate & treasure-hunter Matunde; another Shairran fatso blaming him for recent taxes on date-expired chips and home-made mayo; and last but not least even his own daughter Kallithea!
It should not surprise him. Did not some Kernian poet say “varium et mutabile semper femina”? He remembered his own poem ‘on women’, written long ago, when he was still young and bored to no end by his marriage with a disgraced witless wench. She was just like her daughter Kallithea, Simonides thought.
“Some type of woman the Gods made
from a horse with flowing mane
Such a wife is beautiful to look at for others;
for her keeper, she’s a real pain in the ass”

And what about his nemesis, that old woman? Hmm, it wasn’t hard to come up with some lines:
“Made from an ape, her face is hideous,
this woman is total laughingstock
when she walks through the village.
Undesirable in every way, sex-crazed nonetheless
but every man who climbs aboard her
will get seasick soon!
She plots the whole day to see how she
can do the greatest harm.
A man can’t stop her, not with threats,
not by knocking out her teeth with a stone!”

He even suspected that fatso to be a woman also, the type the Gods made from a pig, a hairy sow
“she knows no useful skill, except to eat
Unbathed, in unwashed clothes,
she reposes on the shit-pile, growing fat!”

He should write this stuff down. Maybe future generations of scholars would be remembering him, long after his corpse had been looted by greedy adventurers…

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Theron's Musings 5
A view into the mind of an irritated genius

“Bloody guts and entrails!” Theron cursed loudly, not realizing he had slipped once more into the all too familiar pirate lingo. With a flick of the wrist he contemptuously killed another of the small buggers with a cantrip. Those scurvy dogs and lily-livered landlubbers had landed him once more smack in the middle of the crab basket. For days he had been slogging around this island not getting one step closer to the treasure. And here they were again in some bloody temple trying to rescue some bloody masked fool. In different circumstances he might have been content showering licentious comments on the scantily clad and well-proportioned female warriors that seemed to inhabit this place. But the last days had taxed his already limited patience. His good humour had been steadily declining and he had not failed to notice its effect on his companions. They seemed to resent his constant snide remarks as they daintily capered through this godforsaken jungle. He couldn’t care less. As far as he was concerned they could all go to Hell and be buttfucked until eternity by Baphomet himself. He could only hope that killing that fool Simonides would provide some of his companions with some sort of spiritual catharsis. They seemed to be the kind of mental weaklings who needed this sort of thing from time to time. He himself would not bemoan the leech’s passing. That was for sure. But his death would be nothing but yet another distraction. And as time ran out he could ill afford more of those.

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Ragnars Mijmeringen

Determined to deal with that treacherous Simonides for once and for all, Ragnar marched with a steady tred through that accursed forest. Today he would get rid of it, today was the day, Ragnar thought, finally!
However, the Almighty Kern would not be Kern if he did not put Ragnar to the test once more… Two females of that inferior race came running towards them, begging for help. Apparently the self-proclaimed high-level cleric, The Masked One was in some deep nigger shit! Damn it, it seemed that vermin Simonides would live a little longer than Ragnar anticipated. ‘What was the life of a good character heavy labour,’ he mused ‘, the bad guys just do as they please, while I have to save every self-proclaimed level 15 cleric…’

Soon the temple appeared before them, together with a bunch of ‘skeleton monkey’s’ aka
more niggers, soon aided by ‘a whole shitload of minions’, as Matunde put it. Their own big nigger seemed to feel an insupressable hatred towards the little buggerers. Very interesting, but Ragnar had other things to worry about. “Damn it,” the centurio cursed “, what kind of infernal moron has put me in the back with my 20 feet movement, while the high movement guys placed themselves very tactically in front?” War tactics were a rare gift, certainly for niggers, women and guys too fat to have seen their own Johnson in the last decades. Ragnar reminded himself his allies held no real blame, genetically burdened as they were.

After four rounds and a lot of ‘keep breathing, that’s the key’ and ‘we paladins are natural sprinters, very dangerous on the short distance!’, Ragnar reached the battlefield. With his help the hooded mummy guarding the entrance was soon disposed of, as wel as those skinny niggers (except for Super Minion, giving Charis and her 3-attacks-per-round the finger for a great deal of time). Ragnar, boosted in movement en strength by the lovely fat Theron went into the temple, killed some minions then killed another mummy weakling and killed some more small nigger minions, for good measure.
But Ragnar was too late … the cleric level 20 was fallen… and Ragnar stood alone against 3 level 9 spellcasters, 2 level 4 archers, two mummies, and 10 minions, while his three allies on the other side were still fighting one single Skeleton Warrior… Kallithea seemed to be mortally afraid of her opponent and his ‘Silencer’ Longbow, the bane of every vuvuzela-player.
He should not expect too much help from his allies, Ragnar thought. Son how in Kerns Holy Name would he rescue that level 25 cleric?

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Matundes Visions II

We found the burning temple, it was under attack of some undead and a shitload of minions…

Ragnar seems to be a real minion-slayer once he catches up with the rest of the party (somewhere in his pedigree an ancestor must have humped a tortoise or something).

We were guided to the temple by some negresses, and encountered and rescued some more in the temple, but to no avail, because they died as fast as they popped up. A shame really, because they were quite shapely formed… but ultimately they cannot be compared to the lovely Kallithea who’s well-formed body and white flesh seem made for … (trying to keep my mind to the task at hand)… Maybe I can make her my first of four wives …

Fat wizard Theron is starting to annoy me more and more, and not only because he poisoned me. All day long he is muttering and complaining… but he has made a vital point in that we need to concentrate more on Bloodbeard’s Treasure… imagine what I could do with all that gold… I will help him in convincing the rest of the party to make more work of the treasure, and maybe afterwards I can administer a poison of my own, and introduce him to our third degree cousin Mukara “Fatty” Mwana Kitoko who likes his boys fat and pouchy… I need to have a word with Charis about that, maybe she has some resources…

But back to the task at hand… we are about to enter the inner sanctum of the temple and a big clash seems to be ahead once more … charge …

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Matundes visions

It is unsettling to have to kill your own kind…
but what needs to be done, needs to be done… and after all, they started it… kind of.

I noticed that Ragnar fellow going through those black barbarians with something I can only describe as glee… damn Kernian bastard. I only have to close my eyes to imagine him skewered on my spear, apple in his mouth, carrot in his rear end, roasting in his armor above a sizzling fire… but he sure knows how to handle his sword and shield.

You don’t have to take a very close look to see what a strangely composed party we are : a fat wizard with some cooking skill (still have to get back at him for poisoning me, but even my spear would break if I tried to roast him), a megalomaniac dwarf who thinks he’s human, an old lady who asks questions, but gives away nothing and of course the lovely Kallithea (sure whish I could skewer that one on my spear)… strange how things go…

I wonder what the future will bring us… Last night I had a dream about a burning temple near a swamp and a forest, I don’t know if this means something, but it left a fearful aftertaste…

Lets see if I can get a bite before we try to track further on this unforboding island…
and that asswipe Ragnar can better hold his tongue, no bitch is calling me a nigger… damn ugly bastards, all of them…

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