Not the most promising of starts...

[tabyk]

This story details the one (and only) adventure I played with a Militant Mage character (2nd Ed. AD&D), though I still love the concept that she was based on.  I hope you enjoy the story.

P.S.:  Actual character stats can be found at www.tabyk.net in the "Gaming" area.

    * * * * * * * * * *               * * * * * * * * * *

    Brand smiled as he leaned back in the chair, almost propping
his feet up on the table before thinking better of it.  As if
reading his thoughts, the woman seated across from him quietly
laughed.  Shifting his shoulders a bit he muttered, "I'd like to
see you be comfortable after wearing leather for a few hours..."

    "No thank you.  I'm quiet sure after a single hour I'd be
something quite unfavorable to smell downwind."

    Smiling once again he silently thanked fortune that had made
him swing by the Dragon Tavern before heading back to the
barracks.  Only a few minutes after sitting himself down at a
table and ordering a mug, she had entered.  Lugging a backpack of
supplies, she'd practically screamed 'traveler'.  Taking a look
around the room she'd then marched right up to his table and
asked if she could sit.

    Heh, like he'd refuse...

    In the last 20 minutes he'd learned her name, Tabitha...
Cugi... Cuga... something like that.  The way she said it, with
an odd lilt to her voice, made it sound foreign.  However, except
for an unusual shape to her eyes, she seemed normal enough.  Not
exactly a slender woman, but not someone he'd kick out of bed
either.

    He'd also learned where she hailed from, and the fact that
she'd had a recent falling out with her now former master while
still in her apprenticeship.  It was kind of nice, in a strange
way, to converse with a wizard and not get talked down at in
their usual high-and-mighty tones, even if it was only one in
training.  Easy on the eyes, pleasant personality... he hoped she
didn't leave town too soon.

    "So you were about to say something about your grandfather?"

    Nodding she placed the last spoonful of stew in her mouth,
humming in pleasure, before saying, "He was from over seas, got
stranded here or something, and decided to settle down.  I grew
up listening to him tell stories about famous samurai and
shoguns.  I left shortly after he passed away, as the rest of my
family was not interested in keeping with most of his
traditions."  Frowning a moment she then added, "Even I don't
know most of them, but I hope to eventually travel to where he
came from, to see some of the things that he talked about."

    Dismissing the unfamiliar terms he nodded towards the odd
weapon leaning against the table while asking, "Not the usual
fair for a spell caster, of any sort.  Was that also from your
grandfather?"  Smiling again she reached out and hefted the
weapon in question, coincidently allowing him a better look at
it.

    It was a club, though roughly four feet in length, and from
the way she handled it, made of some heavy wood.  Half of it's
length at one end was covered in rows of short knobby spikes,
carved right out of the wood itself, while the other had a steel
counter-balance that looked like the rope end of a grappling
hook, eye hole and all.  An unusual item, to say the least, but
lethal looking all the same.

    "Yes, it belonged to my grandfather.  He'd wanted my father
to inherit it, but that never actually happened.  When I left, I
decided to take it with me.  From the way most of my family felt,
I doubt anyone even cared."

    Nodding slowly he opened to say-

    -and was interrupted by the sound of an alarm whistle.

    Closing his eyes a moment he silently cursed, before
standing up and saying, "It was nice to meet you, Tabitha.  I
hope we run into each other again."  With that, he started for
the front door.  Still three steps from it, the door was suddenly
thrown open, and he found Glen peering into the room real quick
before spotting his approach.

    "Brand, come quick.  Some folk were just found all chopped
up, and the Sergeant wants you, NOW."  Then, in a quieter tone so
that it wouldn't carry, he added, "Goblins."

    Nodding he followed the new constable out into the night,
now thankful that he hadn't had time to taken his armor off
yet...

    * * * * * * * * * *               * * * * * * * * * *

    Watching Brand and the man who he'd met at the door leave,
she dragged her eyes across the floor as another signal whistle
sounded off from outside.  The change in attitude was stark as
people suddenly huddled together a little bit more, and those
closest to the door suddenly moved to tables a bit farther away.

    Picking up her travel gear she stepped up to the bar, where
the innkeeper was busy washing a couple mugs, and asked in a
quiet voice, "What's happening?"

    Glancing at her the large man replied, "Sounds like someone
got killed."  Listening a moment longer he then added, "More then
one, you can tell by how many whistles are sounding off.  Every
now 'n then we get a group of something ugly crawling out of the
sewers for some fun.  The town constabulary cleans 'em out as
often as they can, but it's damn nigh impossible to get rid of
them all."

    Nodding to herself she then hoisted her pack onto the bar,
and then fished out a piece of silver and dropped it as well.  
"Mind hanging onto that for me a moment?"  Dropping her
grandfather's weapon onto her shoulder she then said in
explanation, "I figured I'd go and see if any help was needed."

    Grabbing her pack and stashing it beneath the bar, but
leaving the money where it lay, the man muttered, "Good luck."

    * * * * * * * * * *               * * * * * * * * * *

    Running down the moonlit street Brand spotted Gerard
surrounded by a number of the night constabulary, while shouting
out orders.  Approaching the grizzled man he asked, "What's going
on, Sergeant?"

    Leveling a gaze at him the man said, "Brand, you're here,
good.  Take two men and check out Singer Lane.  Sounds like we
got a band of goblins on the prowl.  If you see them, signal.  
After that, use your judgment.  Got it?"

    Nodding he turned and, after grabbing Glen and Wilhelm, took
off towards his given beat.  It was 15 lanes up, but it only took
them a few minutes to get there at a jog.  Occasionally, a signal
whistle still sounded off in the distance.

    "I don't like this, Brand.  I don't like this at all..."

    Feeling a little sympathy for Glen, who'd never actually put
his sword training to use as of yet, he replied, "I don't either,
but we've a job to do.  Just do what I tell you and everything
will work out."

    Slowly they traveled down Singer, and after four blocks
Brand caught a movement out of the corner of his eye.  Head
jerking around, he spotted a short humanoid creature, hunched
over, dragging a limp body out of broken doorway by it's hair.

    From his left he heard Wilhelm whisper, "Oh God..."

    Lifting the signal whistle from the cord around his neck, he
blew into it hard, sending out a loud shrieking sound.  Drawing
his sword he blew a second time, and then a third, before letting
it drop from his lips.

    Watching the goblin freeze at the first whistle, by the
third it had dropped the body and faced him, a snarl coming from
it's lips.  Over the next few seconds, almost a dozen more of the
creatures joined the first, all of them brandishing crude short
swords and spears.

    "Let them come to us, boys.  Fighting retreat, we wait for
help.  Nothing fancy, got it?"  Hearing nervous replies from both
sides he readied himself, taking a firm two-handed grip on his
bastard sword.

    With a howl the goblins rushed them.

    And that's when someone, maybe twenty feet in front of them,
stepped out from between two buildings and right into the
creature's path.  With a curse he started to take a step forward,
but at that moment the small figure raised their hands, thumbs
together, and said... something.

    A sheet of pure flame, half a dozen feet long, and spreading
out into a wide arc, exploded from the person's fingertips and
engulfed the two goblins directly in front of them while nicking
a third.  With a scream the two flaming creatures crumpled to the
ground, and the suddenness of the whole situation made the
remaining creatures pause for just a moment.

    A moment the mysterious figure didn't waste, as they reached
behind them and pulled out a weapon, which was immediately
brought down in a brutal overhead swing causing another goblin's
head to explode in a spray of blood.

    It was then, in the dim light of two burning bodies, that he
recognized the weapon.

    Tabitha!

    As one the remaining creatures jumped her.

    Screaming out "ATTACK!" he rushed forward, his sword
swinging, to catch another goblin in it's side.  The sudden
adrenalin blasting through him caused the blade to literally cut
the creature in two, and with a spin he lashed out once again.  
Cutting down a second he suddenly found Glen and Wilhelm to
either side of him, lashing out with their long swords as fast as
they could.

    It was a short and brutal fight, and it lasted less then
thirty seconds.

    As a remaining four creatures ran off, hooting and screaming
out curses in their own tongue, he took a moment to crouch down
over Tabitha's bloody body.

    She had jagged sword cuts down both her left arm and leg,
and the final two feet of a broken spear was embedded deeply into
her right side.  With a sigh, he quietly cursed the damn
creatures for existing, as well as her own stupidity which had
gotten her killed.

    Turning towards his two men, he found Wilhelm down on one
knee; tightly holding his side while his pale face told of how
painful the injury was.  Glen has a trickle of blood slowly
coming off of his right arm, but other then that he seemed fine,
if still in shock.

    Taking a final look at the woman he'd met less then an hour
ago, he stood to take a closer look at Wilhelm when a quiet sound
reached his ears.

    A long, slow, and laborious breath.

    Desperately dropping to his knees he held his face close to
hers, and after a long moment, heard it again.

    "Glen!"

    Hearing no response he leaped to his feet, and in three long
strides grabbed the man by his collar.  "Glen!"  After staring at
him a second, the young man rapidly nodded in response.

    "Find Gerard!  Tell him we need a healer, NOW.  Got it?"

    Again nodding, the man stumbled backward a step before
turning and running off.  Crouching down next to Tabitha's body
once more he finally murmured, "Now I know I wanted to see you in
bed, good look'in, but this is not what I had in mind..."

[Dracos]

It's amusing Tabyk.  I agree, not the most promising of starts.  Personally, I'd have written it in first person from the character you were playing's perspective.  Lends more of an RP'ing feel to the tale.  But it's an interesting bit as it is.

Fearless Leader

[tabyk]

I've a tendency to write all of my character "profiling shorts" from an outside perspective.  *shrug*  It's just the easiest way for me to do it.

[Anastasia]

Hmm...

I liked the interplay between Tabitha and Brand at the tavern. It was a nice way to start the story. I wish it had gone on a bit longer, actually.

Myself, I think this perspective works fine.

Overall, this is a short but enjoyable piece of writing.  If you expand it, you'll really need to add some details.

[tabyk]

I've thought about continuing it, Dunefar, but don't really know what else to write.  To be honest, the only reason the character survived was because the DM was thinking the whole thing had played out so well.  I never actually played the character again, and the game didn't progress beyond this point as the rest of the party had left before I was ready for travel again.

*laugh*

Teaches me right for trying to pull off a stunt like that for the sole reason of, "Well, it sounded cool!"