The Adventures of Ganakh and Co.

[Ganakh]

This will be a series of short stories about the adventures of Ganakh and those he meets along the way. Note, I will only use the names of actual PC's with permission, so anyone feel free to send me an e-mail to jeshure@gmail.com to submit ideas/permission for use. I am hoping that this will eventually become a joint venture with Ganakh taking a backseat to it all. Thank you.

The warm Akanbarian sun beat down upon the youth's head as he toiled alongside the menfolk of his family in their fields. The high palisade walls of Merridan could be seen to the south, and whilst they brought some measure of comfort, the older boys and men still carried what weapons they could afford or make themselves.

A woman's voice barely carried on the wind, and yet like a well trained squad of soldiers at once all the workers cast down their hoes and pitchforks and started making their way to the large homestead as of one mind. All except for one.

While the rest of his family enjoyed the midday meal with each other, feeling safe and secure in the midst of each other, one small boy was carefully picking his way north through the trees. His friend Thom had said there was pearls to be found just off the shore, and he mean to find them and save his family from this destitute lifestyle. Or himself, at least.

The humid green forest was a welcome relief to the sweltering heat of the fields, and in moments the youth forgot about looking for bandits or goblins and started to whistle, enjoying the time alone away from the back breaking work which his brothers were undoubtedly getting back to about now.

Suddenly a foul stench forced their way into his nostrils, and with animal instincts, he leapt into a nearby ditch. He huddled there for what seemed and eternity, straining not to make a single move as he waited for the Goblins to go past praying to all the Gods and Goddesses of the Pantheon that they wouldn't smell him.

*** TO BE CONTINUED ***

[Icarus]

Ganakh story

Off to a damned fine start. I cannot wait to hear more of your tale.

[Ganakh]

The strange and scraggly procession slowly passed, cackling amongst each other. Two of the larger ones carried a struggling shape one a pole between them, and with horror he realised it was a younger cousin of his from a neighbouring farm. He waited with bated breath for the last filthy creature to pass before sneaking out of his hiding place.

A brief battle within raged. Riches, or family. Riches, or family. Suddenly he grinned, a not entirely pleasant grin. Why couldn't he have both? Chuckling to himself at his cunning, he drew his small belt dagger and began to sneak after the goblins counting on their own stench to mask his scent.

After sometime, the scent of roasting meat told him that he was closing in on their camp. Trying to keep the camp between himself and the prevailing wind, he began to explore the edges, looking for the refuse pile. It was well known that many adventures and travellers fell victim to the goblins, and what the stinking wretches did with the belongings was anyone's guess.

Although the youth would have bet his life that they were close. And he meant to have it all. But there was still the problem of the goblins. Climbing a nearby tree he tried to see the layout of the camp, but the branches were too dense to see much of anything apart from a rather angry squirrel. Batting the chattering rodent out of his way, he climbed back down again and tried to think.

The smell was the only warning he got. A goblin burst out of the undergrowth yards from where he sat, and proceeded to relieve itself. Oblivious to the lad's precence, the point of the dagger suddenly appearing through the goblins throat drew scarcely a sound. Moving quickly, the boy stripped the goblin and dressed himself in it's armour, struggling a little with the heavy sword.

Taking a deep breath, he pushed his way through the bushes into the camp, hoping his disguise would hold up.

*** TO BE CONTINUED ***

[Ganakh]

*** Apologies for the extreme delay. I was called away unexpectedly for an extended period of time. Thankfully I am back now for hopefully some time and plan to continue this thread ***

The stink of the armour masked the boys own scent as he walked closer to the camp. He skirted the unkempt and filth streaked shelters around the edge of the camp, doing his best to match the staggered strut of the goblins. The armour was itchy, but he paid little mind to what diseases he may catch from wearing the thing. He could see the refuse pile now; a midden heap of discarded clothing, weapons and armour too large or unwieldy for the goblins to use and other, fouler things.

He could hear his cousin screaming from somehwere closer to the central cook fire, but he ignored it. The thoughts of gold and richs filled his thoughts, and began to dig through the refuse even as the screams of his kin were cut off in a liquid gurgle. He moved aside a heap of rotting clothing streaked with blood and other stains revealing a small pouch underneath. Picking it up, he grinned when it's contents clinked but the grin was quickly wiped off his face as a screech behind him challenged him.

Turning, he found himself facing two goblins, both with spears levelled at him. Again, one of them screeched it's inhuman tounge at him. Realising the game was up, the boy made an effort to throw the sword towards the goblins, causing enough of a distraction to escape into the nearby trees.

He ran and ran, clutching the purse to his chest, his heart pounding and the heavy armour wearing him down. He could hear the cackling of the goblins closing and suddenly pain blossomed in his back, the force of the spear knocking him face first into the dirt. Screaming in pain and fear, he tried to crawl away even as the goblin wrenched the spear from his back. Fresh waves of pain flooded the boys mind, yet still he clutched tightly to the pouch. He moaned and began to beg weakly as the goblins grabbed his ankles and started to drag him back to their camp.

Then as if by a miracle of the Divine, the hands holding his ankles were no longer there. Other voices were heard, human voices. Looking up, he vaguely made out the image of a man with a bow before the pain from the poisoned spear became too much and he passed out....

*** TO BE CONTINUED ***

[roeshak]

Ahh how I miss eating childen with you Ganakh, you knew exactly where to get them to make their flesh just ever so lightly salted. I think I still have a few kids stuffed in a backpack in the mountains. Probably has frostbite by now though