Confessions of Childerbert Ingoberger, Locksmith - Session 49
The following is an IC summary written by Bert's player.
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So, we sets off through the woods, and blow me if some frightful hobgoblins is haunting these woods. Now, Oi gets to the woods te drop me gear, ready to fight, when one sees me, so Oi closes on ‘im, well, ‘ee didn’ ‘spect tha’, coney ‘as teeth as well as skin, see.
See, ‘bugger swung his ruddy great chopper at meh, an’ Oi ducked under, as loike, an i’ chopped itself inta the ruddy tree, fast as loike. Oh, larf, Oi was fit to burst, happy as a coney in a cabbage partch. So’s, Oi thunk to meself “Childerbert, yeh’ve got this long streak o’ coney piss roight wheres yeh wants ‘im.
An’ Oi grabs ‘is legs, and swing ‘im to the ground like a jack felling lumber. Oh, the tall ones don’ see it coming when the little folks remind them that we’s all stood on the same ground, and we needs to keep our centre. Crash! Down ‘ee goes, an’ Oi’m over ‘im like a rash on a leprous coney. An’ blow me, if there aren’t three arrers in ‘im from that Elf, oo’d come to save big ol’ Childerbert first and foremost: sees, ‘ee keeps ‘isself t’isself, all quiet an’ surly, loike, bu’ when push comes te shove, ‘ee’s found of ol’ Childerbert an’ ‘is Childerbertin’ ways.
Now, this buggering ‘Obgoblin, ‘ee was still kicking, loike, so Oi locks im down, and drags ‘im inter the dirt, an Oi applies some of the ol’ pain locks, an’ blow me, if ‘ee don’t go limp in moi ‘ands like a lettuce in the rain. So’s, after Oi finished ‘im orf, Oi goes running on inter the fray.
See, Miao ‘ad lost ‘er sword, an’ she were struggling up close an’ friendly loike wi’ an’Obb. Bu’ Oi sees Sister Miriarm, lying there I’ the dirt, all bloodied an’ lying under some dyin’ ‘Obb; an’ oi thinks to moiself: “Childerbert, that’s a reverend Lady, ‘b the Lady, and she’d be awful disappointed if ‘er favourite young Childerbert didn’t put all grease t’ the lock to go save ‘er.
So’s, over Oi runs, and Oi starts to riffle through her kit: seein’ as Oi knows she ‘ad medicine’ll supplies, an’ Oi reckons all fer one an one fer all: what’s moine ‘is ers an’ what’s ‘ers is mine. An’ Oi pours ‘er best potion down her sweet neck, An’ then Oi sees Darvin take a fearful smite.
Then, in a blink of an eye, the Elf ‘as done ‘is work, an we all sets to partching up our wounds. Oi didn’t take so much as a scrartch.
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So, we sets off through the woods, and blow me if some frightful hobgoblins is haunting these woods. Now, Oi gets to the woods te drop me gear, ready to fight, when one sees me, so Oi closes on ‘im, well, ‘ee didn’ ‘spect tha’, coney ‘as teeth as well as skin, see.
See, ‘bugger swung his ruddy great chopper at meh, an’ Oi ducked under, as loike, an i’ chopped itself inta the ruddy tree, fast as loike. Oh, larf, Oi was fit to burst, happy as a coney in a cabbage partch. So’s, Oi thunk to meself “Childerbert, yeh’ve got this long streak o’ coney piss roight wheres yeh wants ‘im.
An’ Oi grabs ‘is legs, and swing ‘im to the ground like a jack felling lumber. Oh, the tall ones don’ see it coming when the little folks remind them that we’s all stood on the same ground, and we needs to keep our centre. Crash! Down ‘ee goes, an’ Oi’m over ‘im like a rash on a leprous coney. An’ blow me, if there aren’t three arrers in ‘im from that Elf, oo’d come to save big ol’ Childerbert first and foremost: sees, ‘ee keeps ‘isself t’isself, all quiet an’ surly, loike, bu’ when push comes te shove, ‘ee’s found of ol’ Childerbert an’ ‘is Childerbertin’ ways.
Now, this buggering ‘Obgoblin, ‘ee was still kicking, loike, so Oi locks im down, and drags ‘im inter the dirt, an Oi applies some of the ol’ pain locks, an’ blow me, if ‘ee don’t go limp in moi ‘ands like a lettuce in the rain. So’s, after Oi finished ‘im orf, Oi goes running on inter the fray.
See, Miao ‘ad lost ‘er sword, an’ she were struggling up close an’ friendly loike wi’ an’Obb. Bu’ Oi sees Sister Miriarm, lying there I’ the dirt, all bloodied an’ lying under some dyin’ ‘Obb; an’ oi thinks to moiself: “Childerbert, that’s a reverend Lady, ‘b the Lady, and she’d be awful disappointed if ‘er favourite young Childerbert didn’t put all grease t’ the lock to go save ‘er.
So’s, over Oi runs, and Oi starts to riffle through her kit: seein’ as Oi knows she ‘ad medicine’ll supplies, an’ Oi reckons all fer one an one fer all: what’s moine ‘is ers an’ what’s ‘ers is mine. An’ Oi pours ‘er best potion down her sweet neck, An’ then Oi sees Darvin take a fearful smite.
Then, in a blink of an eye, the Elf ‘as done ‘is work, an we all sets to partching up our wounds. Oi didn’t take so much as a scrartch.
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