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  1. #1

    Pouncival's Bedtime Stories

    The Legand of Heroo Flandroval....

    It was a most dangerous time to patrol the moors, Minions of the Enemy had spread like maggots in the past year, darkening the land, making the fear of attack a constant thought on the minds of the people. The great captains of the past were gone. Pulled to battles in the far reaches of the lands or fallen victim to the orc blade.

    No one felt safe in these times. Women clutched their children near and huddled in back rooms of houses heavily guarded by the men folk. What few songs being sung, even by the children dealt with death and the end of all most held dear.
    Having finished the evening meal, the men of the night watch girded their swords, and headed out of GV to patrol the valley near TR. They carried few provisions save some ointments and bandages, and perhaps a small amount of hard rations. This was a hard watch, and one that had known more casualties to their ranks then all the others combined.

    The enemy moved easier in the darkness. Shrouded in shadow they crept upon those stationed to far ahead or behind the main phalanx, leaving little time for help to arrive had the victim been able to get out a cry. Little was left of one that was attacked. What was not hacked to bits was most times carried off in the slathering maws of wargs.

    This night was different. The men of the watch could all feel some little something which gnawed at the base of their brains. Many knew, or feared that this may be their last night on patrol. For this reason during the goodbyes before they left one may have seen a husband giving an extra hug to his wife, a son’s shoulders sagging more or a father drinking in long looks of the faces of the children he may not see come to adulthood.
    Night settle in around the men as they rode slowly through the valley and up the hills towards the old keep. In better days it had been the forward post of the Free Peoples in the battle for the Ettenmoors. It stood bow as sad reminder of days of glory. It those times, Captain Ryan could be seen leading his men off towards Hoarhollow-Warsong and Essence often led huge raids deep into the enemy encampments returning with tales of bravery. But long years of battle take their toll, and the great heroes of the past years fade into legend leaving those still hopeful souls scanning the horizon for salvation.

    As the men rounded the side of the keep, they were ambushed by a huge contingent of orcs, wargs and spiders. Falling back towards the front of the keep they tried valiantly to fight off the onslaught. Many a man saw a friend fall before his eyes, and found n time to lend aid while fighting to stay alive. Moments turned into minutes, minutes seemed an eternity to the brave Free People as they struggled against a foe of superior numbers. All it would seem was lost when from the direction of the river crossing a horn sounded.
    Even the enemy paused at the sound of that horn. Not since the elder days had a horn of that sort slit the night air. Not a horn of alarm, it was a horn of battle. A mighty call it gave, winded by one born to the horse and spear. Those of the Free folk who heard its call could not help but wonder if the Captains long lost to battle had returned in their hour of need. All eyes stayed focused towards the crossing, and through the haze could be seen many mounted men, swords drawn, and shields at the ready.

    As they continued to watch, one man rode forward from the rest. Lifting his self out of the saddle, he stood, feet in the stirrups staring towards the battle near the keep. Eyes as deep the night skies, with a mane of hair tied securely at his neck, Heroo Flandroval gave a loud call, and with another blast from his mighty horn his men surged forward and into the fray.
    There are many tales of the battle that night, and many songs are still sung around the campfires. Those who were there can only recall the feel of the wind as Heroo and his men paste by them, and engaged the enemy. The enemy, dismayed at the majesty and might displayed broke and ran, only to be ridden down and slaughtered.

    The return to GV was victorious, and an air of jubilation not felt for many a year hung over the encampment for many years to come. Many wanted to reward him, offers of riches and lands and not a few daughters were made to him. But Heroo only smiled and said.

    “No thanks, it is all in a day’s work.”

    Many battles have been fought since that day, and many more victories achieved as Heroo lead the good folk of Middle Earth. And all who looked upon his handsome face and heroic form loved him. But it is said that deep within Gramsfoot the enemy seethes with hatred for him, and plot and plan for the day when his carcass can be drug back to their dens, and consumed.
    Last edited by Aedon; Jul 17 2013 at 04:25 PM.
    The Lonely Mountain Band
    Pouncival-Rank 15 aroo-Leader of the Pouncing Pwny
    We Pounce Because We Care

  2. #2
    The Legend of Chilicheese

    There is a time of evening, after the freeps are all eaten and the keeps have settled down to a lovely shade of red. This is sort of a golden time for creeps. A time we can sit around the campfires of Gramsfoot, and tell tales of the battles. Many of these tales center on the lives and times of those great creeps who have cut a swath across the land. Gather close now young ones and I will tell you the tale of just such a great creep.

    It was a long while back, before many of you were whelped, or when some were just pups. Creepdom had lost many of their great leaders, and the tribes seemed in great disarray. Gone were the nights when the great Maggotstew led us forth from Grams to wreak havoc on the tarks infesting our lands. Our nightly hunt for food more often than not ended with a trip to the healers and a lot of bruised egos. It was getting to where the young had to settle for a bit of slug meat for supper rather than a nice tasty hobbit. These were dark times indeed, and some of the elders of the tribes searched for a way to bring better fortune to us all.

    I remember the night as though it was last year. Myself, Attie, Hithy, Tailmange and a few other wargs were sitting around the west campfire. We were roasting a bit of slug jerky over the flames and thinking. It was a bright night with a full moon hanging lazily in the sky. At one point, between bites, Attie exclaimed.

    “What we need is a new raid leader”

    “Well we all know that Attie, but who do you suggest?” said Hithy in return

    “We need someone like Vinlassis, the freep raid leader.” Replie Tailmange

    It was then that I had a sort of epiphany;

    “Why just like Vinlassis, what if we took Vinlassis for our own?”

    We all looked at one another, and in an instance the decision was made. The full moon would work in our favor, and with a bit of real care, we just might pull it off.

    Each of us pulled on a freep skin that was lying around in the den, and then quietly, and stealthily we set out for GV . When we arrived, the usual guards were at the stairs, standing as best we could on our hind legs, we lurched forward and greeted the guards.

    “Evening guards, we are three freeps come to sit in GV. No wargs here, no sir.”

    Do not ask me how, but the guards swallowed it, and allowed us to pass. As we mounted the stairs, we could smell the prey all over. At one point Hithy actually piddled with excitement. One tark passing by spotted the puddle and looked at us. Quickly we blamed it on a sudden cloud burst, and wondered if it would help the rhubarb. This freep was also convinced by our story leaving us to wonder how they were killing us at all.

    Moving through the encampment we spotted him wandering towards the stable. There he stood the great hunter Vinlassis, leader of the free people and reportedly a really good dancer. We did not waste another moment, rushing towards him each of us sunk our teeth into an arm or leg. And of course, being that the moon was full our bite transformed Vinlassis into a werecreep!!

    Oh sorry young ones, did not mean to frighten you. What, you do not know what a werecreep is? Well, when any human, dwarf, elf or Hobbit is bit by a rabid warg under the light of the full moon he is transformed. His mind shifts and becomes rather creepy. But, back to the story for now, sit back down here.

    Tail and I each put a leg under Vinnie’s arm and led him towards the exit of GV. Attie and Hithy followed behind, swaying a bit and singing Sweet Adeline loudly. At the bottom of the stairs I looked towards one of the guards and growled out;

    “Vinnie has had a bit of a snootfull, and we are seeing him outside to puke his guts out.” I said

    And then, almost to our ruin Hithy chimes in with;

    “Yeah mate, and then we’re gonna eat it.”

    Lucky for us, the Guard just laughed and suggested that we all find a place to sleep it off.

    We returned to Grams with Vinnie, and by the time we came through the gate, the transformation was well under way. His hair was a glorious stringy black, and the pallor of his skin was a healthy pasty. Ripping off his clothing, and grabbing a nearby loincloth Sars had left hanging on a rock Vinnie roared, then changed to a cleaner loincloth and hopped on a rock in front of the assembled creeps.

    “No longer will I be known by the tark name of Vinlassis. It is a name of weakness and I am not weak. From this day forth I am … um… Froktuk…no not that… Grishram… no too silly. I shall be known as Chilicheese, and I shall lead the creeps to victory. Gather round now, we are heading to GV. Meat is back on the menu.”

    And so it was that the Great Chilicheese was born into his new life. From that night on he has led us as we lay waste to those who have usurped our lands. And one day, each and every one of you will follow him too.

    Now, off to the den with you all, and do not forget to brush your fangs.
    Last edited by Aedon; Jul 17 2013 at 04:25 PM.
    The Lonely Mountain Band
    Pouncival-Rank 15 aroo-Leader of the Pouncing Pwny
    We Pounce Because We Care

  3. #3
    Join Date
    Jul 2010
    <piddling with excitement> Go Pouncey Go!

    Loving this, please carry on my good Sir

    Love & Hugs

    Fluffy Hithy
    Hithdraug - Former Suicidal Warg Squad

    If I had a penny for every child I ran over - I could maybe afford car insurance

  4. #4
    Join Date
    Dec 2007
    Tampa, FL
    I lol'd......
    [CENTER][SIZE=3][COLOR=#0000ff]Cynfive Cynrion[/COLOR] [COLOR=#ff0000][B]Cynthri[/B][/COLOR] [COLOR=#0000ff]Callun Cynrios[/COLOR]
    Points > Everything
    I am spy


  5. #5
    Join Date
    Feb 2007
    Washington DC
    Awesome stuff! Keep it coming!

    PUPTRIPPZ, former Suicidal Warg Squad

    PALAMARK, formerly known as Wargbait

  6. #6
    Attie and the CIA--

    Sitting close to the fire, the warg-pups watched the flaming embers dance slowly upwards, carried by a steady wind blowing through Gramsfoot. Looking towards where the Tyrant stood, they watched anxiously as the veteran white warg received orders for the night’s watch. As he moved towards the quartermaster, one of the young ones called out to him.

    “Pouncy, can you tell us another story?”

    With a slight smile, the elder turned aside and came over to sit with the young pack.

    “Let me see now,” He snarled “How about if I tell you all about the formation and purpose of the CIA?”

    The pups yapped enthusiastically as Pouncy settled down and began to speak.

    There was a time, in our recent past when we had problems with infiltrators from the enemy. Many nights plans of attack were foiled after someone passed information on to Freep commanders. Many times this led to great loss of life and many huge boo boos. Some of which our defilers lacked the time or skill to properly treat. Many do not know this, but this is what led to Sars becoming a bit shall we say aromatic after he took several arrows and a couple of dwarf axes to his hindquarters.

    We tried many times to discern the identities of those passing vital Intel on, but some proved too cleaver, covering their tracks with the skill of a jackal. Losses mounted and those heading out each night suffered a severe drop in morale. A sort of hopelessness filled the air around Gramsfoot.

    It was at this time, that one young wargess decided to take matters into her paws. This was in itself an unusual happenstance seeing that most of the young females were spending more time updating their Mawbook pages devoting little time to matters of battle and intrigue.

    Ah but this female was different. Dark as night, she found it an easy matter to move within the shadows collecting information on any and all new faces that appeared in Grams. Her quick wit and skill in using the interwebs , which of course was invented by Gobblemoss, allowed her to form a huge databank containing the comings and goings of those suspected of spying. Coming from the family Atuk tul, she chose to do her work under the code name Attie. From the time she came forward with her findings, and up till this day things have changed for the betterment for all Creepdom.

    Now she calls her agency the CIA or Creeps Intelligence Agency, and with Attie at the helm many potentially harmful plot shave been exposed. She can and has within the blink of an eye been able to bring to light those who seek to feed creep plans to the enemy. And on a side note, using this information we have been able to feed false plans to Freep Commanders, allowing us to set up traps, and slaughter the foe at every turn.

    Oh and she is so good at what she does that it is said that even the Great Eyes calls on her from time to time to aid in some of his own plans of battle.

    She sees you where you’re hiding
    So don’t you try to Spy
    Cause Attie soon will find you out
    And report you to the Eye.
    She’s watching for creeps
    Who seem out of place
    Then calling them out
    She’s on every case
    Attie Paws is watching at Grams.

    Now, off to bed with you young whelps, I have a patrol to stalk.
    Last edited by Aedon; Jul 17 2013 at 04:24 PM.
    The Lonely Mountain Band
    Pouncival-Rank 15 aroo-Leader of the Pouncing Pwny
    We Pounce Because We Care



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