FROM THE JOURNAL OF ALEXANDER MANNING
- The Bouttreax Incident, Part 2: Shit Gets Crazy -
Take heed and bear witness to the truths that lie herein - for they are the last legacy of that Thrice Cursed Minstrel.
warm, pink liquid, the nectar of my Potioncube, melted into my veins:
And so the madness began. I blinked for a few moments, my eyes blurred
and swam... I blinked again, curiously affected by the lamps in the
room... and soon realised that the nightscapes through the windows were
visible to me, as clear as day! This potion did not poison me, thank
Three, but granted me with vision to see in the night! Fantastic! I
declared this boon, and described the Lord's land by way of proof. The
crowd seemed curious or skeptical... I excitedly ran from window to
window, enjoying this new magic, as challenges and amazement rang out
behind me. Inspired by my courage, The Lord's Squire, full of wine and
youth, eager to prove his valour, tumbled the prism and drank from it's
gift. He too stood blinking for a moment before a cry of joy burst from
him! “Huzzah”, came the cry and he soon joined me at the window, where
we drunkely highlighted owls and the rodents they hunted. Murmurs filled
the room, which soon turned to arguments and challenges. The name
'William' was heard more often than any other... Brilliant!
William sat, with a curious look on his face... Presumably the man was
threatened by the risk, but unwilling to allow himself to be upstaged by
his young and reckless squire. He looked deep in thought... Some
moments passed... And “FINE!” he said, “DAMN YOU ALL! FINE!” he stood
quickly, finishing his drink.
“You cretins... I had better not
regret this!” he grumbled, rolling the cube prismly across the table. It
crushed glasses and unsettled desserts, but soon stopped, revealing a
simple glass potion-vial. He walked confidently over to the potion that
sat atop, uncorked it and swallowed the pink liquid. All watched as he
coughed quietly and then looked quizzically in my direction... He flexed
slightly and grinned at me..
Sir William, Lord of Castle
Bouttreaux, Knight of Wessex. This somber gentleman, mad with angst and
vexation, robbed of his youthful vigour and filled with a wonderfully
wholesome wine, did grasp the nearest chair (unceremoniously unseating
the shocked fellow using it) and flung it hard against the wall,
shattering the piece. “I FEEL YOUNG AGAIN!!” he roared! He stoutly
kicked the dining table, upending it and several guests besides, and
wielding his chair leg as a fine Feierlander battlecane! Obviously
possessed by the eager spirit of some Knight Errant, and most certainly
filled with strength of a Malgarr Hearthguard, he set about shouting in
manly rage and dismantling any non-human in the room! O, dear reader it
was wonderful! Chunks of chair and ripped paintings lay strewn across
the room in mere seconds, such was the Strength of William!
guests were either outraged, uproariously entertained, or helping. Poor,
unseasoned Chezmerelda fled the room, ostensibly to pray. Lady Susan
seemed intrigued by her husband's impressive and uncharacteristic
display of masculinity. Several of the men were taken by the occasion,
snapping and crushing things alongside their lord... William roared
again, words this time, and summoned one of the Wizard's Danish
Men-At-Arms. The Castle Chaplain was inspired by this display and
gleefully drank a potion from the cube. He let his own drunken cry and
lifted a chair, only to realise that, instead of manly strength, the
concoction had left his entire body covered in a hardy and flexible
wood. He paused for a moment, confused and obviously disappointed by
this development... he laughed, shrugged, and hefted his chair out a
nearby window. The glass shattered just as someone else was struck by a
bowl of Coleslaw.
Once food had been identified as legal riot
currency, some spicey pigeon quickly and forcefully found it's way into
one of the heretofore outraged ladies' bodices, the latter, furious,
promptly throwing a fistful of custard at the offender. From this moment
forth, there was neither sane nor sensible soul in the holding. The
rough and muscular Dane, Olaf (or Arnoulf?), soon appeared in the room's
doorway, where he was instantly borne to the floor and pummelled by a
maniacal Sir William. This proved a catalyst of sorts, for it turns out
this warrior was something of a Berserker! So he bit Sir Williams hand
broke the poor Lord's nose with his forehead. Sir William let fly a
fearsome roar, and beat the man harder, their tussle spilling them both,
bloody and brilliant, out the door and into the courtyard. A large
crowd grew and cheered, watching as this primal display grew bloodier
and more hilarious. Smiling quietly to myself, I poured another glass
and trotted after the chaos.
Everyone who wasn't engaged in
their own mischief was enjoying the wrestling, which had gotten
completely out of hand... there is blood and drink flying everywhere..
at one point this Berserker was ramming the lord's face into the
cobblestones as Sir William struck repeatedly at his Danish Saddlebags.
Both were grinning uncontrollably, Olaf between winces and William
through a rictus of blood and sweat. Utter madness. The wooden-chaplain
had started an impromptu betting ring. He met my gaze through the crowd
and smiled broadly. I took the opportunity to be insulted. No, dear
reader, there was no reason for this save pure joy. I throw my shirt
aside and charge through the gentlefolk! Coins and tickets burst into
the air as I wrestle the Timberly Fellow to the ground, smiling and
smushing his face with cold mashed potato.
At some point in our
little match, several of the menagerie toward the back of the crowd
spontaneously fall asleep... No-one cares, obviously. It was uh...
rather grand though. One of them fell so hard that she shattered her
nose on the pavement. Hah! Such fun. Whilst distracted by this I..
uhh... I don't precisely know what happened, dear reader. Suffice to
say, I ended up wrestling the Lord William himself. Both of us were
covered in blood, food and laughter. The old man was incredibly strong
(potion? Note to self – investigate) but my training with the People's
Peace Corps of Feierland County (PPCFC), and my time wrestling with
Ronian Crocodilliers put me in good stead.
I cracked half a
dozen eggs on the good lord's face, and whilst reaching for some more I
saw the lustful Dane brutalising the poor chaplain. Brutalising, I say,
and I promise you the word is not an exaggeration. I strongly feel that
his wooden countenance was the only thing that let him keep his eyes
that night. Noble and loveable reader: The cheers were deafening.
I say here, that if the cheers were defeaning, the screams they turned
into were positively unbearable... for as I stuffed a housecat into
William's mouth, some unholy and Smokey Demon casually tore the arms off
of That Diabolical Minstrel of Story Stealing Morality! Hah! Wonderful!
A hilarious and suitably stressful demise for that despicable knave.
Bloody and covered in potato, I roll off Sir William, springing to my
feet. The Horror-Thing is eviscerating the guests. Details are sketchy,
for I was afflicted by alcohol and adrenaline both, and for this
vagueness I must apologise... But the Demon's victims.. well.. there is
not much to bury, I am sorry to say. Apparently this creature was called
'Satan', or so I gathered from several of the guests (Fleeing and
screaming his terrible name as they were). Without jest, It was a
horrible and cruel beast... Relishing in the blood it shed and the lives
it ended. It was, quite simply, violent.
Naturally, drunken and
unclothed as I was, I rushed into the beast and boxed it. It's claws
were rending at my flesh and soul, and it gave as good as it took... I
stuck him with a right as he ripped at my face... I slipped a reaching
talon and landed a short uppercut to it's fiendish chin... The battle
raged! Our struggle trashed much of the courtyard, and I paid for each
stumble with a slicing claw or firey breath. In the end though, my
accurate handwork and skillful movement proved too much for this
The demon forced a clinch, rending my shoulder with
it's teeth... Undeterred, I ripped hook after hook into it's failing
body.. My shoulder ached, but after these crushing blows, Satan
crumbled... the smokey shambler dropped to it's knees, crippled by pain
and groaning a filthy, inhuman groan. I drove a bloody knee into The
Despicable Beast's face, and so ended The Thing. It slowly dissipated,
filling the courtyard with repugnant smoke and leaving nought but a pile
of sulphurous ash. Victory!!!
I cheered triumphantly, but none
cheered with me, for they were all dead or fleeing. Olaf was apparently
and gleefully tieing the Chaplain to the ceiling. I stood, arms raised,
but a little sad that something so unbearable as this 'Satan' character
could spoil such fun... Without warning, I was grasped from my back and
dishonourably suplex'd to the ground by a seemingly rejuvenated Sir
William! That squirrelly rogue! Three curses on his devious tactics!!
Our struggle resumed! Blows were struck and positions changed to and
fro... but, much as I wish otherwise, I honestly could not tell you who
won, dear reader! The drink has gotten the best of me this day, for all I
remember was waking up to a delicious breakfast of Eggs and fruit. Oh
FROM THE JOURNAL OF ALEXANDER MANNING
- The Bouttreaux Incident: Part 1 -
It has become startlingly apparent that these dreams I've been having
of a wondrous, almost Feierlandic Castle name “Boutrreaux” are, in fact,
real. I had thought they were a dream, for the week that I had spent
there had introduced me to some wonderfully quirky and highly
entertaining Noblepeople. Marvellous! I appreciated their generous
offers of drink and accommodation as much as their recognition of my
nobility. Equally pleasantly, my natural charm and strange tales had My
Sexy Zimbabwean Wife Adia and me entertaining various Noble Ladies in
particularly intimate ways. The majority of my Multiversal Manipulations
have been assuredly horrible, thus it took some convincing for me to
believe this part to be anything more than a nice dream.
ramble, and a dream it most certainly was not! For one morning, after
another Adventure-Dream-Horror, I entered the dining room to find none
other than that unscrupulous clothman, Uggs, standing smartly in the
opposite doorway! Wearing robes! That pompous fiend! We exchanged a
masculine embrace and shared stories of our travels and fortunes. He had
informed the butler of our friendship and gained lodging in this
exceedingly fun holding. During this conversation I learned, happily,
that some stalwart midget had arrived, leading a wagon full of wine no
less! A boon from The King Of Turns! O, what a glorious time! I
immediately resolved to hold a party.
Tired from his undoubtedly
arduous journey, Uggs retired to his room whilst I set about
preparations for the revelry. I had My Persian Boy, Abu gather My Sexy
Zimbabwean Wife Adia and some of the ingredients from my room... I took
them to the kitchen, where I ordered the Castle Cuisiniers, under
supervision of my lovely wife, to prepare a warm and exotic feast for
the household and its patrons. Also they were to add wine and spirits to
anything that could handle them.
Shortly before dinner, everyone
is seated. There is enough wine to drown a rock and the wonderful and
exotic scents of the food waft gently into the hall on a pleasant
breeze. Everyone had a certain energy, all full of joy and excitement,
like puppies... I can only assume they were full of the life of a
pregnant moon! Earnest conversations spread liveliness and mirth through
The wine starts to flow, and laughter with it. A
variety of breathtaking meals were served, the warmth of the spice and
the curiousness of the flavours amplified the joy in the room (My thanks
to Adia, who looked positively radiant in her new jewellery). The table
is cleared and replaced (by who, if I recall, might have been Elsa?
From the Desert? Strange times) with more wine... and a little something
I had been saving for precisely then. Mightily, I swept aside some
glasses and tossed my Polyhedral Potioncube upon the table.
Conversations halted and gasps preceded my words. I bade all heed, and
told them of the dangerous and mystical floating desert of Sanctum,
above Unity: the Kingdom of Faerie Elves. I shared a tale of the dragon
that flew me there and the Fae Queen that gifted me his use. I regaled
the strange culture and sinister surrounds of a sun-drenched town and
the swarthy merchant from which I bargain'd this brilliant artifact. I
told them of it's previous owner (the tinker's own brother), and of the
joys and power it brought this long parted Adventurer. I finished the
tale with how this cube, bringer of liquid gifts and taker of precious
lives, ended up being the story of this Desert Man - the story of his
life and his tragic death.
I paused. I rolled the prism.
Gesturing to the vial which now sat atop it, I dared this drunken,
energised rabble to drink of the thing! To trust in The Three to reward
their courage! “Fortune favours the brave”, I bellowed! My Persian Boy
Abu handed me the first potion, and I quaffed it with a flourish! Jaws
hung open and all eyes watched me. There I stood, the magic coursing
through me.... The silence in the room was beautiful.
reader, if ye taketh offence to profanity I implore thee to turn-page...
For only the profane doth verily capture events from said evening. A
Party To End All Parties. Kind reader, take thy seat and make
preparations, for I continue this tale from the quaffing of that first
Ladies and Gentlefolk, I must share the truth of that night. Please trust me when I tell you:
"About a week back some godforsakenly ugly one eyed zealot came round
the blue rabbit looking to break free one of his comrades from prison.
Some cleric had a run in with the sister of the lady of the lord and was
now locked up in castle Bouttreaux. He was looking to assault the
castle. At first I thought, this fool is gonna get a bunch of folk
killed. What was there to gain going on a suicide mission? Why not sneak
in? Hell, don't know why you'd bother if you couldn't loot the place...
wait a minute. Did he say castle?"
"Half a plan started
formulating as I introduced myself to the zealot. Uggs, a self
proclaimed man of negotiable faith, brought me in to his group, where I
met his companions Elsa, a not so trustworthy looking archer, and
Alexander Manning, an explorer of some sorts. The guy might've been
crazy, but he had a knack for finding folks willing to rush of to their
doom and we were soon joined by an aspiring magic user named Rellyck,
and Rubro a traveler with fists like steel. Before our first meeting I
had my henchmen buddy go on a stake out to see if I could turn this half
a plan into something worth the time."
"The castle was not so
heavily guarded, and Buddy managed to get a solid enough list of who was
who staying in the castle with that I proposed to Uggs a little side
venture in route to breaking out his friend. The plan was simple but
needed some work. First those of us who were new to the area would gain
the trust of the Lady Susan and the Priest of the castle to determine
where the prisoner was located, and more importantly the existence of
"Elsa proved to be resourceful, not only getting the
priest to spill the location of the prisoner, but bedding the Lady Susan
and gaining admittance into the castle itself. Alexander took a similar
route and easily wooed her sister, Chezmerelda becoming a welcomed
guest at the castle. They were able to locate the loot, and pass on that
information while I went around town ensuring we were properly equipped
for the heist. The next day I arranged a meeting with the great wizard
James so I could work on getting myself and Rellyck into the castle
before the heist as well."
"I've had a few trade deals with James
and he's always seemed like a wizard of great wealth. Rellyck would be
our inside man, and I introduced him to James as being a magic user
looking for an apprenticeship. Rellyck was not trusted right away
unfortunately but sent on a quest by James to procure magic unknown
before he could begin his apprenticeship. Either way we had an in as I
scheduled to personally deliver a giant marble and ivory globe and solid
silver giant gecko head in exchange for a magical item to Castle
Bouttreaux in just two days time. By the time I got back Uggs had
already worked out a way to bring in the rest of the crew."
as a high ranking cleric, Uggs bought a fancy carriage, and acolyte
clothing for both Rubro and Buddy who would act as his bodyguards. The
morning of the delivery they arrived to the castle to visit his "old
friend" Alexander Manning. By the time I arrived all the pieces were in
"Along with my delivery, I ensured I had more than enough
ale to get a party started, and hidden aboard more than enough bombs
should something go wrong. Having an ale with James as the sun began to
set I let the guards know that drinks was on me. Soon enough the Lord
broke out his wine reserves and the party began to rage in the great
hall. While I worked on getting the inhabitants of Castle Bouttreaux
nice and stinking drunk, Alexander began passing around and drinking out
of some sort of cube. Next thing you know the Lord starts smashing
stuff yelling that he hasn't felt this young in years, and so I pass him
another mug of ale and start thrashing the hall alongside him."
a brawl breaks out between the Lord and one of Jame's bodyguards
spilling out into the courtyard. Everyone starts cheering and the whole
hall goes outside to witness the most epic wrestling match I've seen. In
the crowd I run into Uggs who wants to move now. Looking around in the
surrounding chaos the party got way more wild than I expected it to, so
quickly I ran to the carriage and brought sleep bombs up to Rubro and
Buddy and let them know it's time to start looting."
what happened next as when I ran back outside to assist Uggs something
came over me and heavily I fell asleep. Last thing I saw was Alexander
punching out some treeman in priests clothing. You probably heard the
rest of the story same as I did from the nobles the next morning.
Beautiful thing is they did not suspect a single one of us, as some time
after I lost consciousness Satan himself showed to the party and took
the rap for the whole thing."
Bite the Bugbear died tonight in the Hill Cantons. Plummeting to his death 600 feet below when the rusty chain snapped in the old outdoor elevator that was carrying him to scout a lower level. The body was unable to be recovered.
A wake will be held this Friday at dusk.
All FLAILSNAILS PCs are welcome, and any wishing to to leave heroic or fearsome words about this vicious henchmen are encouraged to do so.
In lieu of flowers his close clan mates, Stinky and Hairy, encourage PCs to bring goats to be slaughtered or enemies to be burned on a pyre. As is tradition among his people.
The Management of the Blue Rabbit/Le Lapin Bleu
Father Jack has been so kind as to provide a homily on this most sad of days.
The prices of drinks also have been declared half off for the night.
Those bringing an enemy to through on the pyre or a goat to slaughter will get their first 2 drinks on the house.