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The audience was enthralled.

Tmuwo made his way cautiously through the dark, and then had a thought: I think I can cast a spell. He concentrated on the flickering pattern that was Will-o-the-Wisp, and channeled his kremm energy. “Son of a Troll! It worked!” A flickering blue light appeared at one end of his kalimba. With the added illumination, he was able to move a bit faster. After a while, his spell-light went out. He made his way on, and noticed that the tunnel was widening and tending upwards. He came around one more corner, and noticed that the darkness wasn’t so deep ahead of him. The darkness lessened until he could see the walls. And the passage widened and widened . . .

Mahrundl snatched up SilverHorn’s cape as he ran by it. “Hmm, this is nice.” He slowed to fasten it around his neck and Taran passed him and got a bit of a lead.

Taran came out into a large room. The floor was strewn with bones. The Uruk had a thought: A hefty bone could make a decent club. He searched around toward the left, passing a fountain with a skull in front of it. It didn’t seem to be an Uruk skull, so he had no interest in it. About the time Mahrundl entered the room, Taran found a bone that would work.[1]

plenty of bones to choose from

Mahrundl split off to the right. He passed a fountain with 2 skulls in front of it. He really didn’t feel like taking a drink. He searched diligently for a way out of the room . . .

SilverHorn slipped into the crevice he had found. It was tight going at first, but then widened. As he walked along, he noticed the dimly glowing moss on the walls – just enough to provide light to see by, not enough to make any useful shadows. His foot slammed into something. “Ow.” Looking down, he saw that he had just kicked a human skull. More careful examination showed various other bones all around.

Then he heard a growl behind him. Looking back, he saw a small, filthy Rock Troll leering at him. At first, he thought it was Gimor, but this little Troll actually had muscles and was much uglier. “Hello, food,” said the Troll, advancing menacingly . . .

Meanwhile, in the room with the swords, Middleclaw grabbed the small sword almost as soon as Gimor let go of it. He heard a voice in his head saying, “Are you truly hopeless? You shall be tested.” He tugged at the sword, trying to pull it out of the stone, feeling that tingle of magic going up through his hands and arms.

The loud voice that everyone can hear began to chant as Middleclaw smoothly but slowly pulled the sword out of the stone, “Strength: unworthy! Constitution: unworthy! Intelligence: unworthy! Wizardry: unworthy! Luck: unworthy!” Dexterity: unworthy!” Charisma: unworthy! Speed: unworthy! You are truly hopeless!” booms the voice, “and the sword is rightly yours!” [2]  “I have the sword!” howled Middleclaw. But just as he turned to flourish it, he saw a wall of rock slide across the tunnel behind him, and heard another wall moving. In front of Rrraff, an opening was appearing – an opening that led into a large, rather brightly lighted place . . .

Gimor had wasted no time in trying to grab the Hero sword. “He heard a voice in his head saying, “Are you truly a hero? You shall be tested!” He felt a surge of magic run from the sword up his arms, and a voice began to chant, “Strength: unworthy! Constitution: unworthy! Intelligence: unworthy! Wizardry: worthy! Luck: unworthy! Dexterity: unworthy! Charisma: unworthy! Speed: unworthy! You are far, far from hero material,” boomed the voice with a nasty laugh. Still Gimor felt as if magical energy was entering his body, and it was.[3]

Middleclaw has emerged the clear winner in this room . . .

[1] He now has a 3D6 bone club.

[2] Middleclaw missed 8 L1SRs and gained 62 E.P. He has the Hopeless sword – it is powerful magic and gets a large number of hits in combat, modified only by Middleclaw’s personal combat, adds 0.

[3] Gimor gains 10 more points of WIZ from the one saving roll that he made, and gets 60 A.P. from the saving rolls. Wiz becomes 24 for Gimor.

Racer Profile Number 6

Rrraff – “No, you’re Racer!”

He’s a little short for a Troll, but that’s because so much is bent under. His large feet help him move fast, or at least repel enemies via the stench. Not an odds-on favorite, but this plucky Troll might just have a few tricks up his sleeve. Too bad that he won’t actually get to have any sleeves.

Official talent: Running


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