Fitch and The Beast

What of that fearsome beast?
The one that came from the East?
Did we heros fall?
Under its maul?
Did his gaping face
tear into us in that place?
Ranger, Dorf, Dewey and I?
We poked that cretin right in the eye.
Unable for him to see,
For us it was an easy victory.
When the last of the skulls we slew,
We now had real work to do.
'Afore again leaving that room,
Many a restless villager we did re-entomb.
Return these souls to rest,
that is what we thought best.
Long we stayed.
And long we wielded our spade.
And when our grim task was done,
To adventuring we returned to have our fun.
But before we got far,
Around us shown instantly a light brighter than the brightest star.
Dewey, the ranger, and the dorf no more could I find.
I looked around and realized I had left the world I once knew behind.
Much to my surprize
I found bars before my eyes.
Of all the places I could befall,
I landed smack amid a carnival.
Neither Allais Bedovar, Dewey Hackenbash, nor Ulfgar were in sight.
Something just wasn't right.
And to make matters a wee bit more absurd,
In the cage next to me was an elf more colored than a bird.
He begged to be free,
It was toward me he did plea.
But here my brain did fork,
For also beside me was a bardic orc?
Into what weird world
Had I just been hurled?
Donned me my cloak of etherial tailor.
Strode through the bars of my material jailor.
Got me pick
Put it to their lock and did the trick.
Ah, fresh air...
But not for long, for we saw the gaurds who didn't want us there.
Did we fools escapes?
How long in freedom would we trapse?
An orcish bard--
that's a tale that will make you thinkest hard.
A polychromatic elf,
that's a story for a humanlings shelf.
But tune in again and you shall see,
A delightful story wroght with glee.
Read again to see how the story goes
This is one you should knows...

A few Hundred Skeletons in the Closet

I'm not dead yet!
Wanna bet.
Here's the game palyed.
Against an army of undead, battle arrayed.
After the bounty at Luck's den.
We returned hastily to the barkeeps daughter afore she met her end.
She was to be sacrificed in a horrid rite
At the witching hour in the night.
We got there,
With zero time to spare.
The maiden's bodice was about to be ripped bare
Surrounded by undead she had quite the scare.
The master necromance'
Was about to end fair Elishia's life's dance.
The unerring archer Allais Bedovar
Concealed himself in the cornar.
The gnome,
He went home.
Silent Suzy,
Went off feeling Woozy.
The druid and wolf that inspires fear.
They left and were out of here.
Our forces were bereft.
Dewey, Fitch, Bedovar
And the sturdy dwarf Ulfgar
Were all that were left.
Amid an undead sea
Bodyless bodies were all that we could see
But it was the ranger who shot first.
For the Necromancer's blood his bolts did thirst.
Straight and true
Evil's blood the arrow drew.
Deep into the 'mancers spine.
Those shots stopped the plot of his wicked mind.
Unerring the targets did find.
Now the maiden we had to unbind.
But between us and her
was an undead blur.
Dewey with his axe
began his hacks.
So did the lad who was stocky.
He bashed so many he got cocky.
As for I
My cloak I did try.
In an instant I vanished from the plane material
into the realm etherial.
In the screams of the dead I was drownt
Here lay more souls than I could count.
No more did the souls bleed,
But for me to give them rest they did plead.
Through the throngs I waded.
I was to save the one who waited.
Instantly reappeared did I
From Elishia's lips a terror stricken cry did fly.
It was then the undead attack,
Imbedded itself deep within my back.
Pick the locks
Their blows I could not blocks.
The thrashings I took,
Such that fair Elishia would be off the hook.
I was weak, but she was free,
Thanks to the bloody back of me.
Into the world of the dead.
We escaped this one and fled.
Into tears she broke,
Whilst staying tightly wrapped in my cloak.
Through the mass
Silently we did pass.
The room of fear
We sought to clear.
We were done,
We left Dewey and dorf have their fun.
But when the last of the of death's minions was no more,
It was then we saw the door.
From it came,
A sight that gave faint unto the dame.
It was a fetid nightmare
that gave her and us such a scare.
In utter pain I was wracked,
Still I drew Isenghast and attacked.
Behind the beast I tracked.
Into his back I sneak attacked.
Off his wicked hoof with my sword I shore,
In a crumpled heap the monster hit the floor.
But raised he again upon his thighs.
Snapped at us he caught us by surprize.
Lest our faces he should maul
Our backsides we did haul.
It was off to safety
to where we did flee.
With the barkeeps daughter we did leave.
We didn't run, of the battle we just took a reprieve.
Upon the maiden's request,
We weary adventurers took a rest.
But finished with that fersome beast,
We were not, not in the least.
Did we slay
The unholy terror on that day,
Or was there a feast,
Upon us by the beast?
I had already died once before?
Will Fitch see Death once more?
Come again
To find what did happen with that demon.
Of more I know you itch?
But read you here again to find out what became Fitch.

Nuclear Fitch-ion

After all the monster in Luck's house of fun,
Were beaten battered and done.
Went we back through for the hidden clues to mine.
In every room we scoured til trinkets we did find.
They were strange and not quite what we were hopen:
A book that would not open.
The afore mentioned pedal.
A statue of forlorn lovers made of metal.
A matrix of only rows.
A story of no financial woes.
A figure looking ready to fight
It was none other than a minature black knight.
And finally a thorn and stem.
Our task was to put it together and figure out what united them.
Entered we the final room.
Get it right or certain doom.
Solve the riddle on our first try,
or face death himself and die.
All around the room were vials of poison.
But between them, every object you could imagine.
Get the riddle right
And we would leave the room that night.
But if we were wrong.
We would be gone.
All the evidence was plainly there
But we had to select with extreme care.
When it comes to solving riddles I am great.
But how could I unite all of the above eight?
Get it wrong and I am dead.
Ah ha, a book that cannot be read.
The pedal, stem and thorn that comes from a flower.
Black as knight is the key for the figure of power.
No financial woes is a finance all in black.
Flowers no lovers ever will lack.
And a matrix with naught but rows.
To the black rose I goes.
Luck is full of quirks,
But I pulled the flower, and found a key that works.
Thanks to a mind that was deft.
Luck's room of horrors we calmly left.
Since we were the first,
To make it through Luck's worst,
Since we had showed such prowess and such skill.
Luck gave to us what we would will.
I am a rogue, a man born and bred of the sneak attack.
This is hard to do for things with organs and a back lack.
A book filled with ways of striking a fatal blow home.
The material properties tome.
From this book I did learn.
All the secrets I did yearn.
Whether foe be alive or nay,
This book show the sneak attacking way.
The proper blow to proper spot.
And with luck, one successful sneak attack you have got.
All of these were gifts we didn't have to give back.
But I also picked up a Heward's handy haversack.
Dewey wouldn't leave til he'd mastered greater cleave.
Also got Dewey, a potion that would make him more potent than even great Hector.
Through Dewey now coarsed immortal nectar.
Dewey could still be killed,
But that feat was made much harder now that each turn Dewey 10 points would be healed.
Armed we now
With greater gear and a better know how,
We set about to fulfill our vow.
Found out we, that while in the den of luck.
Time that night was stuck.
Frantic were we about how we could save the barkeeps lil' lass
But shocked were we when we found that in the domain of Luck, time does not pass.
So come ye again before the nest spin of this great worl'.
To see if we saved that endangered girl.
Read ye more about the where's and the how,
But just not right now.

The story of the gnome's stick

So when last we'd met
We heard of the druid with wolfy pet.
In those carnivals
Within those castle walls,
More fiends and foes we had to best.
Scores of undead who never rest.
With an undead Troll
we did stroll.
One who just won't die, finally did.
At the site of his armor we almost hid.
But we were fighters and had some class.
We burned his bones, and kicked his... glass.
For this I should tell of this undead trollish guy.
He was so vain, he had a glass eye.
And so when said troll was bagged.
In my bag his eye I dragged.
When behind the next door we heard a rustle,
Into a fight with a troop of undead nymphs we did trustle.
Undead nyphms aren't real cute.
Especially when their rotting flesh makes you want to puke.
In their ability for scandalous seductions.
There was noticable reductions.
With quite a few more oddities we did clash.
Myself, our clan, and Dewey hackenbash.
But the best of all, the legend that will be retold as we grow older
was how I Fitch glued the gnome to the beholder.
A beast once know for its fearsome glares
And angry deathly stares.
Now undead.
Were it not trying to kill us it would have been our friend.
But as it was trying to kill us all.
Him a friend i would not call.
In life he was known for his death rays.
Stun you, kill you, and amaze.
But not reduced to bites,
was how this beholder fights.
Tried to chew upon us.
Wanted he us for our guts.
Tried we to jab
stab,
and shoot.
But he did twist, bob, real, dive and swoop.
So a lift by magic I did use.
Tossed a tanglefoot bag and covered the brute in glues.
Now this I did not know,
When the bag I went to throw.
The gnome was hidden behind.
Aw well being glued to the side of the beholder I don't think the gnome will mind.
A sandcastle the gnome made of me besides,
So I glued him to the beholders sides.
Now both were stuck.
The beholder couldn't weave and was easily struck.
But now the gnome was stuck amid the muck.
And when we'd swing,
he tried to sing.
But being glued,
he gave a performance to which we booed.
How he almost died as we did jab.
We almost sent him to the anatomists slab.
But it was the gnome's stick
That allowed us to finish the beholder quick.
Oh and this I should tell.
Of what in each room befell.
In each room we found clues,
but solving them gave us the blues
But listen again all of yous
For I will tell more I promise trues.
But for now I must go.
Read again later for the rest of the show.

Gone Fitching

Far away
we were wisked that day.
The citadel of luck's land
Was an adventure long he had planned.
In a room were we,
surrounded by levers three.
"Pull them all,
take a fall.
From under you the floor drops,
Gasp for breath and your heart stops.
Pull one
have some fun
Pull two
You won't know what to do.
Pull them in the wrong order
and You will face an undead beholder.
Pull them right,
and you will still fight.
But, with new found friends
you will meet your ends."
So we pulled one
to see what was done.
Oh No alas, we Blue it,
ah, but fear not for it was but a friendly druid.
A druid with wolf in tow,
followed him everywhere he would go.
Our blades were ready they were set,
but it turned out to be one Dewey had already met.
Before we pulled the next thing,
Dewey and Herr Druidy gosiped in that mechanical hall.
Reminded of the time when last they met, the druid smacked face first into a wall.
A fersome and ferrousious beast they fought.
Their ends he sought.
The wolf slipped and slid.
The druid would have been better if he had hid.
First the wolf fell flat,
Then Druid Drogon tripped an thudded with a splat.
If that weren't bad enough a third landed upon them after all that.
They laughed and guffawed,
They chuckled, they hemmed and they hawed.
And when their fine memories began to grow dull,
they gave the lever one more pull.
Who or what was it in front of me,
A roughish band I did see.
Beastly Orks,
Armed and bristling with pitchforks.
But alas they were far to few,
Dewey, the ranger, druid, dorf, gnome and me, we pitched them all without much ado.
Pulled it again,
saw the world spin.
Again and again,
each time the room did spin.
But when all was told,
Our numbers now grew 2 or three fold.
Now amid our midsts
We boasted, ranger, druid, gnome, dwarf and sorceress.
Dewey and me.
And a sheep in wolf's cloth.
The furred terror, wouldn't hurt a moth.
Now that our fellowship was complete,
We had a demigogues fun house to beat.
Now we did not all get along together so well,
For some of us it was an adventure, and for some it was ... Just swell.
I don't know why they were mad at me, I am confused as to what exactly I did do?
All in the name of fun I held true.
While they were attentively listening arounds,
I cast a cantrip--Ghost sounds.
I was greatly amused,
But their looks said their egos were bruised.
So to make amends,
I used my cloak to good ends.
On the other side of the dook I did want to peak,
So opened it and went in I did sneak.
When I stepped inside,
I'm glad I had my cloak, for I wanted to hide.
Their was a pit in my tummy,
for what did I behold, none other than a TROOP of mummy.
So I snuk back out,
And we plotted our next bout.
We had a plan, it would work if we could do it just right.
Cover the mummies in Alchemist's fire, then with the help of a well placed fireball, We would make them feel light.
So again I opened the door,
donned the cloak and snuck along the floor.
When we had our positions just right,
we were now ready to fight.
Aft the juice I did pour,
Suzie the Silent, Greatest fire mage of lore,
Tossed she open the door,
WIth a well placed fireball, the mummies were no more.
A single hit,
That was it,
When once there were four
Mummies now no more.
Oh it was great pleasure,
to scratchlessly unearth such treasure.
But soon a box with riddle,
we now did fiddle.
A chest fitted with key,
Were it not for the lock
that did block,
That chest would have been too much for me.
But what was in side?
What was that strange thing we spied.
Not crafted of wood, stone or metal,
What we found was a bicycle pedal.
Surely this is out of place,
Amid the loot of the mummy race.
Of it we thought no more,
but finding its true purpose turned out to be quite the chore.
Ah but our strange journey is far from over,
Quite the contrary, it gets even bolder.
You'll have to tune in
for your jaw will be agape again.
Find out how, an eye socket makes a great holster,
and I'll tell you how the gnome got glued to the beholder.
But for of all this,
You'll just have to wait. For if I told you more, I would be remiss.
On the morrow, return to my story telling niche
and I will tell you more of the Rubiyitch of Jytan Fitch.

A Fitch in Time saves Nine

Listen by
As I tell you why.
Twixt the battles fought o'er the graves,
But before the girl Fitch has to save.
A victory of more undead was Fitch able to boast.
Fought he 'gainst that ghastly host.
A dragon is not one that is easy to kill.
But even rarer is the one that is Undead, sans any frills.
To the death they fought, just for thrills.
Mighty smashes of their tails give Fitch the spills
Not one but two were there,
there to give Fitch and friends quite a scare.
Their fiery breath was no more
So with their razor teeth they tore.
Long against these foes
Dewey, Fitch and the Dorf battered.
Against empty bones blow upon blow clattered.
Making no headway where they,
nearly died and became undead dragon prey.
While The three fellows whacked,
they did not realize that they had been tracked.
Followed were they, by the likes of a high elf.
A great Bowman who thought not of himself.
Allais Bedovar The Unerring.
Joined with us, for he saw our acts of great caring.
Fought with us for he saw our acts of great daring.
So strong of will was he, he could make men cower just by glaring.
Brougth with he, a gnomic Bard.
Though the bard a shortie be, ne'er hath I seen a man fought so hard.
With the addition of elven bow
The bard had naught seen such a glad trio.
Knocked, drew, WHOOSH! Two arrows flew.
Straight and deadly, their path was true.
We had thus nearly died,
but now we had the elf and gnome on our side.
For we were not done yet, for in these parts a great necromancer resides.
As though dragons were not enougha mummified king we had to fight besides.
With flames, and swords, arrows, axes and songs
We launched upon the king all night long.
Erst a while ago
I told you something that just now I did know.
The fact that I am a controller of magical power,
Of this I did learn, only within the last hour.
Right there afore my very eyes,
Much to mine and my friends utter surprize,
A bag that once held dyes,
above the ground it did rise.
Lifting it with my mind.
I realized I had just left ordinary behind.
Though maybe not to kill,
perhaps I could still use this useful skill.
Before the mummy could again attack,
I covered his head with a sack.
while we caught him unawares,
into him with our dirks we did tears.
Break out the marshmallows, for now the mummy was in flames
After that he never quite was the sames.
But, off the mask he tore.
Tossed mi bag to the floor.
For me his eyes spelled doom.
Smacked me so hard he send me across the room.
His rotting visage was filled with hate.
smacked me
so well did he
That briefly I did levitate
Until I hit the wall
Hazy was the rest, for after that I don't remember much at all.
After counteless blows from us adventury chaps,
we finally had that mummy under wraps.
But the news for me,
it wasn't good you see.
After that might thwop,
I had but minutes till I would drop.
For afflicted was I, with Mummy rot.
I had but 5 minutes till dust would I be here upon this spot.
It was really not in my plans
to be turned to sands.
I had my wand for making me invisible,
But Dewey had with him, something even more essential.
Gained in one of Dewey's earlier boughts of sport,
He picked up an amulet of teleport.
Gone in a flash,
he didn't even stop to loot the Mummies cash.
Off he went, ever so quick,
To go find a desk cleric.
A friend he had,
Hoped soon he could get to him, for me it was looking bad.
Oh how Dewey tried.
But on that day I actually died!
An Ego it definately hurts,
To be turned to various dirts.
The gnome wasn't swayed by the hastle.
He was quick to turn my ashes to a sand castle.
That day I suffered from Turrets syndrome.
I just wanted to be me again and go home.
But that day, fortune was with me,
For as you see
I would be lost if the slightest breeze blew.
But Dewey returned with a Cleric to do a resurection true.
From ashes to ashes and dust to dust.
Thanking the cleric was now a definate must.
I was dead. I had died.
Yet thanks to a cleric, I had survived.
He did not blame, he did not point fault.
All he asked was for me to find what was hidden in the king's vault.
That vault, much later I would explore.
I would make a discovery worthy of lore.
But the monsters we had to fight there were still more.
Well gaurded was this dungeon.
It was as though the necromancer created concoctions of creatures just for fun.
Before further I should go.
There is this you should know.
I noticed I now had an eerie gray glow.
The others noticed it also.
I discovered when I awoke,
I now had what appeared to be an etherial cloak.
Because I had died,
I was now blessed with a cloak from the other side.
Enrobbed in the garb of a ghost,
for 10 minutes I could turn etherial is now a feet I could boast.
The beloved priest,
I thanked him a thousand times at least.
He could not stay,
it had already been a long day.
He had to go.
It was again the Dewey, Dorf, Fitch and friends show.
Now at last the stage was set.
The girl we could finally get.
We would never have thought,
The strange thing that next befell our plot.
By a minor god we were next waylaid.
Into the hands of the God of luck, like chesspawns we played.
Before we could save the maiden like we sought.
Time temporarily did stop.
Through space and time we were suddenly hurled.
We were now in Luck's gambling world.
But what happened here,
was rather queer.
But later you will have to read,
To find how much more Fitch does bleed.
Read again,
To find how Fitch saves his skin.
Does Fitch give death another try?
Is the maiden saved or does she die?
So, tune in tomorrow,
Find out is it a tale of joy, or of sorrow.

A town unlike any ever found

To know more of his plight your heart yearns
But fear not for Jytan Fitch returns.
Voyaged we into once an orinry hamlet.
But now the town is dead and couldn't handle it.
A town devoid of fools,
yet wrought with ghouls.
Every single citizen,
now death's denizen.
A borough of skeleton
townsfolk as ammunition.

Woe unto a rogue that tries to sneak attack,
the creature lacking a back.
Crossbow bolts, and arrow shots
simply rattle within the undeads rib slots.

But of this you can trust,
Dewey and the dorf turned the fiends into dust.
Twas at the cemetary
to where we did tary.
Those undigging the graves
quickly we dispatched with our blades.
Within that cemetary plot, amid those grave sites
Unhatched we a more sinister plot of ancient rites.
The barkeeps daughter maid mention of in earlier fights.
In but hours she'd be dead in all rights.
Off we ran to the bar to make wrongs right.
No fiends we saw so we hid amid the barrels that night.
We hoped to catch them in their act
Leap from behind the barrels and stope them in their tracks
Me with my sword and Dewey with his axe.
We got each other we had the daughter's back.
Or so we'd thunk.
Aye but through the window they'd snuk
Our plans foiled,
A maiden's inocense nearly spoiled.
When we realized what had passed,
we rushed to save to stolen lass.
Long we traced the damsels trail.
We would not lose we had to prevail.
Plunged we into a cave.
Fear we surpressed to be brave.
Filled with grinning skulls ranting.
An army of undead chanting.
An aura of gloom filled the room.
Spewed forth by 170 emissaries of doom.

Will our heros be torn limb from limb?
Will our distressed damsel meet them?
Do our the Gallant gladiators die?
Who do they meet that lets an arrow fly?

Come read again,
To find rest of the crews shenanigins.

Part 6-The second: Lock, Stock, but no barrel

The books pages I'd turned.
And now it must be returned.
Look throught eh jail window I see much betting,
Will their book they be getting.
There standing guard
Waiting for the burgalar vangaurd.
Tossed a rock at the door.
It worked they opened it to explore.
Invisible in I snuck.
Would I succeed, would I have luck?
The smoke stick I snapped
Enshrouding mist I was wrapped.
Drop the book.
Leave without a backward look.
The book I was just about to place.
When snached by the gaurd with the necklace.
An amulet of true see
Was around the neck of he.
Grabbed by his hand before the book did land.
Down his shirt I did drop,
A bag of caltrop.
Well the one in the corner it looks like won the bet.
Tossed the snare and I was in the internet.
A bump in a net they could now see.
They found it only right to pumel me.
A Sewing needle I drew. I poked into my captor's skin
A blade of metal thin.
My sword I did not draw,
For with the locals I did not want a guffaw.
Wrapped in a net I did fight.
My struggles they lasted through the night.
In a net I was wrought.
But time in a jail cell I bought.
Into the cell I was thrown.
My cover and my plan blown.
Eventually, in a cloud of sleep they were drapped.
That is when I escaped.
My picks they had not took.
The lock I shimmed and I shook.
Free was I
But I had to fly.
I tripped.
Upon the rug I slipped.
The gaurd did wake.
My pick he did take.
And my shirt...and my pants
I was put in the stocks wearing scants.
The gaurds did watch
To make sure no more escapes I did botch.
Into the stocks.
Down came the locks.
I bided my time.
And awaited the oppertunity to escape the punishment of my crime.
Then one night much to drink the gaurd had draught.
It was the moment that I sought.
The wood I chewed with the aperture below my nose.
A sliver of wood I dropped and picked up with my toes.
Between the digits of my feet I did stick.
The stick the locks I would pick.
Loosed the lock with a stick and my toes.
How I managed that one only Luck knows.
I'm FREE! shouted me.
Woke up the gaurd did he.
Back to the blocks.
This time latched with ev'n more locks.
Guards all a round.
Smack in the middle of the town.
Rotten produce the town di produce.
My face was covered in icky tomato juice.
With a lettuce head they hit mi head.
Their aim was on it was dead.
And if it weren't bad enough to be the aim of their veggies.
They pull mi shorts and gave me wedgies.
At long last.
It was the diplomacy of St. Dewey Hackenbash,
That got me frees.
and put me on me knees.
Finally my stuff I got back.
The necromancer who we sought we were finally able to track.
Curious were they.
OF who this weird game would play.
Who on Earth would break INTO a jail.
Steal only a book. And leave a note queing the guards to his trail?
They couldn't understand it their brows began to twitch.
But that is the nature of Jytan Fitch.
Ah but my tail is not over yet.
There is more, much more this you can bet.
A Thorp full of woe.
There more in the way of adventures and undead foe.
SO read again
and hang onto your skin.
There's more tales of slash and smash
Of Fitch , the dorf, and Sir Hackenbash.

Part 6: Stocks and bonds

In through the front door
What a bore.
Uptop
Now that's my stop
To the roof of the jail I threw the grappling hook.
And not a sec la'er a man did pass clearly thinking I was a common crook.
So conviced him I did , that I was not a crook but merely a street performer.
Disappearing a grappling hook is a tall order.
So, from an extension of a trick I'd learned in a book
I disappeared that grappling hook.
Wow that's quite the trick.
But if you're a street proformer with just one you're pretty thick.
I wanna see another.
And this one should be even better.
A grappling hook I'd vanished up my sleeve,
And this chap wasn't satisfied, How I wised he'd just leave.
Of my tricks, I'd just run out.
I decided there was only one way to deal with this lout.
I threw him a punch and hoped it would land him square.
I missed it was nothing but air.
When I swung he just wasn't there.
He fights dirty and that wasn't fair.
So off fled he.
To tell the gaurds of the city.
And now it gets exciting.
Three minutes to be in and out before there is fighting.
So the hook I did hurl.
Around a fixture on the roof it did curl.
Before much further I will go.
The lodgings of my friends this you should know.
The second floor of the Tavern of the barkeep,
Dewey and the Dwarf Ulfgarr did sleep.
While they somnabulised
The jail I attempted to burgalize.
Up the rope I did shimmy.
Open the window I did jimmy.
Escape I did not.
It was an inscape I sought.
Fortuitously I am skinny
From an outty I was now an innee.
To avoid beeing seen
I used the wand and gave myslf an invisible scheen.
The proceedings of the town and what they did post,
These where what I wanted most.
You'll find it quite a relief
To know that I Jytan Fitch am an honest theif
The log I did retrieve,
But a note I did leave.
The book I dist borrow,
"Ever so sorry for your sorrow.
I promise to return it upon the morrow."
The gaurds were back it was time to go.
And so I hid under the stairs.
Even while invisible sought to, avoid their stares.
To create a distraction
I needed to take action.
Against the door the chair I threw.
Back to the roof , like the wind I flew.
Down the rope and to the room next door.
Escaping the gaurds would be my next chore.
Of me
Briefly they did see.
As I was coming off the roof.
Off my invisiblity did poof!
Now the chase was on
From the scene did I abscond.
Lest to the gaurds I wanted to meet my ends.
My only hope was to find my friends.
Oh how they were hot upon my tail.
Fortunately even this cowards courage did not fail.
Up the stairs I stomped.
Fast behind the gaurds they tromped.
Chaotic good I am, but that don't mean I ain't a liar.
I snapped a smokestick and shouted FIRE!
Amid Panic and chaos I did run.
Unfortunately Time I didn't have to watch the fun.
To the window the grappler was sent.
Told me friends and down we went.
Left our coins for the rent.
Alas now our money was spent.
But down the rope we flew.
Myself, The dwarf, and Dewey Too.
The rope was strong.
But the window didn't last long.
Down we would crash.
Me, the dwarf, and finally Mr. Hackenbash.
You needn't worry at all.
None of them got hurt, I broke their fall.
A head ache I had that would have required pills.
No time for that we headed for the hills.
From the mix
Because of our tricks.
We tried hard.
And fortunately we lost the city gaurd.
After a time we were freed.
So the book I sat down to read.
Tales of illicit romance
every record of who did prance.
And more important, much information we did gleam.
From our book stealing scheme.
Night did fall.
Our so comfortable stoney beds did call.
And so we slept.
Except for Me, Fitch who after reading tales of forlorn love--wept.
In the morn when we were rested.
My thieving skills again would be tested.
Twas enough of a sin simply breaking in.
But I Fitch, I had to do it again.
The book I said I would return.
I would place it right back next to the Urn.
Ah but thanks to the note I left, Now they were expecting.
Much harder would it be when they are actively protecting.
Tune in on the next sun.
To find more of Fitch's fun.
It is a whole other tale
Of whether I did succed or if I did fail.
Did Fitch pick the locks,
Or does he end up in the stocks?
Read again and you shall see,
Just what is the fate that befalls me.

Part 5: Battle of the fifths

...And one barroom brawl
to end them all.
And in darkness pants them.
Sewed shut and given a new hem.
The den of sin--
The tavern we found our selves in.
A drink we had, the news we heard.
Two drunken lords gave us the bird.
The maiden barkeep they mistreated.
The battle was on, and soon it was heated.
The fists they threw,
The tankards too.
While Dewey distracted,
It was I, Fitch who acted.
Taking needle and thread and stuffing it through leather.
I sewed his boots together.
Surprised, that he did not feel,
The needle passing just beyond his heel.
After his act of disgrace,
This chum deserved to fall upon his face.
Splat!
Obviously he is not the Kwisatz Haderach.
The fight, quickly it got out of control.
Even barrels of ale began to roll.
But the thugs we sent.
The seat of their pants rent.
Oh how hard it is to stride,
Especially to carry your self with pride,
when your boot laces
Are thouroughly tied in many places.
His pants I stiched,
them together I hitched.
I used some glues,
to affix ones hands to his shoes.
My jests I don't lack,
for I furthered the trick
with a tack
Planted firmly in his back.
I thought it pretty slick.
When all was said and done.
The thugs were gone, we'd had our fun.
But, a mess we'd made.
So to clean up we stayed.
In doing so we heard the tale of woe.
Only amid the books I had read
Had I ever heard of undead.
Death revived.
Reanimating those who had not survived.
A necromancer made his residence here.
Of course his ambitions: to take over the world and to spread fear.
Through a corps of corpses
the streets would courses.
We had to know his plan
the plan of this possesse'd man.
Off to the jail we set,
Was their a plan--you bet.
We sought the city record cards,
Owned and stored by naught but the gaurds.
Me, Fitch, an or'inry bloke,
INTO prison I would soon try to broke.
My idea, well it works
But not without quite a few quirks.
So tomorrow you'll have to read,
to find out if I really did succeed.

Part 4: The orcish war

Those rascally rogues.
They wandered the land in droves.
Rapists, plunders, and pillagers
Murdered and stole from the villagers.
With their wicked convoy
They did burn the land and destroy.
After a town they had sacked.
Their victims lay tortured with agony wracked.
The more their numbers grew,
The more denizens they slew.
And so we snuck upon a band
Not until we had them surrounded was the battle at hand.
I used the wand of invisibility
cast the spell so they could not see me.
To enwrap the squadrons
of the rapscallions,
To ensnare the lot with rope,
That was my aim and my hope.
To run the rope around them all,
Pull it tight, trip their legs, and watch them fall.
That was the plan,
But Dewey was born and bread a fighting man.
He had his fun
And finished them off afore I was done.
With much leity,
Dewey made of the orcs in their entirety
And did so with much brevity.
Smacking orcs hard enough they defied gravity.
An orge as their lead,
He was the last obstacle that did impede.
Took off did he.
Rampaging through the brush, flattening the tree.
Him we did track.
Following his evidences was easy--their was no lack.
Deep, deep into the forest,
he did lure us.
Only over his dead body would his loot he leave.
Gold, diamonds and gems we did retrieve.
Possessions of the villages we unanimously said.
But upon our returning.
We found the hamlets burning.
And as for the villagers they were all dead.
We did not want to waste.
So the items owners we took their place.
And in the town we we did the selling.
A bar fight we found compelling.
but tomorrow you'll have to tune
to hear our tale of the fight in the barroom.

Part 3: Dwarf freed, Celebrate with a tankard of mead

Aprendes the dwarf we did meet.
His runemaster friends we did greet
A blade with greater cleave
With Dewey they did leave.
Strange trinkets the mage masters sought.
Things they that could not be bought.
What would fill their bag of tricks
Ear of ogre, and toenail of gargoyle were thrown in the mix.
For saving their friend in his time of need,
loaded us with loot did they indeed.
In exchange for a gargoyle toe,
I got a flame bringing bow.
Il Farhendum: Bringer of the Inferno
A mighty bolt of fire this would throw.
What else was crafted by these master wizards?
A blade blessed by blizzards.
Isenghast: Frozen blade,
Greatest rapier ever made.
Into battle forges this blade of frost,
Many it has won, but few it has lost.
Dewey the fighter,
In his new magic armor he gleamed even brighter.
Other gifts we received
One had not to be seen to be believed.
The gift was a wand;
With a wave of a hand.
From the site the weilder would abscond.
vanish outright from the land.
What was this gift that was given to me?
A wand of lesser Invisibility.
Gifts- there were two other things.
Most masterfully forged healing rings.
50 charges had they,
but only usable a certain number of times per day.
Not entirely free were these epic stores.
Promised we to do what we could in ade against the orc wars.
So ere left we to the runeing mastsers,
Left them to ward off their own disasters.
Our new found gear we did stowe.
Oft to battle we were set to go.
Anon our heroes met their next fork
What to do about a band of orc?
Tune in again on the week's second day
To find out how this battle did play.
Will they find danger or will they find the way?
How will they do in their orcish foray?
Read again
It is only then you will find how it will end.
Tune in tomorrow,
beit for battle or for sorrow.

Part 2-3: End of the twos, battle of the Ooze

In telling the tale
of my epic peril,
I became so enrapt.
A large part of mi own story I have gaped.
I'll tell you know howI almost did loose,
An engulfing enounter with an ooze.
I will expound upon my goblin fable.
By telling what took place under the table.
But first about the ooze I hollowed.
I could not move after I was swallowed.
But fortunate for me,
From previous battles, a double-headed axe of flame had Dewey.
The wretched blob, it swallowed me.
Ere was I immobile for what bethoughts I all eternity.
Well Dewey the fighter.
His keen axe, it grew brighter.
In a flash,
An arc that was a slash
Clove great Dewey Hackenbash.
The cube wobbled and quivered.
I drew my bow and again the cube was quivered.
The shot did pierce. The ooze was shivered.
Only for a while was I stopped.
Just until that cube was dropped.

Now just before,
I was gooed to the floor
Yon afore that, with a goblin party
we did parley.
We'd interrupted their sumtious feasts.
For revenge they tore into us like they did their savage beasts.
Under the furniture I did tumble.
The goblins they were ready to rumble.
As to where exactly I did go
They didn't care, but the chair they did throw.
Not seeing me, the goblins I did surprize.
drew my bow and pierced them betwixt the eyes.
They did drop.
Their hair we did use as a mop.
After we'd unleashed our arrows.
It could be said we were regarded as heros.
For it was here
over a good beer
The dwarf we heard
from a tight hovel we pulled him by his beard.
Imprisoned was he without any meade.
Joyous was he when freed.
More than you or I would think,
This merry minner dwarf did drink.
The weapons of this portly chap
For his profession, they were quite apt.
A tower shield
and choice of two sharpened shovels he did wield.
He was set loose.
He had avoided a hanging and a noose.
We entered a party of two, we left a party of three.
The Dwarf, Dewey, and then there was me.

Come again tomorrow there is still more.
After this much we did explore.

Part 2: The second- About that Dwarf

When last we left,
A door we'd yet to cleft.
The implement of dirt,
sharpened and wielded to hurt,
we had not found
this tool of the ground.
Neither the escapeds of the hall
nor the Dwarf welled up in the wall.
When last we met
The oaken door was set.

The door, staunch and strong it stood.
Crafted only of the finest wood.
The handle, it was locked.
Our way was blocked.
A stern barrier imposed,
Iron barred and resolutely closed.
Wiggled with a pick,
just to hear that opening click.
But alas, this was no or'inry portal.
Blocked not by the hand of any mortal.
OPEN and we'll be polite!
But this door, it wanted a fight.
Axe and ye shall receive.
Dewey splintered the door like you wouldn't believe.
Opening this door was a skill I did lack.
So Dewey drew his blade and gave it a whack!

We had made our way ins.
But ere before our eyes
what did we behold--much to our surprize.
The way was watched by a ward of Goblins.
The door--
we did floor.
The goblins too--
Them we slew.
Naught but later that night
We found ourselfs in yet another fight.
Who was the next of foe,
the ones brave enough to give us a go?
A pack of demon rodents-
They felt our blades and we proved them impodent.
We did what we do best
We slew the monsterous beasts and took the golden chest.
Even the 'counter twixt me and the bugbear,
Wasn't enough to give me a scare.
My aim was to kill the thing.
His aim was to fling.
He flung, I flew.
He won, but I got him too.
Of dying I went through the motions.
But fortune was with us, for Dewey had some potions.
After our battles in this world we did find.
Our blades were dull. So we had an axe to grind.
While we were so engrossed,
We met not other than our host.
Who did stroll?
Twas none other than a 10 foot tall angry troll.
After quickly dispatching
the one who thought we were tresspassing,
Further our skills we did hone.
We came upon the room with a throne.
Not a dungeon at all.
But rather the common room of a great hall.
How could such a palace be,
magical as this, yet unbeknownst to me?
Twas a place were trolls and demons persist,
A place were any sort of beast does exist.
A vile darkness armed to the teeth,
all of it lying just beneth.
A whole other world,
bidding its time, and waiting to be unfurled.

Gazed we now upon two senturies.
How they looked as though they'd stood for centuries.
Two Gargoyles cast in stone.
These were the gaurdians of the throne.
RAAR! In an instant alive and awake they became.
Killing us, Ay, that one goes the game!
And so we faught
but we had the advantage on them, for before they woke
thanks to a rope we had them in a knot.
This they of course broke.
Tore through with the grusome appendages,
That sprouted forth from their horrid visages.
Their teeth they gnawed and gnashed.
But me with my sword I jabbed and I slashed.
Dewey, he swung and he smashed.
After our rath the gargoyles both were trashed.
Twixt they were tied.
and twixt they died.
Great was before,
but now my deeds were the stuff of lore.
Shortly after the gargs' could take no more.
We heard the cries of a dwarf--Yea a dwarf, one straight from yore.

Read again and you shall find about how he joined our corps.
So tune in the next day of this week.
And you shall find more of the story you seek.
I have to go.
But of Fitch there is still more to know.

Part 2: Shovels, Hovels, and a Tightly Packed Dwarf

Last we'd met, the story we'd cleft
After meeting our hero we abruptly left.
There is more he had to say
So it will come forth in this way.

Now along one day,
While I was ponderings,
Who did but brey,
Thus interrupting my wanderings?
With none other I did clash,
Than mi ole mate, Dewey Hackenbash.
It was not but later that day,
A gargoyle I did slay.
But the great stone beast,
was not my first foe,
Nay not in the least.
One of many others who sought my woe.

I met with he.
He and me became we.
As we talked
We also walked.
We took that tern,
And ambled we across the sandy berm.
What was it that lay just around the bend?
A vile ambush sought our end.
A troop of Kobolds,
My might extoled.
With a swing of an axe
Dewey had them on their backs.
After sending them to the floor,
It was then, we noticed the door.

...

Part 1: The Begining

For those of you who know me, you should know by know that I am somewhat of a Dungeons and Dragons geek. For those of you who don't know me, I am somewhat of a Dungeons and Dragons geek. (If you need proof of this Simply check out my September 11, 2006 posting.) Well, being a dungeons and dragon geek. just wasn't enough. I needed to add an exclaimation point to that sentence. SO... here it is. The epic saga in poetic form for one of my favorite D&D characters--Jytan Fitch (an 18th level overall = 1st level fighter/1st sorcerer/8th rogue/8th arcane trickster. Now you might be saying thinking"wait to even be an arcane trickster you have to be able to cast 3rd levels spells how does that work?" Well, for you nerds who are wondering read on, read on, there is a story for that. ) And now as told by Jytan himself ....

THE RUBIYITCH OF JYTAN FITCH: Part 1-The Begining

How do ye do an how do ye be?
Its a pleasure to meet thee.
Well, how do you do?
A most merrily good morn to you!
You ask who I am.
Perhaps you have heard
of the written word
of the Rubiyat of Omar Koram?
Well, this is the Rubiyitch of Jytan Fitch!
Listen now
as I tell you how.
My mater and pater I know not who they be.
Me mater could just as easily be a tree.
Ah, but in my jests
I never rests; and tis not so simple, as you'll see.

Mi father was an or'inary chap.
A man without wealth,
but he was mi pap.
Smitten by a maiden elf
He fell in love at her lap!
Well, One and One is three.
It so happens that that three is Mee.

ere Back to the tale I tell
In great battle our erstwhile safe town fell.
A storm of death loosed from the invader's bow.
How many lives they stole no one knows.
In blazing fire my beloved hamlet was razed.
By fortune, sling and arrow, I was grazed.
Fiends all around,
time to hide in safer ground.
Though they were fierce and hairy,
when things are dark and scary
is not the time to tarry
Refuge was sought,
while the battle was fought,
amid the stones of the cemetary.
Mi dear ol dad,
the best I e'er had,
he lost his wife,
his dear ole wife, she lost her life.
While mi mum was hident,
he missed his missus, but the slings and arrows-- they didn't.
He cried
Then he too died.
Alone.
No home.
Those I adore,
They are no more.
A void of space...
I had to leave that all awful place.
One thing of note,
of hope: there was a single mote.
While hidden amid death and life's rift-
I did see An angel who bore promise of a gift.
Lying prone.
I was and anon alone.
As for mees,
the end of youth was spent amid the trees.

I am Half elf, half man,
I do what I can,
I do as I please
I wandered ere the lan!
And while I was a lass,
Twas a noble who brought me up and taught me class.
Just the same,
I remember his name.
He was The Great and Merciful,
He was High King Percifal.
Of Arborden
He was the Regulen.
But when I came of age.
I bid adieu to my benefact sage.
I had grown
And was again on my own.
The forests and the streets were now my home.
Much did I learn, yet lil I earn.
It was in this time and place,
A man came to my space.
An inner city dweller
was the reside of this 'ere feller.
To me,
"A tree I should like to see"
said he.
And in a flash,
A friend I had in Dewy Hackenbash.
O'er time we went our ways.
Much I'd learned of Streets, Sins and Plays.
You should know,
of where all I did go.
Twas less than a silver crowd that I did wend.
Oft in the brig I would end.
Oh, how the time did pass,
No more was I the wickle elven lass.
Ah, but ne'er cry,
for there is more to who am I.
A fighter, and a rogue, a wanderer and a dreamer...
I am Jytan Fitch the sorcerer and schemer.

Set now is the stage,
For the many battles Fitch did wage.
Turn ye 'gain round here,
And on the very next day of this year,
More of his epic tales you shall hear.