Stories about Hulurin Tosscobble -

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dergon darkhelm
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Stories about Hulurin Tosscobble -

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"Shhh. Keep yer yap tight, Jort or I'll smash ye right in it!" The halfling spoke barely above a whisper from his place of cover.

"But they're hours late, Hully. And it's so cold I can barely feel my feet. Let's just tell Grorik the cart never came and make it back for the City."

"We wait. An ye jess keep silent an' ready!" Hulurin Tosscobble's tone left no room for discussion. Neither would Grorik Brint accept his men returning unsuccessful. The Plague Rats did not accept such results. "We wait," he said again finally. The five humans hidden in the woods grumbled a moment but returned to their silent vigil, waiting.

The 12th of Alturiak was bitter cold, and only a sliver of Selune lit the night sky. A few inches of snow covered the road, and a strong breeze whipped it up in small twisters. Hully smiled for that small blessing as their tracks would be covered quickly by Auril's rage.

The plan was laid clear. A single cart would be making up the road toward the South gate at Waterdeep bearing the sign of a blue dragon. There would be only the two drivers accompanying the shipment. The intercept was at the blind turn a league past the Dessarin ford. Hully's men would simply pull the wooden slip mechanism on small pit trap they had set on the road when the cart approached. When the cart got stuck, four of them would cudgel the guards, the strongest, Jort,would grab the chest from the back and load it to horseback. HUlly would keep watch until the job was done, then burn everything remaining.

Hulurin's fingers were starting to go numb and he was actually starting to debate internally whether the cart was ever going to appear but then, the quiet creak of a horse drawn carriage with wheels bumping on rough road met his ears. The others heard it too and exchanged a short series of nods. Hands tightened on hilts. Hully gripped his crossbow and tested the tension one last time. He knew he shouldn't have to fire a shot, but it always paid to take care.

The sound grew quickly. The cart was already close, it's approach having been masked in the wind. It was bigger than HUlly has thought it would be. He hesitated a moment as it drew closer. It had a high cover on the back. Odd. He had be told to expect a simple open cart. It all seemed .....not right. The cart was nearly to the pit trap and his men were already at the pull wire. Not right. It came to Hully's mind slowly. Not right. This was not right at all. Hully went to give the sign to halt the attack but too late.........
Last edited by dergon darkhelm on Tue Jul 19, 2011 6:59 pm, edited 3 times in total.
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Re: Exile ...... (stories about Hullurin Tosscobble)

Post by dergon darkhelm »

Odjer pulled the line right on cue. The draft horse easily navigated the small pit, but the cart hit the uncovered hole and fell hard to the left, breaking both wooden wheels and its axle. One driver went hurtling forward, landing hard in the snow before the horse. The other, however, seemed to have been saddled to the seat, and came up with a crossbow drawn.

Hully's men went into action, emerging from their hiding spots. Two of his men went for the front drover as agreed, two other made for the high seat to take the archer.


Then, from the rear of the cart a third man emerged, well armored and apparently unsurprised and unaffected by the carriage's sudden "accident". Despite wearing full heavy mail he moved quickly. He held a small wand in one hand and a longsword in the other. Over his breastplate he wore a fine decorated cloak, bearing the mark of white jawless skull on a purple sunburst. Hully was not a religious fellow, but nearly everyone could recognize the symbol of Cyric.

Not right at all, the halfling had just a moment to muse before chaos ensued.

Neither of the two men making for the cart even got close. The smell of ozone tore the air as white lightening shot forth from the armored man's wand, blasting both backwards. Portin, the youngest of the gang, was literally knocked from his boots and thrown against the base of a gnarled darkwood. Hully could hear the sickening snap of the human's spine as he hit the trunk of the great tree.

Hully started firing indiscriminately from behind the shrub where he had taken hiding. The fallen drover was run through quickly but the other started firing arrows from atop the cart. More lightening and another of Hully's men went down.

The halfling knew that the wand, and its wielder, would be the end of all of them if not stopped. He went low into a crouch and came around behind the Cyricist. The other men each fought for their lives in the snow, now redden ing with blood. Hully needed only a score more paces. Both drovers were down. Jort was rushing toward the armored man, already bleeding badly from a arrow in his belly. Was he the only one left alive? Not right at all. The hin put it out of his mind and continued his slow encircling maneuver.

The man of Cyric levelled his wand. More brilliant lightning emerged and Jort, like the others hit, was quickly killed. But that gave Hulurin Tosscobble the time need to make a kill shot. He aimed his crossbow for the exposed neck of the priest from only a pace away. He aimed and ...........

At that very moment the priest turned, meeting the halfling's eyes. "Jellyjam!" the priest uttered.

"What an odd activation word for such a thing of death," Hully thought. "that is how I am killed? Jellyjam?"

Hully released the bolt. The small arrow met the man's carotid artery and tore it nearly from his neck as blood spurted. At the same time the flash erupted. Hulurin tried to roll but was caught nearly square. Like young Portin, the halfling was knocked backward and landed hard against a tree. The last thing the halfling saw was the Priest of Cyric struggling to chant a spell of healing as he fell to his knees. Instead of words, only a rush of blood came from his mouth as the man went face flat to ground.

"At least I took ye wit' me." Hully said weakly as the world went dark.
Last edited by dergon darkhelm on Fri Apr 15, 2022 11:11 pm, edited 3 times in total.
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Re: Stories about Hullurin Tosscobble -

Post by dergon darkhelm »

Hully's head was pounding as he slowly returned to consciousness. He was laying beneath a bush that was now covered in a thick blanket of fresh snow. His knee was bent backwards beneath him in an orientation that was not anatomically possible. The halfling remained still a long while, the smell of burnt clothes and flesh starting to catch his nostrils. Slowly, the prior events began to return to his memory.....Not right at all

Hully opened his eyes slowly, wincing at the bright winter daylight that greeted him and dazzled on the bleached white snow. At first he heard the chatter of pair of windfishers, perched in a branch above him. Then he heard the whinnie of a horse from a a number of spans away. Slowly he rolled over onto his stomach, noting that for some reason he held a small silver coin in his right hand......"Odd" he mused. Hully had the strange sensation, a tickling at the back of his memory. He rolled the coin over in his palm trying to make a reckoning on it. The sound of a woman's voice startled him out of this rumination.

He slipped the coin quickly into his vest pocket and, stifling a painful grunt as he turned his torn knee into the right position. He crawled on his stomach, dragging his legs behind, out of the hedge toward the sound.

As Hully caught the scene he quickly returned to alertness. He was at least thrity paces from the road but had a fine vantage of the scene. A Waterdhavian patrol, 7 men on mounts were busy investigating the scene of destruction on the road.

"Bane's balls!", Hully cursed under his breath as one of the men rolled over the frozen body of the Cyricist.

"Right through the throat, Sergeant. He's long stiff. That makes six dead here so far." The soldier proclaimed as he lightly kicked at the corpse to reassure himself of the veractiy of his statement. "Hells. He wearing the mark of Darksun, Sergeant. This is not right at all."

Those last words rung in Hully's ears and snapped him to action. As quietly as he could he dragged himself back into the hedge, continued on his belly until emerging on the far side. Slowly limping away, he withdrew from the scene heading a good hundred paces into the forest off the road before turning North in parallel with the trail.

Finally clear of the patrol and with the ghastly scene behind him, he stopped and slipped his hand into his vest pocket and withdrew the coin. A young woman's face in profile looked out at him. Again, the strong sense of memory not quite recalled came to him. As Hully hobbled North for the city of Waterdeep, the coin in his palm felt strangely comfortable.
Last edited by dergon darkhelm on Sat Jun 18, 2011 1:21 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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Re: Stories about Hullurin Tosscobble -

Post by dergon darkhelm »

17 Flamerule, 1361 DR, Waterdeep Harbor

"Just don't look down, little Hully! You can do it fine!" Hullett Tosscoble called up to his 9 year old son, Hulurin who dangled from a line at least 7 spans up the mast on a Balduran Schooner anchored in Waterdeep harbor.

Hullet Tosscobble had made himself a relatively successful halfling running his specialty family business. That specialty was using halflings, mostly his family including his sons, to do specialty work on ships in Waterdeep harbor. Being small and light, halflings were ideal for "getting raised" , being tied to a line and winched up to high heights to work up in the rigging.

Today Hullett, or big Hully as he was known, was working on the "The Singing Orca" who had her main halyard caught in the rigging so high that none of the crew could free it. Being dead calm and a fair bright day, Hullett thought it the ideal chance to let Hulurin, "little Hully", go up the mast for the first time. His fourth son had to learn the business soon enough.

Some of the deck hands laughed at the spectacle as the halfing child, weighing little mroe than a stone, was hoisted easily by his father and older brother. Even in calm air, the hull of the "The Singing Orca" rocked in the waters of the harbor, and at more than seventy feet in the air that sway was accentuated. Hully didn't mind though. He had always been a fearless child and the excitement of being chosen to do "adult" work outweighed his limited concerns.

"It's the thick line all twisted on the port shroud!" Hullett called up as Hully got closer. His older brother Trulett clapped a few times as the child deftly untied the tangle of knots in hardly a moment's time. "He's got hands," Hullett started to comment .......

Then Hully's support line suddenly snapped. The child reached out for something, anything, to hold onto, but his grasp left him nothing solid and he soon was plummetting down onto the deck. The fall would easily kill any man. The schooner had listed just slightly to starbooard before the line snapped though, so Hully was falling right for the rail. By chance, one of the foresails had been tied off under tension for repair to the canvas. Hully landed hard on the tied tarp and bounced off. He slammed hard against the base of the mast and was knocked unconscious, but a fall that should have killed him left him with only a bit of bruising.

When little Hully came to some time later a number of humans were gathered about him as was his father Hullett. Lying supine on the deck, Hully noticed that his hand was clenched and felt something hard within it. He opened his palm and he and the men noticed a single gold coin in the child's hand. "That be a ......Golden Lion. How'd the lad come up wit' a Cormyr coin? " an old deckhand exclaimed.

"Well...he sure earned it!" chuckled another.

"Lad's got the blessing of Tymora" remarked a third.

"Brandobaris", Hullett corrected the human, looking at his son quizzically....."Brandobaris."

Hully smiled at the Cormyran Golden Lion once, clenched it in his fist once again, and fell back to unconsciousness.
Last edited by dergon darkhelm on Sat Jun 18, 2011 1:24 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: Stories about Hullurin Tosscobble -

Post by dergon darkhelm »

[[ The story now continues as Hulurin Tosscobble, for his own safety and (moreso) for the safety of his gang has been exiled offshore to an inhospitable pile of rocks known as the Moonshae Isles. After spending a few rides waiting for a note telling him it was safe to return to Waterdeep, the realization slowly came that this exile was meant to be permanent.

Months passed and Hully found work much as he had back in the City of Splendors. He learend about "the ffolk" and spent time at nearby halfing settlements. He fell into a rhythm of life working, smoking and drinking......except that he was occasionally visited upon by strangely vivid dreams............. ]]

Why is the Tavern so hazy tonight? The notion came to Hully somewhat distantly. The tavern was suffused with smoke ...or fog..... It was hard to tell. And the Tavern? Was he inside The Hobbit Hole in Lowhill? It sure seemed like it. But then why was that old Calim woven rug with the picture of three horses hanging on the wall like inside The Soggy Scupper back in Waterdeep?

Hully had his pipe in his hand. He looked down at it and noted that was billowing from it as if from a blown with a bellows from a furnace. Strange. He studies the smoke, or was it shadow, billowing from his pipe for quite a while, distantly enjoying the shapes of the swirls.

Finally Hully looked up to see another halfling sitting at the table alongside him. A thin halfling wearing stylish black leathers with matching black knee-high boots and gloves. He looked strangely familiar and flipped an old Sembian coin over and over.

"Hey! That's my coin. *pause* Don't I know you? " Hully spoke to the other hin.

The other hin smiled and winked. "I guess I'm going to have to tell you again, Hulurin Tosscobble. You always listen, but then later always seem to forget us."

"Us?" Hully looked around the tavern but now saw at the edge of the smokey shadows a number of other halflings,each dressed in the same black leathers of the speaker.

The black leathered halfing shook his head in mock woe. "The Stealers of the Shadow, Hulurin. You always forget about us. I guess we'll have to tell the story again." The halfling flipped Hully's old Sembian one more time the deftly tucked it away into a hidden vest pocket.

"It's only been a generation since the Trickster stole his shadow, Hulurin. And in that short time our numbers have grown. The ranks of our Order increase as does the power of Brandobaris."

Hully was confused and could barely make out the other halflings face through the darkness that seemd to have grown, but somehow remembered the story. "His...you mean Mask, don't you?"

"Now you're getting the right of it, Hulurin! Maybe this will stick finally. Yes, Mask. You see, in the years after after the Time of troubles the Trickster took a spell of boredom. He could sneak anywhere, take anything....where was the challenge in that, I ask?" The blackleathered halfling then smiled a wide grin. "But then he came up with the greatest joke and thieving ever thought of. Brandobaris was going to steal the shadow of the god of shadows! Perfect!"

At this proclamation, all of the black leathered halflings began to laugh heartily in unison. Hully slowly joined in, feeling comfortable as he laughed in the shadows with his kin.

"I'm not going to give you the long story of it." the halfing continued. "But it was the greatest heist of all. And word on the alley has it that Mask doesn't even know his own shadow's been stolen. But it has been. The Trickster has it now. And that gives us the dominion of the shadows, Hulurin."

And with that, the black leathered halflings all grew silent and looked at Hully with serious glares. Each nodded a few times slowly. Hully thought he understood.

The smoke gradually cleared and the halflings slowly seemd to fade. Hully looked down at his pipe. The embers had burnt to ash. The tavern walls were gone.

_____________________________


Hully Tosscobble awoke from his slumber upstairs at the Crossbow's Inn in Skaug. The middle night had just passed. He was naked with his bow near to him and his leathers slung over the wooden chair. In his hand he gripped that old Sembian coin. He looked at it a long moment, poured a small glass of water from the bedside basin, then returned to a heavy slumber.
Last edited by dergon darkhelm on Mon Sep 12, 2011 8:30 pm, edited 5 times in total.
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Re: Stories about Hullurin Tosscobble -

Post by dergon darkhelm »

Hully's head hurt a bit. Bright late afternoon sun filtered through the shutters of his bedchamber at the Crossbows Inn mixing with the dark of the interior. He squinted his eyes against the light as his temples pounded. He'd only had a few pints of grog the evening before. Why should his head.....?

Then the recollection came to him of a dark dream. It had something to do with that old Sembian coin that he used to carry until he had had tossed it aside as a quick offering to the Trickster before he did that last solo job.

He looked down at the bedsheets and there it lay, the same silver sembian hawk. His right palm had the imprint of the Selgaunt mint. He must have been clutching it tight in his dream. But how did it......?

There had been another in his dream. It was another halfling, re remembered that much. He looked at the simple chair and saw his dark leathers draped upon them. he set the coin on the simple desk.

Hully sat and pondered long as the pieces of the dream slowly returned. The coin, the halflings, the black leathers, the story of the Order of the Stealers of the Shadow. Hulurin Tosscobble had been called........hadn't he?

Motionless in his musing another day passed as the shadows lengthened on the floor of his chamber and finally faded to dark. Soon moonlight took its place streaming through the slats instead. A wind blew outside the Inn whipped around the branches of the duskwood that grew outside his window. Long shadows danced on the floor. Hully lit no candle as he donned his dark leathers in the darkness.

It was late and Selune was a high sliver when the wind finally died down. It his soul Hulurin Tosscobble knew that it was time. He would become a Stealer of the Shadow. In the deep darkness of midnight he grasped the old sembian coin......and he prayed to Brandobaris.
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Re: Stories about Hullurin Tosscobble -

Post by CloudDancing »

I wanted to let you know I am really enjoying these stories. They are very rich and full of detail that can stand alone and anyone can relate to you character despite not having met him. Lovely work.
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Re: Stories about Hullurin Tosscobble -

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It was a rare light-winded night on the Isle of Skaug. Selune's Tears played fireflies on the gentlly rippling waters of the darkened bay. Docklines creaked on their cleats and halyards slapped lazily against the many masts of ships at anchor. Few people walked the docks and only the sound of a pair of stray cats fighting in a nearby alley broke the calm. To the untrained eye the harbor might even appear peaceful. But Hulurin Tosscobble did not have an untrained eye.

Skaug was a place of violence and dark deeds. Hully noted the half-orc skulking behind a crate no more than thirty paces from The Gibed Sail. The orcblood would rob, and perhaps kill, some sailor who tried to stumble alone to his ship after a night of drinking. The take for the crime would likey be no more than a handful of silvers. Life was cheap in Skaug, the halfling noted to himself grimly.


It was with this backdrop that Hully awaited middlenight in a hidden nook off the pier. We would feel its arrival in his gut. It had been this way for a number of weeks now, though he knew not why. Since his dream and his enlightenment Hulurin had silently named himself one of Stealers of the Shadow. Though he knew no ritual, had never met another priest of his Order, nor had any inculcation, Hully was certain of his path. Brandobaris had called him and he had answered.

Since that time Hully had seen and done much. He had robbed. He had plotted. He had killed. Most deserved it, he thought to himself. Nearly everyone on Skaug deserved what they got. He had been rewarded for his efforts in gold and in respect from his employers and colleagues. Yes, he was on the right path. The path of Brandobaris.

Finally, a low cloud passed overhead, moving slowly across the sky and mostly blotting Selune. The shadows grew thicker, shrouding the halfing in ever deepening shadow. It was time. The halfling allowed his eyes to close and deepened his breathing as he began prayers to the Lord of the Shadows. He felt his heart slow and his skin tingle ever so slightly as power fluxed into his spirit. Time seemed suspended as he entered an almost trance like state.

He heard vaguely from his trance the sound of a cudgel cracking on bone. The orc had found his prey. Hully awakened from his prayer refreshed and slowly rose, his black oiled leathers making not a sound as he exited the alley. He approached the orc who was busy looting an unconscious human woman with blood trickling from a head wound. She might live....or not. Life was cheap in Skaug.

Hulurin thought to perhaps stab the orc in the kidney and make a turnabout of play, but then decided against it. From only three paces behind the orc, the halfling struck a tindertwig on his belt buckle and lit his pipe. The orc spun about at the sound and raised his cudgel menacingly. Hully simply smiled and winked then turned and walked away into the darkness that was Skaug.
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Re: Stories about Hullurin Tosscobble -

Post by Burt »

What a deplorable creature. Lovely.
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Re: Stories about Hullurin Tosscobble -

Post by dergon darkhelm »

The Red Stag had a good crowd for this late night. The wind howled to a gale and drove the rain near sideways. Not unusual weather for the ffolk of Corwell, but severe enough to drive men indoors for a warm fire and a dry tavern. Smoke from the hearth and men’s pipes wafted up into the rafters and a mostly jovial mood filled the room.

The mood was not good, however for young Erut Groensson. The dock guard from the Harbor Master’s office sat nervously in a dark corner booth opposite the halfling in dark leathers with a cowl drawn over his head.

“I don’t want to go to prison, mister. I can’t.” The boy had seen fewer than 20 winters and already near to breaking down.

“An’ we don’t wanna see ye go te the gaol either, Erut. But we all know ye been huntin’ in the Myrloch Vale.” Hully kept a serious look and tone as he continued. “And your sister, Einaris who works at the Caer…..we also know that she regularly pilfers hens from the royal pantries, don’t she. I unnerstand the Seneschal be pretty severe in punishing those that thieve from the royals.” The Halfling leaned back a bit and drew in a large breath from his pipe. The young guard sat silently, barely nodding his head in the affirmative. Hully let the silence hang ominously, watching the lad’s discomfort.

“So what we ginna do, Erut? Seems we got ourselves a little problem. But don’t you worry…….’cause we fix problems like this. How ‘bout you an’ us make a deal? We can become friends an’ no one needs te know ‘bout yer deeds, eh. That sound good?”
The youth looked up hopefully just as Hully exhaled a smoke ring toward the rafters.

“Yes, mister” Eurt stammered.

“Good. Now Ye be assigned with Deputy Harbormaster Rectar most days. All I’m gonna need you do is to look over them shipping manifests when Rectar gives ye time alone. Ye pay close attention te anything interesting on them sheets. Dinna worry, you’ll learn what’s important over time.” Hully smiled. “Then ye’ll let us know what important. It’s that simple.”

Hully watched the lad nod hesitantly again and pressed on. “See. This is how it ginna werk. E’ery day when ye walk past the Corwell Stables ye’ll look at the second floor window furthest south. If ye see a green cloth in the window then ye come ‘ere te the Stag at ten bells that night. Ye come alone an’ we’ll talk an ye’ll tell me what ye learned.”

“Now if’n we’re happy wit’ the information ye bring an’ ye come alone an’ ye dinna tell no other livin’ soul ‘bout it, then ye an’ I will be good friends an’ I’ll pay ye some gold. If’n ye don’t show up, or ye go tellin’ yer tale te anyone else, well………………….. “

Hully trailed off and his smiled disappeared, replaced by a hardened glare. He did not need to speak the threat openly. Erut gulped down the lump in his throat and nodded once more.

As fast as it had disappeared, Hully’s smiled returned . The Halfling pulled a small pouch containing a dozen gold coins and slid them across to the guard. Erut sat motionless, eyeing the pouch before him as if it contained a viper.

“Dinna worry, Erut. Like I said, ye an’ I ginna get te be good friends.” Hully winked as he rose from the table, returning his darkwood pipe to his vest pocket. He walked confidently to the door of the tavern and stepped outside in the dark, rainy night.

Erut Groensson sat long moments in silent. Finally, resolved he, looked around the room to be see if he was being watched. He exhaled relieved, quickly picked up the pouch and tucked it away in the folds of his cloak.

Hulurin Tosscobble didn’t need to watch to know that the lad had taken the gold. The Halfling was already off to the docks for his next appointment of the night.
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Re: Stories about Hullurin Tosscobble -

Post by dergon darkhelm »

Middlenight in Lowhill halfling settlement, one month ago:

A few days among the hinfolk of Lowhill had done Hully well. In Skaug, where he had spent the bulk of the last months, the intrigue ever present death or threat thereof could come to weigh upon a fellow's spirit. Hully greatly wished to see his own spirit buoyed, to not succumb to the hopelessness, and senselessnes, that was life on that pirate isle.

As he had most nights, Hulurin had taken his meal late, after dark, and then finished his evening out of doors at the beergarten. The halfing ffolk would drink and revel as night deepened, sharing stories and songs with one another. The conversation was of simple things, of family, farm and friends. Hully was among these people, but he knew he was not one of them. When he talked on Skaug it was not hearth and home, but of murder and other deeds done in the deep of night.

While present in the company of smallfolk, Hully remained removed somewhat, keeping his distance almost as if he expected that he could corrupt the whole of the village if he lingered too long and too close. Most of the halflings seemed to somehow understand this as well, and kept their distance from the cowled Hulurin. He sat cross legged at the far edge of the light of the bonfire, his hardened face shadowed by his hood, shadows flickering around him, the laughter of his kin muffled from thirty paces. His features would occasionaly be lit in a red glow from the embers of his pipe, showing that he had grown more gaunt and pale in recent months.


Slowly, the crowd dwindled as the night drew onward. The last of the revellers, inebreiated with Lowhill's Best ale, finally made for their holes and their small beds. Hully could hear their drunken taunts as they walked off, the happy and jesting boasts made from one drunken friend to another, from brother to brother, fade around the hillside, leave Hulurin in quiet. The bonfire burned low, the shadows at the edge of the fire thickening, encircling the fire pit, and claiming their rightful ground in the night. It was time once again.

It was time once again for Hulurin Tosscobble to commune with his god, Brandobaris, the Stealer of the Shadow. Hully rose and left the circle, making for a quiet place he had come to know as safe for his meditations. Here deep in the apple orchard a small creek babbled by, the starlight silver on the water. A flat rock protruded over the water slighty, but was shrouded in shadow by the overhanging branches of a great willow. It was a fitting change from the hidden alleyway in which he usually prayed to his Shadowlord.

Hully stood and tried to feel the shadows moving across his body. He had to join with them, become them. That was what it was to be of his most special and secret Order. In his dreams he had learned the Stealer of the Shadow could know the substance of the darkness, could grasp it. He stood atop a small shadow, roughly the thickness of a deck plank, that had settled on the flat rock, balancing on one foot while reaching outward for another wisp of darkness. He focused his will as deeply as he could, trying to sense the thickness of the shadowstuff. The change in the position of a slow moving cloud caused the shadowplank to narrow, forcing Hully to move en point to his toetip so as not to lose contact with it. The streaming shadow near his hand slowly elevated, just out of reach of his fingers. Hully made a partial pirouette to try to gain an inch more of reach. It was so close. He leaned just a hint further. He would have the Shadows in his grasp just a bit......further....more.....and....

**SPLASH**

Hully lost his balance and tumbled off the flat rock into the cold water beneath him. It was shallow and slow, and the hin came up soaked and sputtering. Selune gaped through the clouds as he emerged the creek, seemign to laugh and mock by bathing him in light. His pipe had somehow fallen from his vest pocked and bobbed in the water next to him. To add insult, Hully again slipped on a mossy rock while reaching for his pipe and was once again treated to a mocking dunk in the cold, dark waters.

Emerging from the stream, boots sodden, Hully was strangely not angry. Somehow he found the absurdity and the comedy of a professional thief and killer being soaked to his britches appealing at this moment. He broke to a wide grin, then let a chuckle which took hold with in him and brought forth a full belly laugh. There he stood, water dripping from his pipe, oiled black leathers beading water in the moonlight, bowstring ruined.....and laughing happily in the selunelight and shadows.

A few days in Lowhill had indeed done Hully well.
Last edited by dergon darkhelm on Thu May 17, 2012 1:25 am, edited 1 time in total.
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dergon darkhelm
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Re: Stories about Hullurin Tosscobble -

Post by dergon darkhelm »

The Priest of Bane, Barid, was correct. It was obvious even at the time, but still Hully could not shake the urge to stab the dwarf where he stood. But even now, a full day later Hully still fumed with a now-quiet anger. He knew he was on edge, losing the cool detachment that served him so well throughout his career. He'd had men want to kill him before, hells, that was why he had to leave Waterdeep in the first place, but never had he lashed out so quickly against the notion, pinning himself into the corner where the only choice was to fight. That was not how a professional worked, and Hully knew it. Barid had been calm, had gotten what he needed, and made a contact for later. Hully had nearly ruined the whole of it.

The others knew it too. Hulurin had seen the look in Kallun's eye. He knew the look well. He'd given it many times himself before to crew members who had succumbed to irrationality.

Hully was becoming a liability.....and that was never a good thing.

The Bosun's Wife plowed roughly through ten foot seas making for Skaug once more, leaving the halfing a number of days to ponder...and stew. Below decks in his small cabin only one dim candle lit the room. Jafar was likely on deck. He hadn't spoke to him or the others since jumping on ship. They were only two days off of Alaron where they had met the dwarf who had placed the bounty on Barid, Jonathon, and himself. Xoran the dwarf was just a greedy pawn of the Dark Sun, but the urge to kill him had been near to irresistible nonetheless.... In the open and not twenty paces from the city watch. Anger was winning over professionalism. The priest was right to bargain and negotiate while Hully had wanted only vengeance.

He shook his head. He had been showing discipline in his study, each night running the forms of the Shadowstep and making prayers to the True Shadowlord. Men of prayer and discipline were supposed to become more peaceful, weren't they? Instead he had found an increasing need to kill over the last months. The gold was welcomed, of course, but Hully knew his feelings were different than in the past.

A dark cloud passed over, blotting the small port hole at the same time that the candle snuffed itself. Hully pulled himself from his introspection, knowing it was again time darkest night, time for his prayers.

"Shadowlord, Brandobaris, Trickster......... I don't know what path ye want me walkin' now. I sure could use some revelation, ye know. ye feel like showin' me?" Hully halted, for a moment having the audacity to expect an answer. After a long silence he nodded. "Right ...nothin'".

It took him another hour before he could muster the desire for further prayers and somehow, despite the divine empowerment that came to him, he felt more alone than before.
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Re: Stories about Hullurin Tosscobble -

Post by dergon darkhelm »

*The spring breeze, scented of violets and ravensrod, blew across Lowhill as the sun shone brightly. Hulurin Tosscobble sat alone at table near the beirgarten. He was still wrapped in the woolen blanket, the occasional chill still took him, but otherwise he looked well. The bags beneath his eyes had resolved as he sleep had improved. His apetite had returned in full force as evidenced by the licked-clean plate of fried fish with melon sause that lay on the table next to his cutty duskwood pipe. He smiled at the attractive halfling barmaid as she brought him another ale, his third today.

Hully felt more alive than he had in rides, perhaps years. He squinted against the bright sunshine, looking out into the distance. The peaks of the Aspenheight mountains were snowcapped in the disance and hawks flew over Habbelback hill. Three halfling children played orcs and Arvoreen, laughing and running past. Hully took a long drink of the ale. Yes, it was good to be alive.

Then Hully looked over to the rolled parchment and his smiled faded. He hadn't yet had the fortitude to open and read the document presented to him by Father Bogo immediately after his return from the dead, it's red seal unbroken. Apparantly, although Hully had no recollection of the occurrance, the priest had extracted a bargain from Hully to serve his god in exchange for being returned to life.

He wasn't even sure which god Father Bogo served. Was it Earthmother? Chauntea or Sheela Peryroyl? "Sure as shite ainna Brandobaris, ye kin wager that, Hully" he mused aloud. What bargain would he have made? Did the magic of resurrection somehow bind his spirit to the priest? When and how would Bogo extract payment from him?

Hulurin had many questions. The answers would come in time he supposed, the smile returning to his face as the children ran by once again. Regardless, Hully had life. Despite the debts to priests and comrades he had his life.

The breeze was cool, the sun warm and golden. He struck a tindertwig on his belt buckle and began to smoke his pipe. Hully was alive.......and that was a good thing.
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Re: Stories about Hullurin Tosscobble -

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Midsummer was approaching in Lowhill and to Hully's eyes the halflings of the island settlement embodied the very spirit of summer. Their days were busy with the happy toil of tending orchards and fields. The scent of salt air from the ocean mixed with the musk of turned earth and flowers in bloom as hin folk went about their pastoral duties.

Each visit to Lowhill reminded Hully of the duality of his existance. In the South, on Skaug, he killed and stole and lied. Here was peaceful, more as it *should* be, he thought. Now, as the sun westerned late in the day and the fireflies flitted about in the lengthening shadows, that feeling was even stronger. Day was giving way to night, light being pushed aside by darkness.

He sat in his favorite chair in the biergarten, smoking his pipe. Hully was able to ease back his cowl as sunset came. Since his return from the grave his eyes had been sensitive to bright light, a fact he tried his best to keep hidden to those who might exploit it back on Skaug, but here in Lowhill he had no such cares. He drifted into a contemplative state, blowing a well formed smoke ring and watching it dissipate into the evening sky above.

"You look well fed." Father Bogo's friendly voice spoke as he approach Hulurin. The priest had with some reluctance performed the rites that returned Hully from the grave and since that time the two had occasionally spoken on various matters. Hully smiled back at the elder halfling, patting the bench next to him and encouraging him to sit.

Bogo struck his own pipe and sat down. Hully pulled out a satchel, obviously filled with coins, and slid it over to the priest. Bogo accepted it with a slight nod of thanks. This was the third time Hully had visited to give over gold to help support the halflings of Lowhill. Despite being entirely illgotten on Skaug, Hully felt a lightness in his heart when he gave the gold over to his kin.....and he could use all the lightness he could find.

"I told you, Hulurin Tosscobble, that you returned from beyond not alone, but with a shadow."

Hully nodded silently, the lightness in his heart fading as quickly as it came.

"Your gold is welcomed here, but it does not change the fact that you are now different from other kin, Hulurin. You understand, yes?" The priest spoke gently but had a firmness in his tone that made Hully quirk an eye."

"You knew that the gods have required a task of you, a payment and a duty. It is near to time for you to undertake that task. No sacks of gold given over will remove that burden from upon your shoulders."

"Take this night in respite. Smoke and drink .....and laugh a bit. Then be gone South with the next high tide. Your time for repayment is come."

Hully simply nodded in acquiescence, remaining quiet and looking out over the hill. The priest slowly rose, collecting the satchel of gold.

"Blessings of all of the gods of our kin be on you, Hulurin Tosscobble." Hully though he saw the priest wince sadly as turned and made for the burrow.

"
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Re: Stories about Hullurin Tosscobble -

Post by DarkHin »

There's a lot here. I'll have to read it in portions. :P Really enjoy reading about hully and playing with him IC. Keep is up Dergon.
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