3. A Halfling named Doobie

A Halfling named Doobie

  • ?

    Doobie was just a score days past his seventeenth birthday when the wanderlust hit him. That very night unable to sleep he packed his new leather napsac given to him by his cousin Biggi. Bright and early that morning he kissed his mother and sister good bye and was off into the cool autumn breeze. Although sad as it was for her to see him go a mother lightfoot would never try to hinder the calling of wanderlust. To do so would stunt a halfling’s mind and curiosity. The bright reds and yellows of Elmshire’s trees bid farewell to the young Lightfoot halfling giving him a crisp vision to remember on those dark nights beyond the borders of his home.

    In the summer sun two years after leaving home Doobie found himself sitting on a boulder in the Giantspire Mountains. A few feet away from him lay the massive corpse of a rusty skinned ogre. There kneeling down, resting his hands on a giant spiked club was a huge half-orc barbarian gasping for breath. After a minute or so the barbarian slowly stood up and began searching through the blood soaked sack at the dead ogre’s side. Doobie looked at him curiously as the half-orc spilled out a stream of coins. “Um pardon. Hey there! Excuse me!” the halfling called out but was totally ignored by the body looter. Hoping off his perch the Lightfoot halfling strode over to the barbarian with an accusing finger. “I believe half of that would be mine.” Doobie scolded.

    In the middle of one big scoop of coins the savage acknowledged him with a snarl “And why dat little elf?”. Doobie stopped a few paces away and replied with his hands on his hips “Because I distracted him just as he was about to finish you off you oaf! If not for me he would be looting your dead body right now!”. Frowning the halfbreed closed his eyes trying to remember the battle through his bloodrage. A moment later he sluggishly opened them and gave Doobie curt nod “You right Mr. Itty Bitty. You help Morn, Morn give you shinies” and with that handed the halfling a massive handful of coins.

    “Well thats better” Doobie replied cheerfully scooping the money into is napsac. “I’m Doobie from Elmshire, beyond the Great Dale to the south.”.

    “Me Morn da Mountain. I from Narfell grassland. Me great warrior!” he proclaimed holding a bone necklace in his great claw of a hand. “Come Doo Doo, I show you me home” and started down the mountain path.

    “Um, thats DooBIE” corrected the halfling running to keep pace with his new companion.

    “Goblins!” Doobie cried with tears in his eyes. For many months he and Morn had traveled up and down through the Giantspire Mountains visiting little villages and snow covered towns. They found odd jobs that mostly consisted of slaying beasts that harassed the local townfolk. The two of them were a great team, Doobie would scout and Morn would slay. He looked down at his friends lying in the spiked pit some twenty feet below. Spikes bursting up through the barbarian’s chest and thighs. Doobie blamed himself for Morn stumbling into the deadly trap. It was he who was supposed to scout, find and flag these traps for his huge friend. “Goblins!” he cried out again “Stupid goblins!”. Doobie and Morn had encountered many of the creatures in their time together and always found them to be more of an annoyance. It was that thinking that had taken Doobie’s brain and laxed his mind so he missed the hidden pit.

    The yips of the goblins grew closer reminding the halfling that he must go now if he would escape a worse death than the half-orc. Scrambling into the pit Doobie broke the bone necklace off of his hulking companions body and vowed “I shall bring you home to the land of your youth.”. With that he hurried out of the death trap and made his way to the realm of Narfell with his friends token.

    Login: Duke of Bishop
    Character: Doobie


  • Reviewed - XP Pending.