Morris Purcandel
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Name: Morris Purcandel
Account: Giffipper((I rarely do these because I'm a lazy-butt!))
A deep thuggish voice echoed down the cave followed by the ding-a-ling of a small dinner bell "DINNAH! DINNAH!"
Young human, Morris Purcandel, dressed in his uniform of an ill-fitting maid's dress slapped his hands to his cheeks "Oh my gods! I haven't even added rosemary yet!"
In situations so queer, an explanation must be in order. You see, Morris had found himself a captive of a tribe of ogres in Muranndin - The Rock Bloods lead by a surprisingly intelligent elder known as B'tol the Great and Wise and Wonderful. It was there in the chamber of B'tol that as Morris swept the floors and ordered the scrolls, he would from time to time stumble upon a book which he might have time to read when most of the tribe were out pillaging, looting, plundering or playing a sporting match of Headbutt. From these books, Morris learned many things - at least theoretically - he learned what it might be like to fight with a sword, and a spot of history here or there. Morris was born of a small forest dwelling family and prior to his capture set off to discover the world, and at this time books were his only means of discovery beyond what he discovered of the life of ogres.
It also happens that from one of these books did Morris devise a plot to make his escape and it was on this fateful day he would employ this plot to secure freedom.
"Just a minute" called Morris in a sing-song voice as he sprinkled, very liberally and perhaps too liberally, a whole cooked bovine with rosemary.
"NOW! NOW!" the voice echoed back up the chamber followed once again by the dainty jingle of a dinner bell.
Morris signaled for the other slaves to cart the meal out to the dining hall and following them he took with himself an enclosed platter balanced on his left hand and a carving knife in the other. The slaves scuttled down the hall pushing the well cooked bovine into the dining hall where sat a dozen or so grumpy, ugly, smelly, rotund, ill-refined, not-very-nice, homely, mannerless ogres with B'tol the elder sitting at the head of a rickety dining table.
As soon as the meal was placed on the table, actually somewhat moments before it was placed, the ogres began ripping hunks of meat off the bones and greedily swallowing the greasy fragrant flesh. The slaves dashed to the sides of the chamber, lest they be mistaken for a course. Unbeknownst to the ogres the rosemary besides adding excellent flavour to the dish (they didn't notice) was primarily all part of Morris' deception - for it kept the true secret ingredient well hidden.
"Muros!" said B'tol (as much as an ogre may say rather than yell) "Muros says wants to fight. Muros says free he will be in fight-trial!" announced B'tol. The ogres burst out in roaring laughter, spitting foul chewed up meat chunks around the room which the slaves immediately scuppered about throwing into buckets for the dogs. "What of you fight Muros when Dinnah done?"
"I break his BONES, I break his FACE! Muros cook with woman spice, I no like it!" yelled one ogre.
"No! It my turn to fight. I take off his face, put back on upside down, then crush each limb with rock!" said one ogre, laughing maniacally.
It was at this point Morris was beginning to second guess his plan, and yet it was too late. He had informed B'tol that he wished trial by combat for his freedom as was custom amongst most ogre tribes in the region of Muranndin.
Finally one ogre, the runt of the litter standing at a mere eight and three quater feet tall, banged his fist on the dining table when the meal had become but a pile of bones and fat drippings. "Most new of tribe, means must fight!" growled the runty ogre. All the other ogres went silent and looked to B'tol to see if this was true. B'tol shrugged. The ogres suddenly overturned the table and pushed it to the wall as slaves screamed running out of the way. The opponents had been decided then, and it was now that Morris must either escape or die.
Morris ripped off his maid dress for mobility and in his undergarments took up his carving knife and enclosed platter. The runt ogre on the other hand snapped the dining table in half and held one half above his head. When the rest of the ogres had shuffled into a circle B'tol finally announced "Fight!" signalling with his dinner bell.
Morris placed the platter on the ground and lifting the lid, retaining it as a shield, he revealed a strange contraption sitting on the platter. The ogre runt frowned in confusion while Morris dived behind a stalagmite. The ogre stomped near the platter sending vibrations down the cave floor toward the odd contraption, a design Morris had learned from one of B'tol's old books and made from a few stolen bits and pieces here and there. Without getting too technical, it began spitting hot acid into the ogre's groin, just about where a human-sized beings face might be. The ogre runt howled in pain and using his great strength send the dining half-table flying toward Morris like a dwarf inventively using a catapult to siege a fort. The table split against the stalagmite, some of the splinters cutting Morris across the body as he held the platter lid in front of his face.
When Morris lowered the platter he could see all at once the ogre's genitals melt into a sizzling pile of goop between its ankles. Meanwhile the rest of the ogres began to feel a sudden haze overcome them as the tainted meal began to digest. B'tol, stumbling about raised his voice "Poi-zon!" and at that signal the other slaves seeing the opportunity took up arms - pots, pans, brooms and meat cleavers. The ogres, weakened by the poison, but not overcome completely struggled to stop slaves from climbing over them. Some slaves were flung across the room and had their skulls splintered into pink brain filled chunks against the rock walls. B'tol began wildly flinging spells, searing slaves with flames.
Seeing the ogres still with enough strength to put up a fight, most of the slaves began to dash toward the cave exit, and Morris followed suit "We can't fight them, but they're too weak to follow us!" a scream followed an explosion of magical spells flinging out from the mouth of the cave as the slaves scattered in different directions into the surrounding forest.
And thus begins the true journey of Morris Purcandel, historian, gentleman and adventurer!
((Forgive any typos I wrote it in one sitting))
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Reviewed, XP Pending!
