Savage Tide: ECL 8 Ethel Schmidt half-ogre human rogue 3 warlock 1 cleric 3: Journal 3

What was her name

A note has been added to the earlier sketch.

Savage Tide: ECL 8 Ethel Schmidt half-ogre human rogue 3 warlock 1 cleric 3: Journal 2

Ethel appears to have lovingly rendered this image of Cayo Topa and Bonedeath in her journal.

Savage Tide: ECL 7 Ethel Schmidt half-ogre human rogue 3 warlock 1 cleric 2: Journal 1

Rock

There was a rock

I stepped on it

It stepped on me

I was the rock

Genevieve

genevieve

egeneviev

vevienege

vievengee

vegineeev

genevieve is a weird name

Sailing

A boat is a woman

With barely a sheet to cover her

Tied up in lots of ropes

And ridden

Shackled City: ECL 6 Ethel Schmidt Goblin Scout 3 Rogue 2: Journal 6

Shit.  I forgot to split open the hobbit's gut and take his coins.  That's right, ain't it?  Hobbits keep money in their bellies?  Otto told me that once I think.

Wait, no.  It was ol chief Shaftkiss.  Ugh.  We was always cuttin open hobbits in those days and there wasn't never no coins in em.  Still made us do it tho.  Sometimes he'd take the runtiest of us and cut him open too just to make sure we wasn't holdin anything back.  Then everyone had ta eat the tripe.

But one time a screg choked on the gob guts cause there was a coin in em.  So, smart move I guess.  Can't believe he's still with me now tho.  What a fuckin drippin shitfroth lunatic.                                           fuck

He was pretty good at what he did tho, ol Gagknob.  Splittin open hobbits.  I guess I kinda owe him in a way, how well he taught me, seein as to all the hobbits I gots to gut from day to day.  HA HA but no.  He can swallow a coupla gallons of his own piss thru his own sawed-off pecker.  Then I'll help him get that gold out of his belly, show him how well I learned.

Damn, I'm gettin myself excited.  I gotta find a roll a coins to hide in my own belly if you catch my drift.  Too bad dumb bitch with her fuckin razor blade door don't got no head.  Wouldn't even have to wake her up.

Triel, beautiful, why ain't you got no cock an balls?  Mostly all the ladies in that book a yours got a set.  I'll untie ya, baby, and we'll put the wizard in a cage til he does the spell what gives us really big ones, I know he's got one or two that can make em long as yer arm.  Then we can each take one end til he's ready to go back in the cage, right next to the one for priests with their balls cut off what suggest these cages is for goblins.

Vershnat, I'm pathetic.  We've kept this broad on ice for mostly all the time since we met her and here I'm sittin spinnin tales about us as lovers again.  As much as they been thumpin her skull she probably won't do more than drool when she wakes up.  If she wakes up.  She won't be so sexy anymore then.

Fuck it, it ain't like any of these prudes would take me up on it even if I offered em a dip.  I'm honestly startin to eye the raccoon.

Maaaaaaaaaan.

This is the pits.

If it ain't bad enough I'm so pent up, it's gotta be three days now we been in this puckery asshole they call a cave.  This is not what I signed up for, ya know?  Seriously reconsiderin tryin to refurbish the place.  Just bein here is drivin me skitterin mad.  I mean, have ya read all that shit I wrote just now?

Cause I did, and honestly it's some a my best work.  Like, a spell to give ya magic man-meat?  Seriously gotta ask Osiris if he can do that.  Oh, duh!  That's where I been goin wrong.  He probably wanted to but didn't think I'd go for it.  You don't gotta be shy, Mr. Elf.  I'll give ya a railin any way ya like it.

Shit, still got the itch.  Where'd I put that book?

Shackled City: ECL 6 Ethel Schmidt Goblin Scout 3 Rogue 2: Journal 5

You know it's gettin really bad when even giant spiders bore ya.  Don't know what we were expectin.  It ain't like they gave any of these lousy wands over to a bunch a bugs for safekeepin.

They made us sleep in here last night.  It's fine I guess.  I wasn't plannin on it tho.  Maybe I'm gettin soft.  I tried to get em to go back to Triel's room.  There was more pillows there.  And a pool.  And a lockin door covered in razor blades.  But I guess they was too tired to walk down the hall.  Elves for you, huh?

Speakin of Triel she was a lot more interestin when she was conscious.  It's a damn shame but I think it'll be easier for me and also everybody else if I just slit her throat now while she's still sleepin.  These folks don't got the guts to go thru with it.

But I sorta want her to be lookin me in the eyes when it happens.

Shackled City: ECL 6 Ethel Schmidt Goblin Scout 3 Rogue 2: Journal 4

Those bastards burnt down my gondola!

That's it.  Nobody else is leavin here alive without my say-so.  I ain't gonna stand here while the gates to my new fortress walk off on their own.  It was stupid to let em go in the first place.  Vershnat knows I woulda done worse in their place.  If I was them and they was me I'd be blind an naked an bleedin out in an alley.  I mean they me, not me them.

On the plus side we got our mitts on the cunt who was runnin this show.  Or I would have if the holy men weren't in the way.  It ain't like she weren't offerin.  But they'd rather punch her out and roll her in a rug.  I don't mean that in the fun way neither.

She's got fascinatin taste in readin material tho.  Honestly she's fascinatin all around.  I kinda hope they don't kill her.  Look at me, am I a little smitten maybe?  Oh well.  Don't tell nobody.  You know it's been a while.  I don't even care she tried to kill me with razor blades.  It hurt but I think the scars is kinda eyecatchin.  I wanna tell her I'll be gentle but I know she wouldn't like that.  I read the book after all.

Anyway, I betta make sure the dragon ain't plannin on dunkin himself again.  Unless it's to dredge up my gondola.  ~~~

Shackled City: ECL 5 Ethel Schmidt Goblin Scout 3 Rogue 1: Journal 3

Found the head honcho of lake affairs.  Still honcho, less head.  Tragic.

Missed the shipment, too.  Tragicker.  Told em it was out of my hands, which it was, really.  Hard to pick sides before you can tell who's winnin.  They're mad if they thought I was luggin all that back by myself anyway, so if it chafes em they can bite my twat.

At least I could squeeze em for the place they took Mr. Honcho's wands.  Cuthbert himself gave me the tip right in front of everybody.  Not much for subtlety, but gods usually ain't.  I think most of em had me pegged anyway.

Oh yeah: the wands are for stoppin the flood.  I dunno, personally, I think it might improve the place if more of it was underwater.  Picture it: "Cauldron, now with bigger lake!"  They'll be linin up at the gates.  No?  Your loss.

So, we're in a cave, right?  Watch the first step.  Long drop, and water for ages.  Gotta gondola tho, which is pure class.  The rooms is cozy, too.  I could get used to livin in a place like this, only there's this smell.  Maybe dad's cookbook has somethin I could whip up for that.

That's if anything's left standin when we're through.  Somewhere between here and the Lucky Monkey, the dragon figured out how to teleport.  I know, right?  It's like if a bull could teleport into a china shop.  Tragickest yet.  Every time we lose sight a him, the place loses anotha load-bearin wall and he loses anotha few gallons a blood.  He's fallen ass first into about ten different flavors a spikes and needles, and don't get me started on the great big honkin dragon skeleton.  He don't gripe much tho.  I mean the dragon, not the skeleton.  Tho I can see how you'd be confused.

(Note to self: get this guy's blood appraised.)

Otha than that, it's been surreal.  We're like this deputized police force for the big-G Good Guys.  I never been in one a those before.  Mostly because I generally ain't given the chance to get anywhere near a bunch a magic wands whetha they been abdupted by a evil cult or not.  Apparently Osiris here has been seen about town thwartin the fell plots with a bunch of otha jerks, so they started trustin em with betta jobs.  Only the otha jerks turned up M.I.A. so now he's got us.

He don't seem too interested in claimin the leader's hat tho.  We don't got much in leaders really.  At first I thought we was all united in our love of lithe, oiled-up gladiators.  So I was lookin to our resident oiled-up gladiator and waitin for him to start barkin orders like a real army man.  But nobody seems to wanna listen to the poor precious babe.  But he don't seem to talk much either, more just stares.  I'm used to that tho.

So I guess these folks is pretty malleable.  And yet they got a lotta talent, so that's good news.  Maybe I can give em a little harmless encouragement.  Steer em to where the real money is.  While the dragon's in anotha room.

Shackled City: ECL 5 Ethel Schmidt Goblin Rogue 1 Scout 3: Journal 2

So I just got to Cauldron, right?  Nothin much happenin so far.  I get the feeling this place don't see too many tourists, seein as all they got to brag about's the big lake in the middle.  Wow, a lake.  Real exciting, fellas.  Sure it's in a volcano, but let me know when the lava's scheduled to come around, alright?

Anyway, they got an arena at least.  I went to see a few bouts.  Mostly all there was to see was a bunch of toothless yahoos wrestlin with mountain lions.  Now don't take that the wrong way, I'll watch that any day of the week, but can we get a little mano-a-mano?  Maybe they don't got enough violent criminals.

Whatever, I'm gettin sidetracked.  Get this: they got an elf in there.  What a character!  I think he actually walked into the ring with a rose in his teeth.  Who does that anymore?  Musta been disappointed as I was when they threw another cat at him.

Of course I found my way ova to the fighters' exit when it was done to see if he's got any groupies.  Turns out he does but they're all of 'em men!  Go figure, huh?

Well, I had nothin betta to do so now I'm playin fag hag to this buncha queens.  Don't take me wrong, tho, it's a blast, these guys is always gettin into bar brawls and shit.  And I even got to go to a fancy ball as a plus one, can you believe it?

So anyway the lake festival or whatever is over now.  I was startin to think that was just how they were, all swimmin around and singin lake songs just to stave off thoughts a suicide.  Now we got a job lookin for the guy who's s'posed ta keep the lake from floodin.  I can tell me and this lake are gonna get to know each other real well.

Shackled City: ECL 5 Ethel Schmidt Goblin Rogue 1 Scout 3: Journal 1

The morning was quiet at Cauldron's north gate.  It was quiet most mornings.  A couple of guardsmen stood by languidly.  One of them unscrewed a flask and started to drink.

His partner chose that moment to elbow him hard in the ribs, making him choke.  "Hup, look sharp Oss, someone's comin'."  As Oss recovered from his coughing fit, the other man, oblivious, added, "Looks weird."

"Damn it, Rig, I would've seen 'em sooner or later."  He squinted down the path, but couldn't make out much but a distant blur.  "What's so weird got's your nose out of joint anyway."

"Looks green," said Rig.  "And big ol' ears I think.  Or a hat."

"Well, he's comin' pretty slow, but in few minutes you can ask where he got it.  Now shut up and stand up straighter."  And they stood and waited, trying to look the part.

By the time Ethel got there, they were failing to look the part.  She could tell she was the subject of much hushed and furious speculation.  She smiled at the guardsmen in a way she hoped would be taken as friendly and tried to hurry through.  But here came the familiar cry, "Oi, hold it right there, you," and she rolled her eyes and turned to receive her punishment.

Oss cleared his throat.  "State your business!"  Rig stood slightly behind him, peering around at her, his eyebrows crawling further and further up his forehead.

She scratched her head, trying to decide on the line a couple of public servants were most likely to swallow.  For once, she decided to try the truth, or some of it, anyway.  "I'm an alchemist and a mage, sirs, come to ply my trade and join the Academy.  Buy an unguent?"  She fluttered her eyelashes innocently.

Rig raised a finger and started to open his mouth, nodding, but Oss spoke first.  "You ain't no mage.  Mages is old men with long beards and pointy hats.  That or elves.  You's about as far from either of those as I can think of."  Rig's nod morphed into a disapproving shake.

Ethel heaved a theatrical sigh.  "You've caught me out, gen'lmen.  I'm a whore from Sasserine, an' I heard the madames around here care for their girls better'n we're used to up there.  Buy an 'unguent'?"

They stared in shock.  Slowly, Rig started to raise a finger again, but Oss turned to him in horror and smacked his hand down.  Then he sharply returned his gaze to Ethel and demanded, "What the hell are you, anyway?"

She looked down at herself like she'd never considered this question before, then shrugged up at him.  "Half-orc?"

"Half-orc!" he said.  "You're barely three feet tall!"

She nodded.  "Right, about half an orc.  Any other questions?"

Oss shut his eyes and massaged his temples, waving her on.  "Whatever.  Go on, get out of my sight.  Don't cause any trouble."  He began to walk back to his post, and Ethel strode into the city.  Hesitantly, Rig called after her, "Good luck, miss!"

*              *              *

After she was gone, Oss fixed Rig with a hard stare.  "Are you fuckin' serious?"

Shackled City: ECL 5 Ethel Schmidt Goblin Rogue 1 Scout 3: Bio

Not all that long ago, in the grand scheme of things, a fairly unusual child was born.  The father was a young goblin man, recently come of age and scouting for resources for his tribe.  The mother was a nymph.

If you could find that nymph, you could ask her how it happened, but she wouldn't tell you.  The goblin, on the other hand, would be all too happy to, if he hadn't mysteriously gone blind and died.

Soon after birth, the nymph brought the baby girl to the late father's tribe.  No words were exchanged.  After she was out of sight, the goblins exchanged dumbfounded glances, then broke into cheers.  What followed was a night of feasting and celebration in memory of the man who fell in the line of duty.  The daughter would be named Vrinnat, and the chieftain would raise her as his own.

Or so he thought.  As it turned out, she was a difficult child.  Teenage rebellion is not much known among goblins, partly because their life tends to suit them fine, and partly because they rarely live to be teenagers.  But the touch of the fey had made the girl contrary.  She demanded special treatment, like clothes and a bed.

Ultimately, she refused to be forced into an arranged marriage with the son of the chief of a neighboring tribe.  It's a story as old as time, one that's been told and retold, but usually with a happy ending.  Goblins haven't read any of those stories, though.  If she hadn't fled, she would have been slaughtered and eaten.  Everyone was getting really curious if half-nymphs tasted anything like elves, anyway.

The first living creature she met after leaving the tribe was an alchemist named Otto, a city-dwelling human, out in the woods on a day-trip doing whatever alchemists do in the woods.  He was terrified of her at first, but became fascinated after she chased him down, tied him to a tree with his own 50' hemp rope, and told him her story.  He took her in, and at her insistence, gave her a human name.

Vrinnat, now Ethel, found that even fairly meager accommodations for a human were paradise compared to the squalorous goblin village she had known.  Still, Otto struggled to support the two of them with his trade, and Ethel found she took to thievery very naturally.  He didn't much feel like asking where the money was coming from.

Of course, it caught up with her, as these things tend to, and she had to split town.  After a brief but tearful goodbye to the only real father she had ever known, she was on the road.