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GWAR! and Butchness quietly pack their things and head back to Ballyjack to recuperate and replenish the papier-mâché spikes on their armor.

Meanwhile, the approaching Toy Soldier has begun claiming it is the transmigrated soul of the recently lost Horton Portencium!

Just when I thought this place couldn't get any stranger.... I agree our best choice is with the wooden soldiers

Kurt hails the soldier "Well met might we get some aid for our fallen and our injured?"

Vanis, half-sarcastic, half-freaked out, mumbles a bit louder that he would : "Well sure then, let's follow the human-sized toy soldier, what could go wrong?"

Horton Portencium, transmigrated quartermaster

Toy soldier? Unable to summon his customary soft tut-tutting of disapproval, he makes do with an awkward clack-clack of his giant teeth which completely misses the mood.Recalling his literature he mutters, there is no sin except stupidity. Speaking louder to the group, I am a librarian in the guise of a wooden soldier. Let's go to the bivouac for assistance then we can pursue the rats in order to save the princess.

Not hearing any objections, I'll just move the party along.

Walking along and then away from the towering barricade of furniture and debris, the party heads towards the door marked "THE WISE MAY BE INSTRUCTED BY A FOOL."

Through the door is a vast library. White marble shelves reach the distant ceiling, stacked with books bound in a dazzling variety of colors and textures. It is a magnificent sight, but oddly distant, like trees seen over rooftops, because right in your face is the bustling tent city of the Toy Soldiers.

There are several large tents in the center, surrounded by dozens of smaller tents that each house one or two Toy Soldiers. A platoon of 40 soldiers is currently marching around the perimeter of the tent city—apparently not on guard duty, as they ignore your appearance entirely. Over the rattling clank of their march, you hear the sounds of carpentry. You smell woodsmoke, turpentine, and fresh paint... and, possibly cooking.

The Crooked Theodolite: The Great Library/Bivouac is 300' square.

You have entered it via its eastern door. There is another door, centered on the northern wall. The door itself is 60' wide and made of dark, red wood. It is set in an elaborately carved portal, including a bas-relief tympanum depicting a riot of figures clustered before a pair of bells.

Horton:

Horton Portencium, transmigrated quartermaster

As they approach the entrance he eyes the motto over the door with distaste, uncomfortably aware that he had just been the one to direct the group to the bivouac.

He stops and stares in awe at the ocean of parchment before him, just the thought of organizing and filing the immense library sends shivers of delight through his timbers. Then his eyes drop to the mundane tent city below and he sighs with the realization that this will be his lot instead. I bet they only use them for kindling, he mutters morosely.

Horton speaks up to the group, I think I know where their sawbones is. We can check to see if he can help our wounded though he may only deal in wood. Shall we?

Kurt "Dealing only in wood may help us at least get a new leg for Jake at least."

Hans "Jake what do you think of having a wooden leg?"

Kurt "Dealing only in wood may help us at least get a new leg for Jake at least."

Hans "Jake what do you think of having a wooden leg?"

Brick: Now there's an idea that has legs.

sorry.

Deet follows meekly along, mumbling and wide-eyed at the walking talking toy men, and the stunning number of books.

Schroff trots off, curiously weaving in and out of tents and shelves, sniffing everything.

A long-awaited map update!

A horribly dressed man in a dumb looking hat who has clearly recently burned off his own moustache in some sort of accident approaches the party through the crowd of wooden soldiers. "Ahem!...er... ahoy, there, as it were! Is this the "adventure" mission? Name's Wikerus - I came from town. Couple of outlandishly dressed fellows in papier-mâché clothes pointed me this way... now I've come to save the day!" Here he lamely holds up an improperly gripped hatchet and a net of some sort, "...the, ah, guy at the store said this'd be all I'd need." After a moment of taking in the bedraggled state of the party he adds, "Are you winning?"

GreyWolfVT wrote:Kurt "Dealing only in wood may help us at least get a new leg for Jake at least."

Hans "Jake what do you think of having a wooden leg?"

Any leg is better than no leg at all. Jake sounds gloomy, but his smile is unchanged. He hobbles along, using the haft of his maul as an improvised crutch.

He gawks around as only a straggly-looking teenager can, taking in the campsite and the massive library beyond.

'Shaggy' Beaker

will drag the unfortunate Mouse into the toy soldier camp. He will look about and enquire for the duty medical officer and say that, "One of the men have suffered a grievous wound following the call of duty. Perhaps he can have a 'Purple Heart' and be revived in some way?"

Beaker will leave Mouse with the medics if allowed and then go to look at the bas-relief of folk surrounding the bell. Is it a famed bell he might know about. Bellringing and campanology being 'his thing'.

Horton Portencium

He takes a moment to look the newcomer up and down. Well, whatever practical joke you are the butt of, they obviously decided to make us a part of it as well. Don't know why I expected any better. Come along then, and try and stay away from matches.

With newcomer in tow, the party makes it their first priority to find medical help.

Near the center of camp, you find a large, airy tent with a caduceus painted in delicate yellow curlicues on its front. Inside are twenty cots. A couple Toy soldiers are lying down, and a few more stand stiffly at attention next to their cots.

In the middle of the tent, a small carpenters shop has been set up. Nearby is a desk with a deep carpet of papers spilling from every edge. Behind the desk is a small mountain of very old leather satchels.

The Doctor, another toy soldier but with his coat painted a glossy white and a fine fuzz of wood chips and sawdust, bustles over to you.Addressing Horton, his great-toothed moth clanks: "What do you have here, Soldier?"

Wikerus Blume

coil23 wrote:Horton Portencium

He takes a moment to look the newcomer up and down. Well, whatever practical joke you are the butt of, they obviously decided to make us a part of it as well. Don't know why I expected any better. Come along then, and try and stay away from matches.

"It's my pleasure! ...Just point the way to the treasure!" replies Wikerus, immediately regretting the idiotic rhyme. "I... er, never mind. Let me know if you need anything 'netted,' I guess," he adds, indicating his net, then saunters over to help examine the carvings on the door. They're all quite a bit better than anything he's ever rendered in stone. By quite a margin. He sighs.

Horton Portencium

He looks again at the unintentional rhymer. Actually, the netting may be quite useful in dealing with the rats. He is shocked that this well-meaning incompetent may prove a valued part of the team. He lowers his voice conspiratorially, but be careful with the rhyming. He nods toward GWAR and Butchness and mouths: it makes them violent. He turns back around before his mischievous smile gives him away. I just can't help myself. Nothing like some good fomenting to give party dynamics some color. Returning his face to the accustomed tired sourness, he addresses the "physician".

Responding to the sawbones, we return from a fracas with the rats. We hope to get patched up and then set off in search of where they have hidden the princess. As you can see, we have a trans-species contingent for this dirty work. So we will need flesh-healing and food in addition to rest for these folk before we set out again on our mission.

Vanis Huckle, Traumatized Sweet Maker

"And please, take note: these are wounds..." he says, pointing at the party's wounded. "...While these are fine body parts that need no fixing whatsoever." he then adds, pointing at his own safe and sound body, and at his few unharmed comrades.

He then takes a few steps back to go stare into the eyes of the newcomer with a ghastly gaze. "Hey. Never split the party. Alright? Never."

After a dramatic pause, he shakes hands and goes back to staring at the toy doctor with suspicion.

The doctor nods his creaking head as he looks over the party. Giving Jake's bloody stump an indelicate prod with his wooden finger, he says, "Hmm. Very soft wood. Pine? What's that? Flesh? Hrm. Flesh... skin and viscera and... fluids, is it? I think I did my schooling in flesh, you know. The ilium connects to the pubis, the pubis connects to the ischium, that sort of thing. But that would have been... I think I still have a Silenius or two around here, somewhere."

Wizard Lizard wrote:"And please, take note: these are wounds..." he says, pointing at the party's wounded. "...While these are fine body parts that need no fixing whatsoever." he then adds, pointing at his own safe and sound body, and at his few unharmed comrades.

"Ah. Good, good. Good to have a point of reference." Turning back to Horton and dusting off his hands (which sounds like shutters flapping in a gale), he says, "This is all very interesting, and Im glad you brought them by. It stirs up the tickle of a distant memory, which is not an unpleasant sensation. If they'd like to rest they're welcome to stretch out on the cots as long as they aren't being used by Soldiers. Of course, I can't provide them with Army services or materials unless they enlist. Cookie will say the same thing, vis-à-vis grub."

To the rest of the party: "If you want to enlist—and may the King's blessing rest on you, if you do—you should go to the officer's tent. Speak with anyone with a gold braid on their shoulder."

I should point out that GWAR! and Butchness have left the party.

Kurt "Then enlist I shall. Hans come we need to go speak to an officer." that being said Kurt heads off to locate an officer and enlist himself and Hans.

Hans sighs rolls his eyes and begrudgingly follows his master's son to go enlist. "If we must we must sir."