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Subject: [GREYTALK] forwarded message
Robilar Remembers? [Was Old Campaign Synopses]
Thu, 04 Sep 1997 13:56:19 +0000
To: Gary R Welsh
> Now, Dek, I'm not against your point of view but I don't see why we can't
> have some variety of product.
How about detailed areas of the Wild Coast? That was a project of mine previous to giving up the ghost with the old TSR regime. Also Stoink is a winner, hands down. Castle Greyhawk has tremendous potential—and this would be reworked from existing data. My castle El Raja Key and its many sub plots—the list is endless for adventure. And note my market plan for other insights.
> G.R. Welsh
> CY 597 – the scene: an early autumn morning in a Velunan Cathedral. Qu[iet?]
> acolytes, going about their duties, look up in shock as a cry of outrage
> comes from inside the confessional booth:
> “You did WHAT?!? You freed Iuz AND Zuggtmoy?!?! BOTH?!?”
> Robilar shrugged. “I didn't say I was proud of it.”
For the first time in his career the acolyte could not give his blessing, for his heart burst on the spot. “Yurh-aghhh, uhhhhh...,” was all that Lord Robilar heard. He stood and walked from the cathedral and proceeded down an alley.
As Robilar walked he thought of the changed times, mostly about his old—no, he meant “earlier,” nope, it was “old”--friends and enemies. It was all so very strange.
Tenser was reported dead. His one time friend and later his staunchest enemy. Strange. And they claimed he had committed the foul deed. Certainly not without a bit of talk and torture first, he thought. Not even in his blackest moods of those days would he have dispatched such a highly regarded foe without first talking to him, bragging and claiming how much more powerful he was, and all that. After all. He was a villain.
Then Mordenkainen: There had been sporadic murmurs from every wizard he’d met and questioned about the Circle of Eight. How it was now Five, or six on sundays when the old circle members made in effigy a scarecrow likeness of Rary, which was thereafter pummeled by those cudgel wielding priests he disliked so much. But word of Mordenkainen was nowhere to be heard. It was as if he’d disappeared into the mist of fairy. Where were you old friend?
Of course Otto remained, helping and guiding him from afar. But even his pudgy old helper seemed to lack the verve of yester-year. These days his dance was more like a shuffle and he squeaked out the accompanying lines to his ditties. Poor Otto. Once so vibrant and alive. How could this be?
And then there were the other odd facts: That Terik was his brother. Well yes, brother in arms, not blood brother. And what about the Rary affair. Oh, he would redress that upon arriving in Greyhawk. And then the other rumors of the many atrocities he’d supposedly committed with that foul snake of a wizard, Rary. It was as if the Gods had beguiled Greyhawk in his abscence, cast a confusion on the very minds and souls of the populace. It was strange, and he’d get to the bottom of this. At least he had Quij, still. He looked about him.
“Quij?” Confound it! He’d left him outside the cathedral and the orc had probably wandered off. That was not so good since they were in Veluna. Lord Robilar retraced his steps to the Cathedral…
To be contionued?
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