Dark Moon Rising
Toad’s Wild Ride
Takes place during the 17th Session – New Moons
Toad awoke sore and disoriented in the cold stone chambers of the trollkin. Struggling to regain consciousness the memories of his wild night with Ano and capture by gang thugs came back to him in jagged puzzle pieces. He had agreed to back up Ano at a small bar on the further of the two Wake islands. A dangerous place even if you are invited there which he was pretty sure they weren’t. The bar was much more comfortable than the name ‘Bowels’ had led him to expect. Ano supplied the required password and Toad entered a few minutes behind him settling in for a cheap drink. He didn’t really see much and left after Ano had scouted around and slid into a back room for several uncomfortable minutes. It wasn’t until they were over the bridge and back on Hospice when Ano pointed out they were being followed. Ano skipped ahead and up into the rigs to lose them. Toad, being a competent climber followed. That was a big mistake. It took only moments for the dexterous pursuers to scale and surround Toad and cut him down. Just before losing consciousness he saw Ano lose his rope, presumably cut, and fall out of sight. The gobber was born in the rigs though and Toad doubted he was going to be so easy prey. His next memory was of the loud crashing splinter of shredding wood. Thrashing wildly Toad was able to smash out of the crate he was stuffed in but couldn’t free himself of the chains. The boat he was in disintegrated around him and he gulped in a quick breath before he was sucked under the freezing darkness. The next thing he saw, or maybe just dreamed he saw, was a snakey trail of bleached white spines slipping past him gracefully before abandoning him to the inky blackness. His eyes bulged, muscles strained, and body sank. A warrior born, tempered, and sworn dying so stupidly. His famous steely bravery fled him and his mouth opened in a scream releasing the last of his precious air. As water flooded burning into his lungs a vicelike grip caught him round his bicep and then nothing.
It had been trollkin swimmers that saved him of course, though it would be some time before he understood what they were doing out in waters. Toad was anxious to find the rest of the Troubleshooters and be sure Ano was alright. He was greeted by Feral Stoneborn, one of the kith chiefs here and told they would be back shortly. It had been Stoneborn’s swimmers who had saved Toad and he pledged himself in the trollkin’s debt. The chief was dismissive of the human’s oath but encouraged him to eat and rest more. Impatient but starving, Toad devoured the crusty black bread and huge pile of mussels brought to him and paced the adjoining cavernous chambers. He watched as several dozen trollkin gathered in some sort of angry protest, stoked by a grizzled speaker with darkly spotted skin. Stoneborn in a nearby chamber, seemed to pay them no mind, absorbed with consulting swimmers emerging periodically from the back caverns. After an hour of this the Troubleshooters finally arrived and Toad rejoined them on their walk back to the guildhouse. Ano was a little shaken up but otherwise fine.