Look at that shiny little widget over there! Now y'all can really see that I'm on track! I'm glad that OLL got them up :D

Also: today's offering is the first official use of Write or Die by Dr. Wicked! I have to get up at 8 tomorrow and so I wanted to be done quickly. And I was! Here you are:


She was a dark woman, immigrated from the exotic lands to the south, most likely along with some valuable ivory, gold, and spices. Her curly brown hair was streaked with tawny strands and was teased back from her head, standing straight up in an onion shaped pouf. The dim, yellowish light glinted off her white teeth, revealed in a huge, mad grin as she moved up to the table to examine Main. The grin faded slightly as she began to examine Main’s wounds, and disappeared completely as she turned away from him, muttering fiercely, and produced a mortar and pestle and began to grind some dried herbs in it, her biceps moving under the skin as she crushed leaves, twigs, and fresh plant pieces in the pottery mortar. She muttered soflty over the mush, then added some water and more plant pieces, crushing it all into a paste. She heated water over the fire and dipped a rag in it, wringing out the water before cleaning out the wounds on Main’s chest and ribs. The wounds, which had begun to clot, began to bleed freely again as the herb wife cleaned away the dirty scabs. Last moved forward in an abortive attempt to stop her, but the walrus put a massive flipper before her, saying softly, “Let her be. She know vhat she be doing.” Last looked worriedly at the walrus and then back at Main – she was very fond of him for a reason she couldn’t really fathom, and she wanted him to be okay. Lord Squigglebottom FAncypants was also staring at Main, but his face had a frightening expression on it: his eyes were wide and bright, and his mouth slightly open, exposing sharp, white teeth. In the dim lighting, he looked especially sinistier – until, that is, he seemed to suddelnlyy recollect where he was, cough, and look away.

The herb wife, having finished cleaning Main’s wounds, took the paste she had made earlier and spread it on the bleeding gouges; the adventuring party looked on in amazement as the bleeding stopped after mere seconds, all of the wounds being covered with the salve. The herb wife, finished with ther secret methods, took a roll of clean, loosely woven linen cloth and began to wrap Main’s chest in it; she was thrifty and only covered wounded places, which meant that for a little while she looked as if she were only rolling the gauze randomly around Main’s chest, until it became apparent that every actual wound would be covered, even if it took a little doing and time. Finally, she got out her mortar and pestle, cleaned them, and put them away. Sighing in relief, they moved forward to collect Main, but were stopped by the herb wife’s salve covered hand. “You may not take him away,” she said, taking a cloth and belligerently wiping her hands on it, grinning ini an especially sinster manner.

“But … why not? Is it a matter of payment? Look, he’s a prince, I’ sure he has loads of --” Last was cut off by a sharp bark of laughter from the herb wife.

“Money? Pfaugh! I do not need your money. If anything, all I need from you is an escort for a distance. No, he is not released from my care yet. This man needs to be cared for … well, he should be bed ridden for at least a couple of days, yes, and no travel for at least a week.” The herb wife crossed her arms across her ample bosom, daring the party embers to challenge her authority on this subject at least.

Last moved forward in anger. "THere's no way! we're on a mission, woman, and if you can't see that, well -"

the walrus looked at Lord Squigglebottom Fancypants for amoment, as he looked like the moset sane of the group, in a worldless look (which Lord Squigglebottom Fancypants seemed to be gettin a lot of lately) that said without words, "is she an idiot or just insane?" (answer: an idiot), before flopping forward to Last First Middle and asking hjer, "Vould ju rather he died? Bummuck knows what she's doing. THat's the absolute minimus time Main needs to recover. Etierh you trust her enought to let her have the say on this one, or you don't trust her at all and you force Main to kill himself. Your choice. And where is my accent? is it too hard for you or something? Aakes alive, can't a man keep his accent around here? I've lost my newscasting job, on account of mmy losing my ability to be human, which I really miss, by the way - I lost my bukkit, which I don't even know what it is, except that it was blue and now it's gone - why, any day now I won't be able to smoke! What's the world coming to?" The walrus shook his large, whiskery head, muttering to himself, then flopped away, shoving Charlie out of the way as he went to the road. er oh not what to do next okay

Charlie and Someone looked at each other, not really understanding all the heavy stuff that was going on, and shrugged in unison. They went to the door of the hut, and Someone called out, "Shall -- shall he be staying with you then?'

Bummuck shouted at him, "Yes, you bollocks! DId I not just tell you that? He carn't be moved, I tell ya! Otherwise," she changed tone, a huge creepy smile coming over her face, "He'll swell up and he'll fester and he'll DIE! Ha!" she burst into hy sterical laughter, then slammed the door shut in Someone's face! someone blinked for a few seconds, stunned, as Mr Ian woon looked disapprovingly at the exclamation point in the previous sentence, clearly not approving (duh) of such excitability in a narrator. There goes the fourth wall.

the party members looked at each other, clearly flummoxed, thenb all shrugged in unison and turned away from the small hut. Lord Squigglebottom Fancypants offered, "I think I saw a tavern a ways back - the Fox and Dormouse, I believe." the others, desirous of a bed, a meal, and, in Last's case, a bath with a man in it, agreed roundly that perhaps it would be in their best interest to investigate such a potential house of sin and ruckus.

when they reached the aforesaid house of sin and ruckus, it turned out not to be named the Fox and Dormouse, as Lord Squigglebottom Fancypants had averred, but instead the Fox and the Curiously Shaped Button - apparently, a popular folk legend recounted the tale of a fox seeing a button carved by a master carpenter to look like a dormouse, desiring it, and subsequently stealing it. Although this was ostensibly a folk legend, it didn't seem to have anything like a moral attached, but perhaps there was one that was only ever alluded to and never spoken outright.

the party headed in, not caring one way or the other about this absolutely irrelevant bunny trail except as how it humiliated Lord Squigglebottom Fancypants in that he had though the curiously shaped button was a dormouse when it was, in fact, a button. the fact the the button was deliberately shaped like a dormouse and, in fact, was the same as a dormouse in nearly every respect, especially as it was painted on the sign of the tavern, did not matter to the party members who wished to mock Lord Squigglebottom Fancypants (this group encompassed only mr ian woon and someone, beecause mr ian woomn wanted to mock everyone, and someone thought it was humorous - nobody else dared to mcok lord squigglebottom fancypants because he was really too darn scary). as they all looked around the tavern, which was in reality quite a nice place, especially for a rather small town on the outskirts of a rather large forest and not on any major road, the party members reacted with a range of reactions, from absolute glee from Charlie to burning scorn form mr ian woon. As the others moved to their favorite places, ranging from the corner with a lute for Someone to the bar for Charlie, Lord Squigglebottom Fancypants sidled over to the innkeeper, asking him quietly, "How much for rooms, my good sir?"

"Rooms?" the man squinted at Lord Squigglebottom Fancypants, scratching his posterior at the same time as his large, bulbouis nose. "Well, we has the floor in the barn fer a copper, the floor in here fer a copper, a room for five fer a copper, a room fer two fer a copper, and the room fer one fer a copper. the floor an' the barn's all full up, so ye'll have ter pay me a copper fer the room fer five."

"Room for five? here, I'll cut you a deal: how's abput I give yuo a copper, you give me two rooms for two, and you don't die, eh?" Lord squigglebottom fancypants held out a copper, and raised an eyebrow conspiratorially, as if he had let he innkeeper on a pretty awesome deal, and didn't want anybody else to know about it. the innkeeper's face had a idiotically confused look on it, and his lips moved slowly to try and suss out what exactly lord squigglebottm fancypants had offered him; however, before he had a chance to actually determine what lord quigglebottom fancypnants had said, lord squiggleb ottom fancypants had already pushed the coin into the innkeeper's hand and closed his fingers around it. the feel of copper in his hands eradicated any doubts he had, and he nodded, hesitantly at first, but then enthusastically as lord squigglebottom fancypants smiled at him in a way that suggested that the innkeeper was really quite a smart man for finagling this deal out of lord squigglebottom fancypants, although lord squigglebottom had nothing but utter contempt for the man. “I’m so glad we came to this understanding,” he said.