A Simple Maid... Or Maybe More...

[Gretel]

Gretel had been away from the dungeons for several years now and since she now had a chance to find a new job she had known she would need to find her own way back to Wolfenden. She had always known that by leaving the dungeons she was taking a big chance on herself. The difference was that now she felt sure that she could do whatever it took to get a new job.

The quietness of the path was echoed by the simple shade of the trees. She knew that by making her way home, or as close to home as she could get from now on, she would need to do her best to avoid the other people on the path. She knew there was a lot of danger blocking her way home. She knew she needed to see how safe she was. Where she used to be entirely innocent and sure of what she could do, and of how sure she was to be cautious. Now she was a little less innocent and yet all the more naïve. She had become aware of the dangers of life outside the dungeon and yet, she still trusted far too many people.

[Salamanda]

*And unfortunately for Gretel there was someone else also on the path that day who was returning to Wolfenden (though his re-apperence was certain to be less welcome then Gretel's) and he was just one of thouse people that naive Gretel shouldn't trust and yet probably would. His eyes alighted on Gretle as he pushed his cart along the path and he smiled a rather snake like smile*


"Ahhhh what have a we here then? A little Senorita...how very...how you say fortunatus, Salamdanda he is in need of a practice of his selling skills since he has been away for the long time now and she will make-a the perfect # test subject."


*Salamanda, The Sleazy Merchant from Mexico, The Wily Con Artist from Quintana Roo , Lord Fear's man in Latin America, The Opposition Trader was back in town after the fires and he was just as duplicitous as ever and he now had his sights set on Poor innocent Gretel.*

*He let his cart rest and began his sales pitch*


"Excuse Senorita but you look like a woman of refined tastes come peruse my stall for I can assure you you will find no finer merchandise then you will here. For I am The Great Salamanda and I am the Trader...Most Magnifico."

[ModNote: Salamanda was last seen in Blackmail In The Mail.]

[Gretel]

Gretel had turned to see the man who had addressed her. He seemed like a nice enough man, even if she was a little afraid. She had a feeling, much as she trusted him, that he might be problematic. All the same she had smiled as she watched him, she knew it was possibly a bad idea, but she had allowed herself to be tempted into looking for something to buy from him.

"Well, it's certainly nice to meet you Mr Salamanda."

[Salamanda]

*Salamanda smiled. He was, as usual, dressed in his black suit with the gold embroidery that looked like the outfit worn by a matador just sans the hat*

"A pleasure to meet you to Senorita...??"

*and something else that hadn't changed was his accent it still was a thick, almost O.T.T., Mexican accent at times it sounded almost put on it was so thick and over the top and yet at others sounded perfectly legit and natural.*

[Young Grimwold]

[ModNote: Although I was advised some time ago that activity by these characters might be interrupted, I've been given no indication in the year-and-a-half since that the members are willing or able to return. If the forum is winding down then I need to consider all the loose ends and I don't want to leave these characters in limbo here any longer.]

*If Gretel finds herself growing misty-eyed, it's not because Salamanda has tugged at her heartstrings. It's because she's seen some mist. Grey, yellow and moving along the path, it is - as per the obligatory stating of the obvious - no ordinary mist.

Rumour has it that one winter's night in a year gone by, Treguard woke up in the grip of a sudden fever and a childlike paranoia. These passed in a few days, but sensing that their origin was something less than natural, the Dungeon Master put wheels in motion to find out more. In due course, Marta reported that after getting Sylvester Hands suitably loose-tongued in a tavern that may or may not have been the Crazed Heifer, she was told scarcely intelligible details of an Opposition scheme to drain Treguard of his magic. To Lord Fear's annoyance, the scheme had apparently failed and would not be attempted again. This, if it were even true, was all Treguard cared to know. His magical abilities had indeed remained intact - thanks to Merlin, he carried in his head an almost unlimited supply of the various spells that adventuring phases required of him - and he thought no more about it.

Some who believed all this were of the opinion that Lord Fear's scheme had not failed entirely. They were correct. For the mist now approaching the maid and the trader was a disembodied, distorted jumble of some of Treguard's spells. Not enough for him to miss, not enough to be detectable by any mages who weren't specifically looking for it, but enough to have a quite decisive effect on anyone the mist comes into contact with.

It is too wide and too swift for Gretel and Salamanda to evade. It passes over them; there is an itch; a whoosh; they are gone. (Spell)cast back to the distant starting points of their respective journeys. DISMISSed by the mist, which soon veers off the path and slips amongst the trees.*

[ModNote: This puts Gretel and Salamanda out of play, but they may of course return at some point in the future.]