Dingbat the Monk and the Brooch
                             by "Those Dudes"

(Synopsis of Parts 1,2,3,4,5&6: Look dudes, this is the last part of the
story.  If you haven't been following it then this won't help much.  Ready?
The party finds a jeweled brooch, loses it and the monk, avoids some orcs,
finds the monk, loses the wizard, gets him raised, starts a fire, finds an
evil wererat temple, finds: wererats, brooch, orcs and a big scary statue
[gnash gnash].  The party flees with brooch, an unconscious Dingbat and a
severed wererat priest head, and finds part of the city collapsing.  There,
did that help?)

Part Seven

	"Oh my." clucked Sauramud.  "What could have caused that?  Must have
been some wierd natural phenomenon."
	"Nay." said the merchant.  "The authorities are blamin' it on a bunch
o' wacked out adventurers who climbed down there this morning..."  For the
first time the man noticed the open manhole cover and the length of rope
the wizard was meticulously coiling up (not that the rope wouldn't be
hopelessly tangled the next time they needed it).  He backed away from the
foursome, eyes darting about like a cornered animal.
	"It's them!" he yelled.  "Help!  Help!  Constables!  Murderers!"
	"I beg your pardon." said Rodent in a huff.  "We are NOT murderers!"
He glanced sidelong at Playdough and added, "Usually."  The merchant turned
and ran, all the time calling for the constables.
	"Duh, maybe we should go now." suggested Playdough nervously.
	"Nonsense." scoffed Rodent.  He lifted the cover back over the opening
in the street.  "We have done nothing wrong - in fact we have done a great
service for humanity."
	"Nonetheless, I think we should depart before said humanity comes to
congratulate us... or whatever that mob is planning to do." said Sauramud,
indicating a mass of pitchfork and torch wielding citizens who were
clustering in the street.
	"Indeed." said Rodent, noting that Playdough and Dingbat were already
making for the opposite end of the alleyway.
	The party moved off through the streets, scuttling through alleyways
and side-streets in a roundabout route to the temple of Le Thick. Twice
they had to detour to avoid "adoring" citizens and thrice they had to hop
over sections of collapsed roadway where some subterranean passage had
fallen in.
	"I still don't know why we couldn't have stopped for a beer." groused
the wizard. "Dingbat isn't actually _losing_ hitpoints now.  I swallowed a
lot of dust down there, you know." The ranger and the paladin merely
grunted and continued on.
	Within the space of a few minutes the party once again stood before
the impressive marble columns of the temple. Ignoring its beauty they
stomped in. Ignored except for Dingbat, who began to wax poetic about the
glorious majesty of Le Thick before being reminded he was unconcious. As
they approached the entrance two workmen came out carrying the charred
corpse of a temple acolyte, which they tossed on a growing pile.
	"Oh dear." said Rodent, glancing at the pile of corpses and burned
refuse. "I think that fire was a bit more serious than we thought."
	"...teach 'em to smoke..." muttered Sauramud, earning him a dark look
from Playdough.
	"Not that they won't find some way to nail us for it anyway Sauramud."
said Rodent, shifting his backpack and Dingbat's form as he moved to the
doorway. The wizard nodded and followed, Playdough taking up the rear.
	The inside of the once-magnificent temple was still mostly intact
(what you could see through the pall of smoke), but extensive areas of the
main cathedral were charred and burnt. Nearly all of the rediculously
expensive tapestries lay in a smouldering pile on what was left of the
plush, soot-stained carpeting. The party surveyed the damage in awe.
	"That's going to take a lot of tithes from the townees to fix up."
said Rodent.
	"Duh, get real." snorted Playdough. "They's gonna get it from me...
us.  I hope none of us gets snuffed in the next while, the standard rates
for healing are going to go waaaayyyyy up."
	"I suppose." said Sauramud, prodding a bit of charred debris with his
toe. "Anyway, we don't need healing and we've got something for the high
priest, so let's get this over with quick before he can try to stick us for
damages. Look, he's over there."  Sauramud indicated the far corner of the
room with a flourish, there stood a small crowd of temple functionaries.
	"Dear oh dear." said the high priest, wringing his hands in
frustration as the party approached. "That tapestry wasn't insured. And
that one wasn't. That one was, but those two weren't. Oh dear."
	"Duh, what about all the dead acolytes?" said Playdough before the
other two could hush him.
	"Playdough!" cried the high priest, whirling to face the party. There
was a tense pause. "Playdough my boy, trust you to find a silver lining in
all this mess. That's right, they won't be needing their back wages now,
will they?"  The paladin looked a tad confused as the high priest
continued. "Yes, we don't have to take the payroll out of that high-yield
bond future and thus we can gain a net 5% increase in the roll-over
dividends this fiscal year! You're a marvel, Playdough! A genius! Is that a
monk under the ranger's arm there?"
	"What?" said Rodent, blinking a little. "Oh. Yes. He's perfectly all
right, though." he said quickly as the high priest's eyes began to light
up. "He doesn't need any expensive healing, he's just unconcious. Really."
He paused to shake off a pair of temple functionaries that were trying to
pull the monk from his grip. "Call them off, will you?"
	The high priest sighed and waved the functionaries off with one hand
then turned and regarded the group. "So, you're back. Come with me." He
led the group through the mass of workers struggling to restore the temple
to its original glory and into the relatively unburned inner offices.
	"Now, you boys were off on a mission for Le Thick, weren't you?" he
said, seating himself behind a large desk covered in ancient scrolls. He
pushed some of the cracked yellowed parchment aside and leaned on the desk.
"You realise that if you have failed your mission I'll have to demand the
return of the raise dead spell, or hefty cash remuneration. Or both."
	"Just hold yer holy water." said Sauramud snidely.  "Not only did we
snuff the evil wererats, we brought you your little souvenier." So saying,
and ignoring the outraged spluttering of the high priest, the wizard deftly
fished out the dripping head of the wererat shaman and plunked it down
wetly on the desk.
     SPLOOCH.
	"You IDIOT!" yelled the high priest, diving for the ancient documents
that had the misfortune to be lying underneath the sopping head. "Those are
the holy scrolls of Un'ruak! The priceless scrolls dictated to Harlak the
Most Bodacious by Le Thick himself! The foundation of our very beliefs!" He
batted the head off the desk and gently picked up the blood-soaked
documents. A goodly portion detached and fell to the desk with a splat.
	"Looks like they're a write off to me." observed Rodent. "I hope you
kept copies."  The group watched the high priest dance around trying to
save portions of the scrolls with mounting nervousness.
	"You don't just keep copies of holy documents you imbecile! They were
magic scrolls of mighty import! You can't just assign some lack-witted
acolyte to scratch off a pale imitation! Oh Le Thick, they are ruined!"
	"Well if they were so important," said Sauramud ascerbically, "Why
were they laid out there like a placemat?"
	"Duh, mebbe you can just fake the parts that are missing now." said
Playdough thoughtfully. "Mebbe youse can leave off the bit about temple
paladins having to give most of their treasure away."
	"I say your holiness..." croaked Dingbat weakly from the floor where
he had regained some of his faculties. "You appear to be hyperventilating."
	"I... You..." said the high priest, his contorted features bright red.
	"Yes, perhaps you should sit down, your eminence." said Rodent
soothingly. "We'll just be off, since the delivery of that head there
squares us with the temple balance sheet." With a quick warning glance at
the others he led them out to the cathedral, leaving the high priest
spluttering incoherently and making small jerking motions with his head.
	"Well, I thought that went rather well, considering." said Sauramud
airily.  "We got in and out of the temple without having to part with
flipping great wadges of cash."
	"Hey!" said Dingbat, more or less conscious now. "Weren't they supposed
to give us a thousand gold into the bargain when we returned the heads of
the wererat priests?"
	"Yes they were," said Rodent. "And even considering there was only one
priest and we did return his head, I don't think that asking for a cash
bonus is exactly the prudent thing to do right now.  The high priest
appeared somewhat... distressed."
	"Duh, I could go back and ask him." said Playdough.
	"No no, let's keep going." said Sauramud as they scuttled out the main
entrance. "We've still got the brooch to sell. We'll be rolling in piles of
dough by nightfall."
	"That's right, my...  I mean our brooch!  You got it back then?"
squealed the monk.
	"No thanks to you." said Rodent.

	By the third jewelry store the party's buoyed spirits began to sink
again.
	"I'm sorry gents, but there's no way I could possibly afford to buy
this thing from you." said the shop keeper hefting the brooch.
	"C'mon, you've had no problems ripping us off in the past." said
Sauramud.  "Recall the monk's 'gold' ring that flaked a few weeks after he
paid all that money for it.  Make us an offer."
	"Nope.  I've got my professional integrity to worry about." said the
jeweller.  He pushed the brooch back accross the counter.  "Mind you, while
you're here I just got in a spiffy set of silver ceremonial monkish ear
tongs."
	"Really?" cried Dingbat.  "They're not used are they?  It took me a
week to hose off the last pair.  Saayyyy..." his monkish eyes narrowed
craftily.  "You wouldn't be interested in a straight trade would you?"
	"No!" said the other three before the shop keeper could speak.  Rodent
snatched up the brooch and jammed it into his money pouch.
	"We'll take it up to Wartburg and see if any of the merchants there
are a little less tight with their money." he said.
	"Maybe we could trade it for a couple of horses." offered the
Playdough. "Gonna be a long trip otherwise."
	"If we trade it for horses we won't need to MAKE the trip." said
Sauramud.  He reefed open the door and stomped out into the street.  The
others followed.
	"So let me get this straight," said Dingbat.  "We've got no horses, no
rations, no money, no Boots of Monkish Kicking and a ten thousand gold
piece brooch that we can't sell."
	"So help me." said Rodent through clenched teeth.  "If he doesn't die
of natural causes in the next sixty seconds I will surely kill him."
	"Well it's a good thing you've got me along." said Dingbat blithely,
"Because I just had a smashing whizbanger of a plan that will make us
wealthy and famous."
	"Do tell." said Sauramud.  "And just what is this plan of yours?"
	"Well it goes like this..."  began Dingbat when the street in front of
the party erupted and a huge stone claw smashed its way through.
	"Uh oh..." chorused the party.
	"Groar!" bellowed something underground as the claw fished about for
purchase.  The townees nearby screamed and tried to scatter.
	"Rodent, it ain't dead." said Dingbat in a tiny voice.  "And I've only
got one hit point."
	"It obviously wants something, but what?" said Rodent.
	"The brooch!  It's after the brooch!" said Saurmud suddenly.  "Omigod.
Quick, give it to me."
	"What?" said Rodent.
	"Just DO it!"  The ranger shrugged and tossed the brooch to the
magicer.  The wizard hastily palmed it, hoisted up his robes and ran like
he had demons after him - which was really a lot closer to the truth than
he would have been comfortable to know.  The rest of the party followed,
more because it was away from the thing than from any great desire to
follow the wizard.  Suddenly Rodent realized which way they were headed.
	"What in Gehenna do you think you are doing!" cried Rodent as they
followed him up the steps into the temple.  Sauramud ignored him.
	"Father!" he cried, waving frantically at the priest at the other end
of the sanctuary.
	"YOU!" yelled the high priest dropping into an offensive spell stance.
Sauramud spoke quickly (and Dingbat made ready for a priestly gaunch pull).
	"Ignoring the Ranger's selfish and impious suggestion to sell this
bejewled diamond brooch for transitory pleasures of the gold and, in turn,
cheating Le Thick from his rightful cut we implore you to take this
offering from us in the spirit in which it is given."
	"For shame Rodent." remonstrated the high priest as best he could
through the sudden gallon of drool that formed.  He snatched the brooch
(and almost a finger) from the wizard's hand and whipped out a pocket
jeweller's scope.
	"How come _everybody_ carries one of those around?" said Dingbat.
	"Hush." said Sauramud.  "Let's just exit stage left."  He turned to
leave and noticed a large shadow eclipsing the front door.  "I say, is
there a back exit we could take?"
	"Uh, sure." said the priest with an ambiguous wave towards the rear of
the temple.  He continued his loving croon over the jewel.
	As the foursome ran past the priest and around the altar Dingbat
snatched a golden candlestick for his pack.
	"They won't be missing this in the rubble." he chuckled.

				    The End

	( insert cheers and fanfare here - angelic chorus from on high )

(Copyright (c) 1992 by Those Dudes, aka M. McAleese (mmcalees@csr.uvic.ca)
and D. Braun (David_Braun@panam.wimsey.bc.ca). All characters portrayed 
within are fictional, no resemblance to any person or persons living or 
dead is intended... or possible, one assumes.)
-- 
*     mmcalees@csr.uvic.ca (Michael McAleese) : I speak only for me...       *
  "Man can believe the impossible, but never the improbable." - Oscar Wilde
  (For snooping governments: heroin, cocaine, FBI, CSIS, CIA, albatross...)