Tricklet's School of Awesome
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The âTricklet's School of Awesomeâ guild is not widely known in Godville. However, if you are a member of this guild, feel free to remove the {{delete guild}} template. Check Tricklet's School of Awesome on Godville — What links here — Search for Tricklet's School of Awesome on Godwiki |
Tricklet's School of Awesome | |
Motto: | Are you awesome yet? |
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Alignment: | Awesome |
Founder(s): | |
Membership Count: | 1 (and billions of spiders) |
Guild Page: | Tricklet's School of Awesome |
Data current as of 27.09.2014 |
Contents
Mishaps
In which our hero makes a decision
And lo, upon completion of her 232nd quest on day 1601 g.e., did Sitral stumble drunkenly from a nondescript tavern. While searching for a quiet place to develop a hangover, she tripped over an orphaned monster and fell through a thin wall, so old it crumbled like cardboard. Brushing the wall dust from her eyes she found herself in a small room, walled shut at some point in the distant past. A forgotten place, overrun by spiders and damp. A single chair sat in the centre. Sitral sat carefully, wooden chair-legs creaking ominously, and looked around her new home, the place she would gather the best and brightest the world had to offer. Or worst and dullest. Or most willing to make beer runs.
She rose, and dragged a finger through the years-old mould growing on the walls. Finally, she stood back and admired her handiwork. She smiled. Tricklet's School of Awesome was open for business.
She was the first, and with knowledge that she would not be the last, Sitral sat back and waited for the first drunken hero to fall through the hole she had created.
Sitral waited.
Spiders watched.
The chair collapsed.
Traps
In which our hero grows tired of waiting
And lo, on day 1602 g.e. did Sitral wait on a badly repaired chair, shifting her weight to avoid the nails jutting out at odd angles from the seat. She stared at the door. Not a single soul had followed her example and fallen through to join Tricklet's School of Awesome and she was growing weary. She rose, plucked a particularly thick thread from the closest spiderweb and set about creating a trap. She would have pupils, whether they liked it or not.
Rescue
In which our hero gets help from an unexpected source
And lo, did day 1604 g.e. dawn with nary a sight of an unsuspecting traveler falling into one of Sitral's traps. She looked around the dusty room, light glinting from particles suspended in the air, and sighed. A shape passed in front of her face, a tiny spider dangling from the ceiling. Soon, hundreds then thousands more fell to join it in a pile on the floor. Slowly, the rose until they formed the approximate shape of a very small child; albeit one with skin that constantly moved and a face that even a mother couldn't love. Sitral stared in shock as a low buzz sounded from within the creature's chest, gradually increasing in volume and pitch until...
"We shall return."
The spidermass shivered, wobbled unsteadily as it fell and crawled and stumbled to the hole and out into the world.
Membership
In which our hero finally gets a student
And lo, on day 1612 g.e, did Sitral find herself sleeping in her hovel when the sound of millions of spiders attempting to carry a sack of gold and various armour woke her from her slumber. Groggily, she stood and watched the spidermass stand unsteadily in front of her.
"We <hic> return," the mass intoned, alcohol fumes flooding from its centre.
"You've been drinking," Sitral noted.
"We had to fit in."
"You did well. Have you completed the paperwork?"
"We did not realise there was any."
"Your first lesson, then," Sitral said. "Come back when you've done it." She returned to her bedroll, and was soon snoring.
The spidermass shoulders drooped as it plodded out of the hovel.