Papa Russ Ebers
Information | |
Age | 60 |
Haven | Mellowfields |
Location | Mellowbrook |
House | Harmony House |
Traits | |
Constitution | |
Weak-willed | |
Digestive |
Summary
Sprites
Baby | Kid | Adult | Elder |
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Gifting
Likes | Dislikes |
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Serf & Turf | Strawberry |
Radish | Fishy Goodjohns |
Longbread | Honey |
Story
Task | |
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Name | Kill a Night Hag |
Description | Kill a Night Hag. These can be found in Toughwood. |
Dialogue | |
Friendly | It's good to know you.
I have had a long life full of adventure and misadventure. Many a Hob have I slain. So many roads I have travelled. I have loved, lost, lived, nearly died and lived again. I am not very good at anecdotes, though, and it is a funny story how that happened. |
Like | I was just thinking about that time I was smooching the fishmonger's daughter up in Tunt.
Her father caught us and chased me with a cleaver. I hid up a pine tree and found a little door. I knocked on it, and a small fella answered. He waved his fist angrily and chased me with a cleaver. I dived into a river and nearly drowned. The fishmonger pulled me out and discovered I had caught a massive salmon in my shirt. He laughed and cooked up the salmon. As we ate it, I nearly choked on something. It was a ring the salmon had swallowed. I gave it to my loved one as a romantic gesture. Unfortunately, it was cursed and turned her into a salmon. So, I hid up the same pine tree. |
Love | You are so great. You remind me of the time I was captured by a Hag and hung over her cooking pot, ready to be lowered in.
I told her that I knew a recipe that would make me taste much better. She was intrigued, and I said I would gather the ingredients needed. When I returned, I made a broth for her. She tasted it, but I used my iron spoon, and she screamed and turned into a cat. I know what you are thinking. Why didn't I use seasoning? Anyway, you need a task, apparently. |
Complete | Oh, you did it! Any exciting adventures to tell of?
Oh? Yes? You did what? Hmmm. Interesting! Well, your stories are fun. Reminds me of the incident with the pig, ladle and a sack of flour. Some tales are not meant to be told. |