Elves are racist, did anyone tell you that? They consider themselves superior to pretty much everything, kobolds included, and it’s been rumored that they have some sort of kobold killing plan. Not only that, but those hoity toity elves think that scarves should only be worn in the cold days. How stupid is that?!
But what we wear isn’t up to them. We can make our own decisions without those pointy ears twats being… pointy eared twats! It is time for our chosen champion… Pill, to embark on an epic(probably) journey to find the Woven One: Cachehol and ask for guidance on how to protect our style.
Like in the middle of nowhere...
This here kobold was standing in a forest… lost probably. But no matter, he was a Weaver of the fabled Cult of the Woven! “Okay… where do I go from here?” He pulled out a piece of paper that was supposedly his map and took a quick look at it. “Okay, let’s see here.”
List of Errands
-Give out more scarves
-Find the woven one maybe
-Don’t get lost
Hard truths. It wasn’t a map. “Ugh! This map is useless! It doesn’t show me where to go!” Pill angrily ripped the paper thingy into bits. Lost lost lost. Lost AF. “Uggggghhh…” He put his face into his hands, thinking hard.
“Ya know, you could just try walking in a random direction.” Pill turned around, and some elf was standing there. She was wearing makeup and looked… ‘beautiful’, but… no scarf. Not good without a scarf.
“Oh- uh, an elf! You’re not racist, are you?” Pill asked the lady.
She put on a worried face when she heard that question. “No, why would I be?”
Pill was about to start a long explanation, but he figured that would bore the elf, so he just said: “Because a kobold told me elves are racist and they don’t like our scarves.”
“Ah, you’re one of those Cult of the Woven guys, right?”
The kobold beamed proudly as his scarf-cape started flowing in the wind that he suddenly summoned to make himself look cooler. “Of course! I am one of their proud weavers in search of… a thing! It’s so legendary that only scarves and snakes could describe it, but- huh?” The elf left while he was rambling. “Ugh!” He finally walked out of the forest.
And boom. There’s some sort of graveyard. And two new elves poking around the place. “Which one are we looking for?” one of them asks.
“Hell, I don’t know. It’s probably the stupidest one.” His partner answered.
Gasp! They’re probably doing some sort of evil activity with malicious intent! Pill simply walks closer to the elves and says: “Hi.”
The elves turn towards the kobold, their eyes widening when they see him. “I f@#$ing knew it! The kobolds are onto us! Kill him now!” I told you man! Elves are racist! Unless they wear scarves.
“Oh no! Fellas, can’t we just… umm…” Out of options, Pill conjures some magical scarves from the ground to grab the closest elf by his feet, but disaster strikes!
The elf immediately counters by slicing through the scarves with a dagger and runs up to Pill, stabbing him in the chest. “Ackh!”
“You get him?” Elf 1 asks.
Pill started to crumple to the ground, but no! This can’t be the end! He’s got a little more stamina, so he can take a single knife strike.
Cough cough gag. “I’m not finished yet! I’ll show you our woven power!” Pill unleashes his inner Philhipe, causing a storm of even more magical scarves to spring out from his body!
Critical Failure again?!
As Pill is casting his spell, the elf punches him in the face, knocking him out. As his head hit the ground, he dropped a very valuable possession: A dead blood snake, wearing a mini-eyepatch and a mini-scarf.
The two elves look at the defeated kobold’s… ‘artifact’ with disgust. “What is with these morons?”
“It’s nothing, just a bunch of flimsy idealistic garbage.” One of the elves lifted his foot to stomp on the blood snake, but an explosion occurred right when his foot was about to collide with it, knocking the elves away.
When the elves’ ears stopped ringing, they looked up to see a floating kobold where the blood snake used to be, wearing a cloak, a big red scarf, and a neato eyepatch. His left eye was glowing. “Idealistic garbage, you say? You don’t like our scarves?”
“Cachehol!” Pill blurted out when he realized who he was looking at.
The Woven One turned his head towards Pill and clicked his tongue at him. “That scarf-cape looks good on you.”
That was enough to make Pill stand up and smile. “O-of course! I put a lot of work into it!”
“Scarves are stupid! What is the matter with you?!” One of the elves decided to shout.
Cachehol chuckled. “Oh really? I think otherwise. You’ll look good when I give you a scarf, and maybe an eyepatch. And maybe a blood snake tourniquet.” He started floating towards the elves, one of them screaming: “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!”
Happy ending everyone gets the scarves.