Hagrid Quest

[Deathwings]

[X] Check whatever's squirming in your pocket before you do anything else.
[X] You think you know a thing or two about spider breeding. The insect fighting ring beckons!

There is no way this can go wrong. None at all !

 

[Immanent Thing]

[X] Check whatever's squirming in your pocket before you do anything else.
[X] You think you know a thing or two about spider breeding. The insect fighting ring beckons!

 

[Wutnhammer]

[x] - PAWNCH SUM DOODS

 

[Larekko12]

[X] Pigeons! They're like owls in miniature!

 

[R.A.G.]

[X] You need pants, and there are all these tents lying around...tear up one of the tents an wrap it round yer middle.

 

[Thomasfoolery]

[X] You think you know a thing or two about spider breeding. The insect fighting ring beckons!

 

[Grail]

[X] Check whatever's squirming in your pocket before you do anything else.
[X] You think you know a thing or two about spider breeding. The insect fighting ring beckons! [X] Ask yer little friend if he'd fancy a snack.

It's a toss up between this and seeing the pigeons. It'd be nice send old professor Dumbledore a letter he's probably the last person who cares about us since Pa died, but they should still be there after we do whatever we finish doing. Strikeout because Aragog isn't a Pokemon, he should have some say in the matter and I'm sure he'll agree if it's to get himself fed out in the dessert.

 

[Biigoh]

[X] Check whatever's squirming in your pocket before you do anything else.
- -[X] You think you know a thing or two about spider breeding. The insect fighting ring beckons!

 

[Guile]

" 'Ere now, wha've I go' in me pockets?" you wonder aloud as you feel your coat wriggle again. You're no expert on coats, but you feel confident they aren't supposed to do that. In fact, you'd say this warrants an investigation. Meanwhile one of the lads 'round the bucket produces his own contender, handling the little beaut like he's scared of her. Camel spider, you recognize, which isn't a spider at all technically speaking and looks as feisty as most of its kind - a lively bunch. Into the bucket she goes, along with the previous winner. Her legs look thin compared to the tarantula, but her body outmasses the poor little guy by half again as much. Her name, 'Vieille Tueuese', just doesn't sound too cute either. They skitter back and forth around the bucket, wriggling their little pedipalps and feeling out the situation, literal-like.

One of the crowd - a squat fellow whose face looks like he was the recipient of a Reductor spell - looks 'round your navel before he snorts and rattles off, "C'est une blague l'Anglais? Tu es content de nous voir, c'est çca?"

You've given up trying to figure out their nonsense language. You stick your hand into your coat, intent on figuring out what's what. At this point you're wondering if something interesting hitched a ride on you-and just as you're thinking that, you run your fingers through stiff, bristly, spine-like hair. You don't believe it, you don't-a friendly face from home, all the way out here!? But who else would've found his way into your coat?

Ignoring the chanting foreigners gathered around the bucket, you open the flap and peek inside, your face split wide in a hopeful grin. And sure enough, Aragog's many darling little black eyes stare back out at you. You're so glad you had your coat enchanted with expansion charms! He'd grown too big to fit in your old nonmagical one, and had been transferred to an abandoned wardrobe while you had the work done, before all that unpleasant business…. But even thinking back to that terrible day can't dull this happy reunion: you've never been happier you splurged on something.

You sniff happily, tears already starting to run down your face. "Aragog! Didn' I say ter run fer the Forbidden Forest?"

"Would not leave you, Hagrid," his high, whispery voice came. Aw, he's using his words! It makes you so proud every time you hear it- a devil of a job, teaching him to do it, but so worth it! He's still got months before he reaches his proper adult size, and he'll keep on growing after that, but he's learning fast. You're sure he'd help you prove his kind's perfectly reasonable, and not some 'Dark Creature' like those crackpots at the Ministry say. XXXXX classification, 'known man-eater and impossible to domesticate' your foot! Honestly, who couldn't want to give a trustable, hopeful face like that a chance?

"Il se parle a lui-même? on devrait lui demander?"
"Rien a foutre."

You wince as Aragog tries to peek out right as Vieille Tueuese skitters forward and sinks her fangs into her opponent's brain. He can never leave other eight-leggers alone: bit of a busybody, really. You gently cover his flap. "No, lil' buddy, not… not right now."

Another prospective spider-breeder, a lean man with a long face like a horse and a sleeveless shirt thickly stained at the pits, is already crowding forward with his own entry. Several of the men take up the chant of "Monsieur Mal," which is revealed to be a golden-furred baboon spider sporting several scars from fights past. A ringer, you suspect. Or a champion. Has to be, with the steely glint in the little warrior's eyes.

"Want to see," Aragog insists as he presses a bit more insistently at your jacket.

You suppose you can't deny him, and two hairy legs poke out of his pocket, pulling it down enough that his beady black eyes can see out. Aw, he looks just precious. Like a lil' babe all swaddled up like that - can't tell him that o'course, he's at that age.

Whoops and hollers from the men as Monsieur Mal goes to work. It's a right brutal fight; where the previous fights were decided in one swift bite, the baboon spider tears into Vieille Tueuese with viciousness that'd have served him well even in the Forbidden Forest. She gets her own licks in right back, here and there, but though they're around the same size Mal just dominates the match. Camel spiders are bloody fast, but in the artificial ring there's nowhere for her to go. You wince as one of Vieille Tueuese's legs is separated from her body.

It's not long at all before it's done, and the victor is showered in praise. You can't deny you get swept up a a little with the urge to pitch in yourself - nothing wrong with a properly healthy critter like that!

The champion is paraded around before being safely stowed away again. After that, a handful of littler spiders are dropped into the ring and a balding, paunchy guy with fingertips marked by bites unveils a night-black lizard. At least three feet long, the beastie isn't a type you know. He has the drill-shaped head of a monitor lizard and a long whippy tail, but those don't come in dead black, more yellow and red and grey. You're actually a bit excited-a creature you don't know, it's a rare treat!

" 'Ere now, wha're you lot doin'? They ain't go' a chance!" you protest at the sight of what's gonna be nothing more than butcher's work. Against that kind of size difference, not to mention the scale armor, a muggle would be more likely to successfully hunt a dragon than these little guys take on that 'Mere du Fuhrer', as they're calling him.

More money changes hands, with bets like 'Trois en une minute' and 'Morts dans deux'.

You frown severely. You glance down at Aragog for support, and you think he nods at you. He's willing. At least with those others they had a sporting chance, spider against spider. You know nature can be cruel, but this isn't nature, just regular old human cruelty. You've got about as much experience in one as in the other. They'll just have to see what happens when Mere du Fuhrer has to fight somebody his own size.

"Oi, I gots a contender here that can take on your beastie!"

The boys chuckle to one another.
"Quelqu'un parle parle Anglais?"
"Bien sure que non!"

"Aragog'll show 'im wha's what!" you insist as your buddy squirms confidently from within his hidey-hole.

Horse-face finally turns round to look at you, and up. And up. You shuffle a little so you're not blocking the sun so much. "Well," he finally says. Politely. "You are new."

"Yeh speak proper English!" you gape. You'd started to wonder if anyone here did.
"Of course."

The other five glance from one to the other. One ventures, "… Ils se nourrissent de quoi les Agnlais?" The others are quiet.

"Then, let us see zis Aragog," horse-face says, ignoring them.
"C'est quoi ce nom pour une bête?" jeers one of the others.

You help Aragog navigate his way out of your pocket. It's tricky, because the extradimensional charms are a little finicky around the mouth that marks the edge of the spell. Aragog's body is four feet long and several wide and his legs are twice that, so managing to escape even one of your overlarge pockets is tricky business. You wonder how he got in there in the first place, since it's taking so much effort to help him out.

"… Mon dieu! Qu'est-ce que c'est que cette chose?"

You don't know what he said, but you heard how he said it just fine.

"Oi!" You're a little insulted. "Don' jus' go insultin' other people's friends!"

The men are edging away, now, and the one you rounded on puts up empty hands while backing off himself.

You pause in realization. "Hrm, I don' think Aragog'll fit in tha' bucket. Maybe we could jus' have the match righ' here?"

"… You're on your own, Night Rider," the finger-bitten bloke says, and tossed the lizard in the general direction of Aragog. Your li'l buddy snatches it out of the air lightning-quick, his hairy leg pinning it to the ground despite its frantic hissing.

"Hagrid, can I…?" Aragog hisses, the drool on his pedipalps and fangs making his begger's eyes all the more effective. How could you resist something as dear as that?

"Quelqu'un a entendu..?"
"L'araignée parléee? Non."
"Non."
"Moi non plus."
"Mais elle a vraiment-"
"Ventriloque! De toute évidence."

"Reckon so," you say with a nod when the locals finish their little chat. Seems only fair, after all. Law of the jungle and all that.

You hear a few savage crunches as Aragog tears into his meal. He's really kind of dainty about it, snapping the spine first so it doesn't feel anymore pain when Aragog starts eating him. You taught him that!

As for the rest of these blokes…
[X] Declare yourself and Aragog to be King of the Ring! There are gonna be some changes around here...
[X] You finally found someone who speaks English. Ask some questions. (Suggestions?)
[X] Well, that was satisfying. Those two from before are probably done talking, or there might be time to catch one of the other diversions around camp...
[X] Write-in

 

[Vanathor]

[X] Retire from the ring. Up until Aragog is old enough to have some babies, none of the current competitors stand a chance.
-[X] Ask the english speaking guy some questions. Where are you? Why are you here? What are you doing exactly?

 

[Graig]

[X] Ask the english speaking guy some questions. Where are you? Why are you here? What are you doing exactly?

 

[megrisvernin]

[X] Retire from the ring. Up until Aragog is old enough to have some babies, none of the current competitors stand a chance.
-[X] Ask the english speaking guy some questions. Where are you? Why are you here? What are you doing exactly?

 

[Selias]

[X] Well, that was satisfying. Those two from before are probably done talking, or there might be time to catch one of the other diversions around camp...

 

[Chibi-Reaper]

"Wait what, did the spider just-" "OBVIOUSLY VENTRILOQUISM you rube."

Har. Love them muggles ter death. Given half a chance, they'll up an' all but obliviate themselves for yeh.

[X] Retire from the ring. Up until Aragog is old enough to have some babies, none of the current competitors stand a chance.
-[X] Ask the english speaking guy some questions. Where are you? Why are you here? What are you doing exactly?

'Fraid we got a touch inter our cups last eve, weight of a sudden great mess o' bad news all at the once. Can't rightly recall nawt 'fore waking with most of our clothes gone and a splitting headache ter boot.

 

[Deathwings]

Man, your French's pretty good Guile. You're one of my fellow countryman or just that good ?

I only saw the one mistake here :

"… Mon dieu! Qu'est-ce que c'est que cette chose?"

Click to shrink...

[X] Retire from the ring. Up until Aragog is old enough to have some babies, none of the current competitors stand a chance.
-[X] Ask the english speaking guy some questions. Where are you? Why are you here? What are you doing exactly?

 

[Guile]

Man, your French's pretty good Guile. You're one of my fellow countryman or just that good ?

Click to shrink...

Nah, I've visited and I love the place, but high school french was a long time ago.

I have a Parisian I bug for french tips before posts.

"Wait what, did the spider just-" "OBVIOUSLY VENTRILOQUISM you rube."

Har. Love them muggles ter death. Given half a chance, they'll up an' all but obliviate themselves for yeh.

[X] Retire from the ring. Up until Aragog is old enough to have some babies, none of the current competitors stand a chance.
-[X] Ask the english speaking guy some questions. Where are you? Why are you here? What are you doing exactly?

'Fraid we got a touch inter our cups last eve, weight of a sudden great mess o' bad news all at the once. Can't rightly recall nawt 'fore waking with most of our clothes gone and a splitting headache ter boot.

Click to shrink...

You, on the other hand, have a fantastic Hagrid voice.

 

[Vindictus]

[X] Retire from the ring. Up until Aragog is old enough to have some babies, none of the current competitors stand a chance.
-[X] Ask the english speaking guy some questions. Where are you? Why are you here? What are you doing exactly?

 

[megrisvernin]

[X] Retire from the ring. Up until Aragog is old enough to have some babies, none of the current competitors stand a chance.
-[X] Ask the english speaking guy some questions. Where are you? Why are you here? What are you doing exactly?

 

[kinglugia]

[X] Retire from the ring. Up until Aragog is old enough to have some babies, none of the current competitors stand a chance.
-[X] Ask the english speaking guy some questions. Where are you? Why are you here? What are you doing exactly?

 

[Biigoh]

[X] Retire from the ring. Up until Aragog is old enough to have some babies, none of the current competitors stand a chance.
- - [X] Ask the english speaking guy some questions. Where are you? Why are you here? What are you doing exactly?

 

[fitzgerald]

[X] Plan Chibi

 

[Uruloki]

[X] Retire from the ring. Up until Aragog is old enough to have some babies, none of the current competitors stand a chance.
- - [X] Ask the english speaking guy some questions. Where are you? Why are you here? What are you doing exactly?

 

[SemiSaneAuthor]

[X] Retire from the ring. Up until Aragog is old enough to have some babies, none of the current competitors stand a chance.
[X] Ask the English speaking guy some questions. Where are you? Why are you here? What are you doing exactly?

[X] Allow Aragog to walk alongside you, putting the little guy back in your coat would be cruel and he needs his vitamin D.
- As I really want to see some French soldiers quietly freaking out in the background from seeing Aragog and Hagrid being completely oblivious.

 

[icreddragon]

[X] Plan Chibi

 

[Guile]

The owner of the Monsieur Mal is staring with a kind of horrified awe as the sounds of crunching bones arise from Aragog. He shuffles around a little to get a better view, but he's wise enough not to get too close - Aragog's still not big on sharing. You're working on it. It seems you've impressed the whole lot. Makes sense of course, they can clearly tell an acromantula of Aragog's obvious quality. ... But you've got that little itch, the one that means a proferssor's about to scold you for missing something. After a few seconds you remember! Acromantulae aren't a thing, so far as muggles know, are they?

Well, the muggles will come up with something to explain it. It'll be fine!

"Oi friend," you try to snap him out of it. It takes a tick but his eyes snap right back up to you proper quick. It's funny, the wideness of his peepers and his long face... if his face was a little gaunter, he'd put you in mind of a thestral. You've always liked thestrals. Well, most beasts, really. "Go' a few questions fer yeh."

He scratches the sweat-stained underarm of his off-white jacket, blinking fiercely as he struggles to not look at Aragog long enough to speak. "Yes, fine. But first, where did you find zat creature?"

"Raised 'im meself I did!" you say with pride. It wasn't easy, raising a monstrous spider in a children's school, but what other choice did you have? It's not his fault his mom left her egg sac unattended way too close to the school and he wandered in. He was too young to survive on his own, so of course you lent a hand to a critter in need. Who wouldn't-especially when they're so darn cute?

"You breed zem?" the lizard-raiser asks with a shudder, happily knocking you back out of your memories of Aragog's adorable baby months.

"… Can I have one?" Horse-face asks, cementing himself instantly as your favorite of the bunch. Even Aragog's looking at him without looking too peckish about it-for other people that's a great first impression!

"Well, he's still a mite small for breedin', yet," you explain. "Still hasn't hit 'is adult growth yet! An' I s'pose I'll need ter find or buy 'im a mate fer that."

Oh, Aragog is giving you the puppy eyes. Having eight of them, it's at least four times more effective than when pups do it. None too shy about what his instincts are asking of him - never has been, and he don't need to be. As long as he can keep a lid on it 'til you find him a proper home-

"He will get bigger?" Lizard-man looks vaguely ill.

Whispers murmur back and forth.
"Y'a des histoire à propos de l'Afrique, mais..."
"À propos d'animaux immense, sure, mais des bestioles comme ça?"
"J'imagine de terrible forêts, plus immense que les plus gros immeubles et des centaines de ces-"
"Arrête de rendre les choses encore pire, merde!"

" 'Course! Acromantulae keep growin' all their lives. Give this lil' fella another six months, an' he'll be twice as big as he is now!" Bit of a showboat now that you aren't keeping him secret, little Aragog does a happy wriggle, tapping out a solid beat on the already stomped-down desert scrub with his legs. You're sure there's not an eye in twenty paces that didn't get a solid gander at that little performance! He'd make it on the stage.

"Cannibal..." comes the whisper from the crowd of muggles.
"...c'est assez mignon par contre-"
"Quoi. Non, n'explique même pas...stop."

"Yes, of course. Ah, but where are my manners? Jean Abel," Horse-face introduces himself with a nod that wobbles his cap.

"Rubeus Hagrid," you introduce yourself. "Formerly of Hogwarts School of- well, nevermind tha'. Now, 'bout them questions. Where, uh… where are we?"

The crowd starts up again. Bit rude, that.
"Il sait pas?"
"Comment il peut pas savoir?"
"Sure, moquons nous du géant avec l'araignée encore plus grosse pour ne pas être au courant."
"Je peux appelé un idiot un idiot. Du moment qu'il ne comprend pas le langage."
"Donc on se concentre sur tous sauf l'a-"
"Ferme ta gueule avant que les choses deviennent encore pire pauvre con!"

"Got a touch inter me cups last night, weight of a whole lotta bad news. Can't rightly recall what happened after that," you admit.

"How long were you drunk?" Jean asks incredulously. "We have been at zis staging ground in the Levant for three days, waiting for ze British and Australians!"

"Yeah, funny story…" you mutter sheepishly, scratching your beard. It's like he's never heard of a drunken wander before.

"He could have come in with ze Senegalese tirailleurs or ze North African spahis?" Lizard-man pondered. A few heads nod at that comment that's at least half frogspeak, but others-

"Il a l'air d'un colonial français à tes yeux, Alan?"
"Il a l'air d'un Ogre à mes yeux."
"Tu devrais lui dire ça. On va juste rester là, à regarder-"
"Tu me crois vraiment si stupide!?"
"...qu'est-ce qu'il peux être d'autre alors ?"
"Un membre de la cavalerie ?"

"Hah! Où est-ce que tu vas trouver un cheval suffisamment gros ? À moin que tu pense qu'il chevauche son araignée au combat?" smirks a young lad with a wispy moustache that's frankly a bit sad. He gets some raucous laughter, and a rough pat on the metal helmet he's sporting even in this heat.

"Possible," 'Alan' says insistently, with the air of a man determined to stick to a theory.

"No matter," Jean says with finality. "He is here, he will fight. It does not matter, ca va?"

"Right, right, 'course," you nod along knowledgably. "Always up fer a scrap. An'… we're fightin' who, exactly?"

Bunches of faces put on that fierce look teachers sported when you forgot an assignment, and Jean slaps his face with his bare palm in disbelief.

"Il se moque de nous, j'pense."
"J'sais pas. Je pense qu'on a suffisamment d'évidence qu'il est pas réel, donc c'est parfaitement logique qu'un personnage imaginaire soit pas au courant des événements dans le monde réel."
"Qu'est que que tu baragouine encore?"
"Comme si t'avais une meilleur explication. C'est complètement ridicule!"
"Ferme la, sont araignée regarde vers nous." A few nervous gulps and sideways glances after that bit of foreign jabber.

You are getting real tired of the peanut gallery not speaking words you understand, although watching them push each other around as they talk is kind of funny.

"Mon dieu," Jean exclaims loud enough to make you wince. "We go to Damascus, so that those Vichy-led fools that call themselves Frenchmen won't fold to the damn Germans!"

So they are French! Well, some of them. Looking around, you see some other folk that have all sorts of different looks to them. Including a lot of dark-skinned lads, now that you think of it. More than you've ever seen in your life, really. You wonder if this is the most worldly company you've ever kept, or if hags and goblins - English nationals though they are - count for more.

"If ze Germans gain ze Levant, they will have all ze ports and airfields zey would wish for, control of the Suez Canal, and easy access to oil besides."
"And the Desert Fox, cursed be his ancestors, will run right through Egypt and up our backsides if we must fight on two fronts for long," a crinkly old African in a red fez added worriedly.

At which point you perk right on up – that sounds important. You lean over the dark-skinned man and ask, "Wha' was that 'bout a fox?"

"Yes, the Desert Fox Erwin R-"
You smile thoughtfully. "Desert fox givin' you some troubles, eh?"

He leans back, out of your personal space. To do it he has to approach the horizontal, but he manages it.

You go on, warming to the idea. "Aw, 'e sounds like a big softie - I bet if someone took the time to corner the bugger and show him what's what, he'd behave."

"You think we haven't tried?" the African asks you incredulously. "Better men have tried. He's a ghost!"

A ghost fox? Don't that beat all. It explains why the muggles are so afraid of course; they don't have your experience with ghosts. "Ah, I bet yer just not huntin' him right. I bet I could wrangle him right off."

A contemptuous snort from Alan. "I'm sure you can, man mountain."
Jean frowns. "I'm not sure he-"

"Good ter hear a vote of confidence like tha' - yeah, I don' like ter toot me own horn much but I'm a pretty good tracker – somethin' like a fox? Run o' the mill after what I've seen."

Good days wiled away in the Forbidden Forest come back to you. You come over all nostalgic.

"You are English, yes?" the African asks. At your nod, he spits and declares, "One would think there was not a brave man left among the British after the Desert Fox was done with them in Tobruk last year. How would you even find him? He is cunning as his name, that one."

He seems a little overly proud of the slippery fellow.

"Yeh bet I could!" You're not normally one to brag, but this sounds right up your alley.

A caustic laugh from Alan. "Maybe he should!"

Aragog speaks again – looks like the little guy's finished his meal. "Fox is tasty. Would desert fox be more or less savory than English, you think?"

"Mon dieux, elle est vraiment cannibale, vous l'avez entendu!"
"… Ventriloque."
"Ouais!"

And that fellow with the braid looks like he's done jawing, too. At least, he spots you with these other blokes and starts coming over.

[X] Hunt the Desert Fox to prove yourself! That'll show 'em.
[X] As fun as that sounds you were getting an introduction with your original guide… you think?
[X] There's still other things you could poke into around camp. Those pigeons, for instance, or those big metal muggle toys.
[X]-Write in!

 

[kinglugia]

[X] There's still other things you could poke into around camp. Those pigeons, for instance, or those big metal muggle toys.

 

[Thomasfoolery]

[X] Hunt the Desert Fox to prove yourself! That'll show 'em.

If there's one thing we're good at it's dealing with beasts, sadly... well hilariously actually, we're instead dealing with people. That said I do think there's some opportunity for success here, I vaguely recall it being mentioned that Rommel would go on rather risky scouting missions personally.

 

[megrisvernin]

[X] Hunt the Desert Fox to prove yourself! That'll show 'em.

 

[Selias]

[X] Hunt the Desert Fox to prove yourself! That'll show 'em.

 

[Torgamous]

A fox that can make this many people worried is probably closer to a full-grown Cerberus than the foxes they've got in England. Best leave that alone.

[X] There's still other things you could poke into around camp. Those pigeons, for instance, or those big metal muggle toys.