Kissing Up to a GM

Uami: Twi'lek Rampant

Tue, 11 Sep 2007 00:39:08 GMT

Not only do I shoot TIE fighters out of the sky, I cause ruckus planetside, too.

http://forums.gleemax.com/showthread.php?t=918224

ahem. Hello.

Thu, 09 Aug 2007 04:04:38 GMT

I rolled, like, seven 20s tonight.

Star Wars. w00t.

Thu, 08 Feb 2007 05:50:35 GMT

At some point I'll start from the beginning of the Great Caravan Adventura. I'll also have to come up with the general story for Imilal (the Joyous) and Gustav In Hell, but the problem with that storyline....well, I don't know how to tell it from a crazy litorian's point of view. I mean, talking to yourself? Anyways.

tonight: WE ARE GODS. shacking goo.

more later, te prometa.

For Gustav in Hell

Tue, 05 Dec 2006 06:38:46 GMT

Allow me to present to you Imilal (Imi), a level 10/1 Litorian eldritch mage blade, about 24 years old.

Str 16, Dex 16, Con 14, Int 12, Wis 7 (she's a little...crazy), Cha 15.

Bond to the Blade (eldritch Talent) (2 initiative, +1 difficulty spell class), Bonded Item, Combat Reflexes (extra attack of opportunity), Weapon Focus (+1 attack), Weapon specialization (+2 damage). Fights with a spiked buckler (+1 AC) and a crystal laced masterwork halberd (+10 hardness, +1 attack rolls) as the athame (+1 use). Wears a chain hauberk (+5 AC, mvmt -5 ft) and a pair of Gauntlets of Strength (like the pair Sachea has) (+1 AC).

Eldritch athame (+1 attack when used): The athame retains any magical
qualities it had in its normal form along with its inherent enhancement
bonus, and it returns to normal after 10 minutes. The eldritch
blade can choose to return it to its normal form before that time.
The athame can become any weapon that is the same size or one
category larger or smaller than its base form. The eldritch blade gains
no special proficiency with the weapon. He can transform it into an
exotic weapon, but if he lacks the Exotic Weapon Proficiency feat, he
takes penalties as normal. An eldritch blade can transform his athame
into a ranged weapon, but he must supply ammunition as normal.

Spells, lvl 0/1/2/3/4 = 4/3/3/2/0 per day

HP = 69 (if Con modifier is 0) or 111 (if Con modifier is 6)--Bill, I have to ask you about this.

AC = ? ...current AC bonus is + 7

Attack bonus (2 attacks) = +16/+11 (+1 if eldritch blade is used) (athame says +6 on an attack, +1 for lvl 1 and +1 up to +5 for every level after 4th...didn't factor this into the bonuses yet, for it is a Bill question)

Damage: 1d10 + 2 (I think)--again, a Bill question.

Initiative = ?

Climb (6/3/3)
Concentration (12/2/10)
Jump (11/3/8)
Knowledge--Planes (4/1/3)
Search (9/1/8)
Spellcraft (11/1/10)

Alchemy
Balance
Craft
Intimidate
Knowledge (litorians)
Swim
Sneak
Survival
Language
Heal
Notice

Spells:
Shimmering Shield, Athame Defense, Sprightly Step, Summon Athame, all simple level spells.

Imi was born near Ao-Mansa and practically grew up as a mage blade. The choice to become eldritch was not really a choice, simply the way her life went. Her teacher, a giant named Ua-Hathaj, was also an alchemist, though not a very good one; an accident in his laborotory when Imi was 10 burned the right side of her face with acid. The fur there is white and shaped like a star. The rest of her fur is very dark brown--not quite black--with black leopard-like spots; her right ear is half white, and so are her right whiskers.

Though quite charming, Imi has never been a great forethinker. When faced with the cost of teleporting to De-Shamod to see the conclave of dragons there, Imi decided to spend a little more gold and get the spell tattoed on herself; she thinks it was a botched incantation on the artists' part that landed her in the Hellish plane, especially since the tattoo disappeared as soon as she appeared on the plane. For the first week she did not see another living soul that she could recognize as such and so began talking to herself to keep herself calm. When she met up with a pair of humans a week later, they decided she was a good distance on her way to being mad and not worth the trouble of keeping around, so they tried to kill her quietly. She killed them instead, and ate part of one's leg before realizing what she was doing. In penitence she fasted for three days and the resulting hallucinations did not in any way help her tenuous hold on reality.

By the time she meets up with anyone else, Imi is constantly attended by voices (a particularly persistent one is called "nanny") and so fed up with being alone that her temper is short and runs hot and cold. The littlest thing might set her off (nanny often is the littlest thing) but she can be quiet and passive for hours if no one threatens her (think River Tam with more muscle, less dancing, and a considerably stonier view of the world at large). The horrors she's seen on the Hellish plane have failed to noticeably surprise or shake her, but there is no doubt that she wants to get back to the Diamond Throne, no matter what the politics happen to be at the time.

The Return of the Tonguebreaker

Thu, 30 Nov 2006 16:56:04 GMT

Sort of, at least. Bill's started a new game called Wilderlands that involves at least most of our group from AE; just switch Alison for Bret and there you are. We've been playing that for about two months now while Bill moves and makes all the transitions he needs to. AE is a lot of prep work for him, but for my money it's worth it.

When I learned the dragon had Havanar Balacos for a hireling, I knew I couldn't be a defender of Eirdenos anymore, nor could I swear Tetrathalichandar's oath, no matter how long. Gustav and Lena, however, had no such compunctions, so whilst they were discussing the philosophy of Justice with the dragon, I beat as kindly a retreat as I could and left the city. I knew Gustav would swear his year with the dragon. Kevara and I agreed that betwixt the two of us we could probably take him down if needs became; Balacos had convinced the dragon that the prudent thing to do would be to rid the Diamond Throne of giants. I would not do that. Heading out of the city, I caught word that Rhi-Motan had gone south'ard towards Ao-Mansa. Having no better direction, Kevara and I headed that way as well.

Along the way we dispatched a cyclops. Small beer.

At Thayn we met up with Iltrin, Girvin, and a giantish army they'd found in De-Shamod. The army was too small by half to deal with the chorrim around Eirdenos, though that was their task; they were to break the threat against Navael and points further south, leaving the dragon with Eirdenos. We rode and drilled with the army for a few days before scouting ahead to Navael, where we found....Gustav, ahead of the chorrim host that Balacos had sent. Gustav, I'm sure, thought he was doing the right thing, trying to convince the giantish guardian of the city to lay down arms and surrender. Kevara, however, let slip that Havanar Balacos was behind the army--something Gustav had failed to mention--and so the mayor threw us out of her audience. For the next three days we tried to speak with her and failed, as her mostly-faen population drilled to defend the city and the two armies got closer to the city and each other.

Finally on the third day, with each army hours away, Feldwin, Kevara and I got to see her again. She would not pull her people out of the city, nor would she surrender, no matter what we said. She seemed resigned to the fact that Navael would be crushed between the two armies, and that the giants most likely would not win. Gustav had teleported back to Eirdenos to try to wring terms of surrender for Navael from the dragon, but had not returned.

Feldwin and I managed to convince the giantess to let us lead a pack of refugees--women, children, and the aged--out of Navael before the town was crushed. We are on the road now, heaing south again, where I hope De-Shamod will take them in, or I can find them other shelter.

thought I had longer to write this...guess I was wrong! Next week: GUSTAV IN HELL!

Tue, 05 Sep 2006 03:27:16 GMT

The road to Ao-Mansa was not easy or short. Of course the road was beset by bandits; Feldwin discovered that they were working for an Arboreal Corruptor, which he insisted we root out and destroy. Halfway through the fight with a tree (oh ye absent gods, your sense of humor vexes me) I got knocked to the ground and out of the world--and woke up again when we were nearly to the city. Ao-Mansa's roads are well kept and travelled by many, so I was not surprised to find a familiar traveller on the road. I was, however, surprised to find Hanril Tanneson, behind the mask of a Champion of Justice--of all things. Of. All. Things.

Speaking of Gustav....

He had gotten arrested. Twice. And jailed. And fined.

Hanril bailed him out, only to insist that Gustav pay the Debt of Justice he owed Hanril; somehow our naive little Champion talked his way out of it, and talked Hanril into coming back with us to fight the chorrim that'd destroyed Thunderbrook in the dragon's absence and probably beset Eirdenos in our absence. (It sounds thick of me, I know, but we have done a lot for that city since coming there almost a year ago, and the news we recieved did have the "If only you'd been there" taint to it... .) As it were, all the rest of us were road-weary and temperamental (and Iltrin and Slorath wanted to wait around to see if Hanril would just attack Gustav for spite's sake) and so Kevara, Feldwin and I voted loudly for a night at the Ao-Mansa docks for drinking, wenching and the like.

Runechildren are charismatic and respected, and apparently a tattoo on the face will bring sailors with deep pockets by the handful. I found a dockside mead that I liked and so don't remember a lot of the evening, although I did end up in the river at one point with a pair of owl's wings sprouting from my shoulders. Feldwin told me my attempts to fly in halfway form were funny--but this was coming from a spryte who'd literally gotten the brush-off from more than a few giantesses that evening.

We made good time back to Eirdenos until we came upon a camp that'd been recently burgled. I flew ahead as a full owl and got there first--and found a woman, still alive, near the fire, while two men with loot-sacks rode off. I sent the rest after them and saw to the woman; she came round with a simple Lesser Battle Healing from my new tattoo and said her name was Isabel. Her husband was a merchant (now deceased) and the others came back to say there was a bandit camp a few miles off.

Coming near to, Feldwin and Slorath blasted the camp; we approached quiet-like, feeling uneasy about it. Iltrin came to the camp first and from the grass sprang a giant snake--a totem snake--and my Cai, my fourteen-foot-wingspan Cai, scooped it up like a dinner finally fit for him.

Turns out the totem snake belonged with Gustav's sister. HIS SISTER. I wished I believed in gods sometimes, so I'd have someone to ask the questions to when I died. Gustav kept Hanril from killing her, and the rest of us too--and worked out part of her story, starting with the destruction of their village. She'd made a life for herself as a snake warrior fighting with the bandits; after the promise was made that her snake would behave, I made Cai let her go. And then Gustav--who I'm sure has some Champion-lent talent that makes people listen to him--convinced her and us to let Lena travel with us, to redeem herself and her ways. I knew he'd had a sister in his old life. I really hadn't expected him to find her, or for her to be as she is.

But now Gustav has to balance his sister against Hanril and those of us who do not trust her (me, I am ambivalent, so long as she harms none of us), Hanril against himself, and Lena against himself. He is young, and naive, which is why he believes this will work and I think why it is working so far. I only hope it continues to.

We bypassed Thunderbrook and got Isabel back to her family in Navael. We were about three days' hard ride from the city when we hit the wall of chorrim.

Thousands. And more thousands. A sea of chorrim, camped between us and the city. And a scout party riding for us.

Stay tuned next week for the stunning conclusion...!

Thu, 20 Jul 2006 03:22:51 GMT

Here are several sessions' worth of news--I can't remember what went on when, so I'm not going to try to split it up. I will say that the new inclusion of Zane/Slorath (why do all mohj names sound the same?) makes for a very nice dynamic--and by dynamic I mean "someone else who doesn't really like Gustav but who, like Sachea, will go along with him when it's for the good of the group". Haaaanyways,

As soon as our resupply business was done in Eirdenos, we collected the stray remnants of the group and galloped East, the damneable Crown in Gustav's haversack. For the first three days or so the thing kept quiet, owing, we supposed, to the witchery that keeps things inside haversacks--but then on the fourth day it suddenly fell out of the sack, whether by common occurance or its own magic, I don't know. I do know that it was no accident. As I picked it up from the road where it had fallen, the thing immediately began whispering in my head-- "With me you could be great, the greatest runechild, we can fix the world together--"

"Oh, shut up," I said crossly, and shoved it back in Gustav's haversack.

We rode onwards, running steadily for two days and a night and resting one. No one bothered us--in fact we encountered no one--though the crown did wiggle its way out of the bag one other time. When it did Gustav snatched it back in as though he was either afraid or jealous of anyone else touching it, which, of course, made me wonder. Between the pair of us we've seen two of our comerades give up their souls (and their heads) to this thing, and so while Gustav is the person I trust the most (besides myself, of course) to see this mission through, he is also the one I trust the least to carry the crown. The more powers he garners as a Champion, however misguided, the less I believe I'd be able to stop him if he did truly decide to take on the crown--and at the same time he grows more self-involved and assured that he is at least going to be an ultimate authority in our world. Right now I cannot compete with him physically, though my runechild powers--frightening in and of themselves--grow in strange and ever-stronger bursts. If there must be a confrontation between us, I ask whatever weakling gods remain in heaven that it wait until I am stronger.

Strange, too, was that we saw no red mists til the fifth or sixth day out. It must have been the sixth, for we were making camp for the night, and Feldwin noticed a campfire a ways off--a campfire with a red mist floating round it. I dropped into owl form (small enough to go unnoticed) and made for the fire. The mist was gathering slower than I was used to seeing it, and the figure by the fire--tall, hunched and hooded, even alone--didn't seem to notice it until the creature manifested out of it. Another scorpion-tailed thing, though smaller and rather sickly looking--I came back into my human form and unslung my bow as quietly as possible, waiting, I confess, to see what the stranger would do.

The mist-scorpion lashed out at the stranger, who immediately took off--a levitation spell, I'm guessing--and threw a fireball at it. I hit it with two of my new flaming arrows and did it more damage than I was expecting (but who am I to argue?), then called out to the stranger.

"If you've got a defensive spell, mage, now would be a good time to bring it up!"

A few fireballs and even more arrows later, the mist-scorpion collapsed back into itself and I dropped out of the tree, puzzled at how easily it had gone down. I might guess that the further we rode out from the crater, the weaker the mist got, but that would only be a guess.

I rolled out of my tree, trying to seem as unthreatening as possible, and called to the stranger to see if he was hurt; I'd seen the scorpion-thing sting him at least once. He landed, pulled back his hood--and turned out to be a mohj. Not the mohj who'd turned Sobenn to glass, but taller, and seemingly weaker, although that might have been the effects of the scorpion sting. He--it--gave its name as Slorath and said it'd been heading west (back towards Eirdenos) when the scorpion attacked it. I gave him--it--my name and offered to heal what hurt I could assist with; I'm not the healer needed to deal with poison like that, but I think I eased some of his weakness. I mentioned that Feldwin would be along soon, as with the rest of our companions, and that if he couldn't do anything there was always Tetrathalichandar in the city.

Have you ever mentioned a living dragon's name to a mojh? It's like watching a starving man fall into a bread wagon. I told the mojh that if Tetrathalichandar was hesitant to give him aid, that he should say Sachea Tonguebreaker (Runechild, Totem Warrior, and all-around Favorite) sent him. Slorath thanked me and was about to go Westernwards again when the rest of my group showed up. Introductions went well enough but Gustav took an immediate dislike to Slorath, as did Iltrin--but Iltrin is sibeccai, so I suppose he has an excuse. Gustav had none, and tried to administer a Touch of Justice (actually, he would continue trying for several days, not seeming to realize that when you cast a spell on a spellcaster, they--or really, anyone else--tend to notice all the hand-waving, muttering, and general casting motions.), which of course did not endear him to our new acquaintence. The scorpion's poison had weakened him, but Kevara said that if he came with us, over the next several days she could heal him, albeit slowly; and so it was that Slorath joined our group.

We started passing burnt-out villages: some looked to have been raided, others savaged by beasts, but not a one held any survivors. Where we could we gave the bodies a respectful burning, and despite my fear of the oathsworn waiting my return at the Temple of Johrd, I feared more the idea that that village, too, would have met with some all-quelling end.

Have I mentioned I hate being right?

We could see the smoke from the residual fires as we approached the village, and I kicked my horse into a gallop down the final hill. The village was far gone: not a soul lived. A vast glass statue that looked like a dire version of a mist-scorpion stood outside the temple. The temple was in little better shape, though enough time had passed for nearly everything to have been looted from it. Gustav and I charged into the temple and drew up short against another party that, now that I think on it, was a lot like ours: a few humans, a couple sibeccai, a litorian, all of differing but complimentary callings. (So much for our singular brand of heroism) Before Gustav could challenge them to a fight I started asking questions: their foreman, inasmuch as he was one, said they'd been scouting around for a day or so but there was nothing left. When I asked about the Hammer, he told me he'd seen a litorian, a Champion of Freedom by the sigil on his shield, leave with a bag of loot the day they'd arrived. He'd been heading for Thayn and the magic-items emporium there, he said; it was, apparently, all Gustav needed to hear. He charged out of the temple and galloped off west. I wondered briefly if he knew how to get to Thayn (I'd been there on my way to Eirdenos), then decided even more quickly that I really didn't care.

A resounding crash heralded Girvin and Tobor's success at pulling down the statue. There was muttering amongst us about the mohj that had turned Sobenn to glass, but we didn't have time to explore what that path might lead us to. We remounted and galloped off after Gustav, and passed him watering his horse about an hour later. I only asked as we passed if he'd gotten lost already; I don't think he wanted to dignify my question with a response.

Thayn is home not only to a runethane-run magical university, but to Vegey's Magic Emporium: the biggest collection of magic items on the conitinet. A few of us went to meet Vegey and inquire about the Hammer of Johrd; while I spun some tale about needing a special saddle for bow-hunting, we tried to get an answer about purchasing or even just borrowing the Hammer. Vegey, charming and obliging as he was, would have none of it, would not even hint at what price might make him break the deal with the person in Ao-Mansa who'd already purchased the Hammer.

Girvin, meantime, had secured us rooms at the Airsick Sailor, and so we repaired to the inn to plot and scheme about how to lay hands on the Hammer. Gustav was all for going to the airship docks and demanding it as it was being loaded onboard; Iltrin and Kevara were more inclined to hijack the airship it would be transported on. Airships fascinate me: they always have, and so I started buying drinks for some of the airship captains in the common room, plying them for information about the ships in the case that we did end up stealing or hijacking one. An endietic memory is a handy thing when drunken airship captains get it in their heads to tell you all they know about piloting one of those things... .

I woke later than usual the next morning and headed down from the room Kevara and I shared in search of breakfast. Through the window I saw a giantish figure, cloaked and hooded, carrying a glaive and paused outside the inn. Suddenly my rune chilled in my skin.

A rune-reaver.

In a town so heavy with runethanes I suppose they might be expected, but I was suddenly taken with a bowel-shaking fear that nothing I'd known had matched. He would kill me, he was there to kill me, and he'd eat the runic power from me, from my face like so much rice pudding. I will fully admit that the time between then and our entrance into the University was spent hiding in my room with Cai between me and the door. We did eventually leave for the University with hopes to avail ourselves of the library and its information on possible alternates to the Hammer of Johrd. I spent 250gold to find out as much as I could about the mist-monsters; Slorath was nice enough to look up rune-reavers so that I would not have to think about them so much. At every turn I was called 'honored runechild'. I do not understand this. I have not changed my life since the rune appeared on my face, except that since people seem to expect me to know or do things, I am a little more forceful in the knowing or doing, or at least the finding-out part. The powers my rune gives me I've used for my own gain, inasmuch as I use anything for it; and yet, in Thunderbrook, Eirdenos and now here, I am deferred to and called 'honored'. Of course now there are giantish glowing creatures who can kill me with a touch, where before there were none.

On the way back to the inn (around dinnertime) it was decided--not by me--that with Girvin's Hat of Concealment and Feldwin's magical force, someone posing as Vegey could break into the warehouse and steal the Hammer. Gustav also added that we could use the same tactic to return it; he was the only one worried that far. Vegey's storerooms were blockaded by powerful runes, but those who would take part in the plan had no worries about that. Under Feldwin's Ring of Invisibility I followed along, vaguely promising to watch out but preoccupied with looking out in all directions for the rune-reaver.

Apparently there were a lot of explosions.

By this time I'd taken refuge along the opposite-the-street side of the warehouse, so when I knew the guards had come for my friends I screamed a vague wail about my baby and a fire; it did not impress. Everyone managed to get away, though, and we decided to head back to the Inn lickety-split and avoid any further awkwardness. Did I say 'avoid'?--Because outside the Inn I felt my rune chill again, and this time I knew the rune-reaver was coming for me.

The battle was extensive and exhaustive and Gustav almost died--and to tell truly, I did not want him to. In the end I took the rune-reaver's head, smashing out its teeth to make myself a necklace. Runethanes from the University arrived at the Inn when they felt him die and said that the rune-reavers' heads fetched 5000gold apiece. They also fetched for us the Hammer from Vegey's warehouse, for Vegey and his guards were dead, killed by the rune-reaver for the power of the runes protecting Vegey's hoarde. Suddenly the mission was almost ended: a runethane could teleport us all the way to the sea; we had the hammer; we had even extra gold for killing the rune-reaver. Things happened so fast: we went to the sea, outside Ao-Mansa, and destroyed the crown again. Then Gustav insisted on staying in that spot till he was assured that the crown would not rise from the waves; nothing anyone said could make him teleport back with us. The runethane took charge of the Hammer again, and we--minus one--returned to the Airsick Sailor. It had taken less than half of an hour to complete our quest. How odd.

The runethanes favored us, then, with some information: the investigation into the warehouse break-in and Vegey's death would start the day after tomorrow, and so "anyone who was involved, if you might have met anyone" had about a day and a half to get out of town--though we didn't say that aloud till the runethanes were gone. Gustav had a day or so's walk to Ao-Mansa; it would take us the better part of a week to cross the mountains between Thayne and Ao-Mansa to meet him. I hoped he'd find something to occupy his time in Ao-Mansa and not try to meet up with us again in Thayn, else I feared he'd be arrested. No matter what, though, our missions were complete, and Ao-Mansa was as good a next destination as any.

Wow. That was kinda ridiculous. I don't think Sachea would mind staying out of the dragon's reach for a while, and I must say--I really, really like the idea of her becoming a rune-reaver hunter. It's badass, ironic, and totally appropriate.

Flesh out

Sat, 03 Jun 2006 18:06:19 GMT

*Riding back to Thunderbrook with The Crown: Gustav and Girvin on night watch see ghost kids asking for Justice. Two nights later Feldwin and Tobor see them too. Hide the crown in an extradimensional haversack and go off sidetracked.

*In Thunderbrook: asking about the missing children (Jolen and Valley). Loners, precocious, bullies, etc. A woman approaches Sachea about healing her daughter because Sachea's a runechild; Sachea and Feldwin help, but Sachea gets all the credit. Alara has left the town in protest of the dracha presence; we find her in the woods a few miles out. She and Sachea talk frankly; Iltrin's sexy sibbeccai presence helps convince her to move back to town and help find the kids.

*Kids bodies are found under a rock, badly cut open, with tenebrian seeds inside. Magic reveals the last being they saw was Korath, Tet.'s mohj. We entrust Alara with keeping quiet and go off to Eirdenos to tell Tet. and get Korath. I send Cai ahead with a meeting reqest to Korath.

*In Eirdenos: 24 hrs sans sleep. Korath has gone, Tet. believes us at once and comes with to apprehend Korath. The mohj locked Cai in his office--even the dracha are afraid to let my angry 5-foot-tall owl out of the locked room...my poor baby.

*Korath and another dracha are camped out near the crater of the red mist monsters and Korath basically spills his guts when Tet. lands. The concentration of magic around us and Tet. call up six more mist-monster scorpions; all dead soon, I NEED A BOW THAT DOES DAMAGE.

*Korath and dracha (also confesses) are taken back to Thunderbrook: Alara has raised the town to the cause and demands not only their lives, but Tet.'s absence frm the town. Zachias and a few others side with Tet., but he withdraws his protection from Thunderbrook and the town rips the mohj and dracha apart. Literally. Ew. Good thing Gustav wasn't there....

*Selling loot in Eirdenos: I get a mighty compound fire template bow, does 1d8+5 damage; fire template does another 1d6, and I have +2 bodkin arrows. Now maybe I can get somewhere.

Thu, 27 Apr 2006 06:33:11 GMT

Another two in one shot. Sorry, life gets in the way of me updating or even remembering sometimes…This week we lacked Kevara/Allison and Jarvik/Wraith, who I think is actually out of the game now that his work schedule is so screwy.

So on to things:

It’s been a few weeks since His Royal Pain In The Ass (Tetrathalichandar to his new, loyal subjects) seized Eirdenos and ousted Hanril Tanner. Nothing’s been seen or heard of Hanril since then, although I have been trying—Belratha made a few interesting connections in Eirdenos before he died and I’ve been trying to find and exploit those since the takeover, wondering where Hanril managed to escape to. For the first week I was so angry with Gustav that I considered leaving our band and striking out after Tanner; Kevara managed to convince me otherwise, although I feel a little bad about the amount of wine she had to buy to turn my mind. As it stands, I’ve been spending the rest of my time helping Ri’Motan’s patrols oust the rest of the bandit pockets in the city. Gustav, damn him, has also been helping—and so dies my hope of avoiding both him and the dragon as much as possible. As to the latter, he sends messages through Ri’Motan and his associates when he wants my help; Ri’Motan knows to look either for Cai or myself, transformed, but the others don’t—and so Tetrathalichandar’s messages don’t always reach me. I’ve yet to weep over any of them.

A few nights ago I was scouting out for one of the patrols and saw a man riding hard in for the city; I have to admit I noticed his horse before I acknowledged the rider. The horse was—is—huge, armored like a siege engine and running at a speed one would think impossible for a beast carrying so much iron and steel. His rider, a sibeccai armed not nearly as well as his mount, seemed dwarfish on his back. Gustav’s patrol was closest, moving in towards the city for the evening, and so I lit in a tree near him and changed to share the news of our incoming rider. (His men, I think, never tire of seeing me shapeshift. I don’t know why—I learned how to keep my clothes with me a long time ago) Kevara, Feldwin and Tobor were in the city on different patrols, but I sent Cai to collect them before the rider reached our scout troop.

The sibeccai was named Iltrin, and he spun us a strange tale in asking for help: in days past he’d been hired as a bodyguard for a questing mage named Sobenn who had taken him and his cohorts to a castle in the east, wherein resided a Pillar of Green and a Pillar of Dark. Sound familiar? Apparently Sobenn had had a black glass crown with him –not wearing it, thank what gods there were—and along the way, something went wrong…and so Sobenn ended up with the crown on his head and three of Iltrin’s companions ended up as undead thugs. Iltrin himself escaped Castle Maab (yep, that’s where they were) and had ridden hard on his impressive steed to seek help at Eirdenos.

The crown, the Pillars, the undead; the Hammer of Johrd and the oath sworn in the city where I couldn’t return—ah, the fresh scent of adventure. Iltrin also spoke of a nightmarish man in black armor who had killed one of his companions; by that time we were assembled and Gustav and I were already committed to go. Ri’Motan, for once, looked sorely tempted to send his apologies to Tetrathalichandar and strike out with us to destroy the crown again, but in the end it was he who carried our news to the dragon. We left from the edge of the city with Iltrin. Gustav swore this time that he’d kill anyone who came within arm’s reach of the crown after it was back in his possession.

The trip back to Castle Maab was familiar and uneventful; Iltrin’s horse, the impressive beast, didn’t seem in the least bit weary after their headlong gallop back to Eirdenos. Gustav and I took turns filling the others in on the Castle and the crown and the Pillars—Tobor mostly agreed with us in his noncommittal way, even though he’d been there the last time as well. The castle itself was different only in the amount of chorrim bodies outside of it; once inside the tower, the fish-illusion snapped back into being and again we had to persuade Tobor that they weren’t real. At the top of the stairs something with a lot of blood in it had lost most of it, and likely died—but there was no body to be found.

We headed for the lower level immediately, or most of us did—Feldwin stayed atop to look around. There, again, were the crystal trees and the glamour-garden, and there too the shield over the room of the Pillars. The difference this time was only in a great gelatinous something that suckered towards us from the stairs leading to the room with the Pillars. As soon as I saw it, I knew nothing but fear: my knees were jelly, my belly like a ship in a high wind. I ran with all my strength to the top of the castle, down the tower stairs and out the door—where suddenly the fear stopped and I was left with Iltrin, Kevara, and Gustav, all of us sheepish and very angry that a glorified goober had chased us from the Castle, even with magic. We returned to kill it, but the thing’s wave of fear hit Iltrin and me again. Feldwin and Gustav had to finish it off.

By now I was well and truly angry, but glad also that Ri’Motan hadn’t come to see his comrades’ cowardice at a bowl of horse-hoof glue. Back in the basement, Gustav held the others out of earshot while I prepared to recite the code (called from the depths of my memory with no hesitation)—but I called Feldwin over anyways, to tell me if I was imagining things on the other side of the magic shield. I thought I saw a man in there. Feldwin didn’t.

The shield snapped off as soon as I’d recited the code, and I saw immediately that I’d been right: coming up the stairs was a man armored from head to toe in the kind of metal that Jarvik would have given his soul to possess. His steps sounded like death and from him I sensed great Darkness. Instinctively I stepped back.

“Food, water,” he demanded in Common.
“I have none,” I answered immediately, both hands ready to loose my axes, my sling, anything against this unnatural man.
“Where is the mage?” he asked.
“We have no mage,” I said, wondering if this was going to be the tenor of our whole conversation. “How did you get down there?” I asked, just to stir things up.
He stared at me for a moment. “The mage lured me in and then closed the shield behind me,” he said simply, then looked beyond me to my companions. “Food, water,” he demanded of them. Despite the uneasiness I felt around him, his manner was completely unthreatening. I saw Feldwin stand in offense at him and was glad I wasn’t the only one.

Iltrin recognized him too, as one who had killed one of his companions. The armored man gave his name as Hanavar Balacos, and demanded any and all information we had on Sobenn. Gustav was plainly impressed at the sight of someone so obviously a Champion, and so high-ranked, and so invited him to share rations from our stores outside of the tower. We told him, carefully, of Sobenn’s betrayal of our group and that we sought him to destroy him and the crown he wore. Balacos said immediately he had no interest in the crown and that Sobenn could keep his ‘plaything’, but that it called to him from only a little ways away: four or five hours’ walk, at most. He would kill Sobenn for trapping him. Feldwin and I hung back while Gustav asked if we could tag along.

Balacos walked while the rest of us rode in the direction he said Sobenn was headed. Along the way he and Gustav talked much; I hung out of reach with Feldwin, Tobor and Iltrin, securing plans to get to the crown before Balacos had the chance. Whatever he might say to the contrary, I did not want the slightest chance that so powerful a Champion of Death would get his well-armored hands on it. At one point, when I rode closer to him and Gustav, Hanavar Balacos looked at me and said, “You are a Runechild.”

“I have that honor of being,” I answered. I got the impression that he smiled under his helmet.
“Do you not know who I am?” he asked, and I answered honestly, “You are familiar, but I don’t know you”—because it was true, and I didn’t. He said nothing to me after that. A Runereaver would have tried to kill me just then, but he made no move—and so I tried to put it to the back of my mind. (Creepy).

As evening fell we reached the foot of a good-sized hill, and Balacos announced that Sobenn was in a ruin at the top, along with near to fifty rhodin he’d already summoned. Feldwin and I offered to scout up the hill, thinking—or rather, unthinking—that as sprite and owl we’d be easier to hide. (It was hard to decide not to hunt rhodin with the others—they fall so easily and so hard--but my use would be better put in scouting). Tobor and Iltrin would come up the hill when the inevitable fighting began, and Balacos announced he’d take care of the rhodin. All fifty? I wanted to ask, but kept my mouth shut, and Gustav, admiration shining in his eyes, offered to assist Balacos. Hanavar Balacos said, rather matter-of-factly, that he would not in the least way need Gustav’s help. Privately I thought he was right, but Gustav elected to stick by his side anyways.

As we over flew the ruins I realized how much we’d underestimated the situation. Yes, Sobenn had only had the crown a short time—but he’d been traveling with us for many weeks, and knew me in owl form and the sound Feldwin makes as he flies, even if he’s invisible. Later Feldwin told me Sobenn had enacted several spells against other spell casters as soon as we crested the top of the hill, though to his undead guards—a sibeccai, a human, and a faen—he offered no protection. The faen had once been a totem warrior, spirit to a frog, and his death and subsequent defacement as an undead angered me. As soon as Feldwin began firing spells at the undead and at Sobenn, I slid back into human form and started firing on our former akashic companion.

The sibeccai died quickly, as did the undead frog warrior; the human, once an oath sworn, was harder to kill. Sobenn took two of my arrows right to his torso, but true to form the crown began healing him almost straightaway; to complicate matters only as he could, he popped out of the plane (as I’m able to do) and neither Feldwin nor I could track him. Iltrin was hollering his way up the hill, but the slope was steep and long, and so he and Tobor were slow in getting to us. The oath sworn hid himself and started pitching stones at us; we dodged most of these and cornered him in a little one-room wreck in the ruin’s walls. For a while he hit me, and I hit him, and I might not have come out of it alive had Feldwin not managed to cast a spell to shake him apart from the inside. Then Sobenn popped back in.

We had him knocked out by the time Iltrin got there, and the sibeccai insisted on trying to pries the crown from his head—of course that didn’t work. He was standing over Sobenn’s prone form (which was healing by the second), arguing with me about not chopping off his head (as if that was actually an option) when we heard a great, sobbing “SOBENN!” bellowed from down the hill. Tobor—poor, loyal, stupid Tobor, who’d portered Sobenn around for so long before the akashic abandoned him—was lumbering up the hill, Bo hot on his heels. And he looked fit to murder.

Iltrin turned to look at Tobor approaching and I took that moment to behead the prone Sobenn. As soon as I grabbed a hold of the head by the hair I let myself pop out of the plane and halfway back down the hill, before Tobor could even acknowledge I and the head were gone; when my feet were on the ground again I lit off as fast as I could towards the horses. I’d no doubt Tobor would want my head for taking Sobenn’s, even if Kevara (his new favorite) would explain the situation to him; we had no chest in which to lock the head and the crown; I could not return to the town where the Temple of Johrd stood with the Hammer to destroy the fucking thing—hells, I didn’t even have Gustav to watch my back as I shoved the head in a saddlebag and prepared to mount and gallop off. I could only hope that my horse was fast enough to outdistance the others while they held off Tobor—hope they held off Tobor for me at all—and pray (grudgingly) to the misguided gods that Hanavar Balacos was telling the truth and did not want the crown.

Sachea's backstory

Wed, 15 Mar 2006 06:07:29 GMT

Memories are funny things.

What I remember of home is big. I don't mean to talk as though I've not been there in years--although with all I've been through this past season-turn it feels like years--but the Wood I knew growing up was very different from the Wood I ~~was turned away from~~ left when I turned grown-up. But growing up, everything about home was big and tall and high. The Floating Forest is like that, see.

Our family name, translated from Litorian, is Tonguebreaker. My father earned the honorific, and our homestead, helping defend the then new-minted town of Woodsmouth from some spellcasters (herrids, mohj or fairly ugly humans, depending on who you ask) that wanted the "great Secrets of the Forest for their own depraved use". I never got that part of Auntie's story; maybe she just put it in for effect: the only 'secrets' of the Floating Forest always involved not looking up with your mouth open and knowing how far a treed deer would be willing to leap from one airborn island to another. Woodsmouth itself was not a tiny hamlet by the time I was ~~whelped~~ born; about two hundred Litorians, mostly interrelated, and close to a hundred humans lived there and made their living farming in and below the gargantuan gassar trees. As for my family, my parents hunted the forest's edges and deeper in, selling hides and meat when there was plenty, acting as guides through some of the middle reaches (I will never understand what is so 'romantic' about the middle canopy of a gassar grove, but there were noble giants and humans a-plenty willing to pay to be led by the hand through it) and occasionally taking bounty on people who were thought to be hiding in our trees. They dealt with the heights when they had to--both of them being wolf-warriors and thus in deep, loving relationships with the ground--another thing I never quite understood.

There were six of us when I left, although with my mum and da's dispositions, numbers seven through whatever were still goodly possibilities. People talk about the mating habits of hares and rabbits as though they're worth the astonishment; I say, I'll raise you a pair of wolf warriors in heat any day. Saine and Lisson, the eldest, were twins; next came Treyu, the only other one of us besides me to turn up a totem that isn't a wolf; me, then Cait and Cairne, another set of twins.

Have you ever watched a pack of wolves? Probably not; most humans don't get the chance. The boss male and female--in this case, my parents--are usually the sire and dam of most of the rest of the pack. There's a litter of pups once a year or two years, depending on where the whole pack dens and food supply and whatnot; the pups, for the most part, obey the boss male and female in almost everything and tend to turn out pretty much the same. Oh, everyone's got personality, of course, but they're all gonna turn out wolves, ye ken? Another thing is, they tend to pick out scapegoats: a pup or young adult that is smaller, slower, skinnier, somehow different from the rest of the pack. Had Treyu been the only not-wolf, it'd've been him, but his luck and mine, he not only turned up wolverine (not even the rest of the family would challenge him in a temper), but I came tumbling along soon after. As it was, the other four left Treyu alone and until I discovered that the Floating Forest meant up as often as not, they picked on me. A lot.

Another thing a pack of wolves will do is to pick a nanny-wolf: an older female, usually, to mind growing-up pups while the rest of the pack is off hunting. Odd as it was to have a wolf-laden family (with an increasing number of totem companions in tow) living next to a largely Litorian village, it was even odder that one of my mum's dearest friends was an elderly Litorian woman we called Auntie. I heard Auntie's real name used maybe twice in my growing-up years and have since forgotten it; we all called her that, even Mum and Da and Ralas, the headsman of Woodsmouth, unless the situation was desparate for some reason. When I got old enough to climb (my brothers and sisters running in packs around the forest floor) Auntie scolded me plenty, but never chased me down from my trees. She sang to us and told us stories and taught me how to use my sling; there were hunting seasons I saw more of Auntie than I did my parents.

My siblings pulled pranks, but if I joined in I was relegated to watch-out or sentry duty. Treyu and I might have been closer if I could get him off the ground, but he was as solitary as I; the both of us spent a lot of growing up time alone. The children in the village were no better than my siblings when I came into my totem-spirit; the few I'd played with as a 'normal' little girl suddenly had chores aplenty when I came back with owl feathers in my hair. It was impossible that I not be a bird spirit: I climbed almost before I could walk and cared nothing for my parents and siblings needs to gather together for strength and warmth. I was stronger the higher I climbed, the farther I leapt, the faster I swung between branches. After the totem-dream came to me I learned how to listen rather than see during the day, and how to move soundlessly through the layers of forest. My brothers and sisters stopped picking on me when they got it through their heads that I could always climb out of their reach and still have space to move and play on my own. Never close to my parents, either--and that relationship strained even more after my totem-dream called me an owl.

I don't remember precisely when Auntie left us, nor if she died or simply got too old to care for us any more. All I know is that sometime between my twelfth and fourteenth birthingdays Auntie disappeared. Soon after, Treyu left to dig his own burrow deeper in the Forest, and Saine and Lisson headed off for the Harrowdeep to make their own packs. Soon after, Mum began asking when I was planning on getting on into the world. If a litter of wolf pups is big enough, they'll split off and find themselves new territory, trying to establish themselves as boss-dogs in their own rights; some will stay with the original pack to keep numbers up. Saine, Lisson and Treyu were doing their parts; Cait and Cairne were going to stay at home for the next litter (and like I said, no disrespect to her, but Mum might've been warming another one to pop out any day)--so that left me, the problem child, and what I should do with my life. The safest suggestion is to go out and find one's truename, and that's precisely what my father and mother did: gave me provision for three weeks and sent me packing. I still haven't found my truename, nor am I really looking anymore.

This rune on my face appeared with the death of Rir'tek-Na, the underground faen runechild in the tunnels. Sometimes it burns or seems to whisper; other times it does things for me, like carrying me place-to-place like lightning or letting me see fully in the dark. Even so far from the larger cities I'd heard stories of runechildren and the awesome deeds they might accomplish and to think that I'm on that playing field now ... Rir'tek-Na was doubtlessly a hero to those he lived with, but the rest of the world didn't know his name before he died. THere are statues of me (and the others) in Thunderbrook and the faen's caverns, but I'd rather go quietly than to the blare of trumpets. Leave the praise and adulation to my companions and let me watch from my treebranch or rooftop or dark corner.

Long story. Really.

Tue, 14 Mar 2006 05:49:05 GMT

Two in one: the story from the beginning to the present of the bandit-espionage escapade. I feel bad that Jarvik/Wraith has missed out on all of this, and for what happened to Belratha/Mike--but I'm really enjoying where Sachea's going in all this and how she's shaping up. And just to gloat: she's currently the highest-ranked character in the group, if you don't count the lost Runechild level. I'm sure Gustav or Feldwin will overtake me in XP soon enough, but for now, I am alone in the double-digits. Ha!

ps. Oh yeah--I have sketches of Hanril, Tetrathalichandar, and Tobor I want to post.

We tend not to stick in a group while we're in Eirdenos, so it wasn't until Hanril Tanner called us into his offices that Kevara, Belratha and I found out Feldwin and Gustav had gone down to Thunderbrook to see about the rewards the dragon is forever promising us. I suppose, considering Gustav's current petty rage against Hanril, that it was good he wasn't there for this meeting.

Hanril introduced us to two men from Eirdenos' intelligence network--spymasters of a sort, I guess you could call them. Seems the time for the bandits' seige was drawing short and there was a big to-do ceremony being prepared for. Victims from the major races--human, giant, faen, sibbecai and litorian--had been sacrificed already in the hopes of raising some otherplanar creature to bring down the rest of our library city, and now a sixth victim, a pale slave called an alabast, was being transported to the bandit enclave for the final sacrifice. The chief spy was interested in using us as plants in the incoming caravan, to infiltrate this ceremony, interrupt it, and kill most of the bandit leaders, including the mohj who'd done for Sobenn back at the inn. The main bandit was a harrid named Rikil Neverstar, and she was to be killed if at all possible. The spymaster and his companion, a man named Girvin, would accompany us as guards.

Hanril, to his credit, gave us a few days to think things over and perhaps wait on Feldwin and ~~the brat~~ Gustav to come back before giving our answer: involvement on the inside would limit our chance to kill the bandits on the outside. I sent Cai (ever bigger, ever smarter by the day) with a note, to Thunderbrook and the pair of them, hoping he found Gustav first, since he's less likely to mistake Gustav as a meal (though I'd shed few tears over him taking a few chunks out of the boy; Feldwin, on the other hand, has proven himself companionable as well as useful).

By the time Cai returned with the other two, we were all on board for the mission. We were to overtake the caravan, kill the guards and free the slaves, and drive it right into the heart of the bandit enclave. One of us--Kevara--would be made up as an alabast to fool the officiates, and the others of us would be glammered to hide our weapons and armor. With any luck and a good dose of surprise, we'd be able to kill Neverstar and her cronies as the main battle was pressing from the outside. Tobor, who has lately been glomming onto Kevara ("pretty lady", as he calls her) was convinced to stick with Ri'Motan's troops outside the temple. His new Bo is giant and white and has claws as long as my forearms--they should do fine for themselves.

Overtaking the caravan was no problem, although Cai fared better than I did at his part: he frightened the horses while we all attacked, or tried to. The bandit I took on was more than I'd bargained for, and I was near very bad by the time Feldwin was able to help me out. Kevara and Belratha certainly didn't seem to think less of me for not being able to take down my man, but Gustav had that smug look of ...I dunno, superiority about him as we made ourselves up as slaves. Very often justice and self-righteousness aren't far apart about him. Belratha, Girvin, the spymaster and Feldwin took up post as guards (Feldwin was invisible atop the wagon) and the rest of us chained ourselves into the wagon to trundle back towards Eirdenos.

Outside the enclave, there was a bit of trouble--I heard a scuffle with Belratha, but it sounded like the kind of thing he'd been able to keep quiet on his side of the wagon. We were all armed under our glammer as he and Girvin led us into the site of the ceremony; I could neither see nor hear Feldwin and could only hope he was about. Inside, there was a harrid within a spell-circle, the mohj, and a few other bandits--and when the harrid (Neverstar, I'm assuming) called for the alabast, we all let loose our disguises and fell on them.

Neverstar was the worst by far, although Feldwin's attemtps on the mohj were cut short when he disappeared from the room. I set about taking down the bandits in the corners, which was lucky for me--the others around Rikil Neverstar were hit by some kind of slow-spell, though they did manage to cut her down eventually. I'll say one thing for Gustav: give him a 'just' task and he'll finish the job sure enough. He wasn't good enough, though, to keep Neverstar from killing Belratha. Feldwin made her explode for that.

Soon as the room was clear--again, the fight did not go well for me as I'd wanted it to--and all our bloods were up, I saw Gustav snatch up Neverstar's head and sprint for the door. I did him one better: one minute I was in the room, the next I was outside with my bow in hand. I don't know how I'm doing it, but I've popped from place to place a few times now since being back in Eirdenos; certainly it comes in handy, especially when it means I can get the jump on the rear of an entire bandit militia and start dropping them from the rooftops.

There's something about being outdoors that just makes fighting so much better. That the bandit archers were all shooting at me--crossbowmen, pah--I minded not at all; that a fistful of swordsmen charged me made me no nevermind. I killed them all and kept on killing them, even as Gustav and Kevara charged past me to join the fight and a vast, dragon-shaped shadow swooped down over the battlefield. Tetrathalichandar crowed our little group's praises as he watched the battle ending in Eirdenos' favor, and then spoiled the moment--and, well, a lot more subsequent moments--by declaring Eirdenos part of his new empire by right of superior arms and numbers. The real kick to the gut came when he addressed Gustav directly: "Gustav, my faithful servant, where is this corrupt leader you spoke of? The one who owes the debt of justice and should be deposed?"

Hanril looked murder at Gustav. Hells, I think we all looked murder at Gustav. Personally I could have axed him myself in that moment. Thence came backpedalling and shouted threats and posturing from all sides and I joined in, on Hanril's defence--and now that I think on it, came very close to dying in those minutes. The rune on my face makes me do strange things nowadays, underwhich heading I think "a shouting match with a dragon" falls nicely. When Hanril's life came up as forfiet for whatever Gustav had told Tetrathalichandar about him, Hanril accepted a duel with the dragon--but then Gustav offered to champion the dragon, I think hoping to soften the blows and maybe let Hanril live...Hanril charged at him in utter rage. I did not fear in the least for either of them; Hanril's got age, wits and treachery where Gustav has youth, speed and blasted good luck. I fell into owl shape and was flying for the dragon almost before I thought on it.

I tried everything I could--cajoling, appealing, logic--but I've never been good at talking with people, let alone dragons, and Tetrathalichandar would hear nothing of renouncing his claim on the city. Now I suppose I never thought he would; his dracha are too powerful and the Eirdenean militia was beaten and exhausted after the day's battle. I didn't want anyone else to die (well, except in those moments, Gustav--painfully and horribly). In the end, I begged for Hanril's life--and was told to beg Gustav instead, for "death is the way of empires". In that moment Hanril yielded to Gustav.

Tetrathalichandar looked at me for a moment as I stared at them below, wishing he'd blast me or them or all of us for the shame of our part in his takeover. "Sachea, your dissenting voice will serve me well," he said. I wished for a fist big enough to hit him with. "I will have you serve as an advisor to me here in Eirdenos."

"You will have my voice when and if I return to this city," I told him, not daring to say more. The dragon took that as grateful acceptance and to my shame, I let him. I could feel the rune on my face burning to lash out at him, but I knew I didn't have enough power--not yet. Someday I will...and that will be the day I return to Eirdenos.

Coming soon: Sachea's backstory. I promise it won't be that interesting.

Tue, 21 Feb 2006 04:56:50 GMT

I really, really want to play this week.

Jus' sayin'.

Since it's been so long, I'm going to make this OOC so I can get the general sense of everything and because I can't really remember the details.

Eventually the group got the giant, the faen, and the glass statue of Sobenn loaded into the wagon and started down the road. For the first few hours it was relatively uneventful; Sachea drove and eavesdropped on the conversations Belratha and Jal'nem were having in the back of the wagon until something the giant said made her make a sardonic comment. Feldwin rode on top of the wagon; Jarvik and Gustav and Avara rode alongside and, of course, Sobenn was wrapped in the back in packing blankets.

About thirty miles outside of Eirdenos, the sky started to darken. Like, thunderstorm-on-the-run-from-a-tornado darken. Feldwin and Gustav ((I think)) noticed a red mist seeping up from the ground and centering around the wagon; inside with Sobenn, Belratha also noticed the mist gathering around the glass akashik's magic items. With the gathering storm and the accompanying panic, Sachea lashed the horses into a gallop, hoping the city gates would mean safety. After a moment of running, though, the red mist solidified into a scorpion-monster thingie that landed on top of the wagon and conjured an ice wall right across the road. There was no way the wagon would stop in time, so Sachea used Handle Animal and a Hero Point to pull kind of a medieval donut: the horses turned clear of the wall; the traces and harness all snapped, and the wagon overturned but didn't crash into the ice wall. The horses bolted. Sachea and Feldwin were thrown from the wagon; Belratha, Jal'nem, Sobenn and the faen inside were all thrown around a lot but no one was seriously injured (unless you count Sobenn's arm breaking off, but Feldwin was able to mend that later).

The scorpion-ice-mage wasn't easy to beat, but eventually it took enough hits to dissolve back into the red mist. The sky started clearing again, and the group was trying to figure out how to get everything the last thirty miles to Eirdenos when Tetrathalichandar descended from the heavens. The dragon explained that he'd been attacked by some more of the red-mist creatures, and the resulting conversation had most of the group scuffing the dirt and avoiding looking at him when it turned out that he knew they'd helped to release the creatures. He turned Sobenn back from glass (after Feldwin reattached his arm) and made casual mention of some trouble he was having in Thunderbrook. Seems not all of the townfolk wanted to swear to him, especially after he'd used a tenebrian seed on Zachias (and Sachea's reaction to this news gained me another XP chip).

Gustav cut a switch from the trees and made Jal'nem jog most of the way back to Eirdenos.

The captives delivered safely into the hands of the Eirdenean lawkeepers, the group split off for a bit. Sachea and Avara went wenching most nights. Gustav found out that Jal'nem was let go by Hanril Tanner and refursed to help the Eirdenean militia fight off any more bandits. Sachea wanted to make a trek to the Floating Forest to see home again, but there wasn't enough time.

And I think that's where we ended. And I also think I'm nearing 8th or 9th now.

BILL! LOOK HERE!

Wed, 11 Jan 2006 16:56:58 GMT

Ooooh! OOooh! Idea! Hows about we try to play Monday because it's not a school day and lots of places should be closed and hey--Alex will be in town!!

Please?

Wed, 21 Dec 2005 17:51:23 GMT

C.r.o.w.d.e.d., OMG. Jen and Allison both came in with new characters this week (Ivara and Kavara, I think, and if I'm wrong it's because I'm thinking Avada Kedavra about them); the usual suspects were there (I had to pick up Wraith, Skorr, and Nils), and so much tried to happen, which just made the nine people in the living room seem like a hundred more. Plus Nils came to watch, and after this week decided that there were a lot of people in the living room even without him being there, so I don't think he'll be joining us next semester. He says thanks anyways, Bill.

Our first bit of colossal stupidity--one that I should have recognized and beaten out of everyone--was that we stood in the middle of the road, all of us, loudly discussing our plans for taking the inn. Of course Gustav, Belratha, and the new mercenaries Hanril Tanner had sent--an unfettered and a mageblade--wanted to firebomb and force the door and take everyone by storm. For once Jarvik was on my side, and Feldwin too, for sending Feldwin and maybe Sobenn (with his disguise-hat) ahead to be invisible on the cieling or in a corner, finding out plans before trying to capture the faen and the giant. Of course while we discussed, the very faen we were sent to kidnap and her guards come a-riding down the road; a few of us scattered into the woods, but they definately took note of the claw-handed man, the women wearing armor, and the twelve-foot bone-clad litorian standing amidst the road having an argument.

Once they'd passed we finally agreed that Feldwin and Jarvik would go ahead; I would fly follow, and the rest would come along at their leisure, trying to act as though the eight of us hadn't been having an argument an hour up the road from the inn. Feldwin was already inside, and Jarvik nowhere to be seen, when I landed on the roof of the inn. The sibeccai guards were in the stableyard; I forget how big of an owl my natural shape is now, but evidently a three-cubit owl will feed two sibeccai, because they started aiming arrows at me. I've got to remember to be smaller next time I change.

Some time passed--an hour, maybe more--and I couldn't really make out what was going on inside the inn; I hoped Feldwin was situated to advantage...or at least not found out...and that he wouldn't lose the hold on his invisibility before he learned what we needed. I was trying to figure out some way to slip inside, still an owl, when there was a commotion out front. From the roof I could see Gustav, Belratha and Sobenn arguing with one of the guards at the door. Had I hands, I'd've wrung their necks; at the very least I wanted to drop a load on their heads--but again, a three-cubit-tall owl is conspicuous in these parts. Then the damned fools walked around to the stableyard, complaining that they just wanted food. Oh gods, if I believed in any, I'd've asked for savior from airheaded men. Of course the guards in the yard took offense to our pigheaded Champion demanding that one of them fix him a sandwich.

I will say this for Jarvik--for a twelve-foot-tall bone-clad hulk of catgut, he moves quiet enough. The one guard didn't see him until there was a great lump of litorian breathing over his shoulder.

I dropped into the yard once the fighting started and picked off a guard or two with my bow, trying to see what was going on inside. I knew there was a commotion--the mercenary-women were at the front door by then--but I'd no idea if anyone inside was doing what they should've. Or if anyone knew what was going on outside. Or if antyhing was going according to plan. Plan? What plan?

What colossal fools we are. At least Rhi'Motan could blame his size. I have no excuse, except that I'm matched with six or seven who are as headstrong and foolish as I might be cautious.

In the end the inkeep and his family were safe in the kitchen, and all but the giant's guard were dead. Apparently the faen was invisible like Feldwin, only better at it; Jarvik, the mercenaries, and Feldwin went out to search the outside for her. Gustav and Belratha tried a few threats to the giant, but three hundred stone of giant isn't likely to intimidate easily, especially when protected by some rock-clawed thing. I decided to take my own charge: I persuaded Gustav to help me hitch the giant's wagon, then escorted his lordship outside, as though we were letting him go (really, how were we going to hold him there?). Belratha, apparently, had sold his sword to the giant already, a fact which made Gustav so angry he simply saddled a horse and rode off. (Only then did I notice he was belly-cut, but he left....)

The giant mounted his wagon as Jarvik, Feldwin and the mercenaries came back. His remaining sibeccai took the reins, and I whispered to the horses as he gee'd them on--so that the traces I'd cut snapped right off as they bolted from the yard. The sibeccai was dragged a while but let go in time for me to put a pair of arrows in his back and then cut his spine. Jarvik, enraged that the giant might be getting away, attacked his rock-lobster thing, and oddly enough, beat it: so now the giant was at our mercy. I hitched a fresh pair of horses to the wagon (ours, by the way) as Gustav rode back up, a little paler, but just as angry as before. That was when he saw we had both the giant and the faen in custody and ready to return to Eirdenos. I was all set to congratulate myself on getting the ball rolling, as it were, when someone pointed out that Sobenn had been turned to glass outside one of the inn's windows.

Colossal fools, the lot of us.

...and I didn't get to use dimensional door. But level the eighth, shacking goo!

PS. I played D&D with my friends here this week. (They keep an NCP--a mute, Tobor-like dwarf called Bardek with an amazing amount of HP--for me when I'm in town) Gotta say, I like our game a little better. ;)

Quickness

Tue, 29 Nov 2005 20:18:56 GMT

OOC:

The group ran into Tetrathalichandar on the way back to Eirdenos, still under the influence that everyone was falling all over themselves to serve him. Sachea never says much when the dragon's around, so she hasn't gotten the chance to correct His Huge Egoness on that point. While talking to him, there was a small earthquake and the red laser from Akandra's lair busted out of the ground and up into the sky. (Whoops. Unfinished business.) Tetrathalichandar took the tenebrian seed from Gustav and flew off to investigate and the group continued to Eirdenos.

Meeting with Hanril Tanner, and lots of money exchanged; another assignment came up. Seems there's a mafia deal in Eirdenos and one informant was going to be at a certain inn to meet another informant a few nights from...then. The counting of the days took us a while. And then a while longer. Long story short, Hanril Tanner wants the group to apprehend informant #1 (a loresong faen) and/or #2 (a merchant giant) for questioning. Thence followed another fifteen minutes of figuring out when everyone wanted to leave the city. (We need calendars, Bill)

Everyone else went shopping (good times); Sachea upped her chain shirt to +2 and left the city for the inn, not telling anyone else. She stayed a night at the inn, scopin' the place out (now that I think on it, I want to redo the conversation with the innkeeper because damn, Sachea could be so much more clever than that), then got kicked out for the giant merchant's whimsy to have the inn to himself, so she doubled back on the road to wait for the others and tell them what she found out.

Back in Eirdenos, two drinking contests led to Jarvik and Gustav destroying a tavern and Sobenn and Belratha stealing lots of money from people. Feldwin and Ness, so far as I know, just got themselves wasted (Feldwin) and disdaifully tipsy (Ness). Two days later (the morning after the giant commandeered the inn) they stumbled down the road to meet Sachea.

As level 7 (just a few XP away) Sachea will be able to do a feat called Dimensional Door. I love this runechild thing.

Thu, 10 Nov 2005 20:39:54 GMT

I am going to storyboard these, I swear. And they will be pretty and all that...but in the meantime, I'll just keep saying what happeend.

With Feldwin, Sobenn, and Tobor hanging on to Gustav (so I could get something of a head start), I changed form and flew--white flag courtesy of Feldwin--over the siege and the town walls into Thunderbrook. As I was landing, making friendly noises to attract friendly attention--I saw Zachias and a few others standing by a communal bonfire and a cluster of distressingly familiar statues. (And I'd worried that they wouldn't remember us....) Returning to my form, I asked who was in charge.

Zachias stepped up. By the firelight I could tell he couldnt' quite place where he'd seen me before (the statue didn't have my new tattoo) and I was glad of it; but I explained as quickly as possible that Gustav and the others were planning to at least wound the siege on their way to the gate. I was starting to ask other questions--how the rhodin were supplied, what the causualties had been till now--when there were two huge, almost simultaneous explosions outside the gates. "Here they come!" I said, and ran to the wall to give them cover fire.

None of the villagers on the walls had a bow near as powerful as Farseer, so at the distances my companions stayed from the walls I was the only one making contact. Feldwin and Sobenn's firebursts had incenerated most of the rhodin in one of the camps, so the four of them--five, once I saw that someone from the village had joined my companions--charged into the adjoining rhodin camp and, well... Gustav was in a killing mood, and no one has ever gotten in Tobor's way when he gets it in his head to swing what's in his hands (tonight it was a greatsword, swung like a club: awkward, but effective nonetheless). The newcomer looked to have a few fancy tricks of his own, as well as clawed gloves on his hands.

I followed their progress along the walls as they fought their way through the rhodin camps, shooting when I had a clear shot, sometines missing, but mostly hitting where I aimed. At one point I sent Cai out to bother a particular skurg, but he's not big enough or enough of a fighter to do much damage.

At some point, at last, they ran out of rhodin to fight. I'd seen one, a mage of sorts, hie back towards the old castle; but other than that, I saw Gustav, Tobor, and their new friend standing amidst a lot of dead rhodin. Bo had been killed; Sobenn somehow made it into the village at the outset and (as Zachias told me later) found a bed to fall asleep in. When my companions trudged through the gate, I turned rather sheepishly to Zachias. "I think, sir, that your siege is over." He just looked at me.

Thunderbrook opened its doors to us. The next morning, fully rested, Feldwin and I went to see Elara, who'd suffered losses of magic as well as bodily harm when she'd rushed out of the gates to help their little militia. Just as I'd remembered her, Elara thanked Feldwin brusquely and then refused his help to seeing to the wounded of Thunderbrook. Zachias swore that he owed the life of the town to us, he being the headman after Lord Aenar was killed.

That brought up a delicate point. Aenar had been killed before the message could have been sent--so Elara said, and Zachias seconded. Sobenn, Gustav, our new friend Belratha, and I made the day's trek to the castle where the mage-rhodin had fled to but we found nothing--as though they'd cleaned out and hied away the night before. Sobenn picked up an arrow with a strange substance on the end that he couldn't read: dragonsbane, said Belratha, and I was inclined to agree. The message, then, must've been meant for Tetrathalichandar as a trap, and as young and colossolly arrogant as he was, he'd've flown right into it.

Speaking of, the dragon landed--Jarvik in tow--soon after we returned to the town. It seemed that His Inflated Greatness, hearing of how the five of us broke the siege, grandly swept all of us (myself, Belratha, Feldwin, and Jarvik included) under the heading of his 'retainers" (but I'll be damned if I stay that way, or name myself as such)--and Zachias, hearing this, knealt to him and declared the town of Thunderbrook to be under Tetrathalichandar's sway in gratitude for what we'd done.

Since awaking as runechild, I'm finding myself feeling more deeply things that oughtn't have affected me so--and as the town lined up to pay their respects to their new dragon overlord, I found myself enraged that Tetrathalichandar should so reap liegemen from our fight. I know he had plans for Eirdenos, and now Thunderbrook--but I'll be damned if I'm a herald for a self-important dragon overlord, or any overlord at all. The adventures we have as companions are due to our reputation and for promise of cash; Zachias, Ralas, the dragon, nor any other overlord will have my obedience.

I will appreciate Tetrathalichandar for this, though: he helped Jarvik with his tenebrian seed-ceremony, and lifted a curse from Gustav that he'd picked up on our mad dash to the town. Of course, he's got to care for his retainers, so I won't go further in my appreciation than that.

Fri, 04 Nov 2005 18:18:50 GMT

I promise I'll put up last week's session soon, but HEY BILL--I seriously want to storyboard some of these things, comic-book style. Any chance that if I do do that, I could give them to you and you put them up on your photo-space-thing?

Tue, 01 Nov 2005 05:42:53 GMT

Life...is a funny thing. The way it kinda gets in the way, stuff like that. This entry is going to be woefully disappointing to those who like the storytelling style Sachea has: I'm only going to outline what happened, just so I'm ready for this week.

I'll ask if Nils can play this week. That'd be fun.

*God of Dark (Akaandra) is dead. Her spell seems half-finished, because there's a laser-thing coming up from the floor. We can't do anything about it.
*Search reveals painful little about the castle, except an undeadifying Rir'tek-na (who begs death, and Gustav kills him), the chlorthak's goblet (missing pieces), a room filled with purple light and books (Jarvik explores), and a room filled with what smells like (ooc) methane.
*Chlorthak's goblet is smashed. Of what little loot there is, I make off with an ivory harp.
*Jarvik explores the purple-light library (hee hee) and tosses out a few books. Sorlir shows up, calls us Gods. We go with it for the time being.
*The methane room is full of gold egg-things, one of which Jarvik breaks, releasing a monster. We smash it and agree to leave the other things alone.
*Sorlir promises we'll be the ones sacrificed to from now on. We change his mind to 1. killing the God of the Lake and 2. accepting Rir'tek-na's charges back into the village.
*Back aboveground, we see a tree with a man wrapped in it. The man is dead, but carries a message for Tetrathalichandar (ha! got it in one!) that Thunderbrook (the village where we found the black crown) is under seige by rhodin.
*Gustav takes off to play hero
*Feldwin, Sobenn and I take off after Gustav to Thunderbrook; Jarvik takes the message to Tetrathalichandar.
*We get chased through the woods by a Nevin's Curse, which touches Gustav despite my entreaties for him to leave it alone.
*Arriving above Thunderbrook, we can see the village surrounded by rhodin. Gustav is all for charging in and taking out a camp by himself, but even he has to rest; we form a plan in which I'll fly in, warn the villagers we're coming, possibly brining the dragon, and then provide cover fire as Gustav, Feldwin, and Sobenn smite and burn some bitches in a mad dash to the village gate.

Thu, 13 Oct 2005 20:43:11 GMT

Yay for finally getting to play again. I miss this on the weeks we don't do it. Our big group has been whittled down; we no longer have Alex/Ri'Mothan, Allison/Alena, Brian/Reil, or Rachel/Ness. As of tonight, we also lost someone else...

We shuffled out of the chlorthak village with thirty or so of them lurching in front of us. Gustav, still with the pottery chip, managed to order them to not attack any of us. No idea how long that command would last.

When we reached the God of Dark's cavern again, Feldwin noticed the rift was opening again. In the interest of attracting the Godling out of his fortress he healed it again, though it wasn't to the extent he'd had to expend earlier. Still, no sign of the God of Dark.

The God's fortress sat atop a nearly-sheer cliff that no matter how Gustav commanded them, the chlorthak could not climb up, so we were forced to leave them at the bottom and approach the castle ourselves. Feldwin flew up to a tower to investigate, returning with little news. Apparently the castle was nigh deserted; still, even at our approach, there was no sign of the spider-taur I'd spotted the last time we were in the cavern. (Irturu offered to go up to the door and knock. I was inclined to let him).

Jarvik, Sobenn and Feldwin began to complain of headaches from the purplish light permeating the cavern. The new way of looking that this face-rune has given me prevented the headache, but in order to do that, I could see only in black and white.--At least I could see.

We marched into the primary tower of the fortress with no challenge. Down a flight of stairs was a second, larger chamber. In the middle of the chamber was a circle of tor stones, about ten feet high, that stopped a few feet from the cieling; in the middle of this circle was an achingly violet pillar of light that seemed to emenate from the center of the cieling.

The rest of the group filtered into the larger chamber, but these new instincts I suddenly have screamed at me, and so I hung back in the antechamber. Gladly, too: a voice came at us from above, sounding female, demanding to know what we were doing in her castle. The others began to circle, trying to find a vantage point or a hiding place; I hugged the doorway across from Tobor and Sobenn and tried to figure out where the voice was coming from.

Gustav found out first. He Casti-Blasted (c) up towards the cieling, apparently hitting something--and suddenly there was a blinding blast, witch-wall across the large chamber, and a spider-taur in the center of the tor circle. The wall was high enough to keep the others out, but from the top of the staircase I could just get a bead on her head: I fired once or twice, scoring a couple of what couldn't have been more than annoyances to her, before she disappeared again--presumably into the cieling.

She shouted down again, saying we had no place there (and I was disinclined to argue) and demanding blood. Whose blood? We asked, and she said, the unfettered reborn.

Every head in our chamber swiveled towards Tobor.

Irturu stepped into the center of the purple light, shouting that he knew where to find the unfettered and that she should bring him up. She did, him still blind from the purple explosion (without my new vision, I was as blind as Cai in full daylight) ...and the next sounds we heard were those like something being bitten and sliced. Like an animal eating...or a verrik being eaten. Still, we heard them talking.

Whatever Irturu said, the spider-taur appeared again, this time seeking something: Tobor, apparently. This time I came out from my hiding-place, firing when I could get a bead on her and getting angrier all the time: for this thing the faen-children were dying, Rir-tek'na had died, and like as not someone else was going to die in fighting her....and Irturu was helping! She disappeared again of a sudden and without thinking I changed and flew up into the cieling, knowing someone else would be as angry as I and wiling to take her on in her chamber. Sure enough, Gustav clambered up, but not before I heard Irturu telling the spidertaur where Tobor was. Before I left the room again, I saw him float himself out a window.

Bastard.

Bellowing something appropriate, I dropped out of the air and Gustav charged at her from the hole in the floor. I with my axes and he with a sword did a little damage before she dropped down again, and both of us were so determined to kill her that we simply dropped out of the hole after her, rolling off the witch-wall and landing safely around her. She'd gotten her claws on Tobor, but when she started to incant a spell with his blood and her guard was down--we killed her. Or rather, I knocked her out and Gustav killed her. Either way--she was finally dead.

Outside, after Sorlir had healed us, Feldwin and I found Irturu's body. He hadn't just cut off his senses, he'd died: apparently the soft-fall spell hadn't worked as well as he'd hoped. She'd cut him badly, too, but I couldn't quite bring myself to feel sorry for him. I took a few warspells off him and some gold; Feldwin took the healing staff and ice staff. There was a ring he wore that Sobenn took, but nothing more that we hadn't known about.

Now the inclination amongst the others is to kill the god of water. My desire--stronger since Rir'tek-na's death--is to see to the future of the faen children. Only a little less driving than that is the need to get out of these damned tunnels and into the sunlight again. I want to explore these new rune-brought skills I'm discovering, and fly in moving air again. But I have to see to these children first.

Wraith: Wait, you mean we're still underground??

Thu, 22 Sep 2005 18:23:46 GMT

No game last night...le sad. I'm not going to go ape like Zane did and yell at those who missed, but...I was really looking forward to playing last night, especially with some of the news that's been going around. But! Bill came over, and he and Brad and I had fried chicken. Man, I make some good fried chicken. Good gravy, too.

Thu, 08 Sep 2005 18:44:07 GMT

Last night's session was just...kind of wierd. It wasn't bad, per se, even though it was just Mike/Irturu, Brian/Sobenn, Skorr/Brad/Gustav, and I--meaning half the group was gone. I think I kept dozing off, and we had to kind of do a wierd little "and then you guys do...something..."-dance around Jarvik and Gustav's fistfight, but it turned out to be kind of convenient because Feldwin and Jarvik got to go off and sulk for most of the game. Turns out little gods are hard to deal with when there're only four of us, and two have the tendancy to run away...
The two champions pushed each other around a few times; Jarvik tried to bite Gustav, and they had a rather anticlimactic pat-fest--and then Jarvik, in full offended-cat form, stalked off out of the cavern to sulk. Ness ran after him (presumably to keep an eye on him) and as we turned back to the chasm, Irturu climbed back out.

I drew one of my axes and held it in a completely unthreatening manner before asking the verrik what the hell he'd done in going into the Dark chasm. He shrugged--nothing, he said, just wanted to look and see what was in the chasm. All my questions met the same answer: he'd done nothing, dropped nothing, seen only what looked like the cross-section of a grave on the way up and down. Gustav still looked murderous.

Feldwin interrupted, saying he wanted to try to heal the rift that let the Dark energy through. He poured all his energy and spells into it, saying it was getting better and better...but he ran out of power before it was done. Irturu and Sobenn didn't want to lose their spells to it when Feldwin (our strongest healer) was himself out of commission.

Gustav and I noticed the wing noises at the same time: it were our little friend Chi'clir, and we all started taking shots at him (and he at us). Gustav's new power, which he calls Blast of Castigation and I call Burst of Wrist-Slapping , kept Chi'clir busy while my arrows failed to do much damage and Sobenn...well, Sobenn pulled out a neat little trick that somehow resulted in Chi'clir exploding from the inside. In flames, no less. ((OOC: Bill, in my mind the underground-faen look a lot like your skipping "Hello Cthulu" icon))

Almost as soon as Chi'clir was ...well, little charred bits, Irturu gave in and agreed to help heal the rest of the rift. With his wand he burnt himself nearly dry, but the Dark rift closed--and something burst out of the Tor stones across the cavern. It was black and legged, and Rir'tek-na, the runechild, told us all to run, sneak into the palace of the god of dark, while he took it on. And he lit off to intercept it.

The animals--Cai, Bo, and the wolf--all fled back to the mouth of the cavern, and I felt a very strong desire to take shape and fly after them...but Irturu and Sobenn did that for me, leaving Gustav and myself standing (rather stupidly) around the charred corpse of the underground-undead-faen.

The next thing felt like a boulder exploded in front of us. I blacked out for a second, and was barely able to stand when I came to, but our decision had been made for us, so Gustav plopped the remainder of the faen in his gunna-sack and we limped off after the animals, Irturu and Sobenn. When we reached the cavern mouth Sobenn used Irturu's staff to heal us both a little. We all agreed that Rir'tek-na probably wasn't going to make it back, so Feldwin and Jarvik (who was still sulking) and Ness elected to go back to his cave and see to the children. It's a mark of how angry Jarvik still was at Gustav that he chose to stay around faen children rather than travel with the rest of us.

We three limped, and walked, and limped, and....something familiar squished behind us. Two of the acid-zombies were approaching.

Great.

Irturu ran back for the faen caves and Sobenn tried to follow, but he couldn't see...but the acid zombies stopped about ten feet from Gustav and me. For about a minute we all just stared at one another: Gustav and I were far too tired and injured to fight them, and they were....well, acid zombies. Sobenn tried to come around to stand with us, but the zombies cut him off: likewise when I moved away from Gustav they took an unenviable interest in my movements. There was something Gustav had, likely something carried with the faen's body, that caught their attention so.

On a whim Gustav decided to go back to the chlorthak village (and Sobenn and I, hostages to his personal bubble, had to follow) and the greeting he recieved there was, well, eerie. The chlorthak clustered around the entrance to the cave (as far in as we'd dare go), all of them, like they were greeting a messiah--only none of them spoke, none of them moved, they just stared eyelessly at him and squelched and oozed their acid onto the floor.

After a time, (during which he promised them he'd break their curse) Gustav (and we, his unwilling vassals) headed back to the faen village. None of the acid zombies followed us.

Sorlir met us at the entrance, where we also found a sleeping Irturu. Sorlir had used some kind of spell of Tongues, and seeing that we indeed had the corpse of Chi'clir in Gustav's gunna-sack, offered his help (at last) in the killing of the God of Dark. Gustav had discovered an odd little piece of pottery in the undead faen's things, and so he and Irturu and Sobenn spent a while trying to make it reveal its nature--at least I assume they did; I was hurt and tired and simply fell asleep in the entryway. A good sleep and a meal did wonders: I was nearly restored when I awoke. The speculation was that the little ceramic bit was what controlled the chlorthak, and so we headed back (again, in a tight circle around Gustav) to their village to see if we might command them.

Litorian, surface-faen, human, verrik and sibeccai commands did nothing to move them, until Sorlir tried underground-faen commands on the chlorthak: then they moved to his words, so long as he held the chip of pottery. Sobenn and I memorized a few commands (my memory comes in handy now and then) and the general consensus was that we were going to try to use the chlorthak against the God of Dark.

I hoped that would tip the scales enough in our favor: I very much do not want to die underground, but now that Rir'tek-na is most certainly dead, I fear for his faen charges. Of course we can't leave them in Jarvik's charge forever (funny as that would be), and there is the possibility that the death of the God of Dark and the God of Forest would turn the faen Queen's mind about making them sacrifices again--then again, it might not. They cannot fend for themselves without Rir'tek-na, that much is for sure, and I, for one, don't believe they could make it on the surface with us. I also get the sneaking suspicion that no matter how many of these small gods we kill, it won't change the faens' belief that these children should have died. Had I never left the village near the Floating Forest, I can't believe I'd ever be having these concerns, especially for these sightless, clicking youngsters--my own siblings didn't (and still don't) evoke half as much sympathy from me. Something also tells me that this is just the shoreline of some great sea of change, but as always--that remains to be seen.

Level the sixth and suddenly I have to find Sachea a tattoo....w00t!

Fri, 02 Sep 2005 03:47:47 GMT

We've been in the tunnels now for three weeks. Even though I'm not terribly claustrophobic, and I doubt Sachea is, I'm ready to get back on the path and get out of underground. Wraith/Jarvik was missing the first week, but we got Rachel/Ness (a wolf totem warrior with a companion horse); Alison/Alena was gone the second. Feldwin (our greenbond) spoke to the sightless faen a while longer, asking them questions we put to him about their ways, the other creatures in the cave, and the verrik-scribed altar we'd found near the lake. Finally Sorlir, the seeming spokes-faen for the tribe, grudgingly agreed to try to get their queen to see us. From what Feldwin had told us, the queen was to be the next in a long line of sacrifices to the God of the Lake: from each sacrificed queen there came a king, and from each king a queen, and so on and on for as long a time as he could gather from Sorlir. Time was something they didn't share an understanding of, which made sense to me--after all, these creatures had no idea what the sun or moon was; how could they grasp anything like day or night? The queen turned out to be a tiny faen child of about ten. I was shocked--that a tribe of so many seemingly healthy adults could even think of tying a ten-year-old girlchild to an altar, to be eaten by that lake-monster! The queen herself was arrogant, awkward and formulaic: a child, of course, playing dress-up. She said we could expect the help of her people only if we killed the God of Dark, or stopped the digger-men, or killed the God of the Forest. Killing the God of Dark was our unformed plan to begin with, and we'd killed digger-men already, and so amongst us we agreed that we probably couldn't count on the help of the sightless faen. We took our leave of them. Outside of their cavern, Irturu and Gustav got it into their heads that the verrik-altar needed to go in the lake. I've no idea why they thought this, but with Tobor's help they picked the thing up and carried it to the waterside...and of course, the minute he stepped into the shallows, Irturu was once again attacked by the God of the Lake. (You'd think that verrik, being such big-picture types, would learn from something like the last time. You'd think so, but I guess you'd be wrong.) The others dropped the altar (on one of Gustav's huge feet) and we set to attacking the monster; I lit an arrow and sent it off into the water after it, once the God of Lake decided Irturu still wasn't a tasty enough treat (you'd think he'd've learned too....). After we'd beaten that off and had Irturu healed (...again...) someone noticed that the ground was shaking, in that familiar, there-are-mole-men-digging-towards-you way. Off in a side tunnel we found them, paired with our undead-flying-spryte acquaintance from before. Cai lit off after him down the tunnel and so did I, taking owl shape (which is getting easier as I practice it) and flying as fast as I could. We kept up with him for a little while, but I'm still a human in owl form when it comes to distance and sprinting: my wings couldn't carry me into his lair. Ness, the wolf-totem who'd joined us just as we breached the tunnels, followed us too, but not as far. (OOC: I think this is next week) When we rejoined the others I told them the spryte had gone down the tunnel Sorlir had said belonged to the God of Dark. We stopped back at the faen caves to rest again for (what felt to us like) the night, then set off to the caves I'd seen the undead fly to. Jarvik was plenty keen to get at the spryte and do whatever it is Jarvik is supposed to do to the undead, but the caves were still a goodly hike across the main cavern. Down yet more tunnels and past a few more acid-zombies we came upon a very, very interesting scene: a village, wandered full of acid-zombies as though it were some normal hearth-and-home town--although they lacked a central fire, their cottages were made of stone, and they had no tasks to actually go about doing. All they did was wander in and out of the stone huts as though sleepwalking. As I was near the front of the party, I didn't know something had latched onto Irturu (they seem to like him down here. I wonder what it would take to get him to stay...permanently?) and was pulling him out of the cave until Feldwin grabbed my sleeve and pulled me backwards. Back in the main cavern we were suddenly interrogated by our 'rescuer', a runechild spryte whose first questions were along the lines of, "How stupid can so many people be?" Feldwin tried to explain that we were trying to stop the acid-zombies, but the runechild told him that we weren't close to the source of their curse: to stop them, we would, of course, have to kill the God of Dark. Away from the faen caverns, the runechild spryte ()again, can't remember his name...() took us to his cavern, where--true to his noble calling as a runechild--he was keeping the last few children the faen had tried to sacrifice to the God of Dark and of Forest. They screamed when we entered; can you blame them? Their own people deem them fit to be tied to an altar for a water-snake or a giant insect to eat; I asked the runechild (through Feldwin) what he'd do with them. He only shrugged and said, "Teach them to fight, to live alone. It is all I can do." I admire his conviction, even if I know he's fighting a losing battle with half those children. They've been taught for generations that they'd have to sacrifice themselves or their fellows to keep the greater group safe--that's not something even a kind runechild can change in so many so quickly. The runechild said he'd help us kill the God of Dark if we helped him kill the God of Forest. Frankly, he didn't think we'd outlast what sounded like a giant spider in the mushroom-forest, but if we did, I know he'd be impressed enough to do his all to help us against the God of Dark. Through the mushroom forest he led us, to the altar where he'd rescued half of the children. Suddenly Sobenn, Feldwin and the runechild were entangled in some kind of hard, sticky web and there was a giant spider looming down over us. Someone threw fire at it; by the way it reacted, it was neither smart, nor used to its free meals fighting back. I got in two good shots (Cai was nowhere to be seen, but I don't really blame him) and Gustav hit it a couple good times, too. For a giant spider, it wasn't as difficult as I think it might have been to kill (of course, that didn't stop me from having the shivering heebie-jeebies when the damn thing was finally dead). The corpse was heaved onto the altar and the runechild, finally free, led us along the tunnels to where the God of Dark supposedly dwelt. The tunnels down here seem to last forever, but finally we came to an open cavern, the oddest one yet. It looked as though someone had simply taken a slice of aboveground and put it in a convenient cave: there were trees, and hillocks, and even something dim that almost approximated sunlight. At one end of the cavern was a six-towered fortress; near the middle was a chasm that even I could tell was leaking Dark, even as the giants' tower had held Green. Closer to the chasm, Feldwin said he thought he could heal the rift in the ground--but before he did, Irturu was suddenly flinging a rope over the edge and climbing down. Need I say I wasn't concerned? Good. Gustav dove for the rope and Jarvik pulled him off, and the pair of them started fighting; I tried to get between them, or at least pull them apart long enough for them to consider not killing each other in the presence of so much Dark energy. Gustav was white-faced and honor-driven to get Irturu out of there, even though no one (except Jarvik) seemed to know what he was doing; Jarvik wanted to give him the chance to do...whatever it was...and come up on his own. Feldwin was yelling at him to climb back out so he (Feldwin) could heal the rift; Ness was no where to be seen, and Sobenn, Tobor and Bo were just kind of standing there, watching. ()and that's where we stopped.()

Wed, 17 Aug 2005 03:12:15 GMT

Today we are updating in Rich Text Mode because Livejournal won't let me download two clients for on computer, nor will it let me update two accounts from one client.

Hanyways, I thouroughly enjoyed coming back to B/N last week--never mind that I left my stat sheets in St. Paul (although I found my dice bag hiding in a pair of pants) and had to have Mom read me some of Sachea's stats over the phone. Illian/Josh joined in this week (I'm sorry, but I can't remember his character's name) and we were missing Sobenn/Brian and Jarvik/Wraith. That being said, though--

After delivering our report--to be delivered to Hanril Tanner (OOC: is that the Eirdenian headman's name?), most of us headed into the Market Sector to kill some time until he summoned us again. There was a disturbance of some kind near the end of the high street: a kind of mob had formed, and no one around was doing anything to dispel it. Irturu, of course, was no help as soon as he got close enough to see--there were big wings in the center, and the damn verrik finds the nearest unattended fruit stall and starts picking out apples and things to throw.

There was a dracha in the middle of the crowd, trying his level best to ignore the ugliness swelling around him. I shouldered my way through the crowd with my axes out and as soon as they got wind that there were real weapons, not just underripe fruit, most of them settled down and moved off. The dracha--one of Tetrathalichandar's men--thanked us (oh, Gustav was there too) for getting him room to take off and proceeded to do so. Thus ended our excitement for the day.

The next morning Hanril Tanner called on us again. Our new mission, he said, was to find the source of the acid zombies in the tunnels and either report back or, if we thought we could handle it, eliminate the source. Since Ri-Motan wouldn't be coming with us, he introduced us to our new companion: a greenbond spryte named (help me out here). He seemed a nice enough fellow, if a little serious.

Down we headed, to what would become miles and miles of tunnel. A cave-creature almost got the jump on us once, but our little friend saw it before it could land on any of us--except him. A few blows later, though, it was dead, and the spryte none the worse for getting an up-close-and-personal of its nether reigons.

Irturu, for some reason, took it's head. (I've stopped trying to understand the verrik. I've decided to save myself time and headache and just outright dislike him instead.)

What seemed like miles later we came to a cavern, perfectly round, as though a bubble in the earth had simply risen in the rock with a tunnel through it. The spryte took one direction, and I (in owl form) took the other, but the cieling proved no more interesting than the floor--especially since the floor held the carcase of a dragon that'd been dead longer than the gods. Our spellcasters spoke of an intensity to the magics in the room, centered on a plain marble plinth in the middle, about which the dragon was curled. There we camped for the night.

The next morning (we assumed) we continued on the path that led out of the cavern. Down and down it ran, for yet more miles of mole-man-dug rock, growing more and more damp, until we reached groundwater. The stream seeped into another cavern, this one with a giant lake and some kind of phosphorescent mushroom forest growning on one end. Irturu, in his infinate wisdom, of course decided to go swimming to see what there was to see in the black water.

Go on--guess if something grabbed him. Guess.

All I can say is, he's lucky the greenbond is with us on this journey. After the water-beast tried gnawing off his leg and the spryte healed him, Irutru found a slab of rock inscribed with what looked like poetry--but in verrik.

Of a sudden some of us knew we were being watched. Behind the slab was a tunnel, leading off to more caves. Soon as we entered, it seems, someone spoke a Word of Power, and the floor was covered in webbing that caught everyone except the spryte and Gustav round the ankles and held us. In a heartbeat the room was filled with faen and sprytes, none of whom seemed sighted--but one of whom our greenbond could speak with. There was some exchange, and then what seemed an impromptu ceremony with a great stone die--which evidently ended in our favor, as the well-armed faen didn't immediately kill us.

Through the greenbond we learned that these blind faen lived in the cavern with three other groups: those of forest, water, and 'dark'; these were the followers of the God of the People, and at sacrificial odds with the followers of the other three gods. I had the sneaking suspicion we'd met the God of Water already, thanks to our verrik. The faen spoke of 'hard-skins', 'wet-skins', 'soft-skins (us)' and themselves as The People. The 'wet-skins' turned out to be the acid zombies we were looking for--and suddenly we had a way to find them.

level the fifth! w00t!

Mon, 25 Jul 2005 05:04:14 GMT

I know, I know, I'm missing from this and next week. I'm sorry, especially since it sounds like the Meat Shield (aka Ri'Motan/Alex) is going to die or in some way be honorably discharged from the campaign and moved to St. Louis. I'll miss playing with you, Lysis; all I have to say is that Jarvik/Wraith has to develop a pretty good sense of humor pretty damn fast or I'm going to have Sachea start pieing people to lighten the mood. Champion of Death...Champion of Justice...asshole Verrik...sneaktheif Akashik...and then there's Allison and me. Phoo.

Beyond the room the undead had emerged from was a second set of doors: Soben went to investigate whilst the rest of us took stock and Ri'Motan sat down for a ritual that would undoubtedly advance his *cough*considerable*cough* Warmain status. We heard Soben open the first door; we heard a pair of wet thunks, and we heard Soben scream and fall: no rest for the weary.

Two more undead waited on a platform in a great chamber beyond. Gustav and I entered and there materialized a ... something, that did exactly nothing to us before disappearing. The undead were shooting at Soben still when Jarvik entered. The apparation appeared again and shouted, for all to hear, our Death Champion's Truename. It disappeared, to be replaced by some great witch that commanded Jarvik, by his Truename, to leave the tower. What could he do but obey?

Bo, it seems, does not like witches: while I was prepared to let Gustav, Irturu, and Tobor deal with the undead and take the witch on myself, the bear charged through a door and rather tore her a few new orifices. I don't think she had time to breathe through any before she died; or maybe she did, and that was why.

The undead had been guarding a crystal tree in the centre of the platform. Cai had brought me earlier a branch of the same crystal when I sent him with the command to Explore and Retrieve; having no issue with heights, I climbed the tree and came out into an open-windowed chamber with a woven crystal cieling. In the cieling rested a blue staff of the same material as the branch and tree; Gustav and Jarvik, having followed me up, retrieved it and followed me back down.

Now we went to the lower parts of the fortress, passing a lovely rose garden (another illusion) and a giantish catacombs. Gustav, Jarvik and Soben took it upon themselves to loot the bodies and Ri'Motan (at least a foot taller for having done his ceremony) left the room in protest to see his ancestors defiled. I took neither gunna nor offense at what they did, but then again, I'm not a giant. Nor am I a grave-robber.

The last remarkable thing, before coming the chamber of the Green Pillar and the Black, were three crystal saplings, akin to the tree above. Ri'Motan had no issue stripping the deadfall from them.

Toben and Vena were near enough to me when they spoke their code-words that I could hear and remember both of them. I wonder if Ralas told the Magister Council that I--with my brothers Lissen and Treyu--have an uncanny memory? I am certain he knew, but perhaps he has forgotten; or perhaps he thought I wouldn't care to listen and recall the code-words; or perhaps again, he meant for me to hear and remember for another time. I don't know that any of my companions know what I can do....At any turning, I know the code to open the chamber of the Green Pillar and the Black, and will know it whenever I need to.

The blue staff Jarvik carried was proof against the powers filling the room, and so we--without Ri'Motan, who elected to stand us guard--crabwalked to the source of the Green. The very air around that pillar healed me of my wounds when I but put my hands into it. Walking back with the Cup refilled, Jarvik and Irturu turned tail and sprinted for the Black Pillar as soon as the rest of us were through the door safely. I readied my sling to destroy the staff, with them still in the room, as soon as they were in range; but they claimed they'd "only wanted to see" the other pillar, and Jarvik took Ri'Motan to feel the Green's healing effect before the room closed itself to us.

Soben wiped Toben's memory as soon as the door closed, so that his half of the code was lost. (Not the whole of it, of course, but...) We'd tried all the doors in the castle save one: the door to which we supposed the giantish woman was imprisioned. When finally Jarvik reached her, the only thing she had to tell him was that the blue staff was safe passage into the room--then she disappeared.

What a waste: to be a bound spirit for centuries with that vital information, only to have it not needed upon your discovery and release. I know I'd have words with my god(s) in the afterlife for that one.

And now, I suppose, we return to Eirdenos and deliver the Cup to Ralas. And I suppose there will be reward and gold and gunna, more offers of adventure and excitement, and more chances to build upon our little group's reputation. Hardly tedious, is it? I know Ralas isn't going to have time to speak with me, but I still wish for that opportunity, if only to ask if Auntie is still alive and how fares my family. He probably hasn't been to the village in longer than I've been gone, but still....

I was sent from the tribe to learn my Truename, but seeing what happened to Jarvik, and the fact that the apparition did not shout one to me...To be Unfettered, I think, like Gustav is, may not be the evil my mother thought it to be. An Unfettered Animal Warrior is not unheard of, and that the thing in the chamber did not give one to me--perhaps I don't have a Truename. That is, however, the very closest resemblance I care to have to Gustav. To be any more like him...I'd have to entoumb myself in some old tree and ne'er be seen again. Ugh.

Sat, 23 Jul 2005 15:53:10 GMT

Two in one: first week (wherein I did not update last week) and then the past week. Sachea is getting kind of headstrong against some of her fellow players and kind of submissive towards others...arrg. I don't get 'typical action for your character'-points because Sachea is human and I don't know how to make her a 'typical' owl. If ever she dies (knock knock), I might make my new character a litorian or sibeccai--just to give me a personality prototype to work off of.

It was good to relax in Eirdenos for a few weeks: We'd collected enough gunna to live off of for a while, but at the same time there were jobs here-and-there to keep us busy. Cai and me set up in a loft that wasn't too far gone in a sector of the city near the library. And we waited.

After, I suppose, everyone had spent enough of their collected gold, the Headman called us back to his office for another assignment--and who should walk into the office but old Ralas, Auntie's friend, and the oldest litorian in my tribe...!

He looked confused to see me there, but I suppose he thought I'd turn the task to his advantage: he brought out the healing grail he'd once soundly smote Treyu and Lissen for trying to see in his living-room. The cup was near to empty and needed refilling--something I'd never thought possible. Ralas said it'd been last used a month or so ago, and the look on his face said it's use had been on one I knew.

The Cup had to be refilled, he said, from a pillar of Green in a giant's castle located atop a gassar tree. Suddenly my homesickness eased a bit at the thought of kind-of going home (OOC:thanks, Bill): getting high in the trees again, being off the ground and for once, off horseback. Of course I agreed straightaway to help Ralas, and he gave me a giant brass key to get into the tower wherein the Green resided. Two faen, Toman and Vena, carried with them two halves of a code-word to be spoken when we unlocked the chamber of the Green; Toman didn't talk much to anyone except Alena, but Vena seemed likable enough.

And so we set off. I spent a part of the time (in the saddle again, goo) in meditation: the time had come for me to go to the next part of my training, and later I knew I'd be able to take Cai's form and fly if I did the ceremony right. I did, by the by.

Of course we were attacked as we approached the tower. Reil, reaching the offending chorrim first, was laid out cold, but we took out the others and revived him. I couldn't track the others--there had been at least three other humanoids, besides the three chorrim we killed--much past the tower, but consensus was that to camp inside, with the locked door between them and us, would be preferrable to being out in the open that night. The brass key Ralas had given me unlocked aand locked the door behind us--

And the tower filled with fish. No joke.

To all appearances we stood at the bottom of a deep well or watering hole replete with fish, seaweed, and, well, water. I held my breath for a few seconds (and so did everyone else, by the by, I wasn't the only one fooled) before I realized I wasn't wet and the air was still dry inside the tower. An illusion, then.

Cai and Tobor both spent a good part of the night trying to catch fish. Cai gave up after a while. Tobor...didn't seem to catch on. Ah well, it kept him entertained.

The tower was round, with giantish stairs going all the way up. I counted 453 before we reached the top landing (there wasn't much else to do, after all) (OOC: I did the math, and with a 6"x6" stair, there would be somewhere around 500 at the height you described for the tower. I figured 453 accounts for maybe an 8"x8" or 10"x10". Dork!) where again, I used my key to let us in.

Ri'Motan and Jarvik were the first in and the first to discover the window in the floor. They pointed, started mouthing words at it: apparently a giantish woman floated there, motioning for the heroes amongst us to let her out. The glass would not break, nor would it be pried up.

As soon as I walked into the room the doors opposite opened and a pair of ghouls burst forth: Jarvik had just enough time to yell that we must fight with magic weapons before they attacked. The only magic weapon I carry is Farseer, my bow; I managed to circle round behind them and line up a shot.

I want to say right now that my attention was focused on the ghoul in my sights: I saw it and not beyond, and in hindsight I know that I really should have checked the arrangement of the room before firing a powerful bow like Farseer in a room that small. But in my own defence, after that first shot--really, Ri'Motan should have had the mind to move out of the way.

And it's not like I injured him that deeply. It was just a shot to the arm. Really.

And yes, I apologized. Profusely.

The ghouls took for.ev.er. to dispatch, and what with my hideously bad judgement and Ri'Motan/Alex's refusal to not be a huge, hulking giant target in the middle of a room...that's as far as we got that night.

Bill: Tobor isn't carrying any magical weapons! He swings at the nearest ghoul and misses....Tobor takes another mighty swing, spins around, and almost falls down....Bo has given up but Tobor is still trying to get at the undead....Tobor misses again, and just sits down on the floor to watch you guys go at it.