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Little RP Bites

I love having little interactions like these. I should probably have squeezed @Aeorden a bit more, but I was hankering for lunch :)


Aeorden tells you, "Do you have a moment?"

You tell Aeorden Zaridiux, "Yes."

Aeorden tells you, "I'm a metalworker, and I was wondering if you were interested in getting designs for your shop."

Aeorden tells you, "For weaponry and armour and all that."

You tell Aeorden Zaridiux, "What sort of arrangement are you thinking of?"

Aeorden tells you, "Twenty percent of all the profits, and in return, I provide you with metalworking designs for longswords, broadswords, axes, scimitars, any kind of shield and any kind of armour."

You tell Aeorden Zaridiux, "Are you a reliable man, Zaridiux?

Aeorden tells you, "I am. I have some pieces you could take a look at if you were wondering what kind of quality you'd be buying."

You tell Aeorden Zaridiux, "That would be beneficial."

Entering the gates of Stavenn.

Waving ominously, a black flag bearing stripes of indigo and gold rustles listlessly in the wind. An ancient and oversized tome stands upon a regally decorated pedestal here. Lying on the ground, a dirk fashioned from an elk's antler has been left here. The dead body of a Tazi archer has been nailed brutally to the point of a rigid, black cross. There are 3 hazeward stones here. There are 2 elegant white letters here. A massive, sparkling wheel hovers here, a bejeweled arrow pointing straight up from the middle of the wheel. A magnificent flag, emblazoned with the crest of the Empire ripples regally from the columns of the gates. A silver lined letter rests here. A silver plaque with a gold trim and embellished with the crest of Stavenn is permanently planted in front of the gates. A short, stone basin rests upon a pedestal here filled with blood. A pike with the decapitated head of Dreacor has been erected. Sodden mane tangled in wild reeds and cattails, a kelpie stallion lurks here with baleful opalescent eyes. An irate ebon filly stands here on gangly legs, her ears pinned back in a comical yet annoyed manner. An elite Diavlous Knight is manning a netthrower here. He has ninety-seven nets. A pallid stallion stands here idly. A vicious smoke-blue stallion stands here, pawing and stomping ferociously at the ground. There are 2 ravenous hounds here. With a wild look in his eye, a feral paint stallion stands heatedly here as he stomps and paces recklessly. A small black cobra is flaring its hood here. Blazing, wrathful eyes glare through a blackened, scorched chamfron featuring several spikes protruding from the helm. Muscles rippling beneath its ebon coat, a massive shire stands here poised and alert. Enormous azure eyes seemingly following you, a carnivorous obsidian spider prowls the area. Casting a tyranical shadow, a massive two-headed condor gives all a sinister, regal gaze. A massive groomed black stallion stands here proudly, its large form covered in silver battle armour. Calmly gazing upon her surroundings with ice blue eyes, a healthy white mare stands here upon strong legs. A resplendent celestial hovers nearby in stoic silence, exuding a lambent glow. The undead form of Magistrate Onaedan Lokrien is here, listening intently. He wields a Fleshrender battleaxe in his left hand and a lunar shield in his right. The undead form of Sir Delra Aracelia, Keeper's Apprentice is here. He is holding a buckler in his left hand. The undead form of Aeorden Zaridiux is here. He wields a strong broadsword in his left hand and a mithril shield in his right. Unfinished trenches have been dug at this location, with wires lying all around. 
You see exits leading west, and the ominous gates of Stavenn lie to the east (gate open).

Aeorden gives you a nod of acknowledgement.

You give Aeorden a slow nod.

Aeorden removes a horned veritum helmet.

Aeorden gives a horned veritum helmet to you.

Aeorden removes a crystehl armband of the Suns.

Aeorden gives a crystehl armband of the Suns to you.

Almost exclusively made out of veritum, this piece of metalworking seems to be made by a master metalworker. Layered plates of veritum form the main protection, offering excellent defense against any assault as well as reflecting any available light, giving it the semblance of shining whenever a light source touches its surface. Made to fit a kohdon's skull, it stretches out from the front, covering both jaws in a layer of veritum. At the sides where the jaws connect, a hinge moves the helmet whenever the jaw moves, allowing free speech without difficulty. Stehl fangs have been attached to the sides, making it so that any bite wounds inflicted when the helmet is worn are at least doubled in size. On the top of the helmet, various horns are visible: one on the nose, curving backwards slightly, and two on top of the helmet, above where the eyes would be, the curved horns extending forward. An intricate layer of decorative engravings have been added to the helmet, flowing in a beautiful pattern from top to bottom.
It has 59 months of usefulness left.
It weighs about 20 pounds.
A small crafter's mark indicates that the customisation was by Aeorden's design.
It bears the distinctive mark of Aeorden.

You have emoted: Iniar looks over a horned veritum helmet slowly, nodding quietly as he examines the quality of the armour.
Balance Taken: 1.10s

You give a horned veritum helmet to Aeorden.

You open the bevor of your plate helm.
Rasping, you say, "That is fine work, Mr. Zaridiux."
You quickly close the bevor of your plate helm.

Aeorden puts on a horned veritum helmet.

Aeorden nods his head.

Gesturing with his hands, Aeorden Zaridiux says, "The armband, too."

This armband has seemingly been made out of one smooth ingot of crystehl. Any light that hits the surface seems to make it shimmer with the colours of the rainbow, a natural property of the legendary metal used to fashion the armband. Seven gems have been cut and polished reverently, set in a circular fashion with the most methodical precision. Boasting a large sapphire in the center, a diamond, emerald, ruby, obsidian, granite and an orb of pure gold surround it in a circle, each representing a different sun. Tiny cracks are visible around the emerald, and the surface of the gem itself seems dull and unreflective. Small lines of devout prayer flow around the surface of the armband, beseeching the Lord of the Suns to protect anyone who might be wearing it.
It has 66 months of usefulness left.
It weighs 5 ounces.
This will occupy the armband clothing slot.

You give a crystehl armband of the Suns to Aeorden.

Aeorden puts on a crystehl armband of the Suns.

You open the bevor of your plate helm.
Rasping, you say, "Thirty percent."
You quickly close the bevor of your plate helm.

Aeorden's eyes sparkle with amusement.

Aeorden Zaridiux says, "You drive a hard bargain, sir."

You open the bevor of your plate helm.
Rasping, you say, "I am a hard man."
You quickly close the bevor of your plate helm.

You open the bevor of your plate helm.
Rasping, you laughingly say, "Or so they say."
You quickly close the bevor of your plate helm.

Aeorden ponders a bit more before extending his claw and nodding. "Very well."

You nod slowly.

You open the bevor of your plate helm.
Rasping, you say, "Shall I have my lawyers draw up the contracts?"
You quickly close the bevor of your plate helm.

Aeorden Zaridiux says, "Aye. That'd be good."

You open the bevor of your plate helm.
Rasping, you say, "Excellent."
You quickly close the bevor of your plate helm.

You have emoted: Iniar offers Aeorden a large paw in a handshake, a wry smile on his face. "Hopefully this will be a good partnership."
Balance Taken: 1.10s

Aeorden wags his tail behind him and nods, grasping your paw with his claw. "Indeed. I'm sure it will be."
wit beyond measure is a Sidhe's greatest treasure

Comments

  • IniarIniar Australia
    edited April 2015
    Rise of the Yeti Cowboys  Gunslingers

    Vasharr frowns at you.

    "Eh?" you say curiously.

    Vasharr Greyjoy, Deadwood's Ire says to you, "Hand over the gold, sir."

    You open the bevor of your plate helm.
    Rasping, you say to Vasharr, "I have distributed the gold to the poor."
    You quickly close the bevor of your plate helm.

    You open the bevor of your plate helm.
    Rasping, you say to Vasharr, "There is none left."
    You quickly close the bevor of your plate helm.

    With a sharp exhalation of breath, Vasharr flops himself down on the ground.

    You pat Vasharr in a friendly manner.

    Vasharr Greyjoy, Deadwood's Ire says, "But... I'm a poor yeti."

    You open the bevor of your plate helm.
    Rasping, you say, "Has the campaign costs run out of control? Are you seeking wealthy sponsors?"
    You quickly close the bevor of your plate helm.

    Vasharr gives you a nod of acknowledgement.

    You look about yourself, rubbing your chin thoughtfully.

    You open the bevor of your plate helm.
    Rasping, you say, "I heard Theophilus put out a bounty on Septus' head... and quite a pretty penny too."
    You quickly close the bevor of your plate helm.

    Vasharr Greyjoy, Deadwood's Ire says to you, "Septus is so... so deadly though."

    You open the bevor of your plate helm.
    Rasping, you say to Vasharr, "Not if you split the profit with him."
    You quickly close the bevor of your plate helm.

    A sudden eruption of a distant volcano lights up the firmament. <-- Mount Doom.

    Vasharr ponders for a moment and says "Hrm..."

    You nod sagely at Vasharr.

    The sky above you opens up some, leaving only partial cloud cover.

    (Ring): You say, "Time to roleplay dementia when Vasharr asks Theophilus for the 1 million gold bounty for Septus' head."

    The peaceful form of Mereis, Aspect of Aryana enters from the west.

    Taking gunpowder and a steel ball Mereis loads a flintlock.

    Mereis's eyes fill with battle rage as she screams out, "Hands up!"

    You have emoted: Iniar raises his hands into the air. "Vasharr, we're getting robbed."

    You give Vasharr the once-over, eyeing him suspiciously.

    Mereis points a flintlock at Vasharr.

    You point a flintlock at Mereis.

    You open the bevor of your plate helm.
    Rasping, you say, "Aha, you let your guard down!"
    You quickly close the bevor of your plate helm.

    You open the bevor of your plate helm.
    Rasping, you say, "Stick em up!"
    You quickly close the bevor of your plate helm.

    You point a flintlock at Mereis.

    You point a flintlock at Mereis.

    Mereis, the Red Hand says, "No!"

    You quickdraw a flintlock, a truesilver shield.
    This weapon is already loaded.
    Balance Taken: 1.10s

    You quickdraw a flintlock, a truesilver shield.
    This weapon is already loaded.
    Balance Taken: 1.10s

    You open the bevor of your plate helm.
    Rasping, you say, "You leave me no choice!"
    You quickly close the bevor of your plate helm.

    You quickdraw a flintlock, a truesilver shield.
    This weapon is already loaded.
    Balance Taken: 1.10s

    You quickdraw a flintlock, a truesilver shield.
    Taking gunpowder and a steel ball you load a flintlock.
    Balance Taken: 7.40s

    Mereis, the Red Hand says, "Where is my doppleganger!"

    You open the bevor of your plate helm.
    Rasping, you say, "Robbing the bank!"
    You quickly close the bevor of your plate helm.

    You quickdraw a flintlock, a truesilver shield.
    -(anti-weapon field).
    You aim a flintlock at Mereis and pull the trigger.
    The weapon discharges with a bang, releasing a cloud of smoke.
    The shot strikes true, tearing through Mereis's body.
    Balance Taken: 2.00s

    Mereis sipped.

    Mereis aims a flintlock at Vasharr and pulls the trigger.
    The weapon discharges with a bang, releasing a cloud of smoke.
    The shot strikes true, tearing through Vasharr's body.

    You open the bevor of your plate helm.
    Rasping, you say, "Die, robber!"
    You quickly close the bevor of your plate helm.

    Vasharr sipped.

    You quickdraw a flintlock, a truesilver shield.
    -(anti-weapon field).
    You aim a flintlock at Mereis and pull the trigger.
    The weapon discharges with a bang, releasing a cloud of smoke.
    The shot strikes true, tearing through Mereis's body.
    Balance Taken: 2.00s

    Mereis sipped.

    Mereis, the Red Hand says, "I've been shot!"

    You gag a bit as Mereis's stink wafts over you.

    Mereis, the Red Hand says, "Escape plan!"

    You have emoted: Iniar waves his flintlock victoriously in the air.

    Vasharr snorts arrogantly.

    Vasharr breathes deeply and spews ice at you, freezing your skin.

    You open the bevor of your plate helm.

    Rasping, you say, "Run, Red Bandit!"
    You quickly close the bevor of your plate helm.
    Vasharr breathes deeply and spews ice at you, freezing your skin.

    (herself) hit by Mereis (Danaeus).
    The visage snaps its fingers and Mereis is suddenly flung high into the air, surrounded by an icy storm blocking her descent.

    You open the bevor of your plate helm.
    Rasping, you say to Vasharr, "The famous outlaw, the Red Hand, makes her escape yet again!"
    You quickly close the bevor of your plate helm.

    The peaceful form of Mereis, Aspect of Aryana enters from the northwest.

    Mereis spins a flintlock around her finger before discreetly sheathing it within the depths of her coat.

    Vasharr Greyjoy, Deadwood's Ire says to you, "I need one of those!"

    You give a flintlock to Vasharr.

    Vasharr begins to wield a flintlock in his right hand.

    Vasharr aims a flintlock at you and pulls the trigger, but nothing happens.

    Mereis snickers softly to herself.

    You cackle hellishly.

    Vasharr gives a horrified gasp.

    Vasharr Greyjoy, Deadwood's Ire says, "Hand over the ammo!"

    You give a steel shot to Vasharr.

    You open the bevor of your plate helm.
    Rasping, you say to Mereis, "I fear I am being robbed."
    You quickly close the bevor of your plate helm.

    You open the bevor of your plate helm.
    Rasping, you laughingly say to Mereis, "Of my senses."
    You quickly close the bevor of your plate helm.

    Mereis, the Red Hand says, "You cannot be robbed of something you do not have, Antipaladin."

    Vasharr Greyjoy, Deadwood's Ire says, "Blackpowder?!"

    You crease your brow in a frown.

    Vasharr Greyjoy, Deadwood's Ire says, "What nonsense is this."

    Mereis's eyes fill with battle rage as she screams out, "Hands up!"

    You give a shot of blackpowder to Vasharr.

    Mereis gives a group of 10 blackpowder shots to Vasharr.

    Taking gunpowder and a steel ball Vasharr loads a flintlock.

    "Ahah!" Vasharr exclaims triumphantly.

    Mereis gives a group of 10 steel shots to Vasharr.

    You quickdraw a flintlock, a truesilver shield.
    -(anti-weapon field).
    You aim a flintlock at Vasharr and pull the trigger.
    The weapon discharges with a bang, releasing a cloud of smoke.
    The shot strikes true, tearing through Vasharr's body.
    Balance Taken: 2.00s

    You open the bevor of your plate helm.
    Rasping, you say, "DIE!"
    You quickly close the bevor of your plate helm.

    Mereis aims a flintlock at you and pulls the trigger.
    The weapon discharges with a bang, releasing a cloud of smoke.
    The shot strikes true, tearing through your body.  -88 [15.3%],  80 (-10.0%)
    Taking gunpowder and a steel ball Mereis loads a flintlock.

    You open the bevor of your plate helm.
    Rasping, you say, "DIE YETI!"
    You quickly close the bevor of your plate helm.

    You quickdraw a flintlock, a truesilver shield.
    -(anti-weapon field).
    You aim a flintlock at Vasharr and pull the trigger.
    The weapon discharges with a bang, releasing a cloud of smoke.
    The shot strikes true, tearing through Vasharr's body.
    Balance Taken: 2.00s

    Vasharr sipped.

    Comprehension flashes across Vasharr's face.

    "Gah!" Vasharr shouts, jumping in surprise.

    Vasharr aims a flintlock at you and pulls the trigger.
    A flintlock explodes in Vasharr's hands, destroying the weapon and knocking him down.
    (Vasharr) -prone. 

    (Ring): Mereis says, "Hahaha."

    Tears fill Vasharr's eyes and begin to slowly run down his face.

    "Tsk, tsk," Mereis says to Vasharr as she waggles a finger at him.

    (Ring): Vasharr says, "I'm going to go buy my own damn gun."

    (Ring): Vasharr says, "And it will work flawlessly."

    Vasharr wrinkles his nose and sniffs.

    (Vasharr) leaves to NORTHWEST.

    Vasharr Greyjoy, Deadwood's Ire says to Mereis, "I require the use of 2 powder and 2 shot, please!"

    Vasharr Greyjoy, Deadwood's Ire says to Mereis, "It's for a good cause."

    Mereis gives a group of 5 blackpowder shots to Vasharr.

    Mereis gives a group of 5 steel shots to Vasharr.

    "Ahah!" Vasharr exclaims triumphantly.

    Vasharr begins to wield a flintlock in his right hand.
    Vasharr aims a flintlock at you and pulls the trigger.
    The weapon discharges with a bang, releasing a cloud of smoke.
    The shot strikes true, tearing through your body.  -88 [15.3%],  80 (-10.0%)

    "Ahah!" Vasharr exclaims triumphantly.

    Vasharr Greyjoy, Deadwood's Ire says to Mereis, "We are victorious!"

    You see Vasharr Greyjoy, Deadwood's Ire shout, "Fear for your lives! Yetribution has been given flintlocks! NEW! Destructive! ADVANCED!"
    wit beyond measure is a Sidhe's greatest treasure
  • I love this new thread because I think there is a lot of mini-RP that goes on and is worth seeing but only major, group RP gets posted. I'll definitely start posting here.

    (I have a feeling most posts will be from demonic) 
    (Ring): Lartus says, "I heard Theophilus once threw a grenade and killed ten people."
    (Ring): Lartus says, "Then it exploded."

    (Ring): Zsetsu says, "Everyone's playing checkers, but Theophilus is playing chess."
  • Learning about enslavery as a Deathknight.

    You touch the prism tattoo and suddenly a razor-thin beam of prismatic light shoots off into the distance.
     
    An irresistible force pulls you along to the other end of the prismatic light.
    Starlit Ritual Room.
    A platinum star covered with runes is attached to the door. A small silvery stone is here, surrounded in haze. 
    Lardek, Initiate of the Sanguine is here. He is holding a fox-like tanari doll in his right hand. This is a 
    summoning room. 
    There are no obvious exits.

    Pressing the tips of his fingers one to the other in a steeple at the center of his breast, Lardek bows to you 
    in respect.

    Theophilus nods slowly at Lardek before greeting him with a sincere smile.

    You say, "Shall I remind you of the ritual process or do you remember it?"

    You tilt your head and listen intently to Lardek.
     
    Lardek adjusts a heavy black cloak edged with wolf fur as he nods a bit, "Tell me when you are ready. And I 
    shall begin. I recall it, Imperator," he voices.

    You secure your previously wielded items and instantly draw an antiquated draconian longsword into your left 
    hand, with a banded shield of necromantic bone flowing into your right hand.

    Theophilus tightens his grip on the pommel of an antiquated draconian longsword before 
    tensing his muscles slightly. "I am ready, Initiate..." he mutters.

    Lardek nods a bit in respect, then with a flourish of a heavy black cloak edged with wolf fur, he moves to the 
    central area and leans forward to begin...

    Carefully Lardek gathers some ink and begins scrawling a large circle on the ground.

    Having completed the main circle, Lardek begins to enscribe a large inverted star within it.

    Theophilus peers at Lardek intently as he observes the ritual with intrigue.

    Sweating from the effort, Lardek begins meticulously writing the sealing runes for the pentagram.

    Lardek checks the pentagram one final time for error, before finishing the work.

    Lardek, Initiate of the Sanguine chants, "DIA AD ADAODAUN RIXIL."
    As Lardek chants, intense heat fills the room.

    Red fire flashes from the pentagram, filling the room with thick smoke. Screams of anguish echo across the 
    stone walls.

    Lardek grits his teeth with a grimace as he tears open a palm before squeezing it into a fist, the viscous 
    liquid dripping onto the pentagram beneath.

    Lardek, Initiate of the Sanguine chants, "AGUS DUNACH ORT RIXIL."
    As Lardek chants, a portal of fire appears within the pentagram.

    Intense heat spews across the room as the portal of fire flashes and Rixil, the spectre emerges from within.

    A foul chuckle reverberates through the chamber, emanating from the form of Rixil.

    Rixil, the spectre screams in rage as Lardek begins to concentrate and slowly chant.

    Lardek continues his chant as he wrestles for control over the entity.

    Rixil, the spectre growls as Lardek seals his binding magick over it.

    With a snarl Lardek ends the summoning, casting Rixil, the spectre back to the demon plane.

    Theophilus relaxes his grip on an antiquated draconian longsword and nods in satisfaction. 
    "Well done, Initiate," he says. "Have you any more to summon?"

    Lardek stretches out his arms a bit with a firm clasp together as the energies coalesce to send Rixil back. A 
    light pant and he wipes sweat from his brow, "I have one more, Imperator. And that's all I can manage for the 
    day."

    Theophilus nods curtly before saying, "Then proceed," as he begins to look about his 
    surroundings with vigilance.

    More summoning.

    Arctar's black steel helmet fades momentarily, revealing a faceless, emotionless skull.
     
    Arctar, the Defender growls as Lardek seals his binding magick over it.

    The armoured form in the centre of the room shimmers and morphs, the armour taking on a new form.
     
    With a snarl Lardek ends the summoning, casting Arctar, the Defender back to the demon plane.

    You nod slowly.

    Lardek wrestles control from Arctar and binds him, then he gasps out a small breath, as he kneels, with a sigh.

    Lardek shakes his head.

    Lardek stands back up.

    You say to Lardek, "It appears tiring, to be sure. Is that the end of the summoning?"

    Lardek nods his head.

    His eyes pensive, Theophilus grins and says, "And to think... the Imperator may learn from an 
    Initiate."
    (Ring): Lartus says, "I heard Theophilus once threw a grenade and killed ten people."
    (Ring): Lartus says, "Then it exploded."

    (Ring): Zsetsu says, "Everyone's playing checkers, but Theophilus is playing chess."
  • More Noctu RP. @jordiach

    An irresistible force pulls you along to the other end of the prismatic light.
    Starlit Ritual Room.
    A platinum star covered with runes is attached to the door. A small silvery stone is here, surrounded in haze. 
    Lardek, Initiate of the Sanguine is here, humming quietly to himself. He is holding a fox-like tanari doll in 
    his right hand. Jordiach Elandor, Eye of the Sanguine is here, humming quietly to herself. Acolyte of Shadows, 
    Athanis is here. He wields an iron-tipped whip in his right hand. This is a summoning room. 
    There are no obvious exits.

    Jordiach grins mischievously at you.

    With a slight incline of his head, Theophilus states curtly, "I apologize for my tardiness."
     
    Jordiach Elandor, Eye of the Sanguine says, "You are just fine."
     
    Jordiach Elandor, Eye of the Sanguine says, "Everyone relax your reflexes, please."

    You nod your head affirmatively.

    Jordiach Elandor, Eye of the Sanguine says to you, "Okay so Golgotha, in the Imperator's Cloak, wearing the 
    Imperator's crown?"

    You say to Jordiach, "It will be placed on my back."
     
    Jordiach nods her head.

    You remove a shimmering suit of full plate armour.
     
    Jordiach nods her head.

    Jordiach Elandor, Eye of the Sanguine says to you, "Please undress from the waist up, and let us begin."

    Lardek watches on with curiosity.

    With a swift motion, Theophilus loosens the crimson sash which binds the robes of the 
    Imperator together, exposing his back as he turns away from Jordiach.
     
    Jordiach pulls out an old and tattered piece of leather. She unrolls it to reveal a multitude of needles and 
    inks.
     
    Jordiach puts a handful of obsidian onto the leather cloth, along with a tinderbox, a dagger, and a metal rod. 
    She sits down a bucket filled with water and a few strips of cloth.

    Jordiach Elandor, Eye of the Sanguine says, "Noctusari, we gather here today to see the birth of something 
    beyond mortal comprehension. A power that extends beyond that of any tangibility, be it among the Physical, 
    Spiritual, or Demonic. It's the very thread of fate we have utilized to move the Multiverse to our will."

    Jordiach Elandor, Eye of the Sanguine says, "Something often overlooked and underestimated - it is even one of 
    the Four Pillars we have stood upon since the time of our conception from our Gazali forefathers. It is the 
    power of Unity, and today, this devout Initiate, Theophilus comes to rekindle the flames of that power by 
    dedicating himself to the Brethren."

    Jordiach Elandor, Eye of the Sanguine says to you, "I am going to walk you through the process now. I will ink 
    the shape and outline of your tattoo. This will not take long, and it shouldn't hurt much. It will be very 
    similar to a functional tattoo. After that is done, however, is the obsidian. I will slit your skin into a 
    cross. In the center of the cross I will lay the stone. After cleaning up the blood I will cauterize the wound 
    with the hot rod. This will cause the bleeding to stop and the skin to scab over. In a month or so the scabs 
    will fall off and the skin will have grown around the stones. There is a chance of them being rejected by the 
    body. I can put them back in, if that is the case."

    Jordiach Elandor, Eye of the Sanguine says to you, "Are you ready to begin?"

    Theophilus closes his eyes and exhales a soft sigh at the words of Jordiach. "I am, Doyen" he 
    replies.

    Jordiach Elandor, Eye of the Sanguine says to you, "Please lie on your stomach."

    Jordiach sits down.

    Theophilus kneels on the ground before placing himself in the prone position, his arms 
    extended on either side of him.

    Sliding herself close to you, Jordiach lights a needle on fire to sterilize it.
     
    Jordiach dips the needle into the ink and begins to stab rapidly into his arm. The shape of Golgotha, Demon 
    Emperor, wearing the crown of the Imperator begins to become visible.
     
    Jordiach wipes the ink out of the skin with the cloth, and pulls back, repositioning herself to ink Golgotha 
    upon your back.

    Without much thought, Jordiach switches position and begins the outline of the Imperators cloak.
     
    Jordiach continues with the motions, ignoring any movement from you. The tattoo begins to take shape.

    Jordiach picks up a clean cloth and dabs at the edge of the tattoo, sopping up excess ink.

    Harsh laughter can be heard, followed by the sound of a cracking whip.

    Theophilus shifts slightly as his respirations slow and his muscles relax, having become 
    accustomed to the pain of the needle.

    Jordiach Elandor, Eye of the Sanguine says to you, "Are you sure you want the obsidian?"

    Theophilus shifts his gaze to an obsidian-plated hound and says, "I am sure."

    Jordiach grins mischievously.

    Jordiach Elandor, Eye of the Sanguine says, "Alright, you may want to clench your teeth."

    With one swift motion, Jordiach takes the dagger and carves a cross at each of the eyes of the Demon Emperor.

    You have emoted: Theophilus repositions himself slightly as a slight smile traces his lips. The muscles in his 
    jaw tighten as his teeth clench together.

    Jordiach scoops up two pieces of obsidian and shoves them underneath your flesh.

    Jordiach picks up the metal rod and holds it to the flame from the tinderbox.

    Jordiach takes the cloth and cleans up the excess blood before pressing the red-hot iron on top of each piece 
    of obsidian, burning your flesh and stopping the bleeding.

    Jordiach drops the rod into the bucket of water with a satisfying sizzle. She begins to clean and pack up her 
    kit.

    Flinching only slightly, Theophilus begins to breathe a bit more heavily as the iron touches 
    his flesh.

    Jordiach Elandor, Eye of the Sanguine says to you, "Thank you for your dedication. Thank you for your 
    Sacrifice."

    Jordiach Elandor, Eye of the Sanguine says, "Long live the Noctusari!"
     
    Jordiach stands up and stretches her arms out wide.

    Theophilus stands to his feet as he pulls the robes of the Imperator down and tightens the 
    crimson sash once more. "Long live the Noctusari," he responds.

    You incline your head toward Jordiach respectfully.

    You say to Lardek, "Thank you for coming."

    You say to Athanis, "And you as well."

    Something chill sends a shiver along your spine, turning around you find nothing there, but a fading cackle 
    sounding in your ear.
    (Ring): Lartus says, "I heard Theophilus once threw a grenade and killed ten people."
    (Ring): Lartus says, "Then it exploded."

    (Ring): Zsetsu says, "Everyone's playing checkers, but Theophilus is playing chess."
  • IniarIniar Australia
    Every day... 

    Elza sucks thoughtfully on a bright red cherry lollipop.

    You grin mischievously at Elza.

    Elza winks at you.
    wit beyond measure is a Sidhe's greatest treasure
  • Seems the visions from THE MIRROR haunt thoregg's dreams:

    "You find yourself standing beneath a portcullis, and an armed guard urges your forward into a long, dark hallway. Few candles light the walls as you approach the dead end, and an ornate mirror is affixed at the eye-level- You begin to wonder what you will see when you reach the mirror."
  • IniarIniar Australia
    Mereis's link to the mortal coil has been severed by Mereis.

    Mereis cries aloud her renunciation of divine grace.

    Wooden landing upon an expansive river.
    A beautiful chestnut mare of the Heartlands prances here, tossing her head with equine grace. Incredibly large and a rare white shade, a massive woolly mammoth stands here with confidence and aloofness. The marred form of Charon, the Guardian of Souls, stands here holding a dim lantern aloft. A treant meanders aimlessly here, weeping tears of blood. A peaceful aura fills the area, emanating from Mereis, Aspect of Aryana. She wields a buckler in her left hand and a flintlock in her right.

    In quiet undertones, you say, "Welcome."

    Mereis, the Red Hand says, "Glad to be here."

    In quiet undertones, you say, "Always good to have the most famous bandit of this era visit my home."

    In quiet undertones, you say, "Though, keep your hands in your pockets."

    Mereis, the Red Hand says, "Ah, my reputation preceeds me."

    You give Mereis the once-over, eyeing her suspiciously.

    Mereis, the Red Hand says, "Very well."

    In quiet undertones, you say, "Some tea perhaps?"

    Mereis spins a flintlock around her finger before grasping it firmly once more.

    A bleeding treant named Sammie sneezes.

    Mereis, the Red Hand says, "I wouldn't mind. Nothing exciting happening up in the world, in any case."

    Mereis, the Red Hand says to a bleeding treant named Sammie, "Bless you."

    In quiet undertones, you say to a bleeding treant named Sammie, "Fetch us some tea, Sammie."

    A bleeding treant named Sammie strides off into the gloom and returns with a set of delicate teacups. He rattles them a little before settling them down in front of Mereis and Iniar.

    Rasping, you say to a bleeding treant named Sammie, "Where's the tea?"

    A bleeding treant named Sammie coughs surreptitiously, looking abashed. He wanders off again.

    In quiet undertones, you say to Mereis, "Good help is hard to find these days."

    Something passes overhead, casting no shadow but standing out in contrast to the pervasive grey.

    (Ring): Mereis says, "God."

    (Ring): Mereis says, "I can't decide whether to find Sammie cute or disturbing."

    (Ring): Mereis says, "Tears of blood, really."

    (Ring): Mereis says, "What a pansy."

    A bleeding treant named Sammie ambles ungracefully towards the party, holding a twisted teapot. As he shuffles closer, murkish liquid splashes out of the spout, and lands near Iniar's foot, hissing and spitting violently.

    Mereis smiles wryly, a look of amusement passing over her features.

    In quiet undertones, you say to a bleeding treant named Sammie, "Uhh."

    A bleeding treant named Sammie quietly pours out the corrosive liquid into the two teacups, chortling quietly as the acid dissolves the fine china. The two unfortunate teacups melt into two unrecognizable puddles of once precious china.

    Mereis , trying to discern the scent, sniffs closely at the fumes emanating from a twisted teapot.

    You give a bleeding treant named Sammie the once-over, eyeing him suspiciously.

    Mereis, the Red Hand says, "Ah, well. That looks absolutely...ravishing."

    A bleeding treant named Sammie cackles mightily, walking off into the distance carrying his wicked teapot.

    Rasping, you say to Mereis, "My apologies. I think he forgot his medication today."

    You shout, "Come back, Sammie. And bring something drinkable."

    You shrug helplessly.

    Mereis, the Red Hand says, "Hey may need a stronger dosage of whatever he's taking."

    Rasping, you say, "Perhaps more wormwood."

    Mereis nods her head in agreement.

    Rasping, you say, "I hear Dreacor is around."

    Mereis, the Red Hand says, "I hope he has better manners than most of his colleagues."

    Moving with ease and care through the darkened sky, the moon of Life glows brightly.

    Rasping, you say, "Ha, if what they have could be considered manners."

    Rasping, you say, "I guess that slacker's gone off and fallen asleep some where!"

    Mereis, the Red Hand says, "Or planted himself, more like."

    Mereis, the Red Hand says, "Or maybe he lost his leaves and he's trying to gather them back."

    Mereis, the Red Hand says, "It is, after all, autumn."

    You look about yourself, rubbing your chin thoughtfully.

    In quiet undertones, you say, "I did remember asking him about his mother and him getting all weepy. Well... more weepy than usual."

    You shake your head sadly.

    In quiet undertones, you say to Mereis, "He is an unfortunate disaster."

    In quiet undertones, you say to Mereis, "His mum was an apple tree... His dad was a blackthorn. You can imagine the scandal!"

    You shake your head sadly.

    Mereis, the Red Hand says, "Well."

    Mereis, the Red Hand says, "That's still somewhat better than Azefel's mangoes."

    Iniar offers Mereis a pellet, "Pellet? I'm guessing tea isn't coming."

    You give a food pellet to Mereis.

    Mereis, the Red Hand says, "Ah, food pellets. Cuisine of the divine."

    Mereis thanks you profusely.

    Mereis eats a food pellet with obvious gusto.

    In quiet undertones, you say, "Thanatos, I heard the legal proceedings for those were horrific."

    In quiet undertones, you say, "One went green with envy and the other ripe with anger."

    Mereis smiles wryly, a look of amusement passing over her features.

    You eat a food pellet with gusto.

    Rasping, you say, "Some would say... over-ripe."

    You tap your nose knowingly.

    Mereis nods sagely.

    Mereis, the Red Hand says, "I daresay seeds of distrust were planted by all parties involved."

    You nod sagely.

    A bleeding treant named Sammie appears in the distance, bearing a watermelon. He creaks up to #Mereis and plonks the fruit in #mereis_her lap.

    Mereis, the Red Hand says, "Um."

    You raise an eyebrow at a bleeding treant named Sammie.

    Mereis, the Red Hand says, "Thank you..."

    In quiet undertones, you say, "Sammie, his name is Sammie."

    You cough softly.

    Mereis rummages around her pack for something.

    Mereis, the Red Hand says, "Ah, here we go."

    Mereis produces a sharp, silver knife.

    Mereis, the Red Hand says, "It was meant for moroi hearts, but really, how far off are watermelons?"

    Mereis begins to slice the watermelon into smaller, juicy red pieces.

    A bleeding treant named Sammie claps his hands in glee.

    Mereis, the Red Hand says, "Let's make do."

    Mereis gives a tuning fork to you.

    Mereis hands a tuning fork to a bleeding treant named Sammie.

    You have emoted: Iniar smiles sardonically, "I guess I have to eat both watermelon and my own words." He uses the tuning fork and scoops out a large chunk of watermelon flesh.

    A bleeding treant named Sammie peers curiously at the tuning fork, before sticking it into a hole next to where an ear would be.

    You give a bleeding treant named Sammie the once-over, eyeing him suspiciously.

    Mereis pierces a piece of watermelon in the prongs of a tuning fork and begins to eat.

    Mereis stares implacably at a bleeding treant named Sammie.

    A bleeding treant named Sammie removes one of the pearlescent fruits hanging from his head, and begins to peel off its skin. Cleverly, he fashions the peel into tiny containers then proceeds to squeeze the luscious flesh, dripping a crimson fluid into the makeshift cups. He offers them to Mereis and Iniar in turn, a cheesy humanoid-like smile on the gash that one could consider his mouth.

    Mereis, the Red Hand says, "Well, isn't that nice?"

    You pat a bleeding treant named Sammie in a friendly manner.

    Mereis sniffs curiously, and hesitantly, at the liquid inside the fleshy cup.

    In quiet undertones, you say, "Uhm."

    Mereis, the Red Hand says, "We're already in the Underworld, in any case."

    Rasping, you say, "I wouldn't drink that."

    Rasping, you say to a bleeding treant named Sammie, "Thank you. Your urine isn't particularly pleasant, but thank you any how."

    Mereis, the Red Hand says, "Ah."

    Mereis, the Red Hand says, "Well, then."

    Mereis surreptitiously pours the drink on the ground.

    A bleeding treant named Sammie delicately picks up one of the containers and slurps the crimson liquid down noisily.

    (Ring): You say, "D:."

    Mereis's face freezes into a fixed, strained smile.

    Rasping, you say, "I guess that's one way to fertilize the plants."

    You place your face in your palm and shake your head in absolute frustration.

    Mereis, the Red Hand says, "As long as he's happy, I suppose."

    Rasping, you say, "See that cheesy smile? I'm worried when he gets happy."

    You place your face in your palm and shake your head in absolute frustration.

    Comprehension flashes across Mereis's face.

    You mutter, "Blo... treant."

    Rasping, you say to Mereis, "My apologies, I must daydream. Tea another time? Hopefully it'll be less of a disaster."

    You give a bleeding treant named Sammie the once-over, eyeing him suspiciously.

    Mereis smiles wryly, a look of amusement passing over her features.

    Mereis nods her head.

    Charon makes a curt gesture at Mereis, urging her to step into the rickety boat. Although the boat rocks ominously as Mereis steps into it, Charon emotionlessly pushes off from the dock, guiding the ferry to a distant shore. Moments later, the ferry returns, Charon standing impassively at its helm.
    wit beyond measure is a Sidhe's greatest treasure
  • You guys crack me up with these. I looooooove them! Keep them up please!!! Great idea with the thread.

  • How Stavennite of us.

    Initiate Mirai Xathclyde says, "For Abigail and our esteemed general, I will be demonstrating a simple ritual of libation which is a basic, but integral part of blood magick."

    Taking a few steps back, Theophilus plants the tip of an antiquated draconian longsword into the ground before placing his hands on the pommel and leaning into the weapon as he observes with expression hidden behind a scowling gargoyle mask.

    Mirai grips her daegger tightly in hand. Raising her free arm she begins to chant in a dark dialect before plunging the wicked blade deep into her wrist to let her scalding blood flow freely from the created gash.

    Initiate Mirai Xathclyde says something enigmatic in a dark and icy tongue.

    Mathiaus stretches his bone wings, each joint cracking as he curls them back in.

    Mirai draws the blade swiftly across her wrist, deepening the gash to allow even more of that precious life-force to anoint her blade as well as the ground underfoot. She turns to Abigail, holding her wrist aloft.

    Initiate Mirai Xathclyde says to Abigail something enigmatic in a dark and icy tongue.

    An obsidian-plated hound perks his ears as he watches casually from his place beside Theophilus.

    Initiate Mirai Xathclyde says something enigmatic in a dark and icy tongue.

    You say to Mathiaus, "General. I believe Mirai wishes for her blood to be consumed."

    You urge Mathiaus onwards.

    Mathiaus smirks.

    Having since stood still and silent, content to merely observe, Abigail steps forward to Mirai, removing a mask depicting the Creator from her face. She takes the offered wrist in her hands, tilts her head and places her mouth to the pour of blood.

    Mirai nods her head.

    Initiate Mirai Xathclyde says something enigmatic in a dark and icy tongue.

    Mathiaus rolls back his hood, revealing the ghoulish remains of his face. As the skin sags around his mouth, Mathiaus moves forward and gently places his decaying lips on Mirai's wrist. He ravenously draws blood, his eyes becoming withdrawn and hunger biding in his visage.

    Mirai nods her head.

    Initiate Mirai Xathclyde says something enigmatic in a dark and icy tongue.

    Mirai turns finally to Theophilus, her burning blood still flowing heavily from the wound in her arm as she offers it up once more.

    Initiate Mirai Xathclyde says to you something enigmatic in a dark and icy tongue.

    You remove a scowling gargoyle mask.

    With a curt nod, Theophilus stands upright and takes several steps toward Mirai. He lifts her 
    arm to his lips to drink from the wound.

    You are now wearing a scowling gargoyle mask.

    Mirai nods her head.

    Theophilus takes a few steps back to reside beside an obsidian-plated hound once more.

    Replacing her mask, Abigail stands with both hands holding a banner bearing the Stavenn crest firmly.

    Mirai withdraws her arm, drawing upon necromantic energies to close up the bloody gash as she intones once more "King in Red, we honor you. King in Red, you are not forgotten. Our strength, from you we draw."

    Initiate Mirai Xathclyde says, "This concludes the ritual of libation. I thank you all for honoring me with your presence and participation. May you be ever strengthened by blood."
    (Ring): Lartus says, "I heard Theophilus once threw a grenade and killed ten people."
    (Ring): Lartus says, "Then it exploded."

    (Ring): Zsetsu says, "Everyone's playing checkers, but Theophilus is playing chess."
  • Scowling gargoyle mask makes me so happy. Bahahaha.
  • You recall that (2015/05/12 03:46) Kanna told you:
    "Hey! I have something important for you!"

    You recall that (2015/05/12 03:46) Kanna told you:
    "Yes! Come to your city!"
    ------ 
    You incline your head toward Kanna respectfully.

    Kanna shakes the sphere of Malkav, and a chorus of mad laughter echoes throughout the room.
    The wavering image of a raving madman appears within the sphere and says in a deep resonant tone, "Yes, Kanna."
     
    Kanna Savet says to you, "Do you like Malkav?"

    You smile impishly and say to Kanna, "I have a bit in common with him.."
     
    You say to Kanna, "Why do you ask?"

    Kanna Savet says to you, "Are you serious?!"

    Kanna preens happily.

    Kanna stretch her body out and flaps her feathery wings, attempt to clear the air around her.

    Kanna Savet says to you, "Look! It's like this."

    Kanna Savet says, "First, you put on your serious face."

    Kanna puts on a serious face.

    Theophilus crosses his eyes and puckers out his lips, his countenance twisting into the most 
    insanely silly face imaginable. He giggles hysterically and says, "I like Malkav!"
     
    Kanna points accusingly at a serious face.

    Kanna Savet says, "Then -- oh, good."

    Kanna Savet says to you, "I think you deserve this more than me then."

    Kanna removes a serious face.

    Theophilus puts on a serious face--though only for a moment before bursting into laughter.

    Kanna Savet says to you, "This is the last surviving artefact of the Malkavian Order."
     
    You say to Kanna, "Is it?"

    Kanna Savet says to you, "Please take good care of it for me."
     
    Kanna gives a serious face to you.

    Kanna ruffles her feathers before calling out with a loud "Caw!"

    Kanna begins tumbling towards the east.

    You are now wearing a serious face.

    .... what??? I don't know what, but I love it.
    (Ring): Lartus says, "I heard Theophilus once threw a grenade and killed ten people."
    (Ring): Lartus says, "Then it exploded."

    (Ring): Zsetsu says, "Everyone's playing checkers, but Theophilus is playing chess."
  • Wastelands near a hollow.
    Filling the firmament is a lattice of heavy grey clouds. The slime and muck that coats the entire area 
    continues here, while the terrain seems to grow a bit more solid to the north. All around you there is a 
    pungent scent of decay--partially biological, but also with odd undertones. Over the audible burbling of the 
    surrounding bits of marsh and swamp, the noise of sentient movement and actions barely crosses the threshold 
    of your hearing, along with occasional grunted words in a harsh, foreign tongue. There is a group of 4 pinches 
    of saltpetre here. Towering mirrors facing inward, an altar of the Unspeakable looms here. Shadows swirl 
    around the towering form of Rhysor the Demon Emperor as he tries feebly to beat against the barriers of the 
    pentagram that contains him. A sleek black hound stands stone still, ears perked and alert. Small traces of 
    light reflect upon the surface of the obsidian armour of a Deathknight's hound.
    You see exits leading north, east, and southwest.

    You say, "Shall we begin the ritual then?"

    Chesira nods her head affirmatively.

    Taking a few steps toward Rhysor the Demon Emperor, Theophilus stops just inches from the 
    barrier formed by the pentagram scrawled upon the ground. He raises a keen veteran's longsword before him and 
    mumbles inaudibly at first, necromatic energy swirling around the blade. A few seconds pass and Theophilus 
    unleashes a dour cry before plunging a keen veteran's longsword deep into the barrier, forcing Rhysor the 
    Demon Emperor to scream in rage.
     
    Kryss nods, leaning against a nearby tree with her pirate hat pulled down over her eyes.

    Abigail puts on a hooded plate helm.

    Rhysor the Demon Emperor howls in agony as the shadows which swirl around him begin to coelesce into the 
    figures of spirits of the past conquered. He drops to his knees as the figures swirl more viciously around him,
    their forms occassionally bashing into the barrier of the pentagram.

    With a swift motion, Theophilus withdraws a keen veteran's longsword from the barrier as 
    Rhysor the Demon Emperor drifts into a state of unconsciousness. The spirits begin to escape through the 
    gaping hole left by his blade. They silently group before Theophilus and await command.

    Theophilus whispers briefly and nods before the spirits disband and float to the four corners 
    of Aetherius. In no time, they have returned with a large supply of wood and obsidian stone. Without 
    hesitation, they begin quick work constructing an edifice around the altar of the Sect of the Unspeakable, 
    leaving an opening in the front by which to access the reliquary.

    The spirits quickly place wood and stone to form what appears to be an 
    impressive staircase. The steps spiral around the altar of the Sect of the Unspeakable, disappearing high into 
    the sky above. As soon as the structure is complete, each spirit hovers near a place on the wall beside the 
    steps and leaves a personal glyph. After grouping once more before Theophilus, they dissipate, finally freed 
    of their captor.

    The shadows lengthen, daylight wanes, and the sun falls deeper to the horizon.
     
    Abigail silently keeps the ebony blade of the Harbinger at the ready; the grip on her twin weapons tightens 
    almost imperceptibly.
     
    Sudden movement yields a glimpse of a swamp snake before it darts out of sight.
    657/554 (118%) 394/336 (117%) 

    Walking to the barrier which surrounds Rhysor the Demon Emperor, Theophilus waves his hands 
    to seal the hole with necromatic energy. He snarls with contempt at Rhysor the Demon Emperor as he begins to 
    regain consciousness. As the demon stands, both he and Theophilus look up at the grand staircase which has 
    been constructed, the beginning of the Temple of the Sect of the Unspeakable.

    You walk up.

    You have changed the environment of the room.
    This room is now indoors.

    A grand obsidian spiral staircase.

    Kryss rubs her nose.

    Kryss Miyumae says, "Wells..."

    Kryss chews idly on the corpse of a black rat.

    You discern that you are standing in the Temple of the Sect of the Unspeakable.
    Your environment conforms to that of Indoors.
    You are in the Prime Material Plane.
    You have explored 100% of this area.

    Reality bends to your will as the room's appearance is reformed.

    A grand obsidian spiral staircase. (road).
    This staircase has been constructed of finely polished obsidian blocks which have been cut to proportinate 
    size and inlaid perfectly flush, and it ascends in an impressive manner almost further than the eye can see. 
    The steps lead to the entrance of the Temple of the Sect of the Unspeakable, the door barely visisble from the 
    ground. An eerie glow emanates from a magnanimous obsidian pillar around which the stairs spiral, and the 
    staircase is void of all other light from the outside as no windows are present on the blackened walls 
    surrounding the steps. The occasional whisper can be heard as one ascends the stairs to reach the entrance to 
    the temple, the sound broken only by softened footsteps against the obsidian stones. Along the walls of the 
    staircase are various glyphs of an unknown origin which are only just noticable, the symbols glowing faintly 
    upon one's touch. At the top of the staircase above the ornate door are the words carved in an archaic script, 
    'THE TEMPLE OF THE SECT OF THE UNSPEAKABLE.' Small traces of light reflect upon the surface of the obsidian 
    armour of a Deathknight's hound. An inky-black fell pony stands here, eyes intent upon the horizon. Stamping 
    his golden hooves and tossing his crimson mane, this blooded warhorse stands here bearing a regal strength. 
    There are 3 ravenous hounds here. Uhtred is riding on a downy black ostrich. He wields a strong broadsword in 
    his left hand. Abigail Murne, Harbinger of the Damned is here, her incorporeal form ever-shifting. She wields 
    a bloodied battleaxe of colossal proportion in her left hand and the ebony blade of the Harbinger in her right.
     Kryss Miyumae is here, a soft glow of a multi-coloured aura surrounding her. She wields a mithril shield in 
    her left hand and a guardian angel Celani doll in her right. Initiate Chesira is here. She wields a chain 
    wrapped tower shield in her left hand and an azure and amethyst wyvern wolf broadsword in her right.
    You see exits leading up and down.

    In a voice marked by flanging reverberation, Abigail Murne, Harbinger of the Damned says to you, "Well done, 
    Imperator. Those of the Revenants that choose to partake in the Unspeakable will undoubtedly benefit from such 
    a magnificent work of artifice."
    Abigail quickly closes the bevor of her plate helm.
     
    Chesira nods her head in agreement.
    (Ring): Lartus says, "I heard Theophilus once threw a grenade and killed ten people."
    (Ring): Lartus says, "Then it exploded."

    (Ring): Zsetsu says, "Everyone's playing checkers, but Theophilus is playing chess."
  • MathiausMathiaus Pennsylvania
    I like missing fun things apparently n
    image
  • Mathiaus said:
    I like missing fun things apparently n
    I kinda just wrote it up in 20 mins and did it to have something to do while I'm out of work.

    Sorry, buddy.
    (Ring): Lartus says, "I heard Theophilus once threw a grenade and killed ten people."
    (Ring): Lartus says, "Then it exploded."

    (Ring): Zsetsu says, "Everyone's playing checkers, but Theophilus is playing chess."
  • CelestineCelestine Wisconsin
    Antioch and Ithaqua hosted a Gala Appreciation Event. Instead of posting the entire hour and fifteen minute log - I wanted to post the winners of prizes and give a shout out to those who attended.

    Dance Contest Winners (25 credits)
    Antioch: @Khizan
    Ithaqua: @Iyrandar

    Drinking Contest Winners (50 credits)
    Antioch: @Shou
    Ithaqua: @Assiminik

    Costume Contest Winners (75 credits)
    Antioch: @Ultrix
    Ithaqua: @Luciia

    100 Credit Raffle
    First Draw: @Amaris
    Second Draw: @Wazulli

    150 Credit Raffle
    First Draw: @Csea
    Second Draw: @Seneca

    Thank you to everyone who participated in the event - whether it be buying a mask or giving ideas. @Larkin and I greatly appreciated it.

    Until the next event! :)
    image
  • IniarIniar Australia
    Post the best bits... curate it a little for us. Curious.
    wit beyond measure is a Sidhe's greatest treasure

  • Theophilus motions toward an ebony glass-topped table and says, "Please, sit, if you wish."

    You take a seat at an ebony glass-topped table.

    Lord Ario Nessaja, the Gravewalker says to you, "In my slumber, I lost my collection of houses, or I would 
    have invited you to one of them."

    Ario nods his head.

    You say to Ario, "The Chancellor informed me of such. I am sorry they were repossessed."

    Lord Ario Nessaja, the Gravewalker says, "It is fine. They were not being used."

    Lord Ario Nessaja, the Gravewalker says, "I am still seeking a place of power to establish the House of the 
    Nessaja, and my home in Kragge remains intact, so I am not homeless as of yet."

    Ario looks thoughtfully at a House token's profile, pondering the situation.
     
    Lord Ario Nessaja, the Gravewalker says, "Anyhow.."

    Your eyes sparkle with amusement.

    Theophilus taps an ebony glass-topped table lightly and says, "Won't you sit here?"

    Ario takes a seat next to you at an ebony glass-topped table.

    His mouth turning downward into a frown, Theophilus says, "Usually I offer my guests drinks, 
    but I am afraid my cups decayed as I rarely entertain these days."
     
    Theophilus peers across the balcony into the courtyard below and says, "When other guests 
    arrive to speak, I will be sure to have something ready."

    Theophilus shifts his glance back to Ario and says, "The Republic of Stavenn. I am assuming 
    that you being a Nessaja, this does not sit well with you. It did not with Lord Ihsan nor Lady Lixan."

    Ario admires the view, while plucking a few stray feathers from his cloak, he responds, "To resume, the 
    Nessaja are a merchant house originally, and their Nobility within the Empire is something that came later in 
    the bloodline. While I appreciate the history of the Empire, I have always felt the need for us, as a culture, 
    to evolve beyond the trappings of yesteryear."

    You say to Ario, "I agree wholeheartedly with your last statement. Progress is necessary. To remain stagnant 
    is to wither and die, don't you agree?"

    You secure your previously wielded item and instantly draw a personal journal into your left hand.

    Theophilus places a personal journal delicately upon an ebony glass-topped table and opens it.
    Theophilus begins to write for a moment before setting aside his quill and glancing back at you, saying, "And 
    what do you think of the referendum to become a Republic, Lord Ario?"

    Theophilus smirks and continues, "And I do hope that my status as Imperator will not cause 
    you to hold anything back. I want your sincere opinion."

    Lord Ario Nessaja, the Gravewalker says, "I am not active enough to vote, nor am I active enough to cause 
    trouble for the referendum, so I have no choice but to be honest with you on this - perhaps more honest than 
    most. I have nothing to bet on here, it seems."

    A slight smile graces his lips and Theophilus peers at you with fully-dilated pupils, your 
    reflection swirling within them, as he awaits continuance.

    Lord Ario Nessaja, the Gravewalker says to you, "I have always held the opinion that, outside of earlier 
    actions in Imperial History, we have not exhibited the traditional trappings of an Empire. We have held the 
    title because it suited us, but we are no longer anything similar to the Empire that held the townes of 
    Khandava, or who lorded over the lands of Antioch, or even that which dominated Kinsarmar during Lord Ihsan's 
    tenure as Imperator."

    Lord Ario Nessaja, the Gravewalker says, "We are not even the same Stavenn as that which entered this new Age."

    Theophilus nods slowly and scribbles in a personal journal as you speak. He says as he writes,
    "I agree, which is partially my reasoning for the transition. To quote another, 'We are a shadow of our 
    former selves.'"

    Ario brushes the dust off a deceptive cloak of ghosts.

    Glancing across the balcony at the treeline below, Theophilus remarks quietly, "Truth does 
    not always come in the form of flattery, I am afraid. A good thing, perhaps. Regardless, we are indeed no 
    longer a true Empire. We do not claim dominance over Aetherius as we used to."

    Lord Ario Nessaja, the Gravewalker says, "Do we need to?"

    Theophilus smiles in amusement and says, "I am not sure that we do at this point. I would 
    rather conquer ourselves internally first. We have much improvement to do within the city, and conquering the 
    rest of Aetherius is simply a distraction."

    Ario raises an eyebrow at the Imperator as he leans forward in his seat, "If we are a shadow of former selves, 
    does that not lend us strength instead of weakness? A shadow can grow within, as well as without."

    Theophilus ponders for a moment and responds, "I suppose you are correct, Lord Ario. We are 
    more than combatants seeking to spread flame and spill blood. We are merchants, artisans, ritualists and 
    scholars, among many other things. I have always said that."

    Lord Ario Nessaja, the Gravewalker says to you, "In your post, you are asking the older citizens to revoke 
    their higher status in favor of a collected respect for Stavenn's citizens."

    Lord Ario Nessaja, the Gravewalker says, "Well, to clarify my statement, you are asking the leaders of Stavenn 
    to lead from respect rather than fear."

    "All citizens are elite in my mind. Some more elite than others, but we are all of a high status 
    compared to say, the muamrite slaves we have conquered or the horde we slay. Some have just proven their worth 
    more than others and with those ranks come reward. For example, nobility receive two votes as opposed to one 
    if their is a vote to be had. I have not worked out which each rank's privileges will consist of yet, but I 
    will in due time."

    Theophilus nods and responds, "I am indeed asking that. I find that respect from fear rather 
    than respect from loyalty is detrimental in the long term."

    Pondering, you say, "I have heard in the past that Imperators were respected from fear, but highly disliked, 
    as were some nobles. I wish for that to end and I also hope to prevent it in the future."

    Lord Ario Nessaja, the Gravewalker says to you, "Old Stavenn was a place where your might made right. It was a 
    civilization where Lord Ihsan thrived, as did many others."

    You say to Ario, "What do you think of the idea? That we become an aristocracy, all citizens elite, though 
    some having more privileges than others? Plebians do not need to shine my boots as I have the horde to do that.
    Plebians should have the right to request a muamrite slave from the desert to shine their boots just as I 
    should."

    You say to Ario, "Indeed, you are correct. If that were the case now, I would not be Imperator. I have some 
    degree of might on the field of battle, but I am not in the top combatants. I die often, and usually first. I 
    do have political savvy and the respect of the people as I am a quite amicable person. A strange 
    characteristic for an Imperator, amicability, but as you stated, we are in a new age."

    Lord Ario Nessaja, the Gravewalker says, "I believe that if we foster the idea that our citizenry is the pride 
    of the realm then we will produce citizens that are the pride of the realm. This will take a unified effort 
    from the leadership, as well as the guilds, to invoke this within our citizens."

    Nodding in agreement, Theophilus intones, "Yes, yes. I do agree. And -then- we may again 
    conquer the realms, when it is time and the necessity is there. Until then, I would like to improve our 
    infrastructure, both of the city and the townes. That is hard to do when you are warring with the rest of the 
    realm, even if we were capable at this point."

    You have emoted: Scribbling in his journal, Theophilus murmurs something inaudible before closing it with a 
    sharp snap. "I am afraid I must end the meeting, unless you have anything more pressing. I must say, however, 
    I am surprised to have your support rather than your reprimand."
     
    Lord Ario Nessaja, the Gravewalker says, "Why is that, Imperator?"

    Ario stands up from an ebony glass-topped table.

    Theophilus scratches his chin and says, "Well, you always struck me as the type to hold to 
    the old ways, and to seek to conquer over all else. Furthermore, you are a Nessaja, and Lord Ihsan is the only 
    other one I know."

    You stand up from an ebony glass-topped table.

    You cease wielding a personal journal in your left hand.

    You give Ario a firm handshake.

    You say to Ario, "It has been a pleasure speaking with you. I believe this is the first conversation of 
    substance we have had and I do hope you wake more often."

    ----moving to the nobility area for crackers with pate and then the bar for a shot.

    Motioning at Filand, the Bartender, Theophilus says, "Tequila. Two."

    You pay 70 sovereigns and receive two tequila shots.

    Lord Ario Nessaja, the Gravewalker says, "Ah, drinks."

    You give a tequila shot to Ario.

    Lord Ario Nessaja, the Gravewalker says, "It has been too long."
     
    You give a cracker slathered with pate to Ario.

    Ario ponders the situation.

    You secure your previously wielded items and instantly draw a cracker slathered with pate into your left hand, 
    with a tequila shot flowing into your right hand.

    Lord Ario Nessaja, the Gravewalker says to you, "What shall we toast?"

    Raising a tequila shot in the air, Theophilus says loudly, "To the new Age. To the Republic 
    of Stavenn!"

    You raise your drink to Ario and give him a lively "Cheers!"

    Ario raises his drink in unison, before downing it in a quick gulp.

    You tilt your head back and slam the tequila, squinting your eyes as it burns its way down your throat.

    You eat a cracker slathered with pate with gusto.

    Ario eats a cracker slathered with pate with obvious gusto.

    Theophilus wipes the crumbs of a cracker slathered with pate off of the robes of the 
    Imperator and says, "The perks of being a noble."

    Ario smiles wryly, a look of amusement passing over his features.

    You smile impishly and say, "Republic or not, Nobles will always get the crackers."
    (Ring): Lartus says, "I heard Theophilus once threw a grenade and killed ten people."
    (Ring): Lartus says, "Then it exploded."

    (Ring): Zsetsu says, "Everyone's playing checkers, but Theophilus is playing chess."

  • Torture Chambers.
    The same black marble streaked with iron ore that forms the walls of the Iudicatus Castigatio forms the large 
    brazier that sits in the center of the room, holding the flames and firebrands used in any number of painful 
    tasks. The dark stone floor is covered with rushes that absorb the blood from the victims. The rushes are 
    constantly changed by the Iudicatus Castigatio slaves, who are often also forced to clean the messes left 
    behind from the bowels of unlucky victims. The room, despite its uses, remains immaculately clean, the slaves 
    knowing that they too might endure the torturous devices should they displease the Inquisitioners. Gibbets 
    line the walls, some still filled with unlucky victims, covered in tar and struggling to breathe, others 
    filled with decaying bones from past captives. A ladder rack stands against the wall here. A thin parchment 
    scroll has been tacked to a far wall. A long iron rod with an unusual symbol on the end lies here. A garrotte 
    device sits quietly awaiting its next victim. An Iron Maiden stands here with its door slightly ajar. A 
    strange chair covered in holes sits here. A small silvery stone is here, surrounded in haze. Sodden mane 
    tangled in wild reeds and cattails, a kelpie stallion lurks here with baleful opalescent eyes. A black 
    ouroboros oscillates endlessly here, staring at you with its many eyes. An obsidian halberd at the ready, an 
    executioner stands here, his eyes gleaming with an eerie greed. There are 2 elite Wytch flesh menders here. 
    Resembling a ghoulish statue, a Xiur shielder stands here, the writhing slaves lashed to his shield chittering 
    insanely to passersby. There are 2 elite Diavlous Knights here. There are 2 elite elegantly dressed Noctusaris 
    here. A plain-looking woman watches the skies, idly testing her bowstring. Lady Raya Aertsen, Blighted Seer is 
    here, her incorporeal form ever-shifting. She wields a strong broadsword in her left hand and a tower shield 
    in her right. Dimorian, Aspect of Sukhder, is here, filling the surroundings with a miasma of fear. He wields 
    a wicked-looking daegger in his left hand. Lord Ario Nessaja, the Gravewalker is here, his incorporeal form 
    ever-shifting. The undead form of Lord Zenigra Tru'ithe, Facet of the Broken Whole is here. He wields a lunar 
    shield in his left hand and a ghoulish sabre of sharpened bone in his right.
    You see a single exit leading north.

    Zenigra secures his previously wielded item and instantly draws a ritual staff of the Ssyran tribe into his 

    Zenigra leans comfortably against a ritual staff of the Ssyran tribe.

    Ario smiles wryly, a look of amusement passing over his features.

    You say, "Plebian Dimorian has graciously agreed to allow Ansol to remember how to use his devices."

    You say to Ansol, the Imperial Executioner, "It has been sometime since you've tortured someone."

    Ansol smiles wryly and says to Theophilus, "Indeed Imperator. I am quite antsy to begin."
    You say, "Plebian Dimorian has graciously agreed to allow Ansol to remember how to use his devices."

    You say to Ansol, the Imperial Executioner, "It has been sometime since you've tortured someone."

    Ansol smiles wryly and says to Theophilus, "Indeed Imperator. I am quite antsy to begin."

    You say to Dimorian, "Are you prepared?"
     
    Ario nods his head at Raya politely.

    Dimorian nods sagely.

    Wraith Dimorian says, "As I will ever be."

    Raya flashes Ario a joyous smile.

    Ansol, the Imperial Executioner says, "The equipment should be set up."
     
    Zenigra wraps his wings about Raya's body, affectionately pulling her close.

    Zenigra leans comfortably against Raya.

    Raya flashes Zenigra a joyous smile.

    You say, "We will begin with the rack."

    Theophilus ponders an executioner's rack with a devious smile.

    Dimorian is pulled to the rack by a couple of the slaves and quickly strapped upon it. His arms and legs 
    firmly bound by leather straps forcing him to flat against the rack.

    Dimorian's muscles lock up in paralysis.

    As the wheel is turned, Dimorian's body is drawn taut upon the rack.

    Theophilus looks at Dimorian with concern and says, "Painful, plebian?"

    Wraith Dimorian says, "A little unpleasant.."

    The resounding 'pop' of Dimorian's knees being pulled from his joints sounds through the room. You smirk as he 
    attempts to stifle the sounds of his pain by biting down on his lip.
    Wraith Dimorian says, "That one hurt.."
     
    Dimorian's cries become howls of pain as you hear his last remaining unbroken limbs torn from their sockets.

    Dimorian's cries fill the air, suddenly turning into howls of pain.
     
    You say to Dimorian, "I imagine that one -really- hurt."
     
    Ario shuffles his feet uneasily.

    Lady Raya Aertsen, Blighted Seer says, "Well, this seems very familiar..."

    Lord Ario Nessaja, the Gravewalker asks Raya, "Practicing on someone lately?"
     
    Two slaves slip in quietly from a side door. One removes the piece of leather from the garrotte and drops it 
    into the basin of water to let it soak while the other pushes Dimorian down into the seat of the garrotte.

    You take a leather strap from a stone basin.

    Ario looks thoughtfully at the executioner's garrotte's profile, pondering the situation.
     
    You put a leather strap into the executioner's garrotte.

    Raya whispers something to Zenigra.
     
    Dimorian seems to enjoy the cool air blowing from the fan, though you notice the edges of the strap around his 
    neck has begun to curl slightly as it dries and a small trickle of blood begins to trail down.

    Dimorian pulls against his wrist restraints in what must be an effort to relieve the pressure around his neck. 
    You see the blood flowing freely beneath the strap and his breathing is short and raspy as his airway is 
    slowly being closed.
     
    Dimorian twists and attempts to turn his body, obviously seeking any sort of relief from the pain he must be 
    enduring. You see him swoon briefly as if he might faint, but he is able to draw in just enough of a breath to 
    ensure he continues to bear the pain being inflicted upon him.

    You say to Dimorian, "Nod if it hurts, since you cannot speak."

    You smile wryly, quite clearly amused.

    Dimorian twitches his head softly in a nodding motion.

    A petite female slave enters quietly and moves to the iron maiden. Undoing the many clasps along one side, she 
    pulls the heavy front panel open.

    A muscular male enters and approaches Dimorian. He grabs him by the arms and drags him to the iron maiden. He 
    quickly throws him inside and slams the door as the female latches all the clasps. With a quick bow the slaves 
    slip out of the room.

    A muted moan mingles with a whirring sound as a click proceeds the first step of the many blades within the 
    iron maiden being released.
     
    Dimorian's screams sound out mightly from within the ironmaiden as a pool of blood begins to form quickly 
    beneath the device.

    Screams sound through the city, the cries muted yet poignant with pain and suffering.

    A well-toned slave enters and pulls Dimorian into the confessional chair and quickly straps his ankles and 
    wrists down firmly. Before walking away, the slave sets a skullcrusher into place around his head.

    Dimorian inhales sharply as the first screw pierces his skin.

    Dimorian cries out as the screws are twisted into his flesh and he begins to bleed profusely.
     
    Hot coals are pressed to the bottom of Dimorian's feet causing him to buck in the chair. The sound of his 
    flesh tearing echoes loudly through the room, diminished only by his screams of agony which are cut short as 
    he falls unconscious.

    Dimorian's screams of agony rise through the city, when they suddenly cease, the ensuing silence ominous.
     
    Dimorian suddenly regains consciousness.

    You say to Dimorian, "He must remember to slay his victims, plebian. I apologize."

    Dimorian tilts his head curiously.

    Lord Zenigra Tru'ithe, Facet of the Broken Whole says, "He merely passed out."

    You say to Dimorian, "Death by hanging or beheading?"

    You say to Zenigra, "For now."
     
    You say, "Raya may animate him if we hang him."

    Lord Zenigra Tru'ithe, Facet of the Broken Whole says to Dimorian, "If it counts, hanging is much more fun to 
    watch."
     
    Zenigra leans comfortably against Raya.

    Wraith Dimorian says, "Thieves are hung.. I'd rather a quicker alternative please."

    Lord Ario Nessaja, the Gravewalker says to Zenigra, "I agree."

    Raya's eyes sparkle with amusement at Zenigra.

    Ario begins to follow you.

    You say to Dimorian, "You will not be able to be resurrected. Though your time with Charon is short."

    Dimorian nods sagely.

    Lady Raya Aertsen, Blighted Seer says to Dimorian, "Be sure to tell him hello for me."

    You say, "Come north."

    Ario urges you onwards.

    Raya leaves to the north following Zenigra.

    You shuffle a card out of your deck and the image of the High Priestess appears on its surface.
    You quickly fling a card with the image of the High Priestess at Dimorian.
    The High Priestess tarot instantly expands and moves downward until Dimorian's entire body has been passed 
    through it.

    Wraith Dimorian asks, "I need to heal now?"

    You nod your head.

    Dimorian stands up and stretches his arms out wide.

    You walk north.
    Ario and Dimorian follow you to the north.
    The Forum Exsequor.
    A tall case made from onyx stands center room, its panels of glass glinting from the slightest light. 
    Presiding with fearful dominance over the surroundings is the frightful form of the executioner's gallows, 
    ropes swinging with mocking implication of disobedience to the Empire. A small silvery stone is here, 
    surrounded in haze. A large slate stone stands ominously, riddled with dark crimson stains and sharp slashed 
    gouges riddling its surface. A thin parchment scroll has been tacked to a far wall. Lady Raya Aertsen, 
    Blighted Seer is here, her incorporeal form ever-shifting. She wields a strong broadsword in her left hand and 
    a tower shield in her right. The undead form of Lord Zenigra Tru'ithe, Facet of the Broken Whole is here. He 
    wields a ritual staff of the Ssyran tribe in his hands.
    You see exits leading north and south.

    Zenigra gives Raya a peck on the cheek.

    Dimorian nods his head.

    Exuding confidence and power, Ansol, the Imperial Executioner enters from the south, closing the door behind 
    him.

    The Executioner grabs Dimorian and pulls him to the block, forcing him down as he presses his neck into the 
    concaved surface of the block.
     
    Ansol, the Imperial Executioner says, "If you have any last words to speak, do so now."

    Dimorian's muscles lock up in paralysis.

    You say to Dimorian, "Any last words?"

    Wraith Dimorian says, "I regret nothing."

    You applaud Dimorian wholeheartedly.

    Zenigra's eyes sparkle with amusement.
     
    You say, "Well said."

    Ario smiles wryly, a look of amusement passing over his features.

    Ansol, the Imperial Executioner pulls a black hood over his face before leaning down, eye to eye with the 
    victim and whispers something to him.

    Ansol, the Imperial Executioner stands up and moving into place alongside the block, he lifts his halberd high 
    and with one rapid slash of the blade severs Dimorian's head.
    Ansol, the Imperial Executioner has slain Dimorian.
     
    Zenigra's features become shadowed as he pulls a black leather hood over his head.
    (Ring): Lartus says, "I heard Theophilus once threw a grenade and killed ten people."
    (Ring): Lartus says, "Then it exploded."

    (Ring): Zsetsu says, "Everyone's playing checkers, but Theophilus is playing chess."
  • edited May 2015
    This is absolutely silly and I don't even care. Finally got some rp <3

    Tiger's Eye Tavern
    [Me, Evie, Ferriter][Iniar]

    You nod your acknowledgement of Ferriter.
    Putting an unlit churata into his mouth, you say, "Lots of trouble."
    Evie Melloryn says, "I wouldn't mind a sip. It's been a long time since I've drank so
    much I was drunk."
    You lick your lips.
    With a sharp exhalation of breath, Ferriter flops himself down on the ground.
    Enigmatic Blackthorn, Ferriter Lorianis, Kaze'Ogama says, "And now I am dead."
    Evie tilts her head curiously at Ferriter.
    Fill glass with wine spam
    Examining the glass, you say, "That looks like about a sip.."
    Enigmatic Blackthorn, Ferriter Lorianis, Kaze'Ogama says to Evie, "Just drank more in
    that second then I have in about eight decades."
    You grin mischievously at Ferriter.
    Evie gives a trillingly melodic laugh.
    Enigmatic Blackthorn, Ferriter Lorianis, Kaze'Ogama says, "Really more like decade and a half."
    "Ahah!" Iniar exclaims triumphantly.
    Enigmatic Blackthorn, Ferriter Lorianis, Kaze'Ogama says, "Most of my decades."
    Ferriter flops himself into Iniar's arms, sending him crashing to the ground.
    Iniar tickles Evie mercilessly!
    Iniar grins mischievously.
    You ask Ferriter, "Fishing sandwich turtledove?"
    Evie flashes Iniar a joyous smile.
    Iniar Nullheart, the Onion Knight says, "Samwich."
    Evie Melloryn says to Iniar, "Hi to you too!"
    You laughingly say, "Octupus snakeskin eggs."
    Evie Melloryn says, "That sounds unappetizing."
    Enigmatic Blackthorn, Ferriter Lorianis, Kaze'Ogama says to you, "Flying waffle wiggle sauce."
    Iniar Nullheart, the Onion Knight says, "Jellyfish feathered oil."
    Evie Melloryn says, "I'm officially lost."
    You have emoted: Oystir balls a hand and gently, playfully prods Ferriter with it, as
    he says, still laughing, "Sandstorm chocolate-cake oytsers bananas!"
    You utter a deep, rumbling laugh.
    You say to Ferriter, "But yeah. Wouldn't it be funny if you were that drunk?"
    Iniar Nullheart, the Onion Knight says, "Lightning-infused confetti'd shrimp?"
    You raise an eyebrow questioningly.
    Iniar shrugs helplessly.
    Enigmatic Blackthorn, Ferriter Lorianis, Kaze'Ogama says, "Screaming lettuce truffle tosser."
    Iniar Nullheart, the Onion Knight says, "I thought we were talking about things that make us happy."
    You say to Iniar, "That was unmistakably a description of myself."
    Iniar giggles happily.
    Evie smiles wryly, a look of amusement passing over her features.
    Iniar Nullheart, the Onion Knight says, "Whitewashed potato skin."
    You have emoted: Oystir flutters his gills in appreciation.
    Iniar nods sagely.
    Iniar points accusingly at himself.
    Enigmatic Blackthorn, Ferriter Lorianis, Kaze'Ogama says, "That sounds like an insult."
    Enigmatic Blackthorn, Ferriter Lorianis, Kaze'Ogama says, "Truffle tosser."
    Iniar grins mischievously.
    Iniar Nullheart, the Onion Knight says to Ferriter, "You truffle tosser."
    You say, "Turtle tucker?"
    You say, "Treant tickler?"
    Iniar Nullheart, the Onion Knight says, "Toothy taster."
    Evie Melloryn says, "Oh my."
    Enigmatic Blackthorn, Ferriter Lorianis, Kaze'Ogama says, "I think you have to be
    full of bull**** to be a truffle tosser."
    You say, "Tinkle Taker."
    Iniar grins mischievously at you.
    Grinning also, you say, "This is fun."
    Enigmatic Blackthorn, Ferriter Lorianis, Kaze'Ogama says, "You only have to be full of booze for that one."
    Iniar Nullheart, the Onion Knight says, "Tart twists."
    Enigmatic Blackthorn, Ferriter Lorianis, Kaze'Ogama says, "Treant tickler!"
    Iniar grins mischievously at Ferriter.
    You snicker softly to yourself.
    You say to Iniar, "That's what we used to call you."
    Iniar giggles happily.
    Iniar Nullheart, the Onion Knight says, "Now I'm a Tornado Tussler."
    Enigmatic Blackthorn, Ferriter Lorianis, Kaze'Ogama says, "From this day forward all
    defillers will now be known as Treant ticklers!"
    You have emoted: Oystir cannot stand his giggles, and covers his mouth with both
    hands as he issues high-pitched titters and sinks back against a wall.
    Iniar pats you in a friendly manner.
    Iniar drifts away from the conversation, lost in his daydreams.
    You have emoted: Oystir draws deep breaths and wipes the back of his mouth with one
    hand, careful to replant the churata there.
    You say, "Oh my."
    You brush your hair aside.
    Enigmatic Blackthorn, Ferriter Lorianis, Kaze'Ogama says, "We will be like "ha ha ha
    ha ha you silly TT's"."
    "Ummmm," you say uncertainly.
    Evie Melloryn says, "You three are quite silly."
    Enigmatic Blackthorn, Ferriter Lorianis, Kaze'Ogama says to you, "No?"
    You say to Ferriter, "Personally, I enjoy a fine couple of TT's when the opportunity arises."
    Evie smiles wryly, a look of amusement
    passing over her features.
    You say, "I would hate to soil that with uh, Defliers or Demonickers or whatever profession.."
    Ferriter ponders the situation.
    Enigmatic Blackthorn, Ferriter Lorianis, Kaze'Ogama says, "Fair point."
    You nod solemnly.
     You say, "This is much harder than just being a normal person."
  • I really kind of want to interact with this new entity. They sound like a lot of fun!
    image
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