I had a feeling that was going to happen a few days ago when we were testing his absolver, but I thought to myself "I won't need to remind him, he can't be that bad..."
anyway:
City of Kinsarmar: Iluv has vortexed Shukron into the Demonic Realm to be callously torn apart by horrific fiends.
City of Kinsarmar: Dicene has been crushed to death by Ziat.
Though too far away to accurately perceive details, you see that Ziat is in the City of Kinsarmar.
Menoch - Nearing a small path in [545] - City of Kinsarmar.
(Ring): You say, "Portal -> Menoch."
-=-= Portal Forming (6s) =-=-
....
-=-= Portal is UP =-=-
Mathiaus emerges into the room from ether.
A massive net flies in from the south, entangling itself about Mathiaus and he falls to the ground unable to move.
A cannon ball races in from the south, rips through Mathiaus's body, and streaks northward.
A cannon ball races in from the south, rips through Mathiaus's body, and streaks northward.
You see a huge rock flying in the skies above you.
You see a huge rock flying in the skies above you.
You see a huge rock flying in the skies above you.
A massive wooden bolt flies in from the north, impaling Mathiaus directly through the chest, lifting him off his feet.
Impaled on a massive wooden bolt, Mathiaus sails away to the south.
A cannon ball races in from the north and streaks southward.
Ithaquan Council: Mathiaus has been killed by an elite Warden lancer.
I had a feeling that was going to happen a few days ago when we were testing his absolver, but I thought to myself "I won't need to remind him, he can't be that bad..."
Susser tells you, "And you can verify it works yourself anyway, so there's no need!" You tell Susser, "Yeah, but where am I going to find four children at this time of night?" Susser tells you, "Probably the same place you're getting the hot air balloon from."
I am the righteous one... the claims are stated - it's the world I've created
Hastati, Oracle of Conquest says to you, "We will have to roll you out onto the battle grounds and shove you down a hill. Our foes will be squashed in citrus deliciousness."
Hastati, Oracle of Conquest says to you, "We will have to roll you out onto the battle grounds and shove you down a hill. Our foes will be squashed in citrus deliciousness."
"On the battlefield I am a god. I love war. The steel, the smell, the corpses. I wish there were more. On the first day I drove the Northmen back alone at the ford. Alone! On the second I carried the bridge! Me! Yesterday I climbed the Heroes! I love war! I… I wish it wasn’t over."
Message #1777 Sent By: (imperian) Received On: 2/11/2013/16:29
"A brown bear has been rejected for the following reason: Please do not capitalize the first letter of the appearance unless it is a proper noun. Please do not add any punctuation to the appearance, as it is not a complete sentence. Please do not describe your bear as Whinny the Pooh..
Whinny? I think Winnie is correct. But why should that be an issue? If we can have starks, greyjoys, and mango-colored icewyrms, what the issue with my southern bear wearing a red sweater and enjoying his pot of honey?
This basilisk has a silhouette unlike any of its kind, standing three or four feet tall and covered in lumpy, dark grey skin with silver stripes running across its back. It is bipedal, with bright yellow eyes, skinny limbs and a thick, long tail; raven-black feathers stretch from its clawed forehands to its shoulders. Its hind legs end in wickedly taloned feet, the foremost claw curved into a sharp, massive scythe.
I have a goddamned velociraptor and you can't have a bear wearing a sweater?
For reference, and much thanks for Kanthari for the inspiration:
A tawny bear in a red sweater is here, eating a pot of honey.
Sitting on his haunches, this golden-colored bear smells sweetly of honey. Obviously not suited for the northern climates where he prowls, a red sweater has been placed over the chest of the bear. The bear has a gentle presence, and all he seems interested in is the pot of honey that has been hung around his neck by a strap of leather.
For reference, and much thanks for Kanthari for the inspiration:
A tawny bear in a red sweater is here, eating a pot of honey.
Sitting on his haunches, this golden-colored bear smells sweetly of honey. Obviously not suited for the northern climates where he prowls, a red sweater has been placed over the chest of the bear. The bear has a gentle presence, and all he seems interested in is the pot of honey that has been hung around his neck by a strap of leather.
And for my next parlor trick:
A blue hawk perches here, tweeting to the world.
I megaloathe you.
Someone powerful says, "Its broken. No more pulling the guillotine."
(Ring): Darin says, "Menoch tells you, "Took your time noting it, area'd been clear for quite some time. You'll both die for it, and for your presumptuous attitude in thinking that you can speak to me so. Do us both a favor, and stop talking before I have more reasons to slaughter you and your stupid little friends.""
Menoch's starting to remind me of Dong Zhuo from the Dynasty Warriors series.
‘Least I won’t have to carry it no more. You see how bloody heavy it is?’
‘Every sword’s a weight to carry. Men don’t see that when they pick ’em up. But they get heavier with time.”
"lynx2" a spotted lynx "hare79406" a skittish snowshoe hare "crow224446" a dark crow "wolverine226482" a fierce wolverine "gyrfalcon227159" a graceful gyrfalcon "leopard227199" an elusive snow leopard
You pay 30 sovereigns and receive a double shot glass.
You give a double shot glass to Milite Kyriae Dios.
You give a double shot glass to Milite Kyriae Dios.
You say, "What wouuld you like for me to tell yyou about? I am feeling quite chatty."
You drain the last drops of vodka from a Soul Stealer.
You take a deep breath before emptying the glass into your awaiting mouth. Almost instantly, you lose your breath and shiver as you feel your entire body become cold as a corpse.'
With a hiccup you regain your breath, your lips parting as the last vestiges of freezing fog leave you.
You have emoted: Dicey swallows hard and walks in a slow circle around the bar. "Maybe over chess, I can tell you stories."
Filand, the Bartender casts a glance to a ssylsin death dancer and mutters, "She thinks she's one upping me with those fancy drinks and food she's got there."
A ssylsin death dancer says, "Ah! Let me show you what I have!"
drumstick178243: a jumbo, smoked turkey drumstick 50 100gp
skull196612: dark amber rum (skull of Holy Water) 50 100gp
bread229517: a Trevkan honeybread 50 150gp
goblet239803: vodka (Red Death) 50 75gp
To buy something, BUY <thing> FROM SSYLSIN.
You say to Filand, the Bartender, "I woyld hardly say so!"
You say, "Except.."
[ Bought a Red Death]
Kyriae's mouth turns up as her face breaks into a smile.
Filand, the Bartender's eyes twinkle enchantingly.
Filand, the Bartender looks about himself, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
You look about yourself, rubbing your chin thoughtfully.
Filand, the Bartender looks reflectively at you, rubbing his chin in thought.
You look reflectively at Filand, the Bartender, rubbing your chin in thought.
You drain the last drops of vodka from a Soul Stealer.
You take a deep breath before emptying the glass into your awaiting mouth. Almost instantly, you lose your breath and shiver as you feel your entire body become cold as a corpse.
With a hiccup you regain your breath, your lips parting as the last vestiges of freezing fog leave you.
You say, "Wwwhat is ow yyour mind, Filand dear?"
Filand, the Bartender chuckles long and heartily.
You clear your throat.
Kyriae grins mischievously.
Kyriae takes a large gulp of whiskey.
Kyriae tilts back her head and slams a shot of whiskey.
You say, "LikelY nnot a bowl oi Vodka, aS I havee."
Your eyes sparkle with amusement.
Kyriae gives a trillingly melodic laugh.
Filand, the Bartender snickers softly to himself.
Filand, the Bartender says, "Nay. Not a bowl of vodka."
Your eyes sparkle with amusement.
You open a sleek black satchel.
You take a hand rolled churata cigar from a sleek black satchel.
You quickly light up a hand rolled churata cigar.
Balance Taken: 1.80s
The end of your churata glows brightly as you bring it to your lips and take a drag, filling your lungs with the smooth, rich smoke.
Lowering the churata, you exhale creating a train of small smoke rings that float lazily up into the air.
Filand, the Bartender exclaims, "That must be the life. Young and healthy!"
Filand, the Bartender chuckles long and heartily.
You say, "One does tend to xtay frEsh when they falg dead monthly."
Filand, the Bartender utters a deep, rumbling laugh.
You say, "A renewing batp of Dis *hic* for thee senses."
You sway to and fro.
Filand, the Bartender says, "I can't say my death would be good for business."
Kyriae chuckles into her shot.
You have emoted: Dicey sidesteps, quite carefully, to the bar, where she sinks into the barstool.
Balance Taken: 1.00s
You take a seat next to Kyriae at a polished oak bar.
You say, "It wouhld bbe a tragedy."
You say to Filand, the Bartender, "She puts -jkhice- in -all- of her liquhoor."
You curl your nose up and grimace awfully.
The end of your churata glows brightly as you bring it to your lips and take a drag, filling your lungs with the smooth, rich smoke.
Kyriae peers about herself unscrupulously.
Lowering the churata, you exhale creating a train of small smoke rings that float lazily up into the air.
You ask Kyriae, "Anothez for yOu, MilIve?"
Filand, the Bartender's eyes twinkle enchantingly.
You say, "Mil-ite."
You nod sagely.
You drain the last drops of vodka from a Soul Stealer.
You take a deep breath before emptying the glass into your awaiting mouth. Almost instantly, you lose your breath and shiver as you feel your entire body become cold as a corpse.
With a hiccup you regain your breath, your lips parting as the last vestiges of freezing fog leave you.
Filand, the Bartender says, "The best liquor is the kind that is just liquor."
Kyriae looks about herself, rubbing her chin thoughtfully.
Milite Kyriae Dios says, "I have to rUhnn ouut for a few mgnuutes."
Your eyes sparkle with amusement.
Milite Kyriae Dios says, "Will you be heree ffor a while?"
Filand, the Bartender says, "I'm always here."
Filand, the Bartender squints suspiciously at his surroundings.
Your eyes sparkle with amusement.
Kyriae grins mischievously.
Filand, the Bartender peers about himself unscrupulously.
Filand, the Bartender says, "Some people should be drinking more."
You say, "U tHink I have had enough for now. I should tot like to make a debacle.
You wrinkle your nose and sniff.
Filand, the Bartender snickers softly to himself.
The end of your churata glows brightly as you bring it to your lips and take a drag, filling your lungs with the smooth, rich smoke.
The churata burns away to nothing and goes out.
Lowering the churata, you exhale creating a train of small smoke rings that float lazily up into the air.
Kyriae gives a trillingly melodic laugh.
Filand, the Bartender says, "The universe is conspiring."
Filand, the Bartender says, "Against your excesses."
Filand, the Bartender shakes his head sadly.
You take a slender rolled churata from a sleek black satchel.
You close a sleek black satchel.
You quickly light up a slender rolled churata.
Balance Taken: 1.80s
Drawing in a long, smoke-filled breath, you say, "Ahhhh."
The end of your churata glows brightly as you bring it to your lips and take a drag, filling your lungs with the smooth, rich smoke.
Lowering the churata, you exhale creating a train of small smoke rings that float lazily up into the air.
Your eyes sparkle with amusement.
Filand, the Bartender snickers softly to himself.
Kyriae stretches languidly.
Kyriae stands up from a polished oak bar.
Filand, the Bartender says to you, "How is life treating you, Ephora?"
Milite Kyriae Dios says, "I won't be gone long. Thank yyou for everytHilg."
Kyriae inclines her head respectfully.
Kyriae grows still and her lips begin to move silently.
Filand, the Bartender gives Kyriae an acknowledging nod.
You say, "Oh, Filand, dear, it is buusy.. The Cit *hic* yy has really taken an uppswiNg in years past."
You say to Kyriae, "Go Well."
Filand, the Bartender says, "An upswing! That's exciting."
Kyriae drops a cracker slathered with pate.
Kyriae is enveloped in translucent fire for a moment and is gone, her soul safe until she returns to Imperian.
You say, "The floor is wwhere those nAsty crackers belong. With lhNir put-ttay instead off chE *hic* ese llike a self-respecting cracke *hic* R."
TRANSLATE: The floor is where those nasty crackers belong. With their put-tay instead of cheese like a self-respecting cracker
Filand, the Bartender utters a deep, rumbling laugh.
You wrinkle your nose disfavourably.
Filand, the Bartender says, "Usually, this being a barroom and all, I hear mostly complaints."
You gulp down vodka, wetting your palate.
Filand, the Bartender says, "Don't know why people come here in attempt not to be sad."
You say, "A fool uoes not kn *hic* ow thhat emotion cannn onlyy Be repplacEdd with ahother emotion. The dogfigHtS would surely bee more fitting for a bout of depresssion."
You say, "..or the desert. The desert is always eR - *hic* nicb."
You hiccup suddenly.
Filand, the Bartender grins mischievously.
You gulp down vodka, wetting your palate.
Filand, the Bartender peers about himself unscrupulously.
Filand, the Bartender says, "Some people should be drinking more."
Filand, the Bartender peers about himself unscrupulously.
You say, "I aappreciiate the ihougght, Filannd, butt I cnuhldd noot poossibly drink more."
Filand, the Bartender exclaims, "Your limits are your limits!"
You say, "I kvow I am holdvng my liquor so well thaT yOuh would hhardly know I had consumed any.."
You giggle happily.
Filand, the Bartender says, "I barely noticed."
You nod sagely.
Filand, the Bartender nods sagely.
Your eyes sparkle with amusement.
The end of your churata glows brightly as you bring it to your lips and take a drag, filling your lungs with the smooth, rich smoke.
Lowering the churata, you exhale creating a train of small smoke rings that float lazily up into the air.
Filand, the Bartender says, "It seems quite busy these months."
Filand, the Bartender says, "Few come to stay here, and when they do they are covered in blood and guts."
You say, "Ow yyes.. Some plaguue or hnother has been aboUt lateely, with those ruddy sha *hic* rds falling of t *hic* he sky every month, and the ppredominant cunt of the city haas been raising beliefs."
Your eyes raise to the heavens as a look of hope flashes across your face.
Filand, the Bartender coughs softly.
You fumble about drunkenly.
Filand, the Bartender says, "I will assume you meant cult, this is my first clue you are less than sober."
You say, "WhaTever do you mean?"
The end of your churata glows brightly as you bring it to your lips and take a drag, filling your lungs with the smooth, rich smoke.
The churata burns away to nothing and goes out.
Lowering the churata, you exhale creating a train of small smoke rings that float lazily up into the air.
Filand, the Bartender exclaims, "The alternative, of course, is that you are the predominant Ephora of the city, and are certain to ensure it stays that way!"
Filand, the Bartender utters a deep, rumbling laugh.
You give a trillingly melodic laugh.
A ssylsin death dancer leans over and whispers something to Filand, giving him a sly wink as she wags her tail contently.
Filand, the Bartender blushes furiously, uttering a deep laugh as he nudges her with an elbow.
You say, "We *hic* ll, it is cerfainlyy one way to have a - er - vice grip upon the cciity."
You have emoted: Dicey covers her grin with her fingers and giggles furiously into them.
Balance Taken: 1.00s
Filand, the Bartender appears to be stifling a hearty laugh.
You say, "A *hic* h, it has been nice to have a momeent wiith youn Filand, but I think I shouLd go hom *hic* e and nap before hxpletives arz the only thIng escaping me."
You stand up from a polished oak bar.
Filand, the Bartender nods sagely.
Filand, the Bartender gives you a respectful salute.
You have nothing in your inventory to "dirksalute".
You are wielding a Soul Stealer in your left hand
You are holding:
a soot-blackened tinderbox, a tiny paw-print badge, a buckler, 9 serpentine pipes, a spyglass, knee-high white stockings, a thick musty tome, 3 embossed silver vialbelts, 34 serpentine vials, 2 iron vials, a drakeskin feedbag, a Salty Dog, the corpse of a rat, 2 corpses of a baby rat, the corpse of a black rat, 6 Soul Stealers, a Red Death.
You are wearing:
an armband bearing Stavenn's crest, a sleek black satchel, an elegant black falconry glove, a quiver, a suit of scale mail, a pack bearing Stavenn's crest, a hornbow, a black cloak lined with wolf fur, a somber mask of Winter, a pair of leather vambraces, a leather helm, a pair of leather greaves, an Imperial ring of the Ephors, a translucent gown of silver silk, a thigh sheath, elaborate silver grey silk slippers, a shadowy scabbard, an earring of silver and wolf tooth, a black leather pack, an Imperial leather kitbag, thin silver-rimmed glasses.
You have 34 types of items in the Rift.
You possess 89 items and are carrying 32 gold sovereigns.
Filand, the Bartender says, "Be well, Ephora."
You peer about yourself unscrupulously.
You have emoted: Dicey salutes with her empty, wielded glass.
Long, sorry. But I don't think it deserves it's own thread.
Comments
You tell Susser, "Yeah, but where am I going to find four children at this time of night?"
Susser tells you, "Probably the same place you're getting the hot air balloon from."
the claims are stated - it's the world I've created
You tell Great Ranger, Ziat Dawnsong, Phoenix Fire, "Ahahaha."
Ziat tells you, "Hush."
You tell Great Ranger, Ziat Dawnsong, Phoenix Fire, "For shame."
Apparently Ziat just really likes purple. ;(
the claims are stated - it's the world I've created
"On the battlefield I am a god. I love war. The steel, the smell, the corpses. I wish there were more. On the first day I drove the Northmen back alone at the ford. Alone! On the second I carried the bridge! Me! Yesterday I climbed the Heroes! I love war! I… I wish it wasn’t over."
As an adult, I've realized that kindergarten Lio had no taste.
the claims are stated - it's the world I've created
A tawny bear in a red sweater is here, eating a pot of honey.
Sitting on his haunches, this golden-colored bear smells sweetly of honey. Obviously not suited for the northern climates where he prowls, a red sweater has been placed over the chest of the bear. The bear has a gentle presence, and all he seems interested in is the pot of honey that has been hung around his neck by a strap of leather.
A blue hawk perches here, tweeting to the world.
(Ring): Darin says, "Menoch tells you, "Took your time noting it, area'd been
clear for quite some time. You'll both die for it, and for your presumptuous
attitude in thinking that you can speak to me so. Do us both a favor, and stop
talking before I have more reasons to slaughter you and your stupid little
friends.""
Menoch's starting to remind me of Dong Zhuo from the Dynasty Warriors series.
‘Every sword’s a weight to carry. Men don’t see that when they pick ’em up. But they get heavier with time.”
"hare79406" a skittish snowshoe hare
"crow224446" a dark crow
"wolverine226482" a fierce wolverine
"gyrfalcon227159" a graceful gyrfalcon
"leopard227199" an elusive snow leopard
My lynx was so close! Anyone ever seen a 1?
the claims are stated - it's the world I've created
I had a sanguine pendant with item number 7 once.
Kira tells you, "Strange, I was just giving you a dirty look in my mind."
You tell Kira Ael'ahir, the Relict of Justice, "Why Kira, I didn't know you felt that way. You're making me blush."
Kira tells you, "Godsblood, man."
Later...
Kira tells you, "And inflate that ego further? Oh, no, sir."
You tell Kira Ael'ahir, the Relict of Justice, "I like it when you call me sir. It inflates my ego."
Kira tells you, "Remind me not to."