Eric will likely "feel" a little different, I'm sure, with someone new pulling the strings... but MagickMan is quality, and I don't know that Duncan will ever be able to rejoin (his words).  It's silly to keep flipping that switch. 

I need to get a handle on my NPCs, too.  I had some things cooking before my latest flake-o-rama.

Welcome back. 

Also , I have a piece of news to share - I believe that I have MagickMan65 talked into picking up the role of Commander Thorson.  Yay for a near full strength crew!

Time, man, time. 

Hopefully, this time around, I'll remember to make some more when the bottle is, say, half empty. 

Brom has been superb as Asovil.

Sounds like a plan,  Brom.

Love Gib so much. 

Bromern is correct - priests can still pray.  Cure spells remain available to them; of course, this means that Gib and Cedric can heal themselves, but not their allies (you must be able to touch someone to use a cure spell). 

Cedric can cast light still.  Aside from those two, you need to check with me to see if other spells are available.  In my games, priests require holy symbols for almost all spells.  Obviously, any that have material components are out (no access to components). 

The observation about infection is an excellent one.  You guys don't normally have to worry about infection, but with no way to heal wounds, in a filthy dungeon, with wounds inflicted by undead... yeah.

Silly?  Silly?????

I RESEMBLE THAT REMARK!!!

What you have is prefectly okay.  Considering that objects on the holodeck can be interacted with - many TNG episodes have them picking up various items and whatnot (including various weaponsand such) - there has to be a tactile element allowed there.

Star Trek - the only place where people actually ENJOY doing meetings.

I learned something new. 



Also...  Aranwen love triabgle?  Rectangle?  Pentagram?

I've lost count.

I had to read it twice to get the joke. 

No pictures.  We're not that kind of website.  

...when a mommy and a daddy love each other VERY much, they grab some honey and a feather duster and some handcuffs, and... where was I?

Oh, right.  Kith has been a bad girl and needs to be punished.  Or, Davena is just in a torturin' mood.  Whatevs.  

You wanted a game post, you got a game post!

I'll give everyone a brief chance to respond, then I'll bump things to the staff meeting.

Stardate 2365.02.22
U.S.S. Peregrine; Deck 1 - Bridge – 0735

The viewscreen showed the emptiness of warp while the bridge crew went about their duties.  Silas sat in the Big Chair with a PADD in his hand, reviewing notes and performance reports.  There would indeed be bullet points to cover in the staff meeting.

Lieutenant Moriden glanced up from the Ops station.  "Captain, I have a priority message from Starfleet Command."

Drake sat the PADD down and stood.  "Onscreen, please."

The viewscreen shifted to the scene of a  human female in an admiral's jacket.  Silas recognized the face underneath the graying brown hair.

"Admiral Harding.  I hope that you are well.  What can we do for you?" he spoke.

The Admiral frowned.  "Commander Drake, you recall the escape pod that you brought to Starbase 118?"

Silas nodded.  "Of course, Admiral.  What of it?"

Harding continued.  "Commander, that escape pod was picked up by the U.S.S. Serapis for study.  Five days ago, we lost all contact with the Serapis.  Four hours ago, we received a garbled distress signal from her."

After a pause, an audio recording began playing.

...containment failed... changes... loss of life... require aid... caution... HELP US...

"That's all there is," Harding added. 

Silas felt a disquiet in the pit of his stomach as the admiral spoke.  "Commander Drake, the Peregrine is the closest option that we have.  I am sending you the last known coordinates of the Serapis.  You are to proceed there immediately to ascertain the situation and to deal with it appropriately.  Use extreme caution, as there is no telling what exactly happened.  If there are any survivors, you are to render aid."

Drake nodded immediately.  "Of course, Admiral.    Do we know anything else?"

An odd look crossed the admiral's face for a moment, but she shook her head.  "No, Commander.  I can provide no further intel on the matter.  Conduct yourself with caution and keep us approsed.  Good luck, and Godspeed.  Harding out."

With that, the viewscreen with blank.

Silas sat down again for a moment.  "Tochi," he spoke, "set a course for those coordinates, warp factor six."  Without bothering to verify if the order had been acknolwedged, the located his yeoman. 

"Riva," he called, "inform the senior staff that our mission has changed, and that the new orders will be the focus of the 0900 staff meeting."

The Bajoran picked up on the tension in Drake's voice, and for once, offered no sass.  "Aye, sir.  I'll get right on that."

Silas nodded.  "Thank you."

His hand gripped the edge of the chair.  This felt ominous...

A) I imagine you will be spectacular.

B) Eol and I are massive nerds who will be happy to help on any possible technical details.

C) If you refer to the items at the beginning of the Q&A (the schedules, the resource links, etc) you will almost certainly be fine.

So glad to have you, Reralae!

Sorry for the delay, folks.  I was referencing some items back in Edgo of Duty, butwe had some gremils there making the pages unreadable with strange accent characters.  I spent some time danitizing and fixing.  Post is coming...

...that is the point.  There is still life (for some).  It's not over yet.

Give it time.  It's legit vanilla extract, and it's delicious. 

Midge, in D&D terms, is "dead and gone".  Aka completely, utterly dead.

Cedric is moderately wounded.  Everyone else is seriously wounded. 

Well, Kith bounces between mortal wounds and completely healthy. 

lol @ phallic stone thing.  Oh, my.

Yes, Eol - you all come out of paralysis shortly after you go to your cells.

Okay.  Each of you is in your own private suite. 

Hahahahha....

The rooms are small - something like 8 feet by 8 feet.  The walls and floor are stone.  There is a little filthy straw on the ground, but nothing else.  No bed, no cot, no chamberpot.  Nothing.

Each cell has a very sturdy iron gate on it.  Two of you are housed on each side of the narrow hallway.  You can see into one another's cells - when the light flickers enough to allow it. 

Your equipment is gone.  No weapons, no shields, no backup weapons, no holy symbols, no backpacks, no pouches.  You still have any armor/clothing you were wearing, but that's it.

The dark robed priest smiles widely at Aranwen's action.  "Your wisdom outweighs your pride, Bladesinger," he observes.  He looks to the ghouls.  "Disarm them." 

Immediately, the giggling monsters comply, removing weapons, holy symbols, and such from each standing party member.  At the priest's signal, they bagin to march Arawen deeper into the cellblock, while dragging the rest of the party along.

The priest himself falls behind and moves to Midge's side, then arches an eyebrow in surprise.  The mage's eyes are open, the stare blank and vacant... but his chest still moves shallowly.  "The little one still lives," he observes flatly, "though only for moments more, I suspect."  He shakes his head.  "I'll not waste the effort... and a little evidence won't be a bad thing." 

He gestures to the motionless cidal.  "You may eat this one."  The giggling of the ghouls increases to a fever pitch, and several of the creatures leap atop of Midge, ripping at his flesh and jockeying for the choicest bits. 

With the mage's doom fully sealed, the rest of the party is forced deeper into the dark dungeon.  The greenish light grows very dim here, often only flickering sparodically.  Aranwen's torch is extinguished, leaving no other source of light. 

The group is taken through another iron gate to a far more narrow hallway.  Upon reaching another set of what appear to be cells, each individual is locked inside their own dark room.  The stench of death and decay is truly appressive here. 

The priest takes his leave.  "You will remain here at my leisure," he explains.  "You have no weapons, no way to call upon your gods.  You live - for now - because I allow it."

He pauses, smiling slightly.  "If you are wise, you will be good houseguests, and I may reward you.  If you make a nuisance of yourselves, you will have no value to me, and I will deal with you accordingly.  I hope that you understand, and are wise enough to comply.  If you attempt escape, the ghouls will rend you to pieces, and I will not intercede again."

He bobs his head.  "Goodbye, for now."

With that, he is gone, and heavy darkness descends.  Nothing but the smell of death and the sound of insane giggling remains.

Somebody hand me the spray bottle.  Ch'dau, get that out of your mouth!  You don't know WHERE it's been!