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You are here: Home --> Forum Home --> Recent posts by Bromern Sal
Topic: Star Trek: The Guardian Saga
Subject: No. Not yet.


We're coming up with character concepts right now. I am working on a support site for the game to work with the Inn's Trek Tools and keep additional information in mind (such as ship schematics, skills, talents, and mission specs).

One of the problems I've seen with Trek games ran here in the past is not enough readily available information provided the players, so I thought I'd quell that. Another being that each player took such a vital role in ship operations that trying to get a full compliment and keep them active was nigh unto impossible. So, everyone's maximum rank is Ensign...everyone is essentially potentially a Red Shirt. We're not doing freeform because that leaves too much to speculation.

So, it might take a bit to get started. Ts'Ah and Cooner; due to your complete inexperience with the genre I'll help you with the concepts.

Looks like we have an engineering representative, and Ops. TAC/security, medical/science, or MACOs would be welcome. Oh, and I'm going to add my own twist to some of the standard equipment, but don't worry; I'll have equipment information available on the support site.

Sorry to hear you won't be joining us, Gin.

Posted on 2009-01-21 at 16:27:59.
Edited on 2009-01-21 at 16:29:20 by Bromern Sal

Topic: Star Trek: The Guardian Saga
Subject: Yup


PM the character concept and I'll refine the character itself.

Posted on 2009-01-20 at 02:46:45.

Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Cyberpunk 2020
Subject: Well, hmmm


Maybe I'm drawing out the ending too much. In any case, looks like it's just you hanging round, Drakar.

Maybe I'll give it a few days and decide what to do.

Posted on 2009-01-20 at 02:08:07.

Topic: Star Trek: The Guardian Saga
Subject: Yup!


Thanks for the help, Roger.

All of this is sounding good so far. Keep going.

Posted on 2009-01-19 at 20:18:34.

Topic: Star Trek: The Guardian Saga
Subject: Welcome


No previous knowledge necessary. I'll do something I don't normally do and keep the characters simple. At least as far as their sheets go.

Posted on 2009-01-19 at 15:37:04.

Topic: Star Trek: The Guardian Saga
Subject: Certainly.


Start coming up with concepts. Feel free to talk amongst yourselves to determine spread of skills (generalities such as operations, engineering, security, etc.), races, etc.

We can at least get this part of things underway.

Posted on 2009-01-19 at 05:54:26.

Topic: The Embodiment Q&A
Subject: No problem.


Things happen. Take the time you need.

Posted on 2009-01-18 at 19:54:37.

Topic: The Embodiment Q&A
Subject: One post?


Guess I won't be posting a continuance tomorrow.

Posted on 2009-01-18 at 10:56:50.

Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Cyberpunk 2020
Subject: No posts?


Game over?

Posted on 2009-01-18 at 10:55:25.

Topic: Star Trek: The Guardian Saga
Subject: Equipment?


You two live in the same house with the GM. You have all the help you need.

A couple more should do it.

Posted on 2009-01-15 at 02:28:39.

Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Done!


Not long, but it surprisingly enough took me a lot longer than I'd expected to write.

Posted on 2009-01-14 at 03:42:22.

Topic: Voyages of Rocinante - Serenity/Firefly RPG
Subject: The Store.


Rocinante, Regina, Frisco – 7:00 am

Wyatt was gearing up, ready to hit the town again before the meeting when Sam stated that he needed to talk. The cockpit turned out to be the best place for some privacy, especially since just about no one except the captain or Sam usually spent time in the cockpit.

Wyatt listened to all that Sam had to say, the whole time remaining impassive and unreadable on the outside while inside he couldn’t believe Sam had fallen for Bridgette, or that they’d become embroiled in this mess in the first place. Everything about the situation screamed at him to turn tail and run—to take the crew out into the Black and vanish from the codex. Not even the potential for the money Bridgette was hinting at—tempting though it was—weighed in against the safety of his crew. What’s more was that he wanted to smack Sam for getting grifted like he was, but the man had just been through a near death experience, and he was Wyatt’s oldest (known to be alive) friend. Wyatt’s eyes went to the ceiling and the wiring visible there. He honestly had to absorb what he’d just heard.

“I believe in fairies!”

Wyatt immediately dropped his gaze back to where Sam was doing his best to appear addled in the brainpan. Dash wasn’t paying attention though. Instead, he was listening to the message coming across the wave: “Eyes open and to the sky Peter. Hook is looking for your Wendy and looking quiet. Searching the Willow tree if you caught my meaning, so keep her safe, keep her hidden.”

Sam must’ve felt Wyatt’s eyes on him, ‘cause he turned and felt the need to answer the unspoken question in his captain’s eyes.

“That was from a friend who keeps an eye on the cortex for me. Someone is looking for Willow. Looking for her through the cortex but not alliance or anyone who wants to let it know they are searching.”

Gorram,” Wyatt breathed, and for the first time in days he let the disbelief show on his face as lines of worry crept out from his eyes. They were caught between a rock and a hard spot to be certain, and Sung needed a bit of time to internalize all of this, but a part of him wanted nothing to hole up for the morning just to get his head straight, but there wasn’t time for that. They were all in danger of being swallowed up by that gapin’ black hole that Bridgette had forming around her, they’d off’d two of the three boys belonging to an Alliance officer, and now someone was after Willow. Searching for her through the cortex meant they could be anywhere, far or near, and here she was off on her own.

“Stay sharp for me, Sam. We just landed in a whole bunch o’ Ri shou gou shi bing, an’ we can’t afford no mistakes jus’ cause a girl hikes her skirts up for ya. dohn-ma?” Wyatt sighed and ran a hand through his hair as he looked about the cockpit. The chance to ease their financial woes was a real enticing bit of information. “What’s Miss Bridgette got to back up her claim?”

(OOC: answer?)

Returning his gaze to the cockpit floor Wyatt gave a slight shake of his head. “I don’t like this one bit, Sam. Not one bit.

“Get yerself ready. I got to mull this over some, an’ we still got the town meetin’ t’ see to, so strap yerself an’ meet me in the cargo bay pronto.”

Leaving the pilot with that, Sung strode out of the cockpit and made his way to his quarters where he strapped on his weapons, grabbed his coat, and headed towards the cargo bay. He didn’t say anything to Sam or Asher once they all gathered together, especially about the information Sam had just divulged. Instead, he just opened the door to the town (OOC: Perception check please) and provided that it was safe, started off to the shop.

The first shop—Woodbury General Store—was a simple stop. Wyatt ignored the woman with the shotgun as he would an annoying pest, and focused his attention on the interaction between Orville and Asher, letting The Kid handle the fine points while he made inventory of their hats. Finding one he liked, similar in appearance to his previous hat, Sung joined Asher as he finished up with the selection of ammunition and made their payment together. Questions placed about mesh and more were redirected next door to Ormond and Lovett.

The hat was still stiff. Wyatt didn’t look forward to the headaches breaking the hat in the slow way would bring, but they didn’t have time for him to soak it, shape it, and let it dry. Stepping into the shop, he reset the hat on his head and pulled the front of the brim down the way he liked it as he took the scene in.

“Welcome, gentlemen! How can I…?”

The friendly-looking fellow approaching was interrupted by a call from the back.

“Hey! Lovett! You Tain Di Wu Yohn! Stop playing with your Joo Fuen Chse and do some work for a change!”

“Ormond you Mei yong ma duh tse gu yong! Can’t you leave me alone for one second. I’m with customers, Dohn-ma!”

Wyatt looked to Asher and back to Lovett. “We have some business t’ attend to pertainin’ to ammunition for some big damn guns, and some protective wear. We were told you could help.”

That…that was probably the wrong thing to say, but Wyatt didn’t have much time to retract, or retrace, as the man began to deny any culpability for such allegations as vehemently as a husband caught by a wife in a whorehouse. The captain was barely able to get a word in edgewise due to the man’s fluttering about trying to redirect their questions while pausing at windows and fluctuating the volume of his voice like some conspirator. Finally, Wyatt had put up with enough.

Bi jweh!” His voice—level though it was—cut through the man’s antics like a sawed off through a mid-section. “We used up the ammo savin’ yer damn bank from bein’ robbed blind, and my friend here got turned into Swiss cheese in the process. If’n you got the ammunition I’d be right pleased if’n you’d set us up proper and quit with the fool act!”

After that, everything went really smooth. Lovett was more than happy to help out once he learned that they were the big damn heroes who’d kept the town in money. Wyatt was quick to finalize their business, in part due to the fact that it still irked him people thought of him as the Law, and in part because he was starting to be as twitchy as Sam ever since the pilot had filled his head with thoughts of lost treasure, Ludlows, and some mystery entity hunting Willow…not to mention the Alliance affiliated father of the Ludlows, and the third brother—they come in threes…Ta ma duh! Wyatt was glad to get out of that shop and be about the rest of the morning tasks.

The meeting—bureaucracy and all—would be a welcome opportunity to keep his mind occupied with something more mundane.


Posted on 2009-01-14 at 03:40:46.

Topic: Star Trek: The Guardian Saga
Subject: Two?


Hmmm...I was hoping for more like six. Still some time left I suppose.

Posted on 2009-01-13 at 19:29:59.

Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Stupid late hours at work!


I'm almost done with my post. I'll try to have it in place tonight. Sorry for the delay.

Posted on 2009-01-13 at 19:28:13.

Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off Q&A
Subject: A paint job too?


Maybe Char could get some bodywork done and a fresh coat of paint while there.

Posted on 2009-01-13 at 19:26:47.

Topic: Star Trek: The Guardian Saga
Subject: Star Trek: The Guardian Saga


Thinking of starting up a rules-based Star Trek game in the near future here. I'll be using the FUZION system rules for characters and stats, and the plan is that no player will be a department head, but rather everyone will be ensign rank-ish. The time will be during the Dominion War as I liked where we were headed with the last game.

Looking for interest right now. If there's enough interest I'll leave dry dock.

Posted on 2009-01-12 at 20:58:05.

Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Have a post in the works...


Got real late, real fast. Will hopefully post tomorrow.

Posted on 2009-01-12 at 07:01:36.

Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Cyberpunk 2020
Subject: In motion again...


And we're back, Choombas. Post away.

Posted on 2009-01-12 at 06:16:33.

Topic: Cerebral Paradox - Mature Content
Subject: Dead Ends?


Kremlin’s Freighter– Docks – Night City – March, Saturday 14th, 2020, 7:20am

Spiff ejected the clip on the gun and tossed it to the man. Kolchak instinctively snatched the weapon by the barrel grip and then brought it up into his meat hand and took up the stock holding it across his chest without removing his eyes from Spiffs. His was a cold stare…inhuman. After a moment, the mafia sniper glanced at the weapon before returning his gaze back to the fixer, just as frosty as before.

"So, Mister Kolchak, what is it you hate most on this little planet?"

“Hate is luxury. No luxury here.”

"Good to know. I like to know the people who are working for me." Spiff stood up, gathered together his things and turned to the man who was left to guard them. "Well, I've overstayed my welcome. Thank you for your time and it was a pleasure doing business. Your shooter will know where to find you when the job is done if he's as good as you say he is. I will come with him then to keep my end of the bargain."

The solo shrugged and continued to stare, mimicking the shooter’s disposition. Kolchak stepped aside as the fixer made his way to the door, and waited until the well-dressed man was out in the rain once more before following.

Spiff left the docks and went straight for his cab. The darn thing was still there. Reliable as ever, and running up a lovely fee. Still, Spiff knew what dangers that little cab meant. If Biotechnica could track him by his phone, they could certainly track him by his PCTD (Pocket Credit Transfer Device), so he was running cash at the moment, and that fare—that 300Eb fare—just ate up the last of it.

Spiff used the first few minutes in the cab to relocate some valuable information from his phone and memory to his DataWatch. Once that was finished, he opened up to the sniper.

"The mark is Biotechnica. You should only have to take out the guards outside to get us in. Keep the outside clear and your job will be complete. There should be plenty of decent locations to position yourself. And with that thing and these" Spiff nodded at the rifle and held up one of the shells, "you shouldn't have much trouble." Spiff took a deep breath and rubbed his temples. It was very late. "Well, that's the intent at least. Who knows what kind of stupid things Croaker has done in the last twenty-four hours. Your mission may change as a result. Hopefully he's been resting. His crew's gonna have to be in top form for this job."

Kolchak continued to stare and cradle the dangerous and illegal weapon in his hands as the cab sped off into the night. If the thought of going up against Biotechnica phased him, well…the man didn’t show it.

Spiff directed the cab to drop him off a block away from the hotel where he'd left Preacher. When the cab stopped curbside, he collected his things and, with Kolchak alongside like some silent zombie, he walked the rest of the way back to the hotel. Once he’d arrived, and made his way inside the lobby it was easy to see that the gun-toting mafiaso at his side caused the clerk behind the desk to go out of her way not to take notice.

The hall to their room was empty except for the cleaning crew some ways down the hall just unloading a fresh batch of towels. Using his keycard, Spiff opened the door to what appeared to be an empty room. The keyboard he’d arranged for Preacher was sitting on the edge of the bed, and the man’s damaged cowboy hat was still sitting on the desk. Kolchak remained patiently just outside as Spiff’s instinct came into play and he produced his Mustang Arms Mark II, slowly and quietly from his shoulder holster. The familiar weight of the weapon was something of a comfort…not entirely, but still somewhat. He was just about to step forward when Preacher appeared—At least a portion of him.

The solo-netrunner appeared by first placing the barrel of his Ameritech Magnum around the corner of the room where the entry hall expanded into the bedroom so that it was pointing almost directly at Spiff’s forehead. Then, when he saw who it was, he held the weapon, grip first, towards the fixer and stepped all the way around the corner, only to point the weapon very quickly again at Kolchak.

Sunset Cottages – Heywood – Night City – March, Saturday 14th, 2020, 8:38am




Biotechnica Facility; Southernmost Building – Northeast of Night City – March, Saturday 14th, 2020, 12:12am

There was a simple answer from the bodyguard. He pointed to the door with his weapon and approached with swift determination. The door was opened with a keycard swiped from a dead guard revealing a long, surgically clean hall with a mirrored ceiling and upper walls. The hallway was lined with metal doors with inset windows and nice, vinyl lettering. At the end of the hall, another, wider, door stood.

Progress down the hall was agonizingly slow, each room checked in brief through the window to discover offices; some with cubicles, some with desks, but none bearing the impression of a sanctuary. At the door, Guardian again took the lead, cracking the door a bit before swinging it open and stepping into a lobby; which he covered with a wide sweep.

There were two sets of elevators, one on either side of the room, and another door straight ahead. There were fake ferns in the corners, and a bench on either side of the doors, both those they came through and the one on the other side of the room. The elevator to the left had a biometric scanner and a keycard. The doors opposite their entry had a keycard lock, and the other elevator didn’t appear to have any security.

“Biometric,” Javier said with something of a smirk and a shrug. “Any ideas?”

Biotechnica Facility; Southernmost Building – Northeast of Night City – March, Saturday 14th, 2020, 12:13am




Biotechnica Facility; Northernmost Building – Northeast of Night City – March, Saturday 14th, 2020, 12:10am

“I will go with whatever matters not to me,” Lightning whispered.

Firewind glanced at the techie and raised his eyebrows, causing the tattoos across his forehead to wrinkle. He wasn’t sure how he wanted to proceed. Combat was something he lived through while following the directions of the more tactically-minded. In that room, at that time, there was one person with a tactical mind: MDK. In that moment of realization, the medtech realized that he was pretty much going to follow suite.

“Hey,” Keahi intoned, standing to the side of the door and now focusing his attention on the assassin despite the draw of the gunfire outside. “Your call, Brah.”

Biotechnica Facility; Northernmost Building – Northeast of Night City – March, Saturday 14th, 2020, 12:11am


Posted on 2009-01-12 at 06:15:29.

Topic: The Embodiment - A FUZIONfantasy Game
Subject: We continue.


The West Ward | Westgate Guardhouse | The City of Ethryn | The Kingdom of Ertain | Claise 23rd, Teladay, 452ER, 9:42pm | Overcast and Snow-Covered



(OOC: Persuasion & Fast Talk 31, 31; Awareness/Notice 30)

"Good sirs, I find it odd how you fine gentlemen may be stuck outside. Please, allow me to explain. My name is Guy. I am a mercenary trying to find a more... stable employment. A friend of mine recommended I try the city guard. He said that the night watch was probably where I'd start, as the new guy. I was coming to see if I could take one night as an unofficial guard, and see if I like it, then talk to the commander, see if I can join. Is it okay if I stay here with you two, to see if I can handle the city guard? One night is all I ask."

The second soldier peered sideways at his companion, but the first remained steadfast in his observance of Lloyd, his lips working as though he were chewing something distasteful while he considered the strange proposal.

“You want to freeze your arse off, it’s your own business, Guy.” The sergeant hoisted the crossbow to shoulder level. “We aren’t doin’ much anyway.”

“’It would be a better offer if’n ya brought something as a peace offerin’. Ain’t that so Sarge?” The fellow with the halberd grinned showing grimy teeth barely visible through his heavy beard. “Somethin’ t’ warm the blood, if ya will.” This was followed by gruff laughter.

“Yeah.” The sergeant agreed with a wry grin that showed a bit more hygiene. “Want to join the Guard, eh? Don’t know why. If what you said is true and you’re a mercenary, you ought to be able to sign on with some caravan, or even one of those crazy adventuring groups that goes off seeking the dark. In any case, a night in the cold ought to cure you of this insanity.”

The sergeant lowered the crossbow and turned to walk back towards the awning, the fellow with the halberd waiting for Lloyd to follow before falling in step.

“My name is Blanndis,” The sergeant set the crossbow down on the table they’d come to and motioned towards one of the four chairs surrounding it. Such seating would place the group looking out at the city and the gate with their backs to the door that would be the entrance to the gloomy-looking guardhouse. “And that’s Joncitue…with a name fancier than his position in life.” Sgt. Blanndis chuckled as he plopped down into the chair and readjusted his cloak to better protect him from the cold wind that crept around the corner of the building. Joncitue followed suite and kicked his feet up on the edge of the table, a bit of snow and mud falling from the soles to the table top.

“We’ve another three hours on this shift, and that’s about all the time I can offer. Then the new shift sergeant might have some different ideas. Until then, feel free to become one with Winter.” Blanndis chuckled again.

(OOC: There is time for further small talk if you so desire…)

The shift changed as promised and the new shift officer was at first reluctant to break with protocol, but after Lloyd’s convincing negotiation, the bounty hunter didn’t even have to clear out of his chair (which might have been a feat into and of itself considering he was nearly frozen). About five hours later, bitter cold from his night spent sitting with less than talkative city guard, Lloyd was never more happy to see false dawn as it peeked over the cityscape skyline. Shortly after this, the usual commuters began to gather, and the shift sergeant was put to work checking those leaving, and those asking admittance. This left Lloyd to his own devices, to survey the changing landscape and watch for the scar-faced man Tales was supposed to meet.

Madius arrived within a few minutes of the first wagons. With him was a dun-colored horse bearing a riding saddle and a simple pair of large saddlebags. The scar-faced man stood to the side of the growing column of people ready to leave the city for their own purposes, one hand gripping the reins, his head held high looking about, searching. He was a man of average build, with a neatly-trimmed salt and pepper beard and mustaches, and long, unkempt gray hair. He wore earth tone clothing over a chainmail suit, and a longsword and dagger were apparent on his hips. From where Lloyd sat at the guardhouse table, he could see the man standing about thirty meters away, the column of wagons, pedestrians, and pack mules standing looking back at the city…waiting.

The West Ward | Westgate Guardhouse | The City of Ethryn | The Kingdom of Ertain | Claise 24th, Viladay, 452ER, 6:45am | Partly Cloudy and Snow-Covered






Noble’s Ward | Treetop | The City of Davnor | Claise 23rd, Teladay, 452ER, 6:50pm | Partly Cloudy and Snow-Covered



(OOC: Jury Rig 32 [critical success]; Athletics 26, 26; Pick Lock 35 [critical success]; Appraisal 33 [critical success])

Shiften actually found it easier to create the makeshift snowshoes than he’d originally estimated. Within five minutes he’d crafted shoes that he felt would not only hold up for the jaunt across the compound, but the return trip as well, before falling apart and reverting to the original organic material making it near impossible to determine what they’d been used for in the first place.

Dropping from the tree, he quickly made up the distance to the wall in short order. He’d arranged his approach to give him the most time possible between the guard’s rotations, and once he reached the wall, he was over it in a breath or two, and crouched in the relative security of the shadow on the other side. He strapped the snowshoes on and with long strides the distance to the building disappeared beneath his feat, leaving huge imprints barely two inches deep in the snow in his wake. Against the finely crafted stone of the mansion, Shiften rested his weight while he slipped the snowshoes off and secured them in his large belt pouch, beneath his cloak and between his belt and his back. It wasn’t comfortable, but it would have to do. The sands of time were falling, and the second-story man had a ways to go yet.

Hooking his booted foot on one crenellation, Shiften reached up and took hold of a protruding sculpture made in the likeness of a succubus with cold fingers. From that point he was a shadow climbing the wall in less time than it takes most people to walk the same distance. It ended when he hooked his leg over the stone railing of the balcony and rolled himself to a crouch in the snow just a couple of paces from the door.

As he suspected, there was a lock on the door, and Shiften’s very expensive lockpicks were in hand without a second thought. He made short work of the lock—it was amazing how well things were falling into place, almost as though Fate demanded he succeed—and the door swung inward granting the thief access to the interior just as the hostess of the manor would soon be inviting guests into her home.

Shiften took the parameters of the room and internalized them within seconds. It was approximately ten meters by fifteen meters, and he’d entered mid-way into the room on the long wall. It was finely furnished with sitting areas featuring tables and chairs, bookshelves, and display cases. There was one set of double doors opposite him, but other than that there was no other access to the room. There were plenty of things about the room that could be interesting, but there was one thing in particular that stood out above the others.

In his brief examination of the room Shiften had seen a portrait hanging on the wall between two of the bookshelves in a very prominent position. So prominent that it didn’t matter where you sat in the room, the portrait was a prime focal point. It was too big for him to pack out, so he’d originally dismissed it, but then there was the other portraits, and the bust; all depicting the same subject: a beautiful woman, if a bit cold, with raven black hair, wide, doe eyes of an emerald green, and rich, healthy skin tones. Her shapely figure wasn’t hidden well by the gowns she wore in the paintings, but, in fact, was emphasized to such a degree that it made Shiften’s heart skip a couple of beats. Beyond her beauty and obvious physical appeal, there was the pendant worn about her neck in every representation of her. It was gold and platinum mix, very dainty and elegant, obviously made by a master craftsman. The pendant bore a large emerald center in its setting, surrounded by unique compilation of orbs, suns, and stars made up of various additional stones. Now, this wouldn’t have been valuable to him if he hadn’t seen it resting about the neck of a wooden bust within a display case in the far corner of the room.

That pendant that she appears to have such an attachment to would gather at least 50,000gp if he could find a buyer, but more importantly was the attachment. She’d miss that…oh yes, she’d miss that, and more than likely before the evening was over.

Noble’s Ward | Treetop | The City of Davnor | Claise 23rd, Teladay, 452ER, 6:52pm | Partly Cloudy and Snow-Covered






The Temple of Rydor | The Empire of Drannon | The City of Drefast | Claise 4th, Viladay, 452ER, 9:00am | Abnormally Warm



“Who among us would not benefit from Rydor’s blessing? I, for one, would not say no to its benefice,” The Right Hand of Rydorhumbly answered.

Fetrese laid an open hand upon her head, his deep voice invoking Rydor’s blessing. There was no magic involved, no divine benefit other than to feel closer to her god. When the last words to his prayer fell from his lips, Caterina rose up and clasped Fetrese by both arms in a warrior’s greeting.


“I also have need of your counsel, and that of your most discreet and learned advisors. Perhaps we may retire to your study?”

“It will take but a moment to gather,” Fetrese waved his hand in a dismissive manner and two of his attendees vanished from the stairs in their haste to be about his bidding. If Caterina didn’t always agree with the mandates of Master of the Iron Tomb, he was very efficient.

Caterina confined herself to polite enquiries after the health of those she knew serving in the temple, until Manderes closed the door to his study, and she could be assured of privacy. With the Master of the Iron Tomb was Galdecus of the Steel Gauntlet, and Hiterung of the Compassionate Law, both high-ranking officials within the church.


Caterina described the attack of the bull-horned, crow-feathered demon, its features and the curious brand upon its head, even taking up pen and ink to sketch the details of the brand as she remembered it. She detailed how the creature bore a greatsword yet confined its strike attempts with the black dagger, and she brought forth the danger and laid it gingerly upon Fetrese’s desk. As the others leaned forward to examine it closely, she shared with them the creature’s only words. You are to die now, Knight. This was intended for you: Compliments of the Eloquent Mask of Obarin.


“I was able to defeat it, with Rydor’s grace, but it slew my squire Ethain. I know not this Mask of Obarin, or why he seeks my death, but now I have an accounting with this…Mask” the last was spat disdainfully as Caterina paced about the room. She stopped and spun to face Fetrese as she finished, the question clear in her eyes.

“This is, indeed, very puzzling—“ Hiterung practically whispered as he stared at the dagger.

“And troubling,” Galdecus muttered. “Could this be more than just an old enemy of the Lady Caterina’s coming back for revenge?”

Fetrese raised his eyebrows and looked to his subordinate with questioning eyes, “Such as?”

“Perhaps this is an attack on the Church,” was the suggestion.

“That, my old friend, is quite the assumption, but I’m afraid that it isn’t something we can rule out. As such, we’ll make sure we take the necessary precautions. But for now, we must set about doing our due diligence on the information we have been brought—information that has already cost one innocent his life.

“I’m afraid I have no recollection of ever seeing such a symbol before, Lady D’Oro—“

“Nor have I,” Galdecus confirmed.

“As well, neither have I,” Hiterung acknowledged if somewhat grimly.

“But our libraries are expansive…Hiterung, do you have your usual selection of scrolls about you?” Fetrese suddenly shifted directions.

“I do.” Then, it was as though the man knew to what his superior was hinting at. He retrieved from his belt pouch an elaborately carved bone scrollcase from which he produced a prayer scroll. He read it with his podium voice, though it wasn’t necessary, and after a moment, with his hand held over the dagger, he nodded, confirming what everyone there had already suspected. “It is poisoned, though it would take an alchemist to determine the type.”

“It might prove beneficial to determine just such a thing, Lady D’Oro, but it would require we retain the dagger for a time. We’ll put our libraries, scholars, and sages to work right away on the symbol as well. You are welcome to remain a guest within the temple—we have a few prayer cells available—while we perform this research.” Fetrese offered, still looking at the dagger where it lay next to the drawing of the symbol Caterina had so graciously provided.

“There are also arcane sources of information we could potentially utilize as well…” Galdecus offered up, reminding Caterina of a relationship she’d made some time ago with a particular Sylvari wizardess.

“And we could seek divine guidance…” Hiterung suggested.

“Rydor has obviously chosen the Lady Caterina as his champion once more,” Fetrese held out a hand to stall any further discussion and redirected their attention back to the paladin. “This is your quest, Lady. How would you like us to help, if at all?”

The Temple of Rydor | The Empire of Drannon | The City of Drefast | Claise 4th, Viladay, 452ER, 10:10am | Abnormally Warm




Posted on 2009-01-12 at 00:33:58.

Topic: The Embodiment Q&A
Subject: NP


Get feeling better.

Posts made. After all was said and done YeOlde was the only one whose character wasn't advanced in the storyline (you haven't responded to the last post yet).

Holy smokes, Sui! I don't think I've ever rolled that many critical successes in such a short period of time before. Here's for hoping his luck holds.

Posted on 2009-01-11 at 07:54:23.
Edited on 2009-01-12 at 20:51:13 by Bromern Sal

Topic: The Embodiment Q&A
Subject: One part done....


So, I've finished up the sending of the information, now I still plan on posting Sunday, so have at!

Posted on 2009-01-10 at 05:47:59.

Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off Q&A
Subject: Um...


Mmmmph mmph phmmph mmph mmm mm mppph mmmmp. (dead Char speak. You thought he was hard to understand while living!)

Posted on 2009-01-09 at 22:11:15.

Topic: The Embodiment Q&A
Subject: Yup


that's the plan.

Posted on 2009-01-09 at 15:20:09.

Topic: The Embodiment Q&A
Subject: Sorry.


I realize that I've left a couple of questions hanging. I'll strive to provide some answers tomorrow night, and make some posts Sunday.

Posted on 2009-01-09 at 06:37:33.

 


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