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Topic: Be back in a bit
Subject: WoooHooo!!!


Vacation is so... refreshing!

Enjoy the time away, Almerin. We'll keep your spot warm.

Posted on 2010-07-28 at 15:37:40.

Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off
Subject: Next verse


Backpost

“Sunset knows she’s not bound to us,” Dapple had snorted in derision when Caicher had interjected his own thoughts on the little dragon’s actions, “she’s free for the first time in her life…”

The bard blinked in the face of the thief’s disdain and, looking into the cold slate of the lad’s eyes for a moment, raised a quizzical brow. Did I say something to indicate I thought otherwise, he wondered, or, perhaps, did the lad just mistake my meaning?. “Of course she is,” Flynn conceded with a faint nod and a grin, “As she should be. And, like the rest of us free folk, she chooses to be free with those she…”

The lighthearted smile was, once more, melted from the bard’s lips when Dapple interrupted his interruption; “And as for love…”

Caicher held his tongue, waiting for the dour footpad to finish whatever conclusion that the lad’s obviously angry heart had come to in regards to love. Dapple seemed to reconsider, though, and, with a scowl more grim than it had been, swallowed whatever words he had been prepared to speak, turned, and stalked away…

There’s more ire, there, than just that borne of a life in the shadowed streets, Flynn thought as he watched Dapple Moon skulk off, an anger directed as much inward as outward, I think. Story and song had painted the lad’s picture well enough – dark, skulking, acerbic and bitter as wormwood, and both a scrapper and sneak-thief of no small distinction – and so Flynn wasn’t off-put by the lad’s manner. In truth, he had expected nothing less. Something in the timbre of Dapple’s voice when he had spoken those last four words… or, perhaps, it was something in the hardened expression or the subtle bristling of posture… something made Flynn wonder what the songs and stories had left out about this one… “Love is many things to many folk, Dapple Moon,” he said after an instant, smiling a bit as Sunset shifted and rippled beneath the fall of the retreating thief’s cloak, “and takes more forms than many folk might imagine… I’d be a minstrel sorely lacking if I didn’t know at least that…”

There was just a hint of sadness in the bard’s bright smile when he turned to face the others and offered a bit of a shrug. “Poor boy-o,” he sighed, “I don’t suppose telling him that, with all that out there, there’s plenty a piece for him whether he thinks it or no, is there?”

((OOC: Couldn’t resist the ‘invitation’ to banter with Dapple, Van… Carry on or leave it lie at your discretion, of course… I figure Caicher’s turned and is heading towards ‘lunch’… ))

Present Time

The trek up the mountainside had been as perilous as Caicher had been led to believe it would be and there had been more than one time along that winding path that the bard had almost lamented volunteering to bring up the rear… The ride up the mountain would make a good, suspense-building bridge between bits of a story, of course, but each time one of the horses ahead of him set hoof to and staggered over a loose patch of stone or one of the riders leaned precariously over to avoid being swept completely out of their saddles by an outcropping of rock or an overgrown limb that thrust into the path, the bard couldn’t help but think what an awful ending it would make to the tale should just one mistake be made and they all go toppling to their deaths before even reaching the Temple of Wee Jas that blocked the way to the ruined castle where Zephur once reigned… Despite the anxiety that those moments brought, though, Flynn still managed to find inspiration in the views afforded his eyes along the path and the thrill of finding himself at the start of a new adventure of his own and, as such, the half elf could often be heard humming, whistling, or singing along the way.

Even as the party reached the gardens that flanked the entrance to the temple Caicher was humming softly, his eyes sparkling as they took in the variety of herbs and flowers in their overgrown plots and studied the inspired architecture of the temple itself. Quite a magnificent sight, he mused over the tune he was humming, the priests of Wee Jas are an industrious lot, to be sure, to have maintained this and their relationship with Hevlorn with just the few of them that occupy – or is it now ‘occupied’ – the place…

“No, everyone,” Dapple’s dry sarcasm plucked Flynn’s attentions from his perusal of the place, “don’t stir yourselves. Let me do it.”

The bard’s tune was interrupted by a soft chuckle as he swung in his saddle and watched the thief make a cautious and deliberate advance on the temple doors. As the lad was creeping whisper-silent up the steps Caicher’s eyes watched him with the intensity of a story-teller capturing the minutest of details so that the tapestry of the tale would be as reach in the retelling as it was in the firsthand experience. When Dapple reached the top of those steps, though, and set to work on the doors, the bard’s attentions became more wary of the thief’s surroundings that the thief himself. Though it continued in his head, the tune Flynn was humming disappeared into silence as he took his bow from where it hung on the saddle, set an arrow to the string, and made ready to cover Dapple’s advance (or retreat, as the case may be) once the doors came open.


Posted on 2010-07-27 at 16:05:46.

Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off Q&A
Subject: Nuh-uh!!!


Mages fall out of the sky and wink off into nothingness!

Posted on 2010-07-27 at 01:35:25.

Topic: Voyages of Rocinante - Serenity/Firefly RPG
Subject: Ta mah duh!


Newhouse, Beylix, Outside Jailhouse, 12:20 am, Day Three

Now, Sam couldn’t’ve told a body a ruttin’ thing about Chad Sloat before the fella come aboard Rocinante as a passenger and, even after having spent the better part of a week in the Black with the man, he couldn’t’ve told much more aside from the fact that Sloat was a quiet sort of fella – tended to stay out from under foot an’ kept to the passenger berths except when grub was on the table – and was a might twitchy when it come to the strongbox as he kept cozied away in his bunk… an’ there wasn’t too awful much wrong with twitchy in Sam’s way of thinkin’ as twitchy’d kept him suckin’ air for more than a couple years. Of course, ya ain’t gotta really know a fella to get an impression of what he’s gonna be like all the time and, twitchy aside, Sam never got the impression that Sloat were much of a criminal at all, let alone the type that’d take berth on a transport just ta come half across the Verse so as to do some thievin’ at the mining guild offices on Beylix. So, when Wyatt drawled; “Sam,”we’ll make ‘im think we’re helpin’ him, so no guns unless necessary,” the scruffy pilot nodded his agreement and set off to run Sloat down and tackle the guy before he got himself shot…

“Stop! In the name of the law!”

BLAM! BLAM!

Sam’d barely made a full run when he heard Pearson and Pearson’s pistol. He wasn’t sure which he’d heard first, nor was he sure that he hadn’t heard them both at the same time. What he was sure of, though, as his pumping legs, suddenly gone numb, stopped churning and his jaw dropped open is that Chad Sloat and his strongbox weren’t liable to get back up under their own will, now, and (in Sam’s mind, at least) that Pearson hadn’t given Sloat much of a chance to stop before he stopped him. He didn’t need to see the fear in the eyes of the local witnesses to know that Pearson was the type to shoot first and ask questions later (if them as he was shooting at lived to answer questions, anyway)…

“Thank you, Luke!”

There was a trembling in the voice that translated in Sam’s ears as “Thanks for not shooting me, Luke!”

“Nice shooting Mr. Pearson!”

Sam blinked in disbelief as his numb legs plodded to a stop less than a hop and a skip from Pearson… Whiskey-colored eyes swept towards the owner of that voice and, behind the compliment, registered anxiousness and forced good humor behind the compliment. Dash’s palm itched for the butt of the Avenger, just then, but his back felt Wyatt’s eyes boring a hole in it, so the pilot just blinked again… at the back of Pearson’s head… at the still form of Sloat not too far off… and, finally, back to Wyatt with a look that said; “I don’t conjure I’m believin’ what I just seen, Cap!”

Dash saw Wyatt’s lips tighten and knew that the Captain was about to say something that’d likely settle his jumping nerves but…

“You ruttin’ trigger-happy sumbitch,” Sam’s gaze had already swept back past Sloat’s sprawled form and found the back of Pearson’s head again, “what’d ya have ta go an’ shoot that poor bastard fer?!”

((OOC: Sam's not lookin' to slap leather or nothin' but he does recall Sloat hovering like a mother hen over that strogbox of his for the whole cruise and ain't entirely convinced that an innocent man didn't just get gunned down for nothin'! ))

Posted on 2010-07-25 at 20:17:20.

Topic: Hello
Subject: Eol always knows...


...he's practically psychotic, don't ya know... he's got ESPN and everything... (not to mention a network of snitches who are more than enthusiastic about throwing newcomers under the facelick bus)...



Posted on 2010-07-23 at 19:46:09.

Topic: Recommendations?
Subject: Did ya think I forgot?




Y'know... there's something very satisfying about making 'em wait for it sometimes.

Looks like everyone else has got the basics covered for ya, Dreen, so, I guess all I've got is my "standard welcome" and an available PM inbox if'n ya need anything else.

Welcome aboard, mate!

Posted on 2010-07-23 at 19:43:05.

Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off Q&A
Subject: I'm not whining...


...I'm anticipating.

Posted on 2010-07-23 at 19:19:31.

Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off Q&A
Subject: EEEEEK!!!


A map can only mean that carnage is just around the corner!

*frantically searches through his songbook for a selection of dirges... just in case*



Posted on 2010-07-23 at 18:26:26.

Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off
Subject: Another installment, just cuz I was inspired...


The Hevlorn Council certainly offered up a considerable repast for the Freegate Heroes, Caicher noticed. The great table was laden with the finest food and drink the town had to offer; serving staff bustled about ensuring that cups never emptied and that empty plates never sat too long in front of their guests; and the Councilmen were so gracious and accommodating towards the adventuring troupe that one might have expected that Relg and the others were running for office and desperately trying to secure support from these new constituents… Perhaps they’ll offer to build a statue of them before lunch is finished, the bard chuckled to himself at one point as he pushed another empty plate away, or proclaim a Hero’s Day. Not that I would be one to blame them, mind you. Even if the legend of this lot is only half the truth – and I’m fairly, certain, already that half isn’t the half of it – it’s likely not a stretch for the Council to imagine the ‘quest’ as all but done.

Would that it were as easy to craft a song or a story from naught but expectation and excitement,
he mused, his gaze wandering the faces around the table as he took another pull from his bottomless flagon. A smile split his lips when his emerald eyes came to Dapple and he watched the lad poke a bit of food into the folds of his shadowy cloak where the little pseudo-dragon, Sunset, anxiously awaited the next mouthful. There is, perhaps, enough here for a prelude, Flynn admitted to himself, then, or an intro and opening verse. I have the feeling, though, that there will be a much larger composition to come from all of what’s ahead, though… and an epic to be made from all that is yet to be revealed…

Who is this mysterious ‘she’ that the faerie-dragon referred to, for instance? And what is this sudden talk of demons when, before, it was a fiction of vampires and missing cattle that had Granitecrusher dispatch them here?

…Ah, yes! Layers and layers of the tale are yet to be uncovered, I think, and, should all go as well as Fistele and the rest already seem convinced it will, there will be much more to follow this little expedition to the temple, won’t there?


That prospect alone excited Caicher Flynn enough that, despite having finished a single meal larger than the two he had eaten yesterday, the bard could no longer keep his seat and linger around the table when there were preparations to be made. “Well,” he beamed, thunking his finally empty flagon down on the table as he pushed away from the table and got to his feet, “I suppose this is the part where I would say ‘I’ll see you on the morrow’ but, as we’ll be taking the road out of town before that, I’m afraid that such a salutation would leave me out of the fun, hm? And, since I would truly hate for such a thing to happen, I’ll simply excuse myself to go and collect my things and leave you with a song and a tenna’telwan (until later).”

Still smiling, the troubadour bowed with a flourish, and, as he rose from that bow, the battered fiddle once more found its place nestled under the half-elf’s chin. The song that Flynn coaxed from the instrument as he began to dance a lap around the table was decidedly upbeat… given the rather glum (if not altogether out of sorts) disposition of the heroes since their arrival, Caicher decided that it couldn’t hurt to at least try and inject a bit of levity into them before they left…

You, you never looked so good
Sippin’ life down like I wish I could
But these sober tears are all that's left to shed
Sank his soul now made of lead

Face down beneath the rubble lies a man
Tales of the future already in the past
And of himself, well he hasn't much to say
But wake the Gods, it's Judgement day

He said, "I left my home where the dead never rose
But the streets of gold I’ve yet to find
And at the end of the day all you can do is pray
Without hope well you might as well be blind, yeah be blind
Tomorrow comes a day too soon, tomorrow comes a day too soon"

Angel, sweet angel of my youth
Where have you gone? You flew away too soon
The brick I built now builds a higher wall
See it crumble, hear me fall
There hangs the fool, who once had it all


By the beginning of the second refrain Flynn had made a complete circuit around the table, stopping to fiddle briefly beside each still occupied chair before moving on to the next, and, as he reached the seat he had recently abandoned, he whirled around, winked, and smiled before he danced towards the door, still playing and singing…

He said, "I left my home where the dead never rose
But the streets of gold I've yet to find
And at the end of the day all you can do is pray
Without hope well you might as well be blind, yeah be blind
Tomorrow comes a day too soon, tomorrow comes a day too soon"

And though the road has yet to rise
On these hundred years that passed me by
And the blood with the river flows
Through the crimson field never sewn
And no never sewn

He said, "I left my home where the dead never rose
But the streets of gold I've yet to find
And at the end of the day all you can do is pray
Without hope well you might as well be blind, yeah be blind
Tomorrow comes a day too soon, tomorrow comes a day too soon
Tomorrow comes a day too soon, tomorrow comes a day too soon"

Ah well you, you never looked so good


The song had danced him halfway across the town’s square before it ended and, as caught up in the music and the promise of pending adventure as he was, Caicher couldn’t help but play on as he continued on his way through the little hamlet towards the tiny cottage where he had been boarding with a lovely Sueli girl and her adoptive mother. As he went, he smiled and nodded to those who stopped to listen and, as often happened when Flynn strolled through the streets singing and dancing, had gathered up an impromptu audience of children who skipped along at his feet, requesting favorite songs and stories… They had followed him into the small shop where, for the price of a bawdy limerick and a handful of coppers, he acquired a deck of cards that could be used for fortune telling (he hadn’t actually told a fortune, himself, in some time, but his encounter with Sunset gave him cause to believe that the skill might be handy at some point) and, also, into a small butcher’s shop where (again, with thoughts of the little pseudo-dragon in mind) he traded a song for a string of spicy sausages that he would add to whatever other provisions he might set out with. Only when they reached the garden in front of the Sueli girl’s cottage did his apple-cheeked audience disperse in a hail of giggles and thanks and ‘G’bye, Caicher’s’…

The gypsy-bard smiled happily as he watched them go, promising new songs and stories when he returned, then, after they were gone, disappeared into the little cottage. For a short time, while he was gathering his gear and giving his thanks for the hospitality of his hostesses, the fiddle was silent but, when the front door of the house opened again and Flynn stepped back out into the day with pack, provisions, and professional gear at the ready, the bard’s music once more swelled in the air of the town just as excitement and expectation for the upcoming adventure swelled in his heart. The music, of course, followed him back through the town as he went to join up with his new companions and waned only after the party had found themselves outside of town and on the goat-path that led to the temple.

((OOC: And I guess that’s as far as I’ll go for the time being… I’ll wait for others to chime in before I add anything else… kind of like Caicher; standing in the garden (the fiddle held in one hand while the other rests on the hilt of the scimitar), observing his new ‘friends,’ making mental notes, and marveling at the temple before them… Also, thanks to Flogging Molly for the song/lyrics used in this post.))


Posted on 2010-07-23 at 18:23:39.

Topic: Dragonchat, you want to use it
Subject: Sounds like...


...a step on the road to revival to me.

Posted on 2010-07-23 at 13:03:27.

Topic: Dragonchat, you want to use it
Subject: But,,,but,,,but,,,


I was just there and didn't find any cookies!


P.S. Seriously, folks, I'm not a huge "chatter" myself (pointless and confusing PMs, sure) but it would be super-nice to see the chatrooms liven up again. Jump in there! I'll come and see ya!


Posted on 2010-07-23 at 00:19:52.
Edited on 2010-07-23 at 00:22:09 by Eol Fefalas

Topic: The Morphing Game
Subject: And carrying...


...cats.

Posted on 2010-07-22 at 23:33:44.

Topic: The One Word Game
Subject: And all that durn..


..interest!

Posted on 2010-07-22 at 23:33:03.

Topic: Red Dragon Inn Facebook page?
Subject: Indeed...


...thanks, Lady Vanadia.


Posted on 2010-07-22 at 23:31:43.

Topic: Red Dragon Inn Facebook page?
Subject: Woohoo! Who says the mind is first to go?


Thanks for the verification, Ruler... and, yes, stop by more often... I remember a time when your name had practically a permanent place in the Online members list.

Posted on 2010-07-22 at 20:48:42.

Topic: Red Dragon Inn Facebook page?
Subject: Already have one, actually...


...search for Friends of the Red Dragon Inn (I believe... at work, atm, and Facebook is blocked here, so I'm not 100% sure).

Posted on 2010-07-22 at 19:52:58.

Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off
Subject: A new perspective on life and love


The pseudo-dragon’s initial trepidation was a bit disheartening to Caicher, of course, and, out of respect for the little creature’s fear, the bard had been prepared to back off and allow the dragonet its privacy… “Very well, little one,” he cooed in the gypsy tongue, offering a placating smile to Sunset as he prepared to abandon his efforts, “you keep your secrets as you like, hm?”… No sense in agitating the poor little thing even further, now, is there, he thought, it’s obvious enough that she’s been through a great deal of…

It was then that the creature, perhaps, decided that Caicher was ‘worthy’ of knowing her tale and, in an instant that seemed like a lifetime, the bard saw, heard, and felt everything that Sunset had apparently decided he should know. There were long, anguishing days (Weeks? Months? Years?) of horrific torment and torture at the hands of a wizard who obviously had no respect for life or the natural order. Caicher felt the misery of those days as if he had lived them, himself, in the pseudo-dragon’s form; felt the pain of the ‘experiments’; felt the overwhelming grief at the loss of an egg-brother; felt the all-consuming sadness, depression, and, finally, the numb resignation to the reality of an entire lifetime spent in captivity with the only hopes of things getting better being the ending of that life… Then, when it seemed the darkness of existence had devoured even those morbid hopes and left him with nothing but the promise of more agony, there was a glimmer that sliced through the gloom as easily as the loathsome wizard’s instruments sliced through scaled flesh. A light that shone so brightly that even the hopeless could see a way to find faith and friendship in that darkest of places… and, at the end of it all, guarded like a treasure with all the fierceness of her much larger and more notorious kin, was the love that Sunset felt – and that Caicher now felt, too – for this group of “notdragons”… No. Not quite like that of a true dragon. Much more fierce and dedicated in her love and protection of this lot than even the biggest, most wicked red could ever be for a horde of mere gold and jewels… It was all so very overwhelming, feeling a hope and heart thought to be irrevocably broken in that darkness and then reforged in the light of a love that burned hotter than any dragonfire could ever do…

No one will harm them! No one will hurt them. Sunset will protect all, especially her.

…So overwhelming, in fact, that Flynn, as grateful as he was that the pseudo-dragon had shared her tale with him, was almost as grateful that she chose that moment to stop. The bard sucked in a gasping breath as Sunset slipped from his mind and, finally, stumbled back a step or two as he blinked away the tears of sorrow and joy that had welled up and comingled in his eyes. “Gestena (thank you),” he whispered to the little dragon as his gaze flicked quickly from one Freegate Hero to the next and he wondered who this ‘her’ might be, “she mandi dal kekke na brigaki (no harm will come to them from me).”

‘I believe lunch would be best served quickly,” Flynn heard the former Red say, “we don't want to delay. Forces are at work here that we cannot contend with absent the aid of the priests.”

“She’s protecting us, or she was,” Dapple’s voice came next, drawing the bard’s eye back to the young thief and the tiny dragon that perched on his shoulder…

“Especially her,” Flynn murmured half under his breath, still trying to make sense of whom the ‘her’ might be… Thedell’s sister had been with the troupe at one time, if the songs were to be believed, and so, too, had there been a barbarian woman amongst their numbers, but neither was with them now (nor had they been for a while)… Were it one of those that was so special to the creature, he mused, why would Sunset still be with this lot.

“…It’s hard to tell if this is something she’s doing, or done,” Dapple glanced at Adrian with a raised eyebrow, “or will do. Remember how those demons seemed to know us, but got some things wrong? Maybe that was Sunset.”

“Doing, done, or will do,” Caicher repeated softly, smiling a knowing smile at the dragonet and the dour-faced youth upon whom she perched, “My guess is all three, lad… with great determination and good cause… All of you are her life, you must realize, and her reason for being. She loves you deeply and will ever do for you what you have done for her.”

((OOC: Room for any sort of back and forth, interjection, etc, here… Flynn won’t make any mention or ask any questions as to whom the ‘her’ Sunset mentioned might be (not yet, anyway… not here…) but will certainly join the crew in lunch and won’t be shy about falling into conversation, etc… Got a bit more for the bard in the works but figured I’d post this much, now, as it’s a decent place to pause.))


Posted on 2010-07-22 at 16:31:12.

Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: No, not surprised...


...I don't think Sam was even surprised by that, actually... I do think, though, that it's like to twist his gut a bit and he'll likely have more issues with Pearson being on the boat than he might have had originally, though... especially given the look in the townfolks eyes and such.

Gunning down a lawman in front of witnesses may not be a great idea, but Sam's considering it... not liable to do it, of course, but definitely pondering on it some.

Posted on 2010-07-21 at 14:24:16.
Edited on 2010-07-21 at 14:25:02 by Eol Fefalas

Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Well...


...that'll be a bender, won't it?

Right interesting post...

Posted on 2010-07-21 at 14:11:23.

Topic: It's that time, again...
Subject: Thanks, Sonny-boy!


I hope it was yummylicious!

Posted on 2010-07-21 at 01:16:02.

Topic: It's that time, again...
Subject: I'm baaaaaack!!!


Looks like I missed some comings and goings that'll need caught up on, eh?

I'll get to that tomorrow, I think... after all that time on the road back home, Eol needs sleepy before slobbery! Just wanted to check in, let you know that I missed you all (had a great vacation in spite of that, though), and am looking forward to catching up.


Eol

Posted on 2010-07-21 at 01:14:07.

Topic: Anime Freaks Posting Game
Subject: Ooooh...


...who can forget...

Escaflowne! (Not a huge Anime fan, myself, but Escaflowne captured my attention and actually kept it for some reason.)

Posted on 2010-07-09 at 18:53:58.

Topic: World Cup Finals
Subject: What does Paul the Psychic Octopus say?


I'm rooting for the Netherlands, myself.

Posted on 2010-07-09 at 16:55:56.

Topic: It's that time, again...
Subject: Awww shucks!


Thanks, guys! I'll definitely have a good trip... I look forward to my week in the boonies every year and, even when the weather's not "perfect" I still find myself feeling so much happier and centered when I get back. Ahhhhhhhhh... I can feel it coming over me now....

Meri-luv, I'd never abandon you... if you really, really need me, just shoot me an e-mail at my work address and I'll get back to you as soon as I possibly can (read: when I can find a spot where there's a signal)... I'll have my blackberry with me (unfortunately) so that work can annoy me if they absolutely have to and, if the rassafrassin' thing has to bleep-bleep at me, I'd much rather it do so because one of my Innmates is pinging me as opposed to actual work... I'm on vacation fer the luv o' Alacrity!!!

I'll miss you all whilst I'm away, of course (that's not to say that I'm actually aiming at ya) but I imagine the week will fly by faster that I'm hoping and it won't be long before I'm sneaking back in through the basement and pouncing people from the rafters again.

Posted on 2010-07-09 at 16:53:45.

Topic: It's that time, again...
Subject: It's that time, again...


...for Eol to pack up his gear, slip the canoe into the river, and disappear into the mountains for a week or so. I'll be here for a good part of the rest of today but, after about 6 this evening, I'll be officially out on walkabout and probably won't have much access (if any) to the Inn.

I will be back, though... somewhere around the 19th or 20th... somebody be sure to facelick the newbies and keep the coffee brewing while I'm gone, eh?

Tenna'telwan,
Eol

Posted on 2010-07-09 at 15:01:18.

 
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