You are here: Home --> Forum Home --> Recent posts by Eol Fefalas
Topic: Hockey Season!!!
Subject: LOL
I like the Red Wings well enough but they seem to have become one of those teams where the 'old timers' who haven't managed to get to the Cup on other teams go to try and grab that glory before they're too old to play.  (Let the smiting begin, I suppose).
Same situation with some of the 'southern' teams... I love to watch the Bolts play, for example, but COME ON! How often does Florida even get any real ice? Never could figure out why ice hockey teams ever ended up in states where it doesn't even snow. If your state's ponds don't freeze over in the winter, you shouldn't play hockey there!  (Does that make me a weather bigot?)
Ya know... Minnesota at least made the quarter finals and since Dallas of all places stole the orignal Northstars, maybe I will look north and start cheering on the Wild. Or I could always fall back on the Canucks. 
Posted on 2008-05-01 at 18:17:35.
|
Topic: Hockey Season!!!
Subject: Go, Bluejackets!
No... really... go... I can't cheer for you anymore, home team or not. 5 plus years and you still haven't even seen the playoffs from a distance! WTF?!?!?! 
May have to find a new team next season... 
Posted on 2008-05-01 at 17:52:43.
|
Topic: Star Trek: Operation:Persephone - Q&A
Subject: *sigh* Delays, delays...
...always delays.
Sorry for the lack of updates on my part, folks... Seem to ahve stumbled into a serious case of writer's block where Cap'n Jack is concerned and am havign a bit of a time 'settling back into the character' (for lack of a better term)... Still working at it though... Guess i need some aggrivation IRL or something.
Hoping the block crumbles soon...
Posted on 2008-05-01 at 16:57:24.
|
Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Condoms?!?!
Ya mean Miss Will didn't slip none inta Dash's pocket for he went traipsin' off? 
Well, I hates ta ruin another bandanda but a fella's gotta do what a fella's gotta do.
Posted on 2008-05-01 at 16:36:16.
|
Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Hehehe...
...the great Fuzzy Wuzzy keeps an all-seein' eye out fer them as is twitchy.
Smokers and not concussion grenades, though, huh? Kay-o! That works.
Posted on 2008-05-01 at 16:33:08.
|
Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: "Cap'n says we don't need 'em..."
Heck yeah, I brought grenades! Brought a couple of flashbangs and a concussion melon or two, I think... along with the Avenger, the shot gun, and the derringers, if I remember correctly... have to check the posts that far back to be sure but I'm thinking Dash got off the ship 'loaded for bear'!
Posted on 2008-05-01 at 16:11:23.
|
Topic: Q&A: The Return Of The Prodigal Son
Subject: Speaking of funds...
...I still need to finish gearing Spider up and fidning out what kind of money he's got left.
Thanks for the reminder.
Posted on 2008-05-01 at 15:00:57.
|
Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: *nods*
Yup... an' I'll do just that very thing, too... 
I think I mentioned something about that in my OOC, didn't I? maybe I didn't... I'll have to go look...
Can I get fries with that?
Posted on 2008-05-01 at 14:06:27.
|
Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: More humped than a Reaver in a lovebot factory...
...is how this is starting to look for Dash, the more I think about it.
First, he's off galivantin' around town with the mayor/mine owner/parliament dude's woman - tryin' to score with her no less.
Second, said woman (unbeknownst to Sam, of course) ain't the lady he might like to imagine her bein'.
Third... well... OW! MY NETHERS!!!
Fourth, given items one, two, and three, you've got a bunch of shadey-dudes eyeballin' the bank with Sam goin' in and the rest of the gorram town already runnin' t'other way.
Humpity-hump-humped! Humptiy-hump-humped! Lookit Sammy go!
Humpity-hump-humped! Humptiy-hump-humped! I don' reckon he can take no mo'!
*insert fairly poor harmonica playing and gunfire track here*
Somebody... he'p me?
Posted on 2008-05-01 at 03:41:13.
|
Topic: Q&A: The Return Of The Prodigal Son
Subject: And, Flirty, dear...
...a humongous thanks to you for the tale!
Didja think I'd forget ya?
Posted on 2008-05-01 at 03:11:30.
|
Topic: Q&A: The Return Of The Prodigal Son
Subject: *blush*
Thanks folks... mighty kind words and I'm glad you're all enjoying the posts. I do find Spider quite entertaining to write for and, if it weren't for DA's planting the seed of the initial concept in my noggin, I might've never come up with him... Thanks DA.
Now, just so you all know... I'm not writing this all on my own... your characters actions and such are as vital to what I write as my own thoughts are, so, thank all of you for helping me get into this character.
C'mon Khalessian... Join yonder party.
Posted on 2008-05-01 at 03:05:46.
|
Topic: The Return of the Prodigal Son
Subject: Reunion - The Illusion Revealed
It was going well as far as Spider could tell to this point. He was managing to keep his eyes from returning to the illusion/girl at the bar and, as yet, none of the group at the table had demanded that he leave them be or so much as shown irritation at his interruption.
“Spider, eh,” the one known hereabouts as Firedancer chuckled, “not much of a name for a…”
The mage’s sentence stopped there, leaving Spider to wonder after what the man had been about to say… Not much of a name for a point-ear, breeder? Is that what you were going to say? Not much of a name for a bastard half-blood?!... Damnable humans! Just as condescending as elves but with less than a tenth of the reason to be so!… Spider’s grin widened a bit, as opposed to voicing any of those ingrained reactions to a likely misperceived slighting.
It’s probably nothing like that, he reasoned with himself, mages are notoriously odd, at any rate, and if he had that kind of prejudice, why should he be in the company of these others? Spider realized, then, that Ulfgar’s statement had fallen into oblivion because someone else had approached the table.
“Sorry to interrupt,” a hauntingly familiar voice said, “but I believe you ordered a pint?”
Spider’s eyes narrowed a bit as he glanced, first, at Ulfgar wondering if the mage might not still be mucking about in his mind and conjuring forth horribly cruel illusions with which to taunt him. “I did,” Spider nodded after deciding that Ulfgar appeared more interested in his food than in the goings on with a newly introduced sneak-thief, “and a round for these fine folk, as well…” He was almost afraid to look up. Afraid of what his eyes might find when he did. Afraid that, if he did, what he saw might drive him instantly mad and complete whatever sadistic torture had been visited on him since his return to Thyatis. He knew, also, that if he didn’t look up, he’d likely be thought mad by the folk in this place, anyway, and the torture, then would be completed just the same.
It’s not going to be her. It can’t be her. It’s not going to be her. This was the Shadowblade’s mantra as he steeled himself for what he was about to do. He masked his delay by fishing into a belt pouch for a few coins and, stitching a decidedly roguish smile to his lips, finally lifted his eyes to meet the barmaid who was delivering his ale.
As his eyes met hers, though, that smile disappeared with the dropping of his jaw and, as the coin that had just slipped from his fingers clattered on the tavern’s floor, he blinked. “Gods help me,” he heard himself whisper, “It is you…”
In Spider’s mind, he was with her again in that alley all those years ago. They were standing in front of the gate and she had just protested climbing to the other side without him. In the tavern in Thyatis, he reached out a trembling hand to touch his fingers to her lips just as he had then. The feel of those rose-petal lips beneath his fingers broke him at that moment and his voice might have even cracked a bit as he whispered her name.
“Darli?”
Like that night all those years ago, his fingers traced tenderly away from her lips, pushing a spill of onyx-hued curls from her cheek as he took a step closer to her and blinked, once again, into her eyes. His other hand lifted, too, and mirrored the path of the first. As his fingers entwined themselves in her hair and tilted her head forward, Tristan closed his eyes, and possibly on the verge of shedding a tear, completed the memory and kissed her lovingly on the top of her head. “You were supposed to run,” he whispered, scarcely loud enough for any to hear.
He couldn’t bear to open his eyes at just this moment so, instead, and because he had wanted nothing more for so long, Tristan Drôst pulled Darlthenia as close as he was able and held her tightly against him, not caring that his fresh mug of ale had just been dropped to the floor. “Dammit, Darli-luv, you were supposed to run,” he whispered, kissing her on the top of her head once more.
Then, tilting her face up towards his so that he might look into her eyes without thinking he was losing his mind, he smiled at her and allowed his glittering eyes to follow his fingertips as they gingerly explored her face… Just the way I remember you… “I’ve missed you,” he admitted before kissing her again… this time not on the top of her head.
((OOC: There ya go, folks… we’re closing this one with a surprise reunion and a passionate kiss, I suppose… the tale rolls on at your leisure… *bows*… Love to have Spider get to know the rest before we go traipsing off into the whoknowswhere… ))
Posted on 2008-05-01 at 02:59:16.
Edited on 2008-05-01 at 03:30:10 by Eol Fefalas
|
Topic: Q&A: The Return Of The Prodigal Son
Subject: I think...
...Asheera is DM's paladin character is it not? Or is it Brianna that's playing the paladin? I get those two confused pretty regularly...
Should have another update ready soon, folks.
Posted on 2008-04-30 at 20:06:53.
|
Topic: Voyages of Rocinante - Serenity/Firefly RPG
Subject: Oh yeah... I think I know lonely, ma'am...
Sam hadn’t missed Wyatt’s unspoken warning, of course, but he couldn’t quite figure it out, neither. Hell, he couldn’t figure why everyone on the ruttin’ crew seemed so put-off by this gorram gorgeous slice of schoolmarm… hints and rumors as what Wolf had seen fit to spill on the woman could easily be explained away as so much jealousy, after all. He was sure that there were some right fine looking females on this rock but, so far, Sam hadn’t seen one as all-fired angelic as Miss Brigit. Catty as some females get, Dash figured, ain’t no wonder there’s that kinda mi tian gohn talk ‘bout ‘er.
Still, Wyatt was the closest thing that Sam had to a trusted friend in this ‘Verse, so the warning – peculiar as it might’ve seemed – didn’t go unheeded. Yeah, Wyungsung, he chuffed inwardly even as he acknowledged Wyatt’s gesture with a faint nod of his own, Ol’ Sam’ll be sure not ta let li’l Sam get inna way, puhn yoh. Don’ you fret none.
Soon enough, Dash was bound for the bank, blissfully arm-in-arm with the heavenly Brigit. Ta mah duh, but she even smells pretty, Sam thought as his eyes roamed over the woman, This’s like ta be as close as ya ever get ta grapplin’ with someone as can hold a candle ta th’ likes o’ Miss Will, Sam-o… don’ go humpn’ it up.
“So Mr. Dash is it,” Brigit cooed as they strolled along toward the bank.
“Yes ma’am,” Dash nodded, forcibly tearing his eyes from her body and lifting them to meet her gaze, “Ya ain’t gotta call me Mister, though, bao bei. Sam’ll do… or jus’ plain’ ol’ Dash.”
“What’s it like flying a ship from planet to planet? Must be rather exciting?”
“It’s got its moments, I reckon,” Sam nodded, offering up his best ‘fly-boy smile’, “Most times, though, I don’t rekon it’s much off from any other job as a feller might get dirtside… other’n bein’ landlocked all yer gorram life an’ never gettin’ ta see the world an’ all, that is… most o’ th’ time it ain’t much more’n holdin’ th’ wheel an’ makin’ sure as not ta go bangin’ inta nuthin’ else… Cap don’ shine much ta them as go crashin’ his boat, get me?”
She had been walking them along through the nicer section of town up until this point and Sam hadn’t really noticed; when she took a turn that pointed them towards the back end of one of Frisco’s saloons, though, a slightly twitchy fluttering passed through his gut. “Where we headed, Miss Brigit,” he asked, eyes skimming the surroundings before returning to the woman.
“There’s a quicker way to the bank,” she explained simply.
He nodded, accepting that reply; “Ku.”
“So, darlin’,” he asked, ignoring the prickling on the back of his neck, “what about you? How’d you end up a schoolmarm out her on this hunk o’ dirt?”
“Me,” she replied, “Not much to tell. Came here a year ago or so. I’m intended to JW now; he’s the owner of the mine as well as a parliamentary seat holder. I guess I found a man that will allow me to have whatever I might need for myself in the future.”
Don’ give a big damn shiny ‘bout who yer intended to, sweetness, he started to think, It’s my intentions as ya should be concerned wit’. Sam’s gut flipped at the mention of JW holding a seat in Parliament , though, and, he reckoned, it was right then that his paranoia started to overrun his lust. Way ta go, ya gorram grapple monkey! Spend all that time stayin’ on th’ dodge from the purple-bellies an’ now here ya are tryin’ ta lift th’ skirt of some parliamentary poozle! Wyatt’s warning was starting to make a little more sense…
“Hell, I don’ reckon so,” he grinned back at her, still trying to calm the twitchy that he felt climbing slowly up his spine, “Ya got th’ mine an’, as I hear it, them as what sit on Parliament ain’t usually hurtin’ fer credits. Sounds’s if ya got th’ good life goin’ fer ya.”
She nodded half-heartedly before replying; “Truth be told, though, with him gone so much, there be many a time when I’m sorely lonely.”
Brigit stopped walking then, and, with a tear in her eye stepped in very close. “You couldn’t know of the loneliness a woman feels,” she almost purred…
Sam’s body started tingling from head to foot just then and, for the life of him, he couldn’t tell if it was the twitchy or the horny that was doing it. The way he reacted, though, it was the horny that had the upper hand; he nodded faintly, licking his lips and watching her mouth form the words as she continued, his arms opening a bit in hopes of accepting her against him.
“…months without her man to hold her and make her feel wanted …needed…desired” the last word came out as a whisper and her head tilted up towards him, practically begging for a taste of his lips.
“The hell I can’t,” Dash murmured, fully prepared to pull her against him and kiss her so as to make her toes curl. The heat between them was undeniable and Sam figured that, if she’d let him, he’d be apt to take her right here on this street.
That moment died an excruciating death, though, when the sound of a Firefly’s engines (burning in for the Port Authority from the sounds of it) rumbled in the air and, Brigit, wearing an expression that said ‘I just got caught with a boy in my room,’ backed away from him, leaving nothing but empty space between his arms and aterrible ache in his nethers.
“Ah,” Sam huffed under his breath as his eyes flicked skyward in search of the Firefly, “Jao gao! Nothin’ ever goes smooth!”
“Well, we best get to the bank and soon,” Brigit suggested as if she’’d already let go of that moment, “ Nora and John will no doubt want to close early to see JW arrive.”
“Yeah,” Sam nodded, deliberating whether or not driving a fist into his own crotch might not help, “I reckon so. Don’t nobody wanna miss the big-wig’s homecomin’ ta S#^*town, do they? Hell, he might be bringin’ presents!”
With a disappointed adjusting of his gunblet, Sam followed Brigit out onto the open street, his eyes ticking first to the sign that labeled the place “Pat Mallory’s Salloon,” then tracking to the general store, and, finally, the bank. The schoolmarm took hold of his arm once more and, as he was trying to pay attention to the throng of people rushing off for the landing site, started in with her small talk. “Now tell me about your Captain. He seems a very grim man, very serious and proper. You think he might be interested in a venture that might hook him some good money?”
“Wyatt,” Sam shrugged, his gaze narrowing a bit as he spotted a man standing in the shadows of Mallory’s, “ain’t much to tell, really. Been flyin’ his boat fer the past few years… know ‘im a bit better’n most might, I reckon… but like ya says, darlin’, he’s pretty grim most o’ the time an’ that’s the size o’ it. Far as work’s concerned, I figger the Cap’s always got an open ear fer opportunity, get me? Best I c’n tell ya, though, is talk ta him ‘bout it…”
Unlike the rest of the townsfolk, the guy in the shadows made no move to hurry off to the Port Authority to greet Frisco’s apparent benefactor and, as good as Brigit smelled, and felt, and looked, Dash suddenly found himself able to ignore the desperate ache in his groin in deference to thins lingerin’ lookey-lou… Wong bah duhn’s watchin’ th’ bank, aint he?
Sam’s mouth went dry and his fingers might have wiggled a little as his hand drifted towards the butt of his revolver. Following the shadow-lurker’s line of sight, the scruffy pilot happened to notice that there was another ‘stand-about Sally’ hanging around outside the other saloon… also watching the bank… and another pair of them doing a piss-poor job of pretending to look at axe handles in front of the General Store… Mebbe they’s jus’ not big fans o’ ol’ JW, he tried to tell himself even as one hand fell to rest on the Avenger’s grips, an’ would rather jus’ eyeball th’ hole where all th’ town’s money’s kept…Yeah… and I’m a registered companion!
His other hand found the small of Brigit’s back and, as his whiskey-hued eyes narrowed to slits, ticking between the obvious lingerbackers, ushered her in a more hurried fashion towards the bank. “Don’ mean ta rush ya none, Miss Brigit,” he rumbled as his thumb flipped loose the strap that kept the pistol secure in it’s holster, “but we might wanna get this transfer outta the way, right quick… I’m gettin’ the feelin’ that there’s other folks lookin’ to make a sizeable withdraw, too.”
((OOC: Okay, let’s leave it there for now… Sam’s still in the rut for Brigit, of course, but the shady-types watching the bank have set him on edge… assuming he gets Brigit into the bank before any of the ‘watchers’ make a move, Sam will 1) try to contact Wyatt (or anyone aboard Roc and ‘share his suspicions’ … “Send the Kid an’ his girlfriends, Cap… this one’s lookin’ ta be a barn-burner” and 2) if any of the ‘watchers’ appear to be heading for the bank, Dash’ll try to convince anyone inside to beat feet out the back way (protecting the innocent, you know) and maye try to play teller his own self… a couple of flashbangs and guns at the ready, of course.))
Posted on 2008-04-30 at 18:10:01.
Edited on 2008-04-30 at 18:35:26 by Eol Fefalas
|
Topic: RDI T-shirts
Subject: Sweet! Bloomers!
How about some boxers with a logo something like, "My DM at the Red Dragon Inn made me $#!t in these!... Adventure awaits make sure you have clean underwear... www.rdinn.net"
Posted on 2008-04-30 at 17:20:39.
|
Topic: RDI T-shirts
Subject: Sizes range from...
...halfling petite all the way up to T-shirts of ogre size +4. Get one for each of your charatcers.
Posted on 2008-04-30 at 16:40:34.
|
Topic: The Return of the Prodigal Son
Subject: Dream? Nightmare? Poisoned ale? Hi. I'm Spider!
Cloaked in the tavern’s shadows as he was, Tristan had managed to slip closer to the group whose conversation revolved around the posters and the ‘mission’ to discover what had become of the missing beggars without drawing much notice it seemed. For the longest time, he was content to sit, passively listening to the banter of the growing party, and nurse his own mug of ale as he did so. The posters he had seen, of course, indicated a reward would be granted to those who chose to participate and, he had heard elsewhere, that provisions and horses would even be supplied for those that accepted the job, so he wasn’t at all surprised to find such a diverse group gathering together in hopes of tackling this quest. A grand adventure for those who seek glory and fame and a tidy profit for those whose motivations might be other than honorable, he grinned faintly around the rim of his tankard, always the surest way of cobbling together the widest variety of folk to send off to their dooms, isn’t it? When you’re not sure of which weapon to pick, throw them all, right?
After indulging in a muted chuckle at his own joke, the Shadowblade had been set to start sorting through the group; trying to determine what might have drawn each of them to this quest. He recalled having noticed the fire-wielding mage among them before and, given the odd man’s impromptu display a bit earlier, figured that, like most wizards, this one was looking to sharpen his skills, perhaps gain a bit of notoriety, and put a nice chunk of coin in his purse. Magic users of any ilk seemed typically to be motivated by mish-mash combinations of things that often were incomprehensible to those who didn’t dabble in the turnings of arcane energies, he reminded himself, punctuating the thought with another swallow of ale. Spider’s gaze slid away from the party’s only human then, slipping past those at the table who were (like himself) of mixed heritage, and making assessments of the true elves in the lot…
It wasn’t that the halfbreeds didn’t interest him, of course, but Tristan already knew what it was like to be them. Disavowed, denied, and even shunned by both races who contributed to your existence; all alone, you took what skills you had and you made the best of them and you lived by your own hand or you desperately and foolishly tried, time and again, to be accepted by the communities of either your father or your mother, hoping to get guidance from some sort of family, perhaps some assistance or some training even, and you died a fools death. No, the half-elves at that table were of the former lot, he knew; their very presence here was testament to that. The true elves, though… his mother’s people from what he had been told… they were the ones that Spider thought warranted their inspection first. These were the ‘fair folk;’ the graceful, willow, painfully beautiful creatures that, for as long as his memory could travel back, never found his ears quite pointy enough to accept him. Who thought that the stink of his human blood might be all too much to bear, even for as comparatively a short time as he might have lived compared to them. Seldom did elves stoop to interfere in the lives of humans or half-breeds, but when they did, Spider always found himself curious as to how they were so different from their kin… like Darli always had been.
Spider’s ale was drained by the time he had completed his study of the ranger and the battlecleric and his attentions had shifted to the Priest of Khoronous; between the ale and his initial appraisals, he had decided that shadowing for such a group might not be a bad idea… If Dark Hand’s chap is half-alert, he’ll likely be thinking the same, he mused, moving to signal the barmaid for another tankard before finally introducing himself to the group. When his gaze flicked away from their table, though, Tristan caught sight of a dark-haired elven girl entering the place and nearly fell out of his seat. He righted himself quickly and quietly enough, and few in the place probably thought anything of it had they noticed, but even having saved himself from feigning a drunken stupor, Spider couldn’t help but think that was exactly what he was in…
It can’t be, he told himself, tearing his eyes from the girl just long enough to cast a suspicious glance into his empty mug.
No signs of poison or powders. His gaze snapped back to the girl, again, as she approached the bar.
The way she moves, though, he argued with himself, and that hair…and…
Sensing his eyes on her, perhaps, the girl looked his way for an instant. He almost gasped in shock, then, but instead, bit down hard on the inside of his lip and forced himself to sink back into his chair, wrapping himself in the comfortable cloak of shadows that he hoped served to mask his thoughts as well as his actions. … those eyes! It has to be her!
No, no, no, he told himself, his palm itching for the hilt of a dagger as his golden eyes darted stealthily around the place but unerringly set focus back on her,she’s dead. She has to be. Otherwise, why wouldn’t she have come to the cave? Why would I have never found her? This…This is an illusion… a glamour cast by some thought scrying mage… He cast a suspicious, almost angry glance at the Firedancer before letting his eyes be returned to the elven lass at the bar.
It was then that she spoke - he couldn’t quite make out the words over the din of the tavern, but the sound of her voice… the tone and rhythm of it… May there never be another moonless night if that’s not Darli!
For the first time in a long time, Tristan “Spider” Drôst was at an utter loss as to what to do. Part of him wanted to storm across the bar, take this elven woman who looked so very much like Darlthenia into his arms and cry. Another part of him wanted to wake from this horridly cruel dream. Yet another part wanted to beg that damned fire-fondling wizard to take this illusion away. The rest just wanted to snatch he poisoned dagger from where it was sheathed at the nape of his neck and plunge it into his own chest… Only way to be sure you’re not dreaming, Spider…
“Dammit,” he spat, suddenly snatching back his hand when he realized that, in fact, had been inching towards that blade. Then, realizing that he had just uttered the curse aloud, played into his own surprise and offered a sheepish grin in reply to any eyes that might have turned his way. “Dammit,” he repeated, this time snickering a little for effect, “Someone’s gone and drank all my ale, again.”
Spider rose from his seat and separated himself from the shadowed corner and strolled, somewhat indirectly, towards the group of adventurers he had been watching. “Barkeep,” he barked, unable to take his eyes off of the girl just yet but hoping to skew perceptions otherwise, “Another pint, if you please!” He blinked and forced himself to look in the direction of the Firemage. It was enough to veer his feet from their course to the bar and in the direction of their table. “And a round all about for the group at that table,” he added, gesturing in their direction with his empty tankard even as he tried to steal one more glance at the dark haired elf.
No! With the ghost of a smile playing on his lips he forced himself to stride purposefully towards the table where Velkyn, Ulfgar, Amiri, and the rest had gathered. Just don’t look and the illusion will pass!
“I’ve been listening to you,” he grinned mischievously as he reached their table, his golden eyes darting from face to face, “and if what I’m hearing means what I think, ladies and gents, you’re apt to require my services.
Now, my real name’s probably not the wisest thing to know in some company, but most folks call me Spider.”
((OOC: And there you have it… Introductions are made and Spider’s desperately trying to ignore the ‘illusion’ that is Darlthenia… I figure Spider’s ‘playing up’ the stereotypical, crafty, sneak-thief persona here, as much to distract himself as anything else. ))
Posted on 2008-04-29 at 23:59:38.
|
Topic: Q&A: The Return Of The Prodigal Son
Subject: I'll definitely try...
...to update today. Got several other games that are waiting for my replies, as well, but I' hoping to get posts out for each before the day is out.
Working on Trilogy, now... Got Rocinante up, too... need to get something finished for Persephone (rassafrassin writer's block...lost my grip on Cap'n Jack somewhere )...etc, etc, etc. DA did a great job in opening up a place for me to post, though, so an update for this one shouldn't be too bad.
Posted on 2008-04-29 at 15:24:40.
|
Topic: Q&A: The Return Of The Prodigal Son
Subject: Me too!
Vote every day, people. You have the power.
Anyhoo... finally got Spider more or less 'caught up' with the rest. I promise to try and keep any future posts from getting too awful long (my first ones in any game are usually pretty lenghty, anyway, just so I can get myself 'into the character' so to speak... anyway, now that that's done, I'm pretty confident that Spider will be able to interact with no problem and have posts in the future that don't require a cup of coffee and an hour and a half to read! ).
Game on, party-peeplz!
Posted on 2008-04-28 at 20:08:29.
|
Topic: The Return of the Prodigal Son
Subject: Memories of Thyatis
This morning
It was raining when he caught sight of the first, faded sign that marked the outer limits of Thyatis. Not a true rain, perhaps more the sort of heavy, clinging morning mist that often heralded the dawning of an early summer’s morning following a night of earth-replenishing showers – but enough that, after having ridden through it for better than an hour, his cloak was heavy with the clinging damp and his jet-hued hair clung to his face in water-plastered strands. As he neared the sign, he reined his horse in and, for a long moment, sat in the middle of the road, solemnly contemplating the remaining ribbon of road that wound from this point to the city proper.
There had been a time when Tristan Drôst had thought he might make a life in this place. The buzz and bustle of Thyatis City had appealed greatly to the part of him that was a burgeoning thief, while the pastoral beauty of the outlying areas made the elfin blood that flowed in his veins absolutely sing with an indescribable joy. In those days, he remembered, Thyatis had seemed to have the same effect on Darli, too, and, of course, her happiness was all the justification Tristan had ever needed. Like his dreams of that idyllic life, though, he had lost Darli here all those years ago. Just as the rolling, verdant landscape of the countryside was suddenly interrupted by the hardened, grimy scar of civilization, so too, had those buoyant, boyhood fantasies been dashed with an unexpected abruptness…
How many years ago was that, he wondered, lifting one hand from where it rested on the saddlehorn to push a sopping fall of hair from his eyes, Seven? Ten? Tristan sighed softly and sat staring at the not-so-distant city for a moment longer. There are times when it seems an entire lifetime ago, Tristan mused, and others – like now, as I see Thyatis, again – when it could have all just happened yesterday.
…The job had gone horribly wrong … if it had ever been intended to go well in the first place. Tristan suspected that he, and as a result, Darlthenia, had been set up to take the fall on this one; probably for nothing more than to provide cover for a bigger operation somewhere else in the city. Whatever the reason behind it - be it a misstep that had triggered an alarm (doubtful, of course, but never out of the question) or if, as he suspected, they had been offered up as a token sacrifice – Tristan and Darlthenia had been discovered, very nearly captured, and were currently being pursued through the darkened streets of Thyatis by a force of private guardsmen and city law enforcement at least thrice the size of what their ‘worst case scenario’ might have ever indicated.
As they sprinted along a narrow thoroughfare very near to the section of the city known as Axetown, he heard Darli gasp in surprise and come to a sudden stop. “Tristan,” Darli’s breathless voice shuddered as she pointed to a group of heavily armed fighters which had just appeared in the road ahead, blocking yet another planned escape route, “look! We’re done for!”
“Dammit,” Tristan hissed, more than a little panicked by the seemingly never-ending supply of guardsmen that had been set upon them but more upset by the panic in Darlthenia’s large, emerald eyes and the heart-wrenching tone of defeat and resignation in her voice. “Not quite yet, Darli,” he promised through clenched teeth as he grabbed her by the wrist and dashed off down a narrow, garbage choked alley way (hopefully before the latest group of pursuers had spotted them)… Not both of us, anyway, he added mentally as they scrambled madly through the labyrinth of refuse and rubble. At its end, the alley dumped into another, perpendicular passage, making a ‘T’ shaped intersection. The branch to the left was closed off, Tristan knew, by a heavy iron gate some thirty feet from the intersection where they now stood. The branch to the right, though, after a couple of hundred feet, spilled out into a nameless street that unofficially marked the outer boundary of Axetown… There will surely be soldiers waiting for us at the end of that route, he scowled, frantically trying to formulate a plan that would, at least, see that Darlthenia would escape this escapade with both life and liberty intact.
“Down here!” He heard the shouts of the guards from the other end of the alley, “He’s trapped for sure… No way out of this one…”
Then, from the intersecting street from the direction of Axetown; “We’ve got ‘im boxed in, lads. He goes through us or he goes through Astor and his lot…”
“Dammit!” Tristan spat, again. Then, without giving it another thought, took Darlthenia’s hand again and made a dash for the gate. Once there, he smiled warmly at the elfin girl who had been his friend for as long as he could recall (and, were he brave enough to admit it to her, whom he had loved for almost as long) and brushed a long curling spill of her onyx-hued locks from her face. “You get over this gate, Darli-luv,” he said, “and once you get on the other side, you run, okay? And don’t stop running until you’re out of this city…”
“But, Tristan, I…” she started to protest.
“Shh,” he interrupted, placing his fingertips to her lips, “just go. Get over that gate and go. Meet me at the cave, okay? That’s where I’ll be once I’ve shaken this lot of bum-wranglers.” Before she could protest further, Tristan kissed her atop her head and quickly boosted her upwards to help her over the blockade.
“Good girl,” he whispered as her feet made contact with the cobbles on the other side of the gate and he heard her footsteps whisper away. Then, before the guardsmen had the time to reach the intersection of the alleyways, Tristan dashed back out in the direction of Axetown.
“Catch me if you can, bastards,” he shouted, making sure that any pursuers were alerted to him alone and called off of Darlthenia’s trail…
Shaking his head, Tristan dispelled the memory even as his gaze ticked towards the nearby hill where that long-ago mentioned cave probably still waited for them. He had made it there several hours later – with more than a handful of cuts and scrapes and blood on his hands to show for it – and had waited for the better part of another entire day for Darli to show. She never did, though, and once he convinced himself to search Thyatis for her, again, Thyatis’ law enforcement officials had somehow managed to be alerted to his hiding place. He had barely escaped the cave before another, well-armed posse arrived and tore the place apart looking for any trace of him. He had never seen Darlthenia again after that night, though not a day since had passed that he didn’t think of her. He had often wondered, over the years that had passed, if she had managed to escape or if, gods forbid, she had been captured and tortured (or worse) for her involvement in his escapades.
The rain had stopped, he realized, suddenly, and the sun was well on its way to brightening the new day. He squinted in the direction of the rising daystar, in hopes of forcing those grim memories and imaginings of what might have become of Darli from his mind, then set heel to his horse’s flanks and urged the iron gray mare on to Thyatis. Plenty of time to wallow in ages old misery, Spider, he assured himself, after the job is done.
Now
The posters calling for adventurers to investigate the disappearances in Axetown had assailed him even before he had made the city gates and, as per their intent, had directed him to a once familiar tavern where yet another poster advised that those interested should inquire within. He pretended to ignore the posters, of course, and, instead, slipped quietly into the tavern under the pretense of simply getting a bit to eat, a drink, and perhaps some supplies. For a long while, he occupied a small table situated near the back of the place, watching and listening and gleaning any bit of information he could from those overheard snippets…
It wasn’t long before his attentions were firmly fixed (though not obviously) on a small but growing group of individuals whose conversation had, following some manner of introductions, turned towards their obvious intent to investigate the disappearances of these beggars in Axetown. He made a point of maneuvering closer to where the group was beginning to gather, hoping to hear more of why they would be undertaking this expedition, trying to determine which of them might be the Dark Hand’s ‘man’, and, most importantly, deciding if he might be better served to join this growing group or if he might not be better off making his own way into the undercity.
((OOC: okay… far enough, I suppose. Spider is ‘close by’ in the Tavern and watching the rest who have gathered with interest but, for RP purposes, still hasn’t committed to ‘joining the expedition’… He’s liable to freak when Darlthenia shows, though.
Edit: updated to correct misspelling of DA's character's name. ))
Posted on 2008-04-28 at 19:20:29.
Edited on 2008-04-28 at 19:42:37 by Eol Fefalas
|
Topic: Q&A: The Return Of The Prodigal Son
Subject: *cringes*
Ooo! I forgot all about Persephone!  Started writing/catching up with that one, hit a writer's bump, and then... just... forgot to go back to it... Aw geez... I'm sooo behind. *makes a note to dig up that post and finish it*
Anyhoo... almost done with my latest, here. Hoping to have it ready to go soon (getting to be rather lengthy but sets some things up rather nicely, too).
Posted on 2008-04-28 at 15:41:01.
|
Topic: Q&A: The Return Of The Prodigal Son
Subject: Gnarly...
...I'f I'm not mistaken, Kaelyn, this will be the first that you and I have played together. Looking forward to it...
Posted on 2008-04-28 at 00:36:22.
|
Topic: Q&A: The Return Of The Prodigal Son
Subject: Awww shucks...
...thanks, Hammer.
Glad I could finally come up with something that I could 'get into,' as well. *thanks and huggles to DA for the inspiration* Hated to let Flirty down like that, you know.
Anyhoo... glad you enjoyed the post... Hoping to have pt 2 (Spider shows up in Thyatis) up tonight - or by the end of the weekend, at least.
Looking forward to gaming with you... Seems like DM, Brianna, and I end up in a lot of games together, lately. *waves at the ladies*
Posted on 2008-04-26 at 15:15:14.
|
Topic: I'm back.
Subject: *rubs eyes in disbelief*
*blinks*
No...way...
LOU!!!!!
Welcome back, man! Good to see you're still suckin' air!
Posted on 2008-04-25 at 21:46:25.
|
Topic: Dragonfly in the Black
Subject: Sphinx says
"..."
Lady Vanadia as a gunslinger... *grins*... I'm all atwitter waiting to see that character.
Posted on 2008-04-25 at 17:51:27.
|
| |
View/Edit Your Profile | Staff List | Contact Us
Use of the RDINN forums or chatrooms constitutes agreement with our Terms of Service.You must enable cookies and javascript to use all features of this site.
|
|
What game do you own the 
Return to Charadun - Q&A
The Morphing Game
Return to Charadun - Recr
