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Topic: Marine
Subject: HooRAH!
Semper Fi, Devil Dog!
Congratulations and, of course, thanks.
Posted on 2008-05-23 at 01:32:36.
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Topic: Q&A: The Return Of The Prodigal Son
Subject: I liked it!
Great song. 
Posted on 2008-05-22 at 18:59:47.
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Topic: G'day
Subject: Heighdy!
Welcome aboard, Meri! As always, it's always a pleasure to see new faces here at the Inn (even if they have been RPing at those other sites  ). I'm sure you'll find exactly what you're looking for hereabouts... Checking the recruitment forums is always a good place to start for games with openings available, of course, and, as for those 'non-dice' games, we've got TONS... check the freeform section for the extensive list.
Some freeforms are 'open' and have 'standing invites' to jump right on in, whereas some others might need you to check with the GM/DM/M&M in charge... No worries, there, either, though, as I'm sure you'll find that all of our Innmates are about as friendly as they come.
If you've got any questions, just ask... someone'll come a runnin in no time. 
Posted on 2008-05-22 at 18:43:32.
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Topic: Q&A: The Return Of The Prodigal Son
Subject: *pokes the game*
Hello?
Hello...ello...ello?
Anyone here?
here...here...here?
Just checking to see if everyone's still breathin'. 
Posted on 2008-05-22 at 17:46:53.
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Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off Q&A
Subject: For the record...
... Jal's not deliberatley trying to kill himself by burning through mana and/or HP. More like he's hoping to do enough damage or cause enough havoc to level the playing field for 'our side', so to speak... He'll chew away at HP by casting spells as he can but, if it comes down to it, isn't opposed to giving actual combat a try... especially if Adrien manages to 'free' Alloryn (I suppose flying full bore into a one of the thri-kreen dragonfly rider may be enough to unseat the bugger at least?)
That said, if it's continued casting seems to be required, Jal's ready to do so whatever the cost.
P.S. I wanna be a fire engine! WoooWoooWoooWoooWooo! ClangClang! WoooWoooWoooWoooWooo!
Posted on 2008-05-22 at 15:58:10.
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Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Weapons?
Yeah... Like I'm holding out any hope that Sam'll come to with any of those left on him. Somebody's gettin' man-handled, puhn yoh! The one thing about close quarters in a bank is that there's plenty of really gorram hard stuff ta go tossin' folk into... an' if all else fails, a headbutt ta th' nethers'll settle a feller down right quick. 
Tann - I thought you had that picture already? If not, I'll dig it up when I get home and send it your way again.
Loved the post, Brom... Now, I'm worried about Sam, too.
Posted on 2008-05-22 at 13:42:05.
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Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off Q&A
Subject: Hmmmm...
...ya didn't happen to have a mana-siphon of any sort in that sale stuff, did ya Dr Bob?
If so, I know a very foolish, poorly trained mage who might just have a use for such a thing and would probably be willing to offer up all the gold he's got for it's use.
Posted on 2008-05-21 at 19:16:15.
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Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off
Subject: The needs of the many... (or Sweet Sacrifice)
At first, as Jal spiraled skyward, he wasn’t sure what he might do when he reached Alloryn, if he managed to reach her at all – the aura of power emenating from her was incredible (dangerously so) and the urchin mage wasn’t certain that he would even be able to get near Arien’s sister without literally getting fried by it – but something told him he had to try, no matter the cost. Surprisingly, other than a noticeable tingle as he drew closer, the magic surrounding Arien’s sister did not instantly cook or otherwise seem to harm Jal and, now, he was close enough to see the torturous collar bound around the girl’s neck.
The clasp of the thing looked entirely too complex to be released without some specific key or other object, the Spellbinder noticed sourly, and, though a Knock spell might have had some effect on the thing, Jal, regretfully, had never taken the time to learn that simple weaving of mana. He had caught sight of Valentine in the skies nearby and was set to ask the former Red for assistance (though it was doubtful that Adrien would have learned such a ‘useless’ spell, either) when Jal heard the ominous buzzing…
Oh no, the odd little mage thought, his eyes widening as he spotted the flight of giant dragonflies with their Thri-Kreen riders, not the bug men, again! Things had not gone so well for him the last time they had encountered these creatures, he recalled… Had I not been distracted by the dead and had sufficient room to call upon anything effective…
But this time, my beloved, he thought he heard Wynter whisper, there is all the room in the sky…
The Spellbinder spun once in the air, hopefully searching for a glimpse of the ghost girl even as her words faded away. Nothing… where are you, Wynter? Whether he could see her or not, and whether hearing her voice just then had been a trick of his mind or, indeed, Wynter, the words rang true. Here, in the sky with most of the others still earthbound, Jal realized that he could bring his full power to bear with little fear of harming his friends. Just one fireball would sap the remains of his mana reserves, he knew, as he focused on the flight of dragonflies and began uttering the incantation, but hoefully it would be enough.
Should it not be, he thought, placing himself between Alloryn and the flight of giant bugs, then today I make the sacrifice I should have made for Wynter those many years ago…
At that moment, the fireball burst to life in his hand and, without hesitation, he launched it at the dragonfly riders (the one in the lead if I have to specify a single target). “Valentine,” he shouted, “the girl! Mind the girl!”
((OOC: Okay… Jal’s commited at a suicidal level, here… he’s seeing “last chance for redemption” in this situation (or perhaps a chance to join Wynter, at last?)… Once the fireball is sent off – depending on the results, of course – Ol’ Spooky’ll start ‘wandering off into the Twilight’… casting Light on the eyes of any Thri-Kreen in range, if possible, and, assuming/hoping there are opportunities to bring heavier magics to bear, hitting the buggers with fireballs and/or lightning bolts as he can… Ummm… If Jal burns himself out, I still wanna claim a spot in the next installment. ))
Posted on 2008-05-21 at 17:58:05.
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Topic: RDINN Feature Updates/ Suggestions/ Bugs
Subject: You betcha, Shaithis! :)
That's my job, that's what I do... So sayeth Conway Twitty, amen.
Posted on 2008-05-20 at 20:15:43.
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Topic: RDINN Feature Updates/ Suggestions/ Bugs
Subject: Work around for Shaithis
Or.... you could do it the overly complicated Eol way by doing this:
- Login and go to the thread/post in question
- Open a new browser window (usually Ctrl+N in most cases) to pop up a second, identical window to the one you were just viewing
- Click on the Reply link from the new window and, VOILA, original post to which you're replying in one browser window and your reply post in the works in another!
Or, there's the super easy Eol-method (aka The Captain Backup Approach) where you just copy every single post to a Word Document (or whatever app you may use for that sort of thing) and read, reply, copy/paste to the Inn.
Not a perfect solution, either way I suppose, but, being the help desk dude what I am, I had to suggest the workarounds, now, didn't I?
Posted on 2008-05-20 at 19:49:18.
Edited on 2008-05-20 at 19:50:10 by Eol Fefalas
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Topic: Corrupt a wish
Subject: And ka-boosh! So mote it be!
You do have a way to keep track of all of your posting games, unfortunately, it's tied in with the 'free women's clothes' thing and, as such, your new method of keeping track of all your posting games is via a dress made out of post-its, categorized, indexed, and arranged by thread. The really bad thing about it is that all of your favorite threads are in...errr...rather sensitive areas of your new apparel and, so, replying to posts for some of them might be a wee bit uncomfortable... especially if you're accessing the Inn from say a public wi-fi hotspot, the library, etc...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I wish Lysk would RP on occassion... I miss her characters. 
Posted on 2008-05-20 at 19:33:23.
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Topic: Blatantly Obvious Lies
Subject: Ummm...
...because it's far more PC to call someone a 'Mothergrugger' than the alternative.
Just to satisfy the recent curiosity; why shouldn't we feed the Grugg?
Posted on 2008-05-20 at 18:48:28.
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Topic: Hi all.
Subject: *bites tongue*
Must not...*scrunches eyes shut* ...say what... I'm thinking...out loud...*whacks self in hand with stapler*
OW!!!
Hey! It worked! I censored what i was about to say before I said it!
WooHooo!
Posted on 2008-05-20 at 17:32:03.
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Topic: Q&A: The Return Of The Prodigal Son
Subject: Ahh...
...and those, too, were Spider's thoughts on the matter. "We're here to investigate the disappearance of beggars from the city and, yet, we're being directed to the mountains... hmmm... I'll wager that someone already knows who/what might be abducting the hopeless souls and, apparently, where he/she/they/it may be found... Must be that we're here to find the whys, return those that matter, and, if necessary, stop the process by whatever means necessary..."
Now, from some PMs I had going back and forth with Flirty re: all of this (and, it's info Spider would likely share with the party once they're 'alone') is that Thyatis 'rolls up it's streets' at night - no one but no one appears to be outside after dark - and, very few people are willing to talk about the disappearances other than to say that they've been happening, it's horrifying, etc...
Way to be twitchy, Nomad... the mission we're on may not be precisely the mission we enlisted for.
Posted on 2008-05-20 at 15:25:28.
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Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Oh great...
...so I'll be able to see myself gettin' shot but won't be able ta do nothin' but drool on my-ruttin-self! Fan-friggin-tastic!
'Least it ain't Reavers.
P.S. I am positive... positive that Sam ain't gonna be a happy camper in the next few posts.
Posted on 2008-05-20 at 14:51:55.
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Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Thanks...
...once I slapped the 'he'p me' call together, the rest just kind of fell into place around it.
I can't wait for the calvary, either... 'specially since I can't seem to keep a character conscious during combat in one of your games.
Posted on 2008-05-20 at 14:07:53.
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Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Typos?
Do we still make those? 
I thought the invention of White Out took care of all that... don't tell me I've been drinking a bottle of the stuff per day for the past 25 years for nothin'!
Posted on 2008-05-20 at 12:53:03.
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Topic: Voyages of Rocinante - Serenity/Firefly RPG
Subject: A date gone bad
“Sam, honey? You comin’,” Brigit’s sugared voice sawed Dash’s attentions away from scrutinizing the loose knot of men who seemed to be watching the bank, “Like I said, we best hurry.”
“Yeah,” Sam smiled - the anxious feeling in his gut twisting the expression into more of a grimace, maybe – as his eyes flicked back to the damn-fine schoolmarm. “Yeah,” he repeated, chancing one more quick sweep of the potential baddies before as he hurried his pace and tried to keep himself between Brigit and quickly figured fire-arcs from any one of the bad men’s weapons, “I reckon we best…”
“Meep-meep!”
Dash’s hand fell to the butt of his pistol when the coach modified mule came around the building, and the thing was a hair’s-breadth away from being drawn from the holster when the driver stopped in front of the bank and beeped the horn.
“Hunt!? Is that you,” Brigit beamed at the elderly driver, “I almost didn’t recognize you all dressed up like that.”
The sound of Dash’s avenger dropping back into its holster was muffled by the slightly shakey sigh that passed the pilot’s lips. Brigit’s recognition of the man had just saved him a bullet to the brainpan and, likely, saved Sam a visit to the local lawman’s pokey for opening up on the streets. Dash’s gaze swept back to check the positions of the men as Brigit made nice over the Coach driver’s hand-me-down suit.
“This is Sam Dash,” Brigit’s voice snatched his attentions again and brough his eyes back to her, “Sam, this is old Hunt. Sam here is the pilot for the transport that landed early today.”
“Pleased to meet you Sam.” The old man smiled, offering a friendly nod.
“Back at ya, Ol’ timer,” Sam nodded, a twitchy tinged grin curling up one corner of his mouth. “Right fetchin’ set o’ duds ya got there,” he added, noting that the man seemed to be a might proud of his ill-fitting formal wear. Baggy as it is, though, he managed not to say out loud, I reckon ya could crap yer pants an’ no one’d be the wiser til they got downwind of ya.
“Interestin’ skinjob on yer mule, too, puhn yoh,” Sam added, noting that the position of the mule might be good enough to provide some cover (and maybe a quick way to skin out) if things went south all the sudden, “Chauferrin’ the high-falootin’ types off to the shindig are ya?”
((Assuming some back and forth, etc))
Old Hunt had fallen easily into the conversation and seemed a nice enough guy, so Sam chit-chatted with him for a spell. Poor bastard prob’ly don’t get spoke to much other’n do this an’ do that, Sam figured.
Hunt was prattling on about when and how the old mule had been modified to look like a stagecoach when a big man, all wrapped up in dark clothes and leather, exited the bank; at that point Hunt’s jaw music might as well have been background noise. Sam still offered up the occasional albeit distracted ‘uh-huh’ or ‘hmm’ as the old man droned on but, from the moment he stepped into view, the leather-clad man had Dash’s full attention. There was something vaguely familiar about this one, Sam couldn’t quite place it but he was sure he’d encountered this man once or twice before.
Pythons Sam noted, his mouth suddenly gone dry, Heavy eights, both… where do I know you from, mister?..
Knife. Left boot, Dash’s eyes hardened a bit, realizing that this man’s knife was positioned the way it ought to be when one means to – and knows how to – use it, not the way some of these young, not-long-fer-livin’ greenhorns out in the Verse might’ve slung one for appearances. Yeah… I know you… wei shan (really dangerous) ain’t ya? Wish I could recollect yer name…
Then there was that obvious bulge under the man’s left arm; And there’s the equalizer, huh? Try as he might, Sam couldn’t keep his fingers from flexing or his arm from drifting so much closer to the Avenger’s grips than was sensible considering the proximity of civilians. Keep walkin’, puhn yoh, Dash warned subliminaly, where ever I knows ya from, here ain’t the place ta get reacquainted…keep walkin’. For the next few seconds those two words repeated like a mantra in Sam’s head, even as the man did exactly that… all the way across the street where he commenced to runnin’ his yap with the other shady type in front of Mallory’s.
Why do I feel like I shoulda just shot that man dead? Why don’t I jus’ do it now? Sam’s hips began to turn as his hand started to close on the Avenger’s grips…Juh shi suh mo go dohng shee?!
He had almost started reaching for the shotgun when he realized that it was Brigit who had a hold of his arm and was tugging his hand away from the pistol. “Sam?” She giggled in that way that stirred Sam’s nethers, even as he forced his gaze away from the leather coat and talked his free hand out of snatching the scattergun free, “Really now, you need to pay attention to your surroundings Mr. Dash. You’re supposed to be protecting me!”
Protecting me… Now, those words echoed in the pilot’s head and overran his jitters. Right… he blinked again, and then once more as he convinced the muscles in his arm to relax, Civilians…
“Sorry ‘bout that, Miss Brigit,” he grinned, playing off the reach for the shotgun by feigning an adjustment of his bandana, “Got distracted by the scenery, I reckon.”
Sam nodded a cordial farewell to Hunt before his still narrowed gaze panned, one last time, over the shady types and Mr Familiar. “Helluva place,” he muttered, letting his hand fall again to the small of Brigit’s back as he ushered her into the bank, “Guess we don’ wanna push these folks to the wrong side of fashionably late, does we?”
Once inside the three story, brick building, Dash took quick note of the entrances and possible exits, defensible positions that could be gotten to in a hurry, them folk as might not be able ta fend fer themselves if lead started flying, and places he might chase them off to if such a thing was to unfold. Seemed to be, now that Mr Familiar had stepped on down the street, that it was just the fussy couple (John and Nora, if he recollected the names Brigit had used) and some weevil-lookin’ teller were the only additional innocents he’d need to worry about outside the schoolmarm… Plus… but, secure as banks tended to be and as cramped as the quarters were, it might be a might tricky slingin’ iron and making sure the wrong folk didn’t get shot in the process… Minus…
“…Sam Dash. He is the pilot of ship that brought the you know what for the miners, I have to give him the promised payment.”
He heard Brigit introduce him and snapped his gaze in the direction of the obviously hen-pecked banker and his stunningly beautiful wife. “Folks,” he nodded.
“Really,” Nora purrs, “Was the Saloon all booked up?”
“”No Nora,” Brigit shot back, “but I’d thought you might need the room to advance your husband’s career.”
Ai ya, Sam grinned/grimaced, picking up the honeyed venom that was being passed between what had to be Frisco’s two finest females, this looks ta be a lot like throwin’ a coupla wet cats in a gunny sack. He took the opportunity presented by the women’s sparring to take a peek out one of the bank’s barred windows, tugging his handset communicator out of his jacket as he went.
“I sure’s hell hope one o’ ya’s got yer ears on,” Dash scowled into the communicator as he stepped towards the window to put eyes back on the sketchy group outside. He couldn’t get a bead on the big, bad wong bah duhn he’d sized up moments ago, and another one or two of them were out of sight as well, but the two directly across the street were still just where he’d left them and that didn’t set well in Dash’s gut. “I reckon I might’ve stepped inta a big pile o’ niou suh (cow poop) here at th’ bank. Got’s me a fistful o’ big damn bad men givin’ us the once an’ twice over. If’n ya can’t all come a-runnin’, at least send th’ Kid an’ his girlfriends, get me?
Might wanna go full burn on that, Roc, I’m gonna see if I can’t get the folks what’s left inside out… I’m gone quiet.”
Ending the transmission, Sam turned back to see that Nora and her husband were headed out and Brigit was sauntering toward the teller window. “Good afternoon, Morgan,” she smiled at the weevily teller, “How are you today?”
“Doing well, Miss Brigit,” the man replied, “If you wanted the credits to pay this man, I’m afraid I can’t help you. You know John…”
“That’s okay Albert.” Birgit interrupted, “We want to do a transfer of funds.
Could you come over here and give the man your code please, Sam?”
“Sure,” Sam nodded, his eyes flicking between the teller window and the front door as he strolled up. He nodded to the teller and rattled off the account number to which the haul from all of Rocinante’s jobs went prior to being divyed up among the crew (assuming anything was left to divvy after the essentials were accounted for, that is).
“I’m sorry Miss Brigit,” Albert puzzled after clacking away at his terminal for a moment, “but I can’t seem to get a connection to the cortex.”
Why don’t I likes the sounds o’ that?
“Oh? Is the cortex down?’
“No. I just did a transfer a few minutes ago. But now it is ….well it’s dead.”
BOOM!
Flashbang. We’re dog-humped! Sam thought just before the light and sound overwhelmed him and sent him off into and ear-ringing limbo, Gorramit! I know that sumbitc….
Posted on 2008-05-20 at 10:51:11.
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Topic: Hi all.
Subject: Well, its the truth..
...the whole truth... and nothing but the truth... so help me Grugg.
Shall I list all of the characters I've seen you play? I seem to remember Aedyn Dai/Lys'Khala (even before either of us found the Inn)... Echo... Ens Lafette... Shall I go on?
See there, Sz and Whit? We're like Pringles in this place... once you pop, you can't stop... and seriously... do any of us really want to?
Posted on 2008-05-19 at 19:58:14.
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Topic: Hi all.
Subject: A lot late...
Yet another thread that I missed until it was 'old'... *sigh*... one of these days I'll have a good connection at home and a 'non-sneak-around' way to get here from work and I should be more alert by then.
Anyhoo... enough of my whining. Welcome, welcome, welcome to both of you lovely folks. I won't rehash all of the oohs and ahhs that have been posted already (I will confirm that they're all true, though)... and, despite the fact that Lysk doesn't join a lot of RPs she can RP darn well!
Sooo (because I can hear the "Shut up, Eol's" ringing in the universe), summing it up: Welcome to the Inn. We're glad to have you and we're looking forward to keeping you around!
Note: Anyone caught feeding the Grugg will have to take over the back shaving thing in the summer time.
Posted on 2008-05-19 at 19:45:50.
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Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Sam's transmission
For reference (just in case one of you beats me to the post) what follows is the transmission Dash makes from the bank (sadly unaware that he's being scrambled).
“I sure’s hell hope one o’ ya’s got yer ears on,” Dash scowled into the communicator as he stepped towards the window to put eyes back on the sketchy group outside. He couldn’t get a bead on the big, bad wong bah duhn he’d sized up moments ago, and another one or two of them were out of sight as well, but the two directly across the street were still just where he’d left them and that didn’t set well in Dash’s gut. “I reckon I might’ve stepped inta a big pile o’ niou suh (cow poop) here at th’ bank. Got’s me a fistful o’ big damn bad men givin’ us the once an’ twice over. If’n ya can’t all come a-runnin’, at least send th’ Kid an’ his girlfriends, get me?
Might wanna go full burn on that, Roc, I’m gonna see if I can’t get the folks what’s left inside out…”
*sigh* Sam shoulda brought more grandes.
Posted on 2008-05-19 at 17:42:56.
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Topic: A cool piece of news!
Subject: Stumbling around blind?
How'd I miss this?
My congrats to the young Bardess of Birmingham! It's always cool when someone thinks enough of your work to publish it.
*throws a party*
Posted on 2008-05-19 at 15:02:20.
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Topic: Q&A: The Return Of The Prodigal Son
Subject: Wait no longer...
...my chapter has been posted.
Thankfully, Flirt didn't move us out of the city or anything, otherwise I may have been writing for another week.
Posted on 2008-05-19 at 14:49:21.
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Topic: The Return of the Prodigal Son
Subject: Dawn...
Dawn broke and with it the realization that last night hadn’t been a dream. When Tristan woke, Darli was still curled in his arms, the jasmine scent of her hair subtle yet intoxicating. He sighed happily and, for a long moment, was content to simply lie there, holding her and recalling their long conversation from the night before… For hours and hours after retiring to their room, the pair of thieves had huddled together in a single bed and took turns recounting the events of the past decade and for the entirety of the talking, neither could look away from the other until sleep, at last, over took them and they drifted off in one another’s arms… Smiling, Tristan delicately lifted a spill of her curling, ebon locks from where it lay across his chest and tucked it behind her ear. “The sun is up, Darli,” he whispered, letting his fingertips feather across her cheek as he kissed tenderly on the top of the head, “and so should we be. The others may likely leave without us.”
Begrudging, now, of the fact that there was a job to be done, Tristan slipped silently from the bed, pausing to plant another tender kiss on her cheek before turning to his pack. Spider’s working gear, of course, was at the ready at the top of this particular saddle-bag and, before Darli was fully awake, he had already slipped into his dark-hued breeches and boots of soft leather and was just shy of slipping into his shadow-chain (as he called the silenced shirt of elfin mail) when Darli opened her eyes and smiled at him. The soft brilliance of that expression warmed him to his core and, again, made him wish that there was at least another day and night before the job was to begin. He knew, of course, that there wasn’t to be any more time for just the two of them alone in this room, though, so he took some solace in the fact that, however long this new adventure might last, Darli would be close and, when it was all over, he swore to himself at that moment, never again would he lose her the way he had all those years ago. Something in him prevented Tristan from voicing those thoughts, though – be it superstition, apprehensiveness towards testing fate, or, perhaps, simple fear that speaking the words might end this dream he had found himself in – instead, he smiled brightly at her, welcoming her to the new day, and continued dressing.
After he had pulled the deep purple tunic over the shirt of mail and set about snugging himself up in his housebreaker’s rig, though, Tristan couldn’t help but pause and gather Darli in his arms even as she tried to get herself geared up. “I’m more rested this morning,” he whispered as his arms slid around her and his lips pressed to her neck, “than I can ever recall. I’m glad I’ve found you again.”
Downstairs
They had joined the others for breakfast in the tavern, of course, and engaged in the banter that was typical of the beginnings of such a task as was set before them.
"I hope today we will find out more about what we have signed up for," Amiri said at one point.
“More vagaries and speculations than truth, I’d wager,” Spider snickered in reply, “We’ll likely not find any trace of that until we’re long into the task.”
Spider couldn’t help but grin as he looked from one to the next… Quite the motley crew we’ve gathered together, isn’t it, he chuckled inwardly, Fighters, hunters, healers, singers, and thieves… for naught more than the vanishing of some ‘beggars’… heh… right, the beggars are the concern and I’m the Warlord of Altan Tepe.
There is more to this than any of us could imagine, I’m sure of it. Regardless whom it might have been that directed each of us here to begin with, he mused as he finished his breakfast and rechecked his gear, I doubt that any of us know who we truly are working for.
So it was, with thoughts such as those in his mind, that Spider wasn’t quite surprised to encounter Lyra outside of the Inn. Nor was he surprised much by what she had to say. She was an ‘emissary’ of whomever it was that had truly backed this expedition and, as he would have expected, didn’t volunteer anything more than the ‘gifts’ of provisions and the like, along with a falcon named Nessa that, she said, would carry communications back and forth between the party and their benefactors. He watched the lovely lass carefully and acknowledged her without words when it was required but, as he had learned long ago that listening was usually more beneficial than talking, said little in her presence.
"I would certainly like to know who has gathered us together,” Amiri stated following Ash’s acceptance of the falcon, “What qualifications they are seeking, and what do they know about this venture beside the rumors and tales?"
Vagaries and speculations, Spider grinned, when Lyra responded. He flicked a wink at Amiri as if to say; See? We’ll know precious little else until were near done.
"And who in the city will be receiving our messages," Khalessian pressed. The fighter, too, it seemed wasn’t easily swayed from the line of questioning. "We are all interested in this mission, but know little of what is required. When and where might we expect to hear more about this mission?"
"Your messages will be coming to me so I can gather the supplies you need and send them to you as I see fit.” Lyra answered cryptically, “I would accompany you but I must take care of somebody that is close to me, their health is failing them. Nobody knows anything more than that the beggars have been disappearing and that we need to find them.”
Spider arched a brow at that and may have actually cast a disbelieving look in Lyra’s direction… True concern for the downtrodden, then, is it? From someone with the funds to finance an expedition such as this? Curiouser and curiouser…… his mind tunred back, remembering the briefing he’d received from Seramin just weeks ago, and instantly started sorting through the threads that tied that information together with those provided by this lovely girl.
“Homeless or not,” Lyra said, “they are still an important part of our community. Fathers, brothers, sisters, mothers, uncles, aunts, cousins, you name it and we can promise you at least one has disappeared from the streets since this ordeal has happened. I will personally ensure you have food and shelter for this trip. I don't know how long it will take to figure out what has happened and send the news to us, or you may deliver it personally if it doesn't take too long to figure out what has happened, and perhaps bring them back, if they are not dead.
Time is crucial,” Lyra stressed, her own eyes turning towards the rapidly rising sun, “The longer we wait, the more go missing. If there are no questions, please carry on. I have other things to do before I return to my ailing father.”
It was sure to be an intricate web when it was completed, Spider thought, finally letting his eyes drift free of the girl and over the faces of his new companions, but, as with any web, it would never be completed if the first thread didn’t get anchored. “Sounds to me like an invitation to leave the city, my friends,” he quipped, moving towards the stables to claim his horse…
Posted on 2008-05-19 at 14:47:39.
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Topic: Q&A: The Return Of The Prodigal Son
Subject: Darn...
...well, I did say "may".
Posted on 2008-05-19 at 13:57:03.
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