I can't say that I'm not disappointed in those search results. I expect better from the interwebz! 

...if it's a Straightening Iron Golem, it might not be that bad! I've got this kink in my tail that just makes me crazy and that mousse I bought from that merchant a few months back just isn't doing the trick.

Thanks, boss!

It's only taken me a year or so to write a complete sentance in Kazari.

I gotcha covered with my adoreable murder-mittens!

Well, geez-o-loobus!!!

Here's hoping there's a flight of stairs behind it ending in a pool of lava so that we can just give it a push and RUN AWAY! RUN AWAY! RUN AWAY!!!!!

Like I said, the thought just occurred to me and, admittedly, I didn't check the interface before I went "running-off-at-the-post."

You know me and world-building; sometimes I go waaaaaaaay out there and think too much for my own good.

What kind of consideration might be given to surnames/naming conventions based upon the Cidal sub-races, and, would adding a filter for such a thing be worth the effort?

For example, I can see surnames such as Hightree, Greenbough, and Slimbody being more prevalent among the Picks; Goodloam, Stoutfoot, and Goodmead seem to me to be more Stump-like; and Honeymead, Baker, and Sweetrye falling more in line with the Loavens.

Just spitballing/brainstorming, here, and thought I'd throw it out there before it slipped my mind.

Yeah... I figured that, aside from her bladesong, that would have been the feature that stood out most for him at that moment. Her voice, too, with it's "softly authoritative" timbre would have been something he latched on to but, again, with the haziness of it all, the eyes stood out most.

Anyhoo, as you both have offered, feel free to PM me for any input/dialogue/etc from Ch'dau should you need it for your posts. As always, looking forward to the next round.

As far as Ch'dau waking up, I leave it to the two of you to determine when that happens as it relates to your coming posts and plans.

She's adoreable!!!

...are under the "realistic" category, Rog.

...I'm seeing a couple of options, here.

I think we can use an "adjective - body part (or item)" schema, for one:

• Swiftfoot


• Bracegirdle


• Fallohide

For another, and I'm not sure how to phrase it, but something along the lines of "Adjective/adverb - geographical feature" (?):

• Underhill


• Greenglade


• Overlake

And, another, perhaps, could be "Feature - verb" for results like:

• Puddlejumper


• Weedhopper


• Hopesinger

Thoughts?

...I see where that makes sense but, off the top of my head, I can't come up with subtypes.

I'll do some scouring of the seeds and see if I can't get inspired, though, and get back to you if I get any ideas.

Duly noted on the dialogue change. I'll go fix that now.

*waves magic spatula of dialogue changing* POOF! It's done!

I figured as much... just wanted to make sure.

~Cuz it's you and me and all of the people

With nothing to do

Nothing to lose...~

...to try out the Cidal generator. "Realistic" surnames work well but, if you select "Fantasy" you get a debug screen. Is that related  to the seeding issue?

...I took a few minor liberties with dialogue in that last post. If either of you feel the words/actions don't necessarily match up to your characters, just let me know and I'll happily edit.

Aaaaand, GOOD MORNING!

The last things Ch’dau recalled with any true clarity were Kithran’s weight lifting from his chest, the golden eyes of the bladesinger, and the bone-built spider legs probing through the broken window some two stories above. There had been some vagaries, too, about needing to get to his feet, but the very effort of the thoughts seemed to have sapped the last of his strength… At least, he purred inwardly as the dark fell over him, I will die, here, and not on that monkey-bitch’s pyre…Then, for a time, the pain was gone and, somewhere in that void, The Silver Cat of Coria was content in the fact that he had deprived the witch of her victory. He floated, heavily it seemed, toward the Hunt and, though he couldn’t see through the blackness, Ch’dau was sure he heard voices calling from close by…

“…help me with him…”

"Up you get, warrior. I won't relinquish you to death."

“The witch… she was torturing him… found him in a cage…”

“…Hm, Silver Cat?.. we need to stop…”

…These were not Kazari voices, he realized, but still seemed somehow familiar. The floating stopped and, as it did, he tried to see through the dark and identify the source of the voices. There was pressure, then, and the pain returned; dully, at first, but more intense as the compression against his wounds increased. Blackness gave way to a misty gray as his eyes came open and, from out of that haze, a face appeared. From that face, delicate and commanding all at once, a pair of golden eyes blinked at him and a voice that matched the visage echoed.

"Stay with me," it told him, "Hear my voice, and feel your breaths…”

“Ka… ka’yana’a ho’dari… sa’lama… N’ka Rr’sala s’firi,” he rumbled in reply, desperately trying to focus.

“…Slow your breaths, and breathe; the fight is done."

He attempted a nod but it felt as if his head hand only bobbled weakly, instead, and, though he complied with her direction, the wounded kazari was unable to keep his eyes open any longer. “As… you say,” he murmured as he slipped back into oblivion, “khatun…”

Again, in the folds of pain and exhaustion, Ch’dau was nebulously aware of voices and, at one point, the sounds of battle, which surrounded him. Then, once more, he felt as if he was floating. This time, though, as the soaring sensation persisted, his feet managed to find ground beneath them and he staggered sleepily along when he could. After some time plodding through the dark, propped up on either side by forces he could feel but not see, the half-drifting sensation came to an abrupt halt and, again, whispered voices floated to his ears…

“…quarters in town, Bladesinger?..”

“…only arrived to this city, today…”

“…place is very close…”

…There was the faint sound of a creaking door that followed and, shortly thereafter, floating, falling, and, at last, true sleep, as the soft voices lulled him into it with whispered tales of which he could make no sense.

*******

His slumber was restful, for the most part, but there had been fitful places in which remembrances of the witch’s attentions, the confines of chains and cages, and the stalking of monstrous spiders chased his thoughts. It was in the midst of one of these disturbed dreamings that Ch’dau came to the realization that he was not, as yet, dead and that he still needed to fight on. The press of skeletons about him, with their red pin-prick eyes and ever-grinning fleshless faces, drew closer, backing him into a corner and, just at the edge of that sea of bones… tik-tik-tik-tikkity-tak-tik-tik-takktiy-tik-tik-tik-tak… a true horror waded his way.

His weapons were gone, he realized, and the situation in which he found himself seemed futile, but he was a Kazari and the very last thing he would do would be to lay down and be given unto The Hunt without a fight. Snarling, his teeth bared and claws extended to their fullest, he crouched at the ready and beckoned the press of dead things closer. “Come,” he growled, a challenging roar welling in his chest, “and I will take you all with me!!!”

The skeletons reached, the spider reared, and the Silver Cat roared, his claws slashing madly as he dove into the fight…

“Easy!!!”

…The sea of skeletons began to melt away and, somewhere in their midst, a pair of golden eyes peered back at him, and slender, flesh-covered hands raised in reassurance…

“You are not there,” the soothing voice called, “You are here. Hear my voice. Feel the ground beneath your feet.”

…In a blink, the bone army was gone and a confused Ch’dau found himself in yet another stone walled room, facing, not the dead, but a living, breathing Sylvari. She was clad in intricately worked leather armor, a fine blade sheathed at her hip. Her golden eyes, gentle yet commanding, peered pleadingly at him from beneath the fringes of her wild, oaken hair… Bladesinger?

“You are here,” the Syl said soothingly as the Kazari’s eyes darted about the place, “you are safe. You must rest, Silver Cat. Your wounds need to heal.”

…In surveying his surroundings, his claws still extended and his chest heaving from the ragged, rumbling breaths that escaped him, Ch’dau’s eyes found another, darker shape crouched just out of his reach nearby. This one, too, had her hands raised, indicating she was no threat and trying to assuage whatever madness had overtaken him. Black eyes blinked up at him from the familiar face and an uneasy grin spread across her lips…

“Whoa, there, cat-beast,” she said from behind that smile, “easy, it's me. Kith good, remember?”

“Kithran?”

The darker shape nodded; “Yeah.”

Ch’dau’s claws slowly retracted and his stance loosened, his blue-green eyes sliding back in the direction of the Sylvari woman. “You,” he rumbled, “you are the Bladesinger I heard?”

The Syl nodded, as well; “I am.”

It was then that the Kazari became aware that his wounds had been bound and an almost shuddering sigh escaped him as, at last, he relaxed in full. He surveyed their surroundings with a calmer eye, then, and, after a moment, sat himself down on the thin mat he found beneath his feet. “Forgive,” he rumbled, wincing as he sank onto his haunches, “I… I thought…” He shook his shaggy head, then, and chuffed out another sigh as he took up the dagger at his feet. “Where are we rrow’ka? What has happened?”

((OOC: Sorry that took so long. Between the hack attacks on the Inn and an ongoing outage at work, I didn’t have as much time as I would have liked to work on this yesterday. There it is, for what it’s worth, though. I’ll leave it there for you ladies to pick up and run with as you wish.

P.S. For the record, not that I’d expect either Ara or Kith to have understood, the delirious rumbling that Ch’dau did in his own tongue earlier on translates roughly as “I am inspired by your strength peaceful one… But I am called on this journey.” ))

Spray bottles and the threat of mutilation... check!

Loved the introduction to young Kithran, by the by. Super neat little backstory! Bravo!

Got a post in the works, now... don't worry too much about getting damaged, Rer... he'll be snarling and the claws will likely come out but I doubt he'll wake up fully raging. 

...a couple of thoughts before I turn in:

• I don't imagine Ch'dau is going to awaken in the best of moods
  
  
  
  • He's been in those dungeons for who knows how long and, since he was first stuffed in that cage, this is probably the first sleep he's had in which he could stretch out.
  
  
  • He's pretty damaged and, likely, got a bit of PTSD (for lack of a better term).
  
  
  • Also, he likely wasn't fully coherent on the trip from Adedre's estae to the wine-merchant's cellar... more going on instinct and determination (not to mention assistance)... and, waking up in yet another "stone room" might be somewhat overwhelming.
  
  
  
  


• Given the above, when he does come to, there's a possibility that he'll lash out out of instinct or in reaction to the last thing(s) he remembers with any clarity.


• I'm also guessing that he's probably in much worse shape than Kith and, so, will be awake after she is but, there's also the possibility that he'll wake much sooner depending on what his dreams/nightmares might stir.

Sound reasonable to everyone or should I adjust a bit? Just sort of looking for opinions/options as how you both see things unfolding, here... Would you prefer to see an "early awakening" (and possibly a conversation with Ara while Kith sleeps) or, instead, a "late sleeping kitty" with a sudden, startled, WTF?

Same here. I noticed the similarities in the names but thought it was purely coincidental until that last post. Nifty tie in!

You all are spoiling me with these posts! I absolutely love every single one!

Got a couple of my own in mind - one from Ch'dau and another catching us up with Adedre - but I'm tinkering with the sketchbook, at the moment. I'll do some pondeering whilst I scribble, though, and see if I can't have one or both of them ready to go at some point tomorrow. Don't feel as if you have to wait for me, though.

...is it possible, from where we are, now, to see the far side of the altar room? If so, does it appear that there are any doors, archways, etc, leading further in?

...that's krazier than kazari krap, I'matellyawhut! 

Based on the inspection, I'm thinking that maybe we should open the door and see what lies beyond? What say the rest?

...I don' WANNA be polymorphed!

Make it all this way just to be turned into a moist excretion?!?! It ain't fair, man!!!