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Topic: School's Clever Ploy; Or How A Learning Institution Managed to Dominate My Creative Life and Sent M
Subject: School's Clever Ploy; Or How A Learning Institution Managed to Dominate My Creative Life
AND SENT ME INTO HIDING...
I unfortunately, will not be able to post as much as I would like until next Saturday, as I have an enormous amount of schoolwork to do to complete the term.
Crew of Lantan --- Will do my best to get a post up next week ( before Saturday), but if not, it is for the aforementioned reason.
Crew of Rylanor --- I know, I know I haven't been posting, but I also have not been sleeping. I`m not ignoring you, I have been simply trying to manage my life and write at the same time. I also will try very hard to have a post up, and failing that, will probably post next Saturday.
Everyone Else - Apologies for my absense. I assure you that I would much rather be roleplaying with my fine friends here at the Red Dragon Inn then doing schoolwork. The long hours in front of my tiny handwriting have gone a long way into evolving me into a mole-person.
AHHH! NATURAL LIGHT!!!!!!!!
* hisses and dives under desk*
Yours,
SEP
Posted on 2008-05-30 at 15:07:41.
Edited on 2008-05-30 at 15:09:52 by Septimus Sandalwood
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Topic: Lantan Q&A
Subject: Here...
I edited it.
Posted on 2008-05-30 at 14:59:02.
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Topic: Lantan Q&A
Subject: Sorry...
I lose track.
Posted on 2008-05-30 at 12:16:09.
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Topic: Lantan Q&A
Subject: Posting...
Glory's post I believe. Or in fact, anyone's.
Posted on 2008-05-29 at 22:00:51.
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Topic: Lantan Q&A
Subject: POSTED!
Did my best. 
Posted on 2008-05-28 at 14:45:31.
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Topic: Lantan
Subject: Word of the Blind Piper
The island of Faerun stood starkly beautiful, an uncut gem of an island, emerald against a driving sea. The waves slapped playfully against the venerable hull, clamouring over themselves like puppies, sending up a fine spray of water that coated his dark hair and spotted the expensive material of his clothing. Despite his ambivalence towards the venture, he could not suppress the wonderful sensation that had overcome him completely upon sighting the island, that inexpressible sense of journey begun.
Like a great, lethargic beast, the steamer chugged along ponderously to its destination. Belligerent sailors, at distance no larger then ants, scurried about the docks, unloading valuable cargo, ever so often quarreling with their fellows. He felt Evani’s light touch against his shoulder, and smiled at her, affectionately brushing a wayward strand of hair from her face that had been tousled by the wind.
He was home.
Or else he might have been, had the circumstances been different. He followed the broad back of the mercenary through the winding streets of the port city, almost giddy with the sudden onslaught of colour and light.Intoxicating aromas wafted through the mid-afternoon air. Like gaily hued butterflies, the diverse peoples of the city fluttered to and fro, either selling or buying. He walked on, perhaps not quite as enthralled as his comrade, an inward glow emanating from his melancholy eyes.
A rather decrepit looking sign caught his eye and on a whim he decided to go for a drink. After a brief consultation he ambled forward, held the door considerately open for Evani and then stepped into cool darkness inside. A familiar odor of musk and desperation reached his nostrils. It clung upon the hard men that sat crouched like gargoyles before their cards or beyond their liquor. A few eyes rose to appraise him dully and with a faint disturbance in his heart he sauntered up to the counter, intending to find an ideal tonic for his nerves.
What he saw there nearly stopped his heart.
No, it was not on the counter. The counter was perfectly ordinary, long and scarred and black, as was the seating. Nor was it the bartender. Even he was comparatively normal, a pot-belled and rough looking sailor busying himself in the rather fruitless attempt of cleaning out a filthy glass with an even filthier dish-rag.
No, it was what was above the counter that concerned him and rightfully so. A small piece of paper had been nailed to the wall beside the cupboard, yellowed and ancient and completely conspicuous. The scrawled, savage print jumped out at him:
BY DECREE OF THE GOVERNMENT OF LANTAN, OFFER THE BOUNTY OF 100,000 PIECES OF GOLD FOR THE CAPTURE OR HEAD OF THE LOATHSOME PYRATE SEPTIMUS SANDALWOOD, WANTED FOR MANNERS OF ILL-HUMOUR UPON THE SEAS, THE GRAVEST THAT ARE HERE LISTED:
PYRACY, PILLAGING, FILCHING, PILFERY, ARSON, MANSLAUGHTER, THIEVERY, HIGH TREASON, CRIMINAL CONSPIRACY, KIDNAPPING, SIXTY-NINE COUNTS OF IMPERSONATING AN OFFICER, FALSIFICATION OF LETTERS OF MARQUE, BRIBERY, FORTY-SEVEN COUNTS OF FAILING TO YIELD, TEN COUNTS OF BOOTLEGGING, AND SACKING THE PORT CITY OF CORELAN.
Hell.
Posted on 2008-05-27 at 22:02:36.
Edited on 2008-05-30 at 14:58:19 by Septimus Sandalwood
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Topic: Lantan Q&A
Subject: ....
Glory's post I believe.
Posted on 2008-05-27 at 14:39:08.
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Topic: Lantan Q&A
Subject: Rising Phoenix
Posted.
Posted on 2008-05-24 at 18:21:27.
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Topic: Lantan
Subject: Rising Phoenix
Many of the words spoken by the mercenary touched his heart. He gazed at him with large, trusting eyes, an expression close to awe stamped clearly upon his features. In his mind mounted visions of Legion, that twisting asp, that worm immortal, seen through the bleary eye of a storm. He was speaking to a madman, in which lived the wild hours of midnight fancy, the seductive song of the blade. Arrogantly, always, he had considered insanity aloof from him, and now he wondered, exulting, if that insatiable pride had driven him farther into the swallowing black of the abyss.
But alas, it could not be.
No, he was not insane, that much he knew, for men who are affronted with madness have no concept of the bizarre, the obscene. But as he listened to him, each word invariably made sense.
It frightened him.
It had been years since he had trekked the desert’s shriveled scroll, which had transplanted in him a touch of the gregarious expanse. Emptiness, untouched by wind or the cleansing caress of rain, the wasteland, the west-lands, frequented by pariahs. He had learned the meaning of that word, pariah, outcast.
It was not a kind word, this word.
As the words of the mercenary brushed on the subject of Evani, he instinctively winced. Shame fettered his feet to the deck, he could make no motion. His mouth was dry, his hands, shaking. At the light steps that followed, he knew without raising his head to regard her that she was there. In a heroic attempt to salvage whatever dignity he had left he lifted his head and met her eyes.
And as he did, the first blow had been struck. He paused, resisting the temptation to turn sullenly from her, when a remarkable statement followed, spoken with such celerity that he scarcely believed he had heard it. Harsh words,expected, came after, but he barely took any notice of them, his mind whirling. Had he heard it? If he had, it had to have been in jest. It was impossible, he had expected no forgiveness, deserved no forgiveness for the way he had treated her.
And yet…
Her smile returned, a vibrant sun rising from beyond the grey, erasing all doubt from his mind. She repeated, he knew. A soft glowing warmth came into his dark eyes, banishing the moodiness that was so often reflected in him. For the first time since the departure of their leader he smiled in return, a young boy again, years before the incident that had broken his heart and crippled his conscience.
Like a man in a dream; he reached forward and took her hand in his. “I am sorry for my words earlier”, he whispered. “I was jealous and possessive…I was a fool, my love.” A slight shimmering seemed to appear in his eyes for a moment, and then disappeared as he mastered himself to speak again. “My heart is broken…lacerated beyond repair…a worthless item if there ever was one, and yet, my dearest possession. Without another word, my love, I would give it to you without question”.
“All you need do is accept it”.
And thus comes into the question of trust. No man lives truthfully without the gift of his love to another and Septimus had given his completely. Strange follower of the vagrant Gypsy life, he does what no other can and finds his weakness in the grip of love.
Posted on 2008-05-24 at 18:10:24.
Edited on 2008-05-24 at 18:17:33 by Septimus Sandalwood
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Topic: Lantan Q&A
Subject: About the post...
I am exhausted. Any post I would do today would be terrible.
As a result, I shall post tomorrow in Lantan.
Glory, feel free to post before me.
Posted on 2008-05-23 at 22:12:01.
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Topic: Lantan Q&A
Subject: Thanks.
Would be a bit easier, yes.
Posted on 2008-05-23 at 00:53:55.
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Topic: Lantan Q&A
Subject: Nice new name...
Loki.
Norse Trickster God, I presume.
I reply tomorrow, as I have an insane workload tonight. I will have Sep approach Evani, and apologise to her. Their relationship will be mended, hopefully.
Posted on 2008-05-22 at 19:32:13.
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Topic: Lantan Q&A
Subject: Hmm...
Hammer's post I believe.
Posted on 2008-05-22 at 14:41:02.
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Topic: Lantan Q&A
Subject: ;)
Fair enough.
Posted on 2008-05-22 at 10:28:14.
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Topic: Lantan Q&A
Subject: Posted.
I felt quite surreal...
Glory, I doubt that Sep will approach Evani as he is much too shy, and is still wrestling with his guilt. However, if she approached him, I would have him apologise...
Posted on 2008-05-20 at 22:03:45.
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Topic: Lantan
Subject: Mark of Cain
There was a dark man running across the wasteland.
Never stopping to catch his breath he ran, thin sides heaving like bellows, dark hair plastered by perspiration to his porcelain brow, his stride kicking up faint clouds of almond dust in his wake. The pale morning sun burned away the evening chill and the clinging damp mist, revealing a gigantic silent world of morose expanse. The wavering thin line of the horizon diffused the sallow light, emphasising the ephemeral qualities of the dunes, shifting, rising upon, rough-edged and smooth, forever warring.
A beach without need of a sea.
Even his footprints, heavier now with exhaustion remained but for moments until the particles drifted, parasites that fed upon existence in this harsh forbidden land, covering them, piling into new dunes, as if he had never been. A single blackened break in the smooth,uncompromised whiteness. Home of the rattlesnake and the gopher. Home of Legion. Home of Shade.
It is far from there, his wanderings, far from the fair-lands and the forgotten shore, the heady moorlands, measured in miles where the mere stands. There are still stars in this world, even here, but there is no song. They are impenetrable diamonds, rocks embedded in a spill of night as black as jewelers felt. But the stars do not sing, as they did in his memories. They whisper. They seem to stare at him with wide, unforgiving eyes, questioning. But there are no answers in the Void, no mercy in the wasteland.
The fire that made men go to war for them is gone.
An unforgiving memory conspicuously brought back to existence. The lachrymose words of the mercenary swallowed him into their caliginous depths and he struggled against them. Whispers of the past grew and spread like an unspeakable flower blossoming from a dark seed and he sighed out what might have been.
The beginning of the end had only begun.
He turned his head to look at him, an ancient basilisk presiding over the charred treasures of his homeland. His eyes, fixed intently on the mercenary were like endless pools with fish drowning in their depths. They held remorse. Like a sprawled oak he had grown until he had overshadowed the entire forest, but most of his branches were twisted.
When his words had ceased, he stepped forward to the mercenary and gave him a rough hug. When he drew back, his expression shifted, becoming fierce and savage.
“To the death, then”, he whispered, his tone musing and deadly and half-insane. Choking sadness threaded between each word.
“For the blood of the innocents, to the death. I know not how I shall find my brother, my Quintus, my dear...but when I do…”
His voice hung like a blade in the crisp afternoon air. There was no need to speak further on the subject. Instead, shockingly, he smiled. “We are caught in a war to protect some distant homeland of truth, born soldiers to deliver some place that was never our own. Born when the last light of morning dies, christened as a Shade. “ He shook his head. “ I am lord of nowhere. “
“Walk with me then, child of the west, and secure our future by the sword. For as you know the sea forgives, and only the sea. When we were young, we were merely men, but no longer, no longer. “
“We are the Marked”.
Posted on 2008-05-20 at 20:59:48.
Edited on 2008-05-21 at 10:48:06 by Septimus Sandalwood
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Topic: Lantan Q&A
Subject: Amazing...
The last post was absolutely brilliant, Hammer.
I feel that I am not worthy to reply to it today, as I am quite ill, and will not do a post of the quality that I demand from myself.
A reply tomorrow.
Posted on 2008-05-19 at 21:42:20.
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Topic: Lantan
Subject: The Aftermath
Septimus hooked his arms over the rail, his eyes stoically fixed on the ebbing waves before him. The light tinge of afternoon light had touched them a peculiar shade of green, like drowning forests in the deep. He listened half-heartedly to the words of the mercenary as his assumptions were confirmed. He gave no sign that he had heard and remained quite still, the ominous words echoing in the vast caverns of his mind, his eyes slitted against the sun. A low chuckle formed in his throat and he shook his head, an expression of amusement flickering across his features.
“You are wise, Rex the Reckless”, he mused, “although your name would have many think otherwise”. He glanced to him swiftly, and then away, finding refuge in the familiar sight of the meaningless expanse. Though he would have died before admitting it, the great mercenary often frightened him.
“I expect you have an expansive knowledge on the subject of betrayal”, he added carelessly, “As we all do. For we are the same, yes? The only difference between us is the subject of your payment, and even that now has been shown to be insubstantial.“
He grimaced suddenly, forcing an unbidden thought deep into the recesses where such things are kept. “ Your employer is currently unavailable, and of course, so is his pocketbook. “He cast a thinly veiled look of suspicion towards him. “Why do you stay with us”, he inquired softly. “If Shaben never returns, neither shall your payment. “ He sighed.
“The chances are incredibly slim, that you, or any of us, will return”.
“And so I make amends”, he murmured, face ashen. “If it were not for me, your family would still be alive, as would mine. My pride, and my blindness created a monster, and it is my responsibility alone for the damage that he has wrecked on both our lives and countless others. “His hands curled into fists and he hung his head. “I wish more then anything that I had had the sense to stay my hand, but I was a weak child, you must understand that. I was a fool. And now your wife, and your children, my wife and my son.” He gritted his teeth sharply.
“My daughter.“
“The man that killed them was once my brother, and the subject of my adoration. And yet I provoked him. I slaughtered my eldest brother as he slept without understanding the finality of death. And now he hunts me, as a lord hunts a dogfox, and despite my hatred towards him, I belong to him, body and soul. He’ll never let me go.”
He closed his eyes, refusing to allow the mercenary to sense that tears had sprung to them and shook his head, silent and grim.
“He’ll never let me go”.
Posted on 2008-05-18 at 22:14:55.
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Topic: Lantan Q&A
Subject: The Damnable Truth of Fairy-Tales...
Is Posted.
Posted on 2008-05-18 at 01:06:27.
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Topic: Lantan
Subject: The Damnable Truth of Fairy-Tales
Loneliness.
All of his life, he had dwelt upon it, the crushing sensation of unwarranted solitude that swallowed all reason, and with it, the dreariest chances of hope. It touched upon dreams, it poisoned his words, it ate into his heart. With obvious reluctance, he tore his eyes away from her after he watched her climb the rat-lines, a single swaying figure against the outstretched parchment of the sky.
Love led to loss.
The sudden, all-consuming rage that had consumed him at her thoughtlessness slowly faded, and finally disappeared all together, like a drenched flame. A deep and throbbing emptiness filled him, banishing all but the comfort of nothing, the nagging of bearable pain.He reflected silently on the words he had spat at her in the midst of his passionate fury, and winced at the abrasive cruelty that they harbored. No wonder she had left him. The loathing reflected in her eyes at his slight touch brought back a torrent of bitterness, and he recoiled, cursing his arrogance.
Of course, he was not supposed to touch humans.
He had forgotten the differences that separated him from all others of his species. Alone in a way no one could fathom, he stood and gazed at the sea, lost in the musing grey. A strong, morbid urge threatened to overwhelm his resolve, and he sighed. He was meant for greater things then the cry of the forgotten. Tormented, his searched the deck for anyone to distract him from his current state of mind, and, quite against his will, his eyes drifted towards the mercenary.
The man paced the deck, flicking his whip; oblivious to anyone else’s presence. The thin, darkly clad pirate crept forward with a healthy respect, eyeing the enormous amount of weapons that were displayed in prominence. Standing beside him, although Septimus was a tall man, Rex was at least a head taller, and more powerfully muscled. He seemed a good man to have on your side, and he regarded him rather nervously. It was very much like being in acquaintance with a tame grizzly bear.
“The captain has declined to take us to the Council”, he muttered quietly, his eyes carefully lowered. He was restless it seemed, terrible trapped energy rushing through his body, as if invisible serpents were embedded beneath his skin. “We are being taken to Athkatla as planned, and the silly twit has obviously refused to negotiate with me”.
To his credit, despite the fierce blows the rogue had taken, he was being inerrably good-natured, even going so far as to inject a sense of humour into the grim situation. He shrugged lightly and glanced away. “I was given a name apparently left by Shaben himself, although I no idea what it means, one Mr Corfsand.” He cocked his head up to look at him.
“I doubt it has any meaning to you?”
He sighed, perhaps realising that he had picked an unwilling conversationalist. “Forgive me”, he intoned softly, “if I have interrupted your thoughts, or have angered you in any way. I seem to have that effect on people”. He started to depart from him, but paused as an idea occurred to him. “It seems that we have never met under more…felicitous circumstances. If and when you wish, I would like speak of the time our paths once crossed, for it is a time that may affect you as well as I”.
He gestured out to the expanse of sea, and smiled.
“We have the time”, he said softly.
Posted on 2008-05-18 at 00:58:52.
Edited on 2008-05-18 at 01:04:45 by Septimus Sandalwood
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Topic: Lantan Q&A
Subject: Right
* sits back and waits for TRSG's DM post *
Posted on 2008-05-17 at 01:06:37.
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Topic: Lantan Q&A
Subject: Posted
...in Lantan.
On to the Council!
Posted on 2008-05-16 at 21:00:13.
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Topic: Lantan
Subject: Child of Odd
He stood, epic, his limber frame tense, trembling, aghast. Dark eyes swerved over to the heavily armed mercenary, uncertain, voluntarily descending to the nature of a beast in his fear, he remained wordless. Again his gaze was cast out to sea, to the wilderness of masts, and he bowed his head, elaborate plans forming through the haze of guilt. Finally, he turned from the departing ship, his heart heavy with loss, adopting in the presence of his companions a position of cold neutrality.
“If it is by his will, I can do nothing for him”, he whispered brokenly, heart pounding, judgment nebulous. Forcing himself to become distanced from the situation, he limped heavily over to Evani and placed his hand on her soldier. He shook his head at her defiance, and, his abrasive tongue forgotten, carefully allotted her space.
He paused, a historic misanthrope caught in a battle of civility.
“Our leader Shaben is no longer able to guide us”, he muttered, addressing his fellows, “and although it is a disadvantage, we can not allow it to cripple us. There is a much greater occurrence that prohibits petty feelings of guilt, and it our duty to warn the Council of it”. He smiled grimly. “The war in Lantan will soon spread throughout its provinces. We have all suffered losses, and cannot allow others to do the same. “ He glanced towards the mercenary, and a glint of humour sparked in his eye. “We, my friends, are about to undertake something that no one will ever thank us for. If I have lived as a dog, I would die as a man”.
He fell into silence, and left Evani’s side, keeping to the rail, to solitude. Privately, the taciturn individual expressed his grief, and to his nature kept a noiseless lament of the friend that had been lost, perhaps forever. Endless cycles of debt had only culminated in such a bitter loss, about which he had been able to do nothing but stand powerless, watching the well-loved face of his friend disappear from view. His stomach twisted at the thought of the possible fates that awaited his old ally beyond the mellifluous warning of his captor. Death or destruction, he brooded over the sacred fire, banishing the phantom screams of the old scars that traced the pathways of his mind.
For the first time since boyhood, he dipped his head and closed his eyes, his palms pressed together in prayer, the archaic chants rising again through the blockage of his adult years like dragons from the deep. He brushed away the dust from the bright pleasures of childhood, his thoughts focused only on the one that he was loathe to forget as he would not be forgotten. A slave to the debt that bound him and his comrade, he cried out for mercy, knowing full well that the god of his heart could only be merciless, and that no amount of heartache delayed the ineluctable weight of death.
His eyes snapped open, baleful and reptilian, as he managed to make his way over to the captain, darkened by his repose. The rogue shifted his weight impatiently. “We seek the Council, I believe”, he stated, calmly inspecting his nails.
“Judging by our situation, we have no other course of action”.
Posted on 2008-05-16 at 20:53:53.
Edited on 2008-05-16 at 21:02:15 by Septimus Sandalwood
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Topic: Lantan Q&A
Subject: Hmmm.
Against his character, but perhaps he knows when he's beat.
Not going to attack.
Posted on 2008-05-15 at 23:47:39.
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Topic: Lantan Q&A
Subject: Unfortunate...
I will not be able to post in Lantan until tomorrow. Insane amount of work.
Tomorrow, I`ll have a post up.
However, TRSG, I need more information on what is going on in the game with the new enemy we are faced with.
If Sep goes after Shaben, what will happen?
And what can he do to help him?
Posted on 2008-05-15 at 14:42:26.
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