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You are here: Home --> Forum Home --> Recent posts by Vanadia
Topic: The Embodiment - A FUZIONfantasy Game
Subject: Poison, you say?


Caterina watched attentively as Galdecus, Hiterung and Fetrese put their heads together over the dagger. She was willing to be patient; she was wise enough to know that she wouldn’t have all the answers, and even those that did wouldn’t find them immediately. In this she was different from her brother; her twin would have been unable to remain still while the others thought. But that was Felipe the boy, she reminded herself, who knows what Felipe the man might have been.

“It is poisoned, though it would take an alchemist to determine the type,” Hiterung interrupted Caterina’s musings, and she frowned at the news.

“It might prove beneficial to determine just such a thing, Lady D’Oro, “ Fetrese offered, “ but it would require we retain the dagger for a time. We’ll put our libraries, scholars, and sages to work right away on the symbol as well. You are welcome to remain a guest within the temple—we have a few prayer cells available—while we perform this research.”

“Odd, don’t you think,” Caterina pondered out loud,” to summon a demon, transport it to my keep, only to have it attack me with merely a poisoned dagger? I rather expected it to be cursed, or enchanted somehow to lay a geas upon me, if such a thing is possible. Surely there was an easier way to poison me, if it were an ordinary poison. I think we must identify the exact toxin, no matter how difficult a task. “

“There are also arcane sources of information we could potentially utilize as well…” Galdecus offered up, reminding Caterina of a relationship she’d made some time ago with a particular Sylvari wizardess.

“And we could seek divine guidance…” Hiterung suggested.

“Rydor has obviously chosen the Lady Caterina as his champion once more,” Fetrese held out a hand to stall any further discussion and redirected their attention back to the paladin. “This is your quest, Lady. How would you like us to help, if at all?”

“I am grateful for all of your counsel, messirs, and you have given me hope that we shall divne Rydor’s Will in all of this. I would ask that your wisest alchemists be given the dagger, so that we may determine the nature of the poison. I also think we need to bring other skills to bear upon the matter, as suggested by Galdecus. Tell me, do you have a means to get a message quickly to Rayther? Someone had to have summoned that demon, and that means we need an expert in the arcane. “

OOC: I will wait for a response before posting further. The DM made reference to writing our shared histories, but I haven’t seen it? Would like to see if before referencing my acquaintance in a post.



Posted on 2009-01-19 at 03:42:29.
Edited on 2009-01-19 at 13:29:32 by Vanadia

Topic: The Embodiment Q&A
Subject: Apologies


The flu has knocked me on my ass. Feeling better today but I have a course to go to in the afternoon. Will have something tonight, but I know that blows your schedule. Sorry!

Posted on 2009-01-18 at 16:14:57.

Topic: You say it's your birthday.....
Subject: Happy Birthday, indeed!


Have a great one! As for birthday suits....mine could use taking in...a little tailoring here and there

Posted on 2009-01-15 at 12:45:45.

Topic: Voyages of Rocinante - Serenity/Firefly RPG
Subject: Decisions, decisions


The old man paused to gently wave away the girl serving the tea. Once alone again, his smile disappears, “Captain Wyatt fought in the war, did he not? On the side of independence?”

“Captain Sung makes no secret of his feelings towards the Alliance, “Willow responded smoothly. She was still not sure where this was headed, and she had the feeling had changed from chess to Texas Hold’em.

“There was much death and horror in the war, some of which has not seen the light of day and never should be revealed. It is good that you are a doctor, for it gives you an appreciation of life and a sense of that which would take life away and leave only darkness.” The old man cleared his throat on that cautious way of the elderly, “On Belyix, I want you to locate a man who calls himself Benny Xiau. Seek out the places where the ragged and desperate seek solace and escape, and you will find him. He has the missing white king from this set, and I want you to buy it off him. You will be given a purse of 750 credits, with a bank note to allow you to draw another 750 if needed from any bank in Newhouse. But beware, you will not be the only person looking for the piece, and I do not know how far others will go to get it.”

“That is a generous, some would say exorbitant, sum for a wooden carving, revered grandfather. Surely you could commission the crafting of a replacement? I feel that the chess piece is not merely a king, but something more,” Willow tried a subtle nudge for more information.

“The piece is key, Miss Tarahara. Key to something sinister that must remain in darkness forever. Once you have the king, return here, and give it to myself only. If you can not do so, then you will have to use the king as you see fit.”

The former Companion took a moment to inhale the fragrance of her tea, taking a slow sip while she tried to understand the significance of the chess piece. In the end, she settled for simplicity. “I don’t understand, grandfather, this is a different game than any I know.”

“All will become clear in time, Miss Takahara. Will you do this for me? Will you bring peace to an old shepherd before his final days?”

Willow had been trained out of any dress smoothing, hair fixing, jewelry touching, any fidgeting gestures that detracted from the image of serene confidence, but delaying tactics while considering an offer were permitted, as long as they were graceful. She rose to her feet effortlessly, her dancer’s legs playing peekaboo with the tight dress’ side slits, and moved around the room as she considered, her head cocked slightly in thought.

“We can do this for you, as long as there is no danger to my crew or ship. We are headed to Belyix, but were not necessarily plotting a course back here. Will you compensate us for our costs in returning? I can perform a favour for you out of affection, but I can’t ask the crew to be out of pocket for my whims,“ she finally responded, watching the old man for his reaction.

(Assuming agreement)

“Good. Now stay awhile with me and speak of the worlds beyond our own and the lives upon them. We shall break our fast together with some Dim Sum and enjoy the pleasure of each others company,” the elderly Shepherd invited, and Willow sank down across from him once more.

“Certainly, grandfather. Captain Sung will grow concerned if I tarry long without word, however. Could you send a message to him that I will meet him in an hour and perhaps someone could escort me to the town hall then?


Posted on 2009-01-14 at 13:05:13.

Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off Q&A
Subject: It's a Rollback, people!


Actually, Dapple had pretty much ignored Matty to this point, so he could disappear in a cloud of pink sparkly dust and Der Dap may not even notice.

Eol worked hard on him, I'm sure, so let's give him a chance to really play him when he's ready.

*hugs Eol gently*

Posted on 2009-01-12 at 00:26:26.

Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off
Subject: Denial - not just a river in Egypt


There were few occasions in which Dapple was caught flat-footed. Expecting the worst, she was usually not surprised by anything, but when Arien’s horse suddenly sprouted wings and took off (it was the sudden cessation of thudding hooves that made her look up), Dapple halted dead and stared open-mouthed. And so it was that she was watching, instead of creeping, when Char met his end.

She blinked in disbelief, a smirk ready to emerge when Char would spring up with a mocking laugh to attack again, soot-covered and shaggy. All she could hear above the roaring in her ears was her own heartbeat, counting out seconds until she realized that Char wasn’t getting up again, not ever.

Better this way. He was getting too chummy, and you were getting sloppy around him. Get moving and focus on the job, NOW!

Dapple stumbled into the shattered building, the lash of the dead voice the only thing she could feel. All else was cold, cold ice with its deadly edges and numbing grace. Shaking her head to clear it (ignoring the droplets that flew away as she did so)she cast about the remains of the room before her, but there was no other doorway that wasn’t a blasted hole. “What entranceway? What were they guarding? Was it all a ruse? The fireplace, maybe?”

The little thief padded to the fireplace, looking for tell-tale signs of secret passageways, but it was, indeed, merely a fireplace. If necessary, she mused, it would be a good way to get closer to handsome brother while remaining under cover…as long as she could fit.

A soft sound startled her, and she had daggers in hand before she identified the source, a heap of blankets. The blankets concealed a woman, crying softly and hugging the blankets to her self. Dapple cursed herself for not noticing sooner, and reminded herself that distraction was fatal.

“Stop your crying,” she told the woman roughly, her voice low.”Others are worse off, if you hadn’t noticed. What is this place? Why are the demons guarding it?”


Posted on 2009-01-12 at 00:24:20.

Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off Q&A
Subject: what the bloddy hell?


I go on one little trip and the DM kills of a charrie? Damn!

Winston as a Pegasus? Char charred? Did we pass some burning fields and inhale some wierd smoke? (sorry, I'm in Vancouver, I had to ask)

Sigh...gonna have to think about my next post, but yeah...Dapple's got some unspent gold she'll probably slip to Arien to bring back her shaggy "protector". Of course, for appearances' sake, she'll claim to have stolen the money. From Dwan, natch.

Posted on 2009-01-08 at 03:36:58.

Topic: Is Vanadia on a plane AGAIN?
Subject: Wow, January already???


Heading to Vancouver for a week...if I ever arrive, that is. Thanks to cost cutting and other admin nonsense, I am flying Toronto to Winnepeg, Winnepeg to Saskatoon, Saskatoon to Calgary, Calgary to Vancouver.

Ugh...

Posted on 2009-01-05 at 20:12:57.

Topic: Twilight- Any Fans?
Subject: Interesting discussions


I hadn't heard of anyone saying this was an example of the perfect relationship, but then again, my exposure to tween and teen girls (the main audience for the film and books) is limited to my daughter and her circle.

Haven't read the books, so only going by the movie, but both characters are flawed, yet drawn irresistibly to each other. They know it's a bad idea, yet can't help themselves...maybe not an "ideal" romance, but definitely classic.

What I found "true" in the movies was the akwardness, the keen yearning, the almost fractured way of speaking among the teens....how often do you see that truly captured? Too often, people in movies come across way more articulate than anyone we know in real life

Posted on 2009-01-05 at 00:51:46.

Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off
Subject: Did I just hear a spring let go?


It was wrong, all wrong. Two supernatural beings level a town, killing as many as possible, but let survivors escape – witnesses to tell the inevitable “rescue” party what lay ahead. The two beings wait in the middle of town, clear lines of sight all around them, on the most visible point in town, talking loudly so their location and inattention could not be mistaken.

Perhaps this was a bigger scale than Dapple was accustomed to – and the poisoned needle was more proverbial than actual, but Dapple recognized a trap when she saw one. She was relieved when the others apparently recognized the danger as well, but when the “plan” turned into what amounted to walking into the trap anyway, her heart sank. In her heart of cold little hearts, she’d come to realize that Arien’s idea of tactics was to charge right in, regardless of the situation, but to have everyone else agree and rush right in?

You weren’t speaking up with alternatives, little monster...so you are finally listening to me. Let everyone else spring the trap, then you can slip in under the cover of the inevitable slaughter to discover the prize.

Dapple wasn’t convinced there was a prize, but didn’t argue. It would just lead to more discomfort, and she’d do as the voice urged anyway, and a full on attack from a smallish hand-to-hand fighter didn’t seem like a winning strategy, either. So, when the others left to take their places for the attack, Dapple glided along behind, wrapped in her cloak and her thoughts of non-being. Before reaching the bend in the road, where they’d agreed to split up, Dapple reached into her clothing and drew out the drowsy Sunset, the little dragonet’s jewelled eyes blinking slowly.

She edged her horse closer to an overhanging branch and held Sunset up to it until the creature reluctantly climbed onto the branch, shortened tail grasping it like a fifth limb. ‘There’s no place for little beauties like you up ahead,” Dapple whispered to Sunset,” and it’s going to get dangerous fast. Stay safe, and …if we don’t come back, you get away from here, alright?” She patted the dragonet’s head awkwardly and nudged her horse away, pushing away regret and worry into icy nothingness.

The beautiful brother (for so Dapple had labelled them in her mind: the beautiful brother and the ugly brother) seemed to be able to detect their approach, though it was probably not difficult. As Arien and Maximus spurred themselves forward into a direct attack, Dapple dismounted and melted into the shattered streets of Helvorn, blending into the rubble as best she could. She noted where each of her companions were headed and made for a spot well away from each of them, but with an approach to the tall chimney that had what little cover was available. For now, Dapple would watch and wait; she was outside the useful range for thrown daggers and wouldn’t move closer until the brothers were well and truly distracted.




Posted on 2008-12-31 at 13:42:52.

Topic: The Embodiment - A FUZIONfantasy Game
Subject: Endings and beginnings


It had been a long night, though Caterina did not track the hours once she lost herself in prayer. Hers was a deep form of prayer, moving beyond ritual gestures and solemn poetry into a wordless communion with her God. Still, the passage of time made itself felt with stiffening knees and cold hands, and Caterina returned to herself in the cold light of dawn.

Preparations for Ethain’s funeral were soon underway, and many a servant stopped in their tasks to express their sympathy to their lady. She received their words gravely, accepting the small kindnesses with grace, while reassuring her people that the immediate danger was past.

Once Carin Sollance arrived, the ceremony proceeded apace. With the priest leading the readings from the Book of Rydor, the assembled household bowed their heads in respect for the fallen squire. At a gesture from Carin, Caterina rose to add her words to Ethain’s farewell. She prayed for Ethain’s soul, that he may repose in Rydor’s glory after passing through D’hurgen’s realm. She expressed her thankfulness for having known him, his staunch devotion to his duties and his gentle care of his lady knight. She shared some moments from their life together, smiling wistfully over some moment, and beaming proudly at another. She urged her people to hold Ethain in their hearts, and to take his quiet devotion and steadfast attention as worthy models to aspire to.

Her clear voice never wavered, and her proud Drannese visage showed only serene resolution, yet those close to her could see the shimmer in those golden eagle’s eyes. Her embrace of Carin Sollance at the conclusion of the ceremony was perhaps warmer than her wont, gratitude for the priest’s presence pushing past her customary reserve.

With Ulant instructed to show all hospitality to Rydor’s priest, and the burial concluded, Caterina could address herself to the pressing matter of the attack, and it’s aftermath. She donned her armour with the help as a hastily summoned young squire (“Tilian is his name, Tilian…” she murmured to herself), and while she could not fully take on the mourning attire of a Drannese lady, she did allow Tilian to attach a black lace scarf to trail from her helm, and to quickly sew a black velvet band onto her gold brown cloak.

Striding into the courtyard, she whistled once, sharply, though it was more from habit than anything else. Rico, her Divine Companion, needed no summons other than her need, yet still she used the commands he’d learned as a mortal warhorse. He’d been trained to be Felipe’s mount, but with her twin’s death, Caterina had needed a swift horse, and with equine generosity, Rico had given himself a new mistress.

Rico materialized at her summons, trotting from nothingness to stand before her, resplendent in the gold and black barding of the Aguilera D’Oro family. A glossy black Andalusion warhorse, Rico’s hooves were nearly the size of Caterina’s head, yet he pranced with a colt’s impatience to be moving.

Caterina mounted and settled herself in the saddle, arranging her cloak over Rico’s withers and reaching forward to scratch the white blaze under his headpiece. With a few final instructions to Ulant, she was off, Rico’s steady stride making the miles dissipate as surely as the morning’s fog.

Normally, Caterina was humbled and somewhat chagrined at how quickly the throngs of Drefast made way for Rico, but today, she appreciated the time it saved her. Murmuring her thanks and nodding her head graciously to those who met her gaze, she still slowed Rico to a safe walk, the great warhorse fighting the bit out of sheer contrariness.

Her heart was heavy with Ethain’s loss, and concern over her demonic attacker, but she made sure to hold her head high and shoulders straight. Such a task was easier as her golden gaze found the stone walls of Rydor’s temple rising above the mundane buildings above it. Its grey and white edifice was plain and sturdy; Rydor’s strength made manifest in this world, and Caterina’s troubled heart could not but lighten at the sight.

As quickly as she was able to make her way through the crowded streets, word of her arrival traveled faster, and Fetrese stood at the temple doors to greet her.

“Lady Caterina,” He spread his arms wide, the purple sleeves falling to his knees with the gesture “It is truly an honor to receive you. We heard you’d entered Drefast and could only hope that you’d grace our humble halls with your presence. We’re pleased that this is the case.

“Do you require a private prayer room? A blessing, perhaps?”

The Right Hand of Rydor dismounted and climbed the steps to the temple, swiftly going down upon one knee before the Master of the Iron Tomb. He was of the Iron Flame, and she a Justicar, yet did their sects cooperate in the affairs of Rydor. She bowed her head as she knelt, her shining black hair, cut to a nobleman’s length, swinging forward to obscure her proud features.

“Who among us would not benefit from Rydor’s blessing? I, for one, would not say no to its benefice,” she answered, closing her eyes as Fetrese laid an open hand upon her head, his deep voice invoking Rydor’s blessing. She drank in its peace as gratefully as one lost in the desert, before rising to clasp Fetrese by both arms in a warrior’s greeting.

“I also have need of your counsel, and that of your most discreet and learned advisors. Perhaps we may retire to your study?” Caterina confined herself to polite enquiries after the health of those she knew serving in the temple, until Manderes closed the door to his study, and she could be assured of privacy (OOC: I leave it to the DM to determine who else Manderes summons to the study…Caterina will wait until all are present)

There, Caterina described the attack of the bull-horned, crow-feathered demon, its features and the curious brand upon its head, even taking up pen and ink to sketch the details of the brand as she remembered it. She detailed how the creature bore a greatsword yet confined its strike attempts with the black dagger, and she brought forth the danger and laid it gingerly upon Fetrese’s desk. As the others leaned forward to examine it closely, she shared with them the creature’s only words. You are to die now, Knight. This was intended for you: Compliments of the Eloquent Mask of Obarin.

“I was able to defeat it, with Rydor’s grace, but it slew my squire Ethain. I know not this Mask of Obarin, or why he seeks my death, but now I have an accounting with this…Mask” the last was spat disdainfully as Caterina paced about the room. She stopped and spun to face Fetrese as she finished, the question clear in her eyes.



Posted on 2008-12-24 at 14:42:08.
Edited on 2008-12-24 at 20:42:01 by Vanadia

Topic: The Embodiment Q&A
Subject: will post tonight


busy weekend of Christmas prep! And no-one was sick!

Posted on 2008-12-15 at 11:23:58.

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


Excellent post, Blamm! Welcome back!

Posted on 2008-12-11 at 12:32:40.

Topic: Voyages of Rocinante - Serenity/Firefly RPG
Subject: Why is Sinatra singing in the background?


Willow hadn’t been sure what to expect. Of course she’d been searched before – never as a fledgling Companion: clients used sophisticated detection equipment and never had to resort to physical searches – and sometimes, Willow was the only crew member people insisted on searching. It served as a distraction from the others may be carrying, and if the searches were sometimes just a chance to grab a quick feel, as the expression went, Willow recited the University Hospital Pharmacopoeia to herself and tried to not pay attention.

Lao Tsu appeared to be cut from a different cloth, however, so the search would either be coldly professional or brusque – just a saving of face after she surrendered the pin and clearly could not be concealing anything under the closely fitted dress. As it was, the gold embroidered phoenix and chrysanthemums shimmered on the sapphire silk with every heartbeat, and each breath risked the tiny pearl buttons down the side.

Still, the leader of the Tong stepped forward silently, his face neutrally polite. He sent feather light fingers along her bare arms and up under her hair at the back of her neck to search her scalp. When his hands slid down her back, between the silk of her dress and the softer silk of her hair, Willow was startled when he prodded gently at the pressure points that promoted relaxation and warmth.

She brought her gaze back from the wall behind him to look at him in surprise, and while his expression did not change, his eyes danced with suppressed mischief. He knelt, still keeping her gaze, before bowing his head to concentrate on his hands’ task. When he touched Willow on the inside of her thighs with a lover’s tenderness, she closed her eyes and bit her lip to hold back any sound. As his hands continued to move, stroking her masterfully, her own outstretched hands clenched, fighting the urge to bury themselves in his hair and draw him closer.

As swiftly as it began, it ended, and Willow found herself fighting for composure as Lao Tsu rose and stepped back. She had a brief vision of pushing him back against the wall and kissing him with all her strength, but sanity prevailed. More importantly, anger distantly flared as it occurred to her that perhaps she was being played; an attempt to distract her from her purpose.

“That was very…um, interesting, Lao Tsu,” she breathed, cheeks warm as she reached up to smooth her hair before similarly rearranging the lines of her dress. “Your hands make an invitation that I cannot accept, at least not now. Perhaps later, after I have spoken with your grandfather. If you are satisfied….?”

“You may enter now.” He said with a bow and gestures to the door. “Grandfather awaits you.”

Willow walked though carved doors into a room even more private than the garden, though bearing its scent of lavender and roses, freesia a light note among the deeper florals. The room itself, despite its lush fragrance, was austerely furnished, a monk’s cell of asceticism. The old man sat in the center of the room, a wooden carved chess set before him.

“Do you play, Miss Takahara?” the old man asked.

“I do,” Willow responded, before sinking to her knees before the chessboard, tucking her heels neatly beneath her, “it was part of my training to learn all forms of board games and other diversions. Though, revered grandfather, one of us will have already lost before we begin. The white king, I fear, is missing.”




Posted on 2008-12-08 at 00:20:28.

Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off Q&A
Subject: Less chat, more post


wanna get to try out my new level, hehe...

Posted on 2008-12-04 at 19:18:40.

Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off
Subject: This is how you post, peeps!


The trip to and from the town were accomplished in silence, in order to avoid attracting the attention of the two entities standing guard in town. Riding the horses partway was easy enough, but when Char signaled to continue on foot, Dapple wasn’t quite prepared for the speed the ranger expected. Dapple could move fast, but in the confines of a city street, it was typically in short bursts. Here, Char set a pace in a ground eating pace that had Dapple struggling to keep up. Stubbornly, she persisted, and realized that while her legs and lungs burned with the effort, she was nearly as quiet as when she was moving at half the speed.

More of your monstrous birthright. Good to know, now focus on running.

Dapple smiled grimly to herself that the dead voice sounded as out of breath as she felt, shaking her head when the ranger threw her a questioning look. At the periphery of the town, Dapple crouched behind a shattered wall, her mottled clothing a form of camouflage, and took in as much as she could while getting her breathing back under control. These two creatures called themselves brothers, but they could not be more different in appearance. The ugly one looked to be a brawler type, but Dapple wouldn’t discount his having other attacks available, but the other looked like he wouldn’t get his hands dirty in a physical fight. Dapple pondered the options (coming up with very little) until Char touched her cloak lightly to signal their withdrawal.

Once back with the others, Dapple let Char do the talking, adding minor details here and there. She then wrapped herself in silence, listening to the others debate a course of action. Her role here would be minor; as always before a larger battle, she wondered what she was even doing in this situation.



Posted on 2008-12-04 at 19:17:56.

Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off Q&A
Subject: Dapple's strategy


Divide and conquer, baby, divide and conquer....

Ugly boy wants women? We should see how distractable he is by sending him the illusion of a comely female needing "consoling"...draw him off to where we can tackle him on his own.

Too bad we don't still have Shona or Alloryn along!

Posted on 2008-12-02 at 17:36:31.

Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off Q&A
Subject: To Raven


Sorry you are hurting...take the time to heal and I'm sure we'll need you to heal us soon enough, lol

Posted on 2008-12-02 at 17:33:21.

Topic: The Embodiment Q&A
Subject: Moving ahead


Caterina's intentions would be to seek out the servants at the time they were expected, and instruct them to make preparations in the morning for a funeral (I believe in the other game that Ethain had no family?), then she would take the dagger to the local Church of Rydor.

We hadn't worked out contacts and connections for Caterina, so I did not want to take the post too far on assumptions.

Posted on 2008-11-30 at 22:33:37.

Topic: The Guiding Light
Subject: I am a Leaf on the Wind


En’Aranthea would have cursed in frustration at the pirate’s actions had she’d been able to do so, but as soon as he’d moved unexpectedly, she’d shifted into the bladesinger’s battle trance, a keening note rising from her throat as she brought her blade up.

The trance did what it was meant to do: washed away emotion and unnecessary sensation, and sharpened her perceptions and reactions. Any anger at the pirates or fear for her comrades soared away on the notes of her song, leaving her cold-eyed and clear to the dangers around her.

The pirate professed no intention of fighting her, but his actions implied something less than total surrender. The main danger was below, but En’Aranthea was not about to turn her back on a foe. If he claimed he didn’t want to fight, she’d make sure of it. With the stunning speed of the bladesingers, the sylvari maiden took several strides forward, Leaf Dancing on the Wind and delivered a swift cut along the upper right arm of the pirate, before dancing back out of range. The cut wasn’t fatal, but painful, and he’d now lack the strength to hold and fire a crossbow.

She took a quick glance below her to locate the approach of the attackers, then dropped to the ground, one hand grasping the rope ladder enough to slow her fall to a safe speed. Landing, she swirled her blade in a challenge and advanced on the rushing pirates, putting herself between them and her companions


Posted on 2008-11-28 at 22:25:28.
Edited on 2008-11-28 at 22:25:56 by Vanadia

Topic: Twilight- Any Fans?
Subject: Christopher Lee


And Saruman!

I'm thinking I will just have to borrow these books, and find out what all the fuss is about

Posted on 2008-11-27 at 01:43:19.

Topic: The Embodiment - A FUZIONfantasy Game
Subject: Aftermath


As quickly as the battle had begun, it was over. Caterina only had to tempt the creature once with a seemingly foolish move, and it did exactly as she’d hoped; attacking past its natural reach with the dagger and therefore exposing itself to a sword thrust.

Still, as the creature shuddered upon her blade and began its death throes, the battle maiden stepped back pulled her blade free, ready should the creature rally. She felt a moment of almost compassion for the creature’s maddened pain, until she remembered that the blood on its greatsword was Ethain’s, not hers. She watched, resolutely, as it fought for life, and disintegrated into death. Whatever spell that had summoned it did not last past its death, and the creature disappeared back from whence it came, leaving only the black dagger, and its blood, behind.

Caterina let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, and sank to one knee, dropping the tray with a clatter to clasp the pommel of her sword, its tip resting lightly on the bloodstained carpet. She bowed her head, raven hair falling forward, and opened her soul’s eye to look upon Rydor.

“My Lord God,” she prayed, “ I dedicate this victory to thy glory, for the Hand that stayed evil was Thine, the Will that triumphed was Thine, and I am humbled to have been your Vessel. Thou hast been my shield, my sword, and I lay my life once more at Thy feet in thanks and praise.”

A moment more spent in wordless prayer; a fervent wish that Rydor would forgive her haste, but her Lord God lived outside of time, and she was all too much held captive by its passage. She opened her eyes and stood once more, surveying the carnage wrought upon the room by the brief battle. In the end, they were only things, and replaceable, and Caterina dismissed sentimentality to clean her sword’s blade on the now ruined couch. Once she sheathed the sword, she took tongs from the fireplace stand and used them to pull the dagger from the couch, placing it gingerly on the now dented silver tray. She’d no idea whether the weapon was cursed or simply poisoned, but she was loath to touch it without the council of those wiser in such matters.

She then made her way back to Ethain, and knelt at his side. She turned him over gently, and tears began to flow as she closed his staring eyes with calloused fingers. “Let me wash away your sins and regrets with my tears, my friend,” she whispered as she hugged him close,” so that you may travel to D’Hurgen’s lands clean and renewed.” Bracing herself, she lifted the dead man in her arms and carried him to the family chapel, where she’d given her life to Rydor so many years before. She staggered a few times under the dead weight, but she was determined to do this.

In the chapel, she laid out Ethain before the altar, straightening his limbs and cleaning his face with her lace handkerchief so that he almost looked peaceful. The servants would return in the morning, and proper arrangements for Ethain’s burial would be made, but for now, Caterina stood vigil for her friend.




Posted on 2008-11-27 at 01:29:28.
Edited on 2008-11-27 at 01:32:06 by Vanadia

Topic: The Embodiment Q&A
Subject: Postage due


I'll have a post up tomorrow evening!

Posted on 2008-11-25 at 03:51:46.

Topic: Voyages of Rocinante - Serenity/Firefly RPG
Subject: Longer than I meant this to be, sorry


It had been a long night, but at least it was over. Willow had worried over Sam being away from the ship, and the memory of the dead bounty hunter haunted her thoughts…as well as her nostrils. She’d gone outside with the others when the ship had been rocked by the full engine take-off, and she’d been the one to realize he’d been shot dead before the blast had hit him. It was then that the smell penetrated her concentration, the charred, sickly sweet smell of cooked flesh. Her stomach turned, and it was all she could do not to retch. Even after she’d returned to the ship and cleaned up, the smell lingered on her, and she’d finally used her next day’s wash water ration to wash herself, scrubbing until her skin and scalp tingled. It was a long time before she could make herself sleep.

Her morning alarm chimed all too soon, and she began the careful process to ready herself for her meeting with the Shepherd. The sapphire cheongsam was perfect for a daytime appointment requiring modest dress; its high collar and long skirt left only her arms bare, with brief flashes of leg through the slits that barely made walking possible. She did up the tiny buttons running up the right side seam of the dress, drawing the masterfully tailored dress close to her willowy figure.

A jade bracelet and tiny jade earrings, all matching her eyes, were her only adornment, besides her butterfly pin holding her silken hair up off her neck. Likewise, her makeup was light and tasteful, a touch of gold dust around the eyes and peach lipstick. Fortunately, her long night didn’t show on her face, and she needed little else to look fresh and dewy-eyed.

“You almost look like the dutiful daughter,” she told her reflection, who crossed her eyes and stuck her tongue out. Laughing merrily, she made her way to the kitchen and greeted everyone warmly, exclaiming happily over Sam’s return and welcoming Fenris to the ship. When Asher told them about burying the dead man, Willow had the blink away a sudden welling of tears. She hugged the surprised gunfighter and kissed him on the forehead, making him blush furiously. “You’re a good man, Asher Talhone, a good man.”

“I’ll want you to come see me in the medical bay after I return from my appointment, Fenris, dear,” she smiled at the new ship’s mechanic,seating herself at the table, and pouring tea for any who wanted some” I need a complete physical and full medical history for every crew member, so I know what I’m starting with before you start getting yourself shot at. Oh no, Auntie, no flapjacks for me. I’ll pop a button or two if I have more than a sip of miso today.”

True to her word, she sipped tea and had a few spoonfuls of miso while the Captain spoke of the day’s tasks. She nodded at the reminder about the chocolate and rum, and shook her head ruefully at the implication that she’d rather keep the chocolate. She accepted the 50 credits (there may just be a decent shop or two in town after all) and declined the offer of an escort. “The Tong would lose serious face by letting anything happen to me, Captain-San. I would insult them by bringing along “protection.””

At the appointed time, Willow made her way to the temple, where she was shown to an inner room. She was delighted with the secret garden, and was gently stroking a rose petal against her cheek (which of the two could be softer or smoother?) when a man spoke from behind her.

“It is the beauty within, that few see which truly shows us the measure of a person.”

Willow whirled around smoothly to see the man she’d seen yesterday, the one with an air of authority. He wore it as clearly as the red sash on his gi, but Willow could see signs of laughter in the creases around his eyes.

“It takes a strong person to reveal that which is kept private. I thank you for the gift of time in this garden. It revives my soul, “Willow responded carefully, with an incline of her head. The man bowed slightly in acknowledgement.

I’m sorry,” he said, “ I did not mean to startle you. I am Lao Tsu. You have an appointment with Grandfather.”

“Indeed,” Willow agreed,” at the first light, as he wished. May I see him now?”

You are a very beautiful woman, and you have done me a great service by coming to grandfather’s aid in town,” Lao Tsu said smoothly, his words as silk on her skin. Willow felt his eyes looking into hers, and seeing through to her soul. “Unfortunately, every Rose has thorns and some are well hidden. I cannot allow you to see grandfather without knowing you pose no threat to him. Will you allow me to search you or shall I send for my sister?”

The former Companion didn’t answer immediately, taking her time to consider her options and take the measure of the man before her. Her decision made, she smiled warmly holding her arms away from her sides, an invitation to pat her down.

“I thank you for the courtesy, but do not disturb your sister. I have never had fear of a man’s touch, and that’s not going to change now. But before you do,” she stopped him with a gesture before raising her hands to her hair and removing the butterfly pin,” take this without touching the tip, and you will have my one thorn.”

She held the butterfly pin out with both hands, as her hair tumbled down to fall about her shoulders. “I am under your protection now, Lao Tsu.”


Posted on 2008-11-23 at 02:25:05.

Topic: Hi everyone
Subject: Welcome sweetie!


Ok, so that will be the last time I use cutesie pie language...making my daughter squirm

I hope...maybe...we'll see.

Join games when you're ready. Otherwise, there's lots to explore here, with poems, stories, and the games are fun to read, too.

BTW, when MMV is ready to play, she's got to be the best fighter/mage I've ever played with! (Sorry, Bobbo!)

Posted on 2008-11-19 at 12:11:59.

 


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