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ADBOT LOVES YOU
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May 22, 2024 19:12
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- Preechr
- May 19, 2009
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Proud member of the Pony-Brony Alliance for Obama as President
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Where can this masterpiece be found? I must watch it.
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Jul 22, 2019 21:42
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- Cooked Auto
- Aug 4, 2007
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Where can this masterpiece be found? I must watch it.
No idea about where it can be found legally on the top of my head but its available in full on Youtube at least.
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Jul 22, 2019 21:57
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- MonsterEnvy
- Feb 4, 2012
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Shocked I tell you
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It also had "They killed Fritz"
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ujQ-nMc0WGE
MonsterEnvy fucked around with this message at 22:49 on Jul 22, 2019
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Jul 22, 2019 22:47
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- Tuxedo Catfish
- Mar 17, 2007
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You've got guts! Come to my village, I'll buy you lunch.
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This was after spending the whole movie not allowing the good guys to use modern weapons because he considered them evil.
Not so much because he considered them evil, IIRC, as that he wants at all costs to preserve the new order of the world and prevent a return to the way things used to be. He shoots his brother during a private conversation that nobody else witnesses, as a last resort that he knows full well is hypocritical, because he knows he's a relic of a bygone era himself and not the one who's going to make (hopefully better) decisions about the future.
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Jul 22, 2019 23:17
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- Agrikk
- Oct 17, 2003
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Take care with that! We have not fully ascertained its function, and the ticking is accelerating.
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Hall of Harsh Reflections
quote:
We follow Snakeeyes back into Sodden Hold, which sits at the water’s edge like a rotten log washed ashore. It is built mostly of stone with a wooden shingle roof thick with long, ropy moss. The entire building has a green hue, owing to the large patches of moss and old that grow on its walls.
We quickly move past offices, closets, and the warehouse floor, moving past the cells that once contained us prisoners and into unexplored parts of the warehouse. The warehouse itself is has partially collapsed and creates a maze-like structure that we have to pass though, fighting strange invisible monsters that ambush us as we move though the building.
We descent to a water-logged basement level and venture into some kind of lair, and are immediately set upon by several grey and rubbery skinned doppelgangers who shriek and sound the alarm that prisoners have escaped. The doppelgangers prove challenging combatants as they seemed to be able to read our minds and predict our moves. As we fight, several disengage and flee back into the depths of this waterlogged realm raising the alarm.
We defeat the doppelgangers and press on, following the footsteps of the others that escaped. We push through a maze of thick sticky webs and the giant spiders inhibiting them to a rough throne room, complete with a wood and stone dais and a carved wooden throne upon which Allustan sits. He is flanked by several mages and sages that I know by sight from the Great Library.
Allustan stands and beckons us forward into the room. “So kind of you to join me,” he says. "It is time for me to show you the truth of things. Come and learn what lies beyond!” The situation quickly devolves into chaos as Severance and I send our bolts into Allustan as the mages from the Library respond in kind. Two of the sages shapechange into Ospar and Snakeeyes and it takes careful attention to keep track of them as we fight our opponents.
The fight goes well for us as Ospar and Snakeeyes press their opponents hard, but then Allustan shapechanges into a strange-looking barbarian who hefts a magical great-axe and wades into the fray. I am content to parry with my staff as I find opportunities to use my wand, laying about with shock bolts and water bolts as I can. We are closely matched, but we four are used to fighting together as a unit whereas the doppelgangers fight as individuals and we overcome them one at a time, with each doppelganger returning to its true form when slain.
The Allustan-barbarian proves stubborn and grievously wounds both Severance and Ospar before he succumbs to our attacks and he finally drops to the floor from a water bolt I send his way. As he returns to his native doppelganger shape, I notice that he has a mark that on his forehead looks like a spiraling tentacle.
As Ospar tends to the wounded I begin to plunder the dead and look around the room, finding an interesting sack that looks no bigger than a large purse, but actually capable of holding many more cubic feet than that. Besides a lot of gold, the Allustan-thing had some interesting enchanted items including a magic axe with a blade that was permanently frost-covered, two magic rings and a wand of healing. The four Mages and Sages each had a neatly folded and knotted strangler’s cloth of yellow or red silk.
“Somma th’ Exile’s ilk?” asks Severance.
“Deceivers, surely,” replies Snakeeyes as he toes the corpse of a doppelganger. “But are they running in the same crowd?”
I have wandered away from the main hall and am investigating what looks to be the Allustan-thing’s private room. It contains a coffer with more gold, a neat rug that changes pattern on command and a large chest containing all manner of documents, treaties, merchant dealings, religious decrees and a message stuffed on top of the pile.
“I have a task for you, Telakin.” it reads. “Meet me at the sewer junction beneath the cold forge and I will give you the details. There are some troublesome small minds that must be removed.” The document is signed with a mark that looks like a spiraling tentacle.
We also find a large mirror, weighing upwards of several hundred pounds, that we later determine to have the ability to show the true form of any creature disguising its shape.
Snakeeyes gestures to the message I hold in my hand as we build our loot pile for transport. “We should follow this wherever it takes us. I want to burn all of these people out.”
“I agree,” I say. “Anyone ever hear of any cold forge anywhere?”
Ospar begins to roll up the rug and stuff it into the magic sack. “Mung will know. When we get back to the surface, I’ll ask him about this.”
So we stuff the bag full and begin the arduous process of getting the massive mirror back through the ruins of the lower level and back up to the street. I create shuffling zombies out of the doppelgangers to carry the mirror but it is still slow going.
We get back to the surface level and begin our trek through the cages room and into the office area when simultaneously the room goes pitch black and we are struck by a mental wave that manifests as a whiteout of blinding pain deep within the skull. Severance and Ospar are staggered and fall over in pain and I hear Snakeeyes leap forward and the ringing of his katana being drawn.
I cast a spell that boosts my vision to be able to see heat instead of light and see two figures attacking Snakeeyes with a bent and twisted figure standing well back. Severance and Ospar are recovering, so I engage one of the figures, completely forgetting to instruct the zombies to attack.
But Severance, Ospar, Snakeeyes and I make quick work of the pair and the darkness fades, revealing two drow elves bleeding on the floor. The third figure is revealed as a bent and gaunt humanoid with rubbery purple-black skin and what can only be described as an octopus for a head, with a large bulbous cranium and many tentacles drooping from its lower face. It is dressed in black robes and holding a slender staff.
When it sees the drow go down, it turns and creates a slash in the air that opens into a gate. The view beyond is the world in black and white. The creature steps through the gate into Shadow Thalos and closes the gate behind it, leaving the four of us with four zombies, two drow elf corpses and our bundles of booty.
“Did you see that, Pepper?” says Ospar. “That thing made a gate without the granite slab!”
“Neat trick. Let’s get out of here, find it and kill it.”
We pick up our loot bundles, nurse our migraines and head for the entrance of Sodden Hold.
“New base, I think,” says Severance.
“To wet, too old, too creepy” says Snakeeyes as he hefts a bundle. He pats the magic sack on his belt. “We have plenty of gold so I say we just hop from inn to inn for a while. What should we do with this chest of papers?”
“A peace offering.”
“A what, now?”
“A peace offering. Some of these documents show the inner workings of a lot of different powers within Thalos. We deliver this chest to the LBC and the Maze and explain that this is probably the group responsible for all the smuggling through Shadow Thalos. Also explain that all of these other power blocks are thoroughly compromised by the Deceivers. I bet that our very own Chopper the Black and Prather Longarm would love a box of information like this. They’ll benefit. They’ll make sure their respective guilds benefit. The revelation that there are doppelgangers in the Deceiver ranks will absolve us of Thadzji’s attempted murder. The Guilds will no longer want us dead. Simple.”
Snakeeyes looks at me with his expressionless golden eyes. “Yeah. Simple.”
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Jul 25, 2019 06:10
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- Agrikk
- Oct 17, 2003
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Take care with that! We have not fully ascertained its function, and the ticking is accelerating.
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Under the Cold Forge
quote:
I discreetly ditch my four zombies and then stop in the first inn that we can find, which turns out to be the Soup and Sop on Slash Street. It is a large and clean establishment and rowdy. We slip inside and get four rooms from the proprietor, a Yaghannish man named Sleazy Ughns.
The first thing we do when we get up to our rooms is sit in front of the mirror to prove that all of us are all of us, which dispels any lingering paranoia. We spend the day recuperating and puzzling over a detail of the two drow we killed: they both had a yellow phosphorescent fungus on their boots.
Ospar says, “It was Beggar’s Gold. It’s a fungus that grows in the sewers, but nowhere around here.”
Severance sips at a mug of tea, “D’ya think it might’a be from Shadow Thalos?”
“I dunno,” he says. “But it’ll help us locate our next target some, knowing that there needs to be Beggar’s Gold around.”
As night falls he laces up his gear and heads out into the streets to find Mung to see if he knows the location of anything called “the cold forge”. By dawn he has already returned.
“I found Mung and he told me that there is a smithy called Cold Forge over on Wailing Street in the Merchants Quarter. Its run by a man named Crusty Patten who lives above it. According to Mung he’s a mean old man, but legitimate so whatever it is it isn’t in his shop. Since Beggar’s Gold grows in damp and dark, I’m guessing the meeting point is probably in the sewers nearby.”
I pause over my breakfast and put my fork down. “Have you seen the shop?”
“Yeah. I went over there after talking with Mung. It’s a decent little place and yeah, there’s a grate nearby. It’s in the middle of the road, though, so unless we want Brownshirts involved we’ll have to go down at night to do our search for this thing’s lair.”
“Speaking of Mung, do you think we can have him deliver this chest of papers to the Red Axe folk?”
“Eh. I doubt it, but I think we can deliver a message to Thadzji that we’ve left something for Prather and Chopper here.”
“That should be sufficient.”
We spend the day moving to a new inn, the Red Pearl on Water Rat Road while Ospar gets word to Mung about our gift to The Maze and the LBC. We unpack in our new rooms and Snakeeyes unloads his magic bag. “In preparation for tonight,” he says.
Using Ospar’s directions from Mung we head across the city to the Cold Forge and find the grate, which is a heavy rusted iron affair. I quickly use telekinesis to lift the grate and set it quietly to one side, and then we scamper down a set of rungs cut into the wall. Once again we find ourselves in the sewers of Thalos, standing on a ledge running parallel to a river of foul sludge flowing under the City to drain into the river.
We begin our search for a large patch of the yellow phosphorescent mold which takes us through the warrens of the sewers. We walk in single file on the ledge while attempting to avoid slipping into the noisome sludge and over the next several hours we encounter many strange beasts who call this rotting underbelly of the City home. Some leave us alone, like the massive block of clear acidic jelly that floated by in the sludge as it burned off the algae that lined the trench. Others, like the strange snake-like things with multiple tentacles for a face that tried to make us their next meal, required swift and harsh correction from Severance and Snakeeyes for the error of their ways.
But eventually we found a mark of a spiraling tentacle carved into a rock wall of the tunnel and our search soon turned up a crack in the wall of the sewer leading to a yellow fungus filled cavern. Here Ospar stopped us. “’Ware everyone. While some yellow mold is the Beggar’s Gold we seek, but other yellow mold shoots spores that are incredibly deadly. It is difficult to tell which is which, so it is best to avoid getting to near, brushing against or stepping on any yellow-colored mold at all.”
Snakeeyes says, “All this lore from catching rats? Where do I sign up?”
Ospar: “The Department of Sanitation Department: You are not only the president, but you are also a member.”
We move through the crack and into the large cavern beyond, avoiding the yellow fungus on the ground, but we fail to notice the large fungus-covered toadstools that begin a harsh shrieking when we get too close. They are covered with yellow fungus so it takes us a moment to use oil and alchemical fire to burn them to cinders without the potential back blast of yellow spores. But we surely have rung the front door chime for all the inhabitants beyond.
Some of those inhabitants arrive shortly thereafter in the form of three drow elves who announce their presence by casting darkness over the area and shooting at us with hand crossbows. But we are ready this time with infravision spells cast and the famed drow fighting prowess is not match for Snakeeyes’ and Severance’s. We loot their corpses and move deeper into the fissure.
We travel a few hundred feet and the gently sloping passageway ends in a large chamber dominated on the far side by a pool of water formed by a leaking cistern above before flowing out of the room in a thin stream. Something in the pool glows a pale green, bathing the room in sifting curtains of light. As we move through the room, a large serpent thing uncoils slowly, almost languidly, from around a stalagmite and moves towards us, green eyes glowing in an almost human face on a serpentine body. Whatever it is it wants to kill us so we kill it first. We search the room, find some gold and platinum in the thing’s nest and move past this room into a warren of caves. We fight through some drow elf warriors and their priestess who proves to be a tough warrior in addition to devoted to her spider god and before she falls she takes her toll on us. We rest briefly and allow Ospar to pray to Hextor for us and grant us healing then we continue.
We reach a large cavern with a pair of white ivory doors set into rough walls. The doors are flanked by everburning torches and are etched with a spiral tentacle symbol on their face. But we are immediately set upon by three creatures that are a horrifying fusion of octopus and... something else- it's not entirely clear. They have multiple tentacles, two of which end in large pincers, the rest of which they use for movement. Instead of two eyes located on either side of their head, each of their tentacles are studded with eyes along their length. Instead of the typical octopus beak, their pincer claws have similar orifices they use to slurp up prey after their crushing tentacles have reduced their bodies to a pulp.
These creatures have a strange ability to slow us if we look directly into an eye of theirs, which throws off our attack and we become flanked several times to sore effect. Severance and I use movement spells to reposition ourselves and we wreak havoc on them as Snakeeyes and Ospar form a defensive line, using blind fighting techniques to avoid their gaze.
In the next room, past the double doors is a tall domed chamber with a large brain, carved from a single block of purple-veined white marble sitting on a dais. Its veins seem to pulsate with every breath I take and immediately I feel an attack against my psyche. I feel as though all I need to do is sit down and rest and all of my troubles would go away. But I have too much hate inside of me. Too many unresolved acts of vengeance to attend do and the brain has no effect on me. Apparently the others have similar drives because Snakeeyes grabs the magic battle axe from his magic sack and begins to slam it against the stone brain, granite chips flying. As the axe gets beat into uselessness, the brain cracks and fractures and eventually lies inert on the dais.
We press on along the passage and at the end of a long staircase, an odd chamber reveals itself. A number of tall bookcases, a desk and a large tank full of green liquid takes up half the room. We move through the room, but Severance cannot resist opening the lid of the tank, at which point a larger nastier version of the octopus-things erupts and attacks. A massive blow from a claw sends Severance sprawling and we close in to do battle, ending with Ospar climbing on the edge of the tank and leaping onto the creature from behind to stab it to death.
As Severance and Ospar stand watch, Snakeeyes and I collect the books to stuff into his sack and we move up the stairway to a grand chamber. It opens to a height of eighty feet tall and opposite the entry is a tall octagonal column of jet-black stone, glowing with green symbols on one of its faces. A deep pool of placid green liquid stands before the column, bathing the entire chamber in an otherworldly light.
Floating above the pool is the bent humanoid form with the purple rubbery flesh and tentacle face we encountered before. In a watery, gurgling voice it speaks, “You dare enter my sanctum! Fools! I shall finish what Telakin could not. Your weak minds will be a sumptuous feast. Your terror a pleasing garnish!”
Both sides square off and we unleash a torrent of spells as the creature unleashes another mental blast against us. The creature lets fly with lightning bolts, striking Ospar and burning him severely. More of its mind blasts fly as we send our own bolts its way. I cast some spells of maneuver on Snakeeyes and he and Severance begin to leap about the room slashing at the creature as I hammer it with bolts. But it is four on one and a solid strike from Snakeeyes’ katana brings it crashing down even as it tries to swoop out of the way.
Ospar has serious burns and Snakeeyes took a blast that left his left arm numb, and all of us are dazed from the aftereffects of the mind blast but we are still standing and in possession of this complex. As I gather books and scrolls, Ospar peers into the pool and sees thousands of tadpoles. Once again Snakeeyes pulls out a flask of oil and sets fire to the pool, killing the tadpoles.
“What’re ye doin’?” says Severance. “Ye don’t even know what’re those things.”
Ospar says, “That octopus thing was keeping them here. I think it’s safe to destroy anything it kept.”
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Jul 30, 2019 05:59
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- CobiWann
- Oct 21, 2009
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Have fun!
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According to my Mage Storyteller, my Akashic’s Resonance may not be “shirtlessness.”
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Jul 30, 2019 15:16
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- Cooked Auto
- Aug 4, 2007
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According to my Mage Storyteller, my Akashic’s Resonance may not be “shirtlessness.”
It truly is a world of darkness.
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Jul 30, 2019 19:15
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- Yawgmoth
- Sep 10, 2003
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This post is cursed!
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According to my Mage Storyteller, my Akashic’s Resonance may not be “shirtlessness.”
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Jul 30, 2019 19:24
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- Agrikk
- Oct 17, 2003
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Take care with that! We have not fully ascertained its function, and the ticking is accelerating.
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they're right, that's childish and distracting
*scratches out "shirtlessness" on character sheet, writes "tastefully concealed nudity"*
Hold on while I take my jerkin off
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Jul 30, 2019 22:54
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- Tuxedo Catfish
- Mar 17, 2007
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You've got guts! Come to my village, I'll buy you lunch.
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they're right, that's childish and distracting
*scratches out "shirtlessness" on character sheet, writes "tastefully concealed nudity"*
my nimbus is an aura of PG-13-ness that causes objects to rearrange themselves in order to function as relatively unobtrusive censor bars
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Aug 1, 2019 00:57
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- Yawgmoth
- Sep 10, 2003
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This post is cursed!
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my nimbus is an aura of PG-13-ness that causes objects to rearrange themselves in order to function as relatively unobtrusive censor bars
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Aug 1, 2019 01:20
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- Agrikk
- Oct 17, 2003
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Take care with that! We have not fully ascertained its function, and the ticking is accelerating.
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In the Black Hours
quote:
We flee the lair and head back through the sewers to the surface and make our way back to the Red Pearl to heal and clean up. We spend several days at the Pearl to recuperate and then again split up to tend to various demands: Ospar discreetly checks in with Mung, Severance visits with Pike the Lefty at the Department of Sanitation Department, Snakeeyes checks in at the waterfront and I take the books to Allustan at the Great Library for study. We switch inns several times over the next several days as we have become paranoid of another ambush and I worry that all of our movement might be spotted and traced back to our inn.
Ospar brings message from Mung that the Guildmaster Hreimar of Legitimate Businessman’s Club had accepted our tribute to Prather Longarm and interceded on our behalf to Kaflatela the Hound of Death and his Guild for ostensibly breaking the truce at the Red Axe and we would be welcome back there. But for the risk of another Deceiver attack we would be back there now.
Snakeeyes brings word from the docks that a ship from Scavengers Port arrived with a cargo of rough granite slabs from the mountains away north, north past the City of the Eagle Throne and north of the Roccanish Empire.
“Big as doors, apparently,” he says as he packs a bowl of krrf. “Or portals. The Overlord seems asleep at the switch for the Deceivers to be so brazen about this.”
I spend time translating the recovered scrolls with Allustan, for they are written in an old tongue that died out several centuries ago with the Deceivers called Telle-Kure. These books are journals of the mind flayer Zyrxog who apparently was a broker and dealer in rare exotic goods. A ledger details the mind flayer’s recent business transactions with patrons throughout the Free City. The three most recent transactions: the theft of two objects, the Heart of Light and the Ebon Stone, from a bard named Markennon for The Exile, the hiring of Zyrxog by the Exile’s lieutenant, Ilthane to discredit and assassinate us, and the sale of an ancient relic listed as the Apostolic Scrolls by Zyrxog to Loris Raknian, the Director of the gladiatorial arena in Thalos.
“It always leads back to the Exile, but this Loris Raknian fellow is a new player,” says Allustan. “The Apostolic Scrolls seem familiar but I cannot put my finger on it now. I will research this and get back to you.”
I return to our current abode, the Blue Dolphin on Bywater Road, when Severance bursts in.
“I been a-talkin’ wit ol’ Pike at th’ DSD,“ he says. “ ‘Thanks fer th’ gold,’ ‘e says. ‘ ‘twas nothin’ ‘ I says but ‘e was grateful nonetheless. So grateful tha’ ‘e passed on a message from on o’ ‘is boys who heard a t’ing outside the K’baya Club last night.”
One of the street sweepers saw two fellows in black deep in discussion. Street sweepers steer clear of the underworld as a rule but in this case Mackie saw that both of them had a square of strangler silk in their belt. A yellow rumel man and a red rumel man standing outside the K’baya club discussing a hit on the Merchant Mercos, planning on stealing Sarchon’s Crown that was on display in his home this last week two days from now.
“What’s so important about Sarchon’s Crown?” I ask.
“Dunno,” says Severance sitting down on the edge of Snakeyes’ bed. “But since the Stranglers are hot to get it, we otta stop ‘em. Hit ‘em back by keepin’ what they want away from ‘em. So to speak.”
“I like it. I hope Snakeeyes and Ospar go for it. Maybe we can get Chopper and Prather to help as well.”
So two days from now we find ourselves in the palatial home of Mercos the Merchant, having disguised ourselves as groundskeepers on our way in to not tip our hands. Our crew consisted of myself, Severance, Ospar, Snakeeyes, Prather Longarm, Chopper the Black and two additions: Massac Bluedagger, a one-legged, pock-faced Oeridian, deadly with a bow, and Crazy Karwin the Sharper, an utterly uninteresting fellow and sometime partner of Prather in the Maze.
Mercos’ mansion was a two story affair whose art and sundry had the thieves drooling and daydreaming of heists and riches, but we had agreed to protect the home and the crown so that was that. The crown itself was a delicate piece of crystal with a fist-sized sphere of emerald set in the front and was set on a display in a room dedicated solely to this piece. We approached it and Ospar, Chopper, Massac and I found a deep revulsion as we approached the thing and found we could not get within ten feet of the thing without being reduced to helpless piles of nausea.
Curious, I sent a spell of lore-finding at it and my spell was immediately beaten back by an incredible amount of magic and evil stored within, though the crown itself was built with a purity and cleanliness I’ve never felt before. At the same time there was a pulse, like a deep thrumming sound that was felt rather than heard, that staggered me, Severance, Ospar and Massac before radiating out into the night of the city.
"What the hells was that?" cried Massac as he picked himself up gingerly.
"No idea," I said. "I feel like everything we involve ourselves in lately has been slightly above our heads, and this crown is no exception."
We moved the crown into the downstairs galley to give us more room to maneuver without becoming some of us becoming nauseated by the Crown’s presence and took up defensive positions throughout the mansion and waited.
What can I say about the next ten hours? The Exile proves to be a cunning strategist and her assault on the manor is multi-pronged and her successive waves of intruders devious and demanding of respect. We are beset by invisible thieves, feints, and ambushes. We resist attempts to weaken us and draw us away from the Crown. We fight scrying efforts, summoned demons from the deepest depths of the Abyss, a five headed hydra and great leopards. We resist charms and imprisonment spells, are wounded by assassination attempts and a gambit by a shapechanger posing as Mercos to give up the Crown in exchange for his life.
Just before dawn, during what is known as the Thieving Hour, portals open from Shadow Thalos and mercenaries stream in to the mansion, led by The Exile herself clad in black leather and her Ilthane, her dark elf lieutenant. This pitched battle ebbs and flows throughout the house as attackers are driven back from the galley and the crown. Snakeeyes, Ospar and Chopper are battling the Exile outside the Galley as Ilthane attempts to levitate the crown to one of the mercenaries but is shot in the back by Massac Bluedagger and the Crown goes tumbling to the carpet. The Exile stabs Ospar with a discolored blade and he drops, mortally wounded, but before she can press her advantage the dawn bells ring. There is a pause and we see the Exile visibly shiver and she and the bleeding Ilthane stagger though a nearby gateway and flee to Shadow Thalos, abandoning the remaining mercenaries to us. They sue for mercy but receive none.
None of us are unwounded by the time dawn sunlight streams into the galley windows. Severance has a mighty wound across his face. One of my arms hangs limp and tingling from a hit from a mace. Prather and Chopper are bloody and grimacing. But Crazy Korwin is slain by a thrust by Ilthane and Ospar is mortally wounded by the Exile’s blade. Poisoned by the look of the wound.
Prather takes one look at Ospar and makes a warding gesture as I look over the wound. “He’s done for. The wound is purple worm poison. I hope he is right by his gods because he will be with them soon.”
“The hells he will. And yes, he is right by his god.” I place is body on the shattered top of a dining table and cast a levitation spell on the makeshift bier. I make a run for the gate to the mansion with the platform floating behind me and call out, “Make sure the crown is safe and meet me at the Hellbridge as you can.”
I run through the morning streets of the Noble’s Quarter onto Regal Street and down to the dark and foreboding Hellbridge, Temple of Hextor. I sprint through the ungated archway and brush past the berserker guards, though the narthex and into the temple proper. I am sweaty and bloody, burned, bitten and acid-scarred. I call out to the congregation and to the priests for aid.
A tall, gaunt man in black plate armor walks briskly and full of authority to me as I lower the tabletop to the ground and berserkers lower their spear tips at me. All around me the congregation stirs in their pews and murmurs.
“What is the meaning of this? How dare you interrupt our service?” the man says as he readies his mace.
“This is Ospar, chosen of Hextor. He has been struck down in service to him and needs aid.”
“If he has been struck down, it is by Hextor’s will.”
I get to my feet and rub my hands together. “Let us determine what is or isn’t Hextor’s will. Right. Now.” And the high priest raises his mace and the berzerkers start to chant themselves into a frenzy.
And things would have surely gone poorly for me unless the smoke from a censer nearby hadn’t stopped floating upwards and instead began to waft downwards to the ground to wrap Ospar’s body in a skein of smoke.
“By Hextor!” the priest cries. He easily lifts Ospar’s limp body and bears it up to the altar, pushing the deacons aside, knocking over some candles and putting it directly on the table. In moments, there is a soft glow throughout Ospar’s body and just like that he sits up.
The first thing he says is, “By Hextor!”
The second thing he says is “The Daughter is coming.”
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Aug 1, 2019 07:03
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- Agrikk
- Oct 17, 2003
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Take care with that! We have not fully ascertained its function, and the ticking is accelerating.
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Reunion
quote:
I collapse to the floor in exhaustion as Ospar hops from the altar, as graceful as a bird. He bows deeply to the high priest of Hellbridge, straightens and walks straight up to him, holding out his hand. The high priest takes a step back uncertainly, but Ospar grabs his hand in his own, pulls off his gauntlet and presses hand to hand. I feel some kind of energy pass between them that makes the high priest weep softly and the hair on my arms stand up.
Ospar says, “My lord Statinstor. Lord of the Hellbridge. Hextor bids me to tell you that danger is coming to Thalos and battle is nigh. Prepare your temple, though I was not shown for what.”
He then turns to me. “Come Thÿs. We have work to do.” I get up off the floor, mouth agape and follow him out of the Hellbridge into the morning light. Leaving a stunned a speechless congregation and high priest behind us.
We hire a rickshaw to take us back to Merkos’ mansion, Ospar silent and reflective and unwilling to answer my questions. We’ve been gone maybe an hour and we find the group still tending to the wounded and debating what our next move is when a woman on a black warhorse comes galloping through the main gate of the manor and right up into the galley where we are gathered in front of the Crown.
Massac Bluedagger reflexively fires an arrow at the woman, but it is knocked aside by some invisible force. Snakeeyes reacts a bit differently.
“Mother!”
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Aug 2, 2019 01:06
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- Agrikk
- Oct 17, 2003
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Take care with that! We have not fully ascertained its function, and the ticking is accelerating.
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The Cat and the Mouse
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The woman on the horse dismounts gracefully and dramatically, and as Snakeeyes approaches her she throws up a hand and a wave of telekinetic power surges out, knocking him backwards against a wall. I have a flash of recognition even as I ready a spell to attack. This is the woman who rode into town with van Neuman the same day I met Snakeeyes at the Gate so many months ago. It seems like ages past, come to think of it. But this petite Sardi woman, the consort to the Overlord, was Snakeeyes’ mother?
“No, Suruvic,” she laughs an imperious laugh. It isn’t a particularly nice laugh. “Your mother I am not but her skin I wear because it suits me.”
She looks around the room as she sets a metal box down on the grown and opens the lid, revealing silk padding. Snakeeyes’ mother is petite of stature and strong of limb, with the long black tresses and dark eyes of the desert Sardi.
“You,” she says pointing to Severance. “Put the crown in the box and close the lid.”
Severance looks to the Crown and back to her. “Beggin’ yer pardon, ma’am but I’ll do nae such t’ing. That is, until ye sez what yer about. Beggin yer pardon an' all.”
The woman sizes him up and sighs. “What I am about is the Overlord’s business and this Crown belongs to him, though it bears the name of that fool Sarchon. What a mess he has caused. I am in a hurry because I shall soon be under attack by the Mages Guild, and you with me if we delay. I am no Strangler and while we are not on the same side we fight the same foes. I cannot approach the crown just as some of you cannot approach it.”
“And why is it that some of us cannot approach it?” I ask.
She again laughs her unfriendly laugh. “Because you have evil in your heart. Just as I do.”
“Again. Put the Crown in the box or we will all be under attack very soon. The Mages know I am here. When you are able and willing, come to the Keep and have an audience with the Overlord. Show the guards this token and they will let you in. We can talk at length in the safety of Overwatch.” She places a small coin near the box and steps back as Severance brings the Crown over, nausea sweeping over me momentarily as he passes me by. He closes the box and a weight is lifted from my soul. I send a spell of identity at the simple bronze trinket and it's origins are indeed in the Keep of Thalos and it is very, very old.
The lady gathers up the box and mounts her destrier that is still foaming and sweating from the ride here. She gallops through the entrance, out into the courtyard and into the street with the wind in her hair.
“Have we just been robbed by the Deceivers after fighting Deceivers all night?” asks Snakeeyes as he packs a bowl of krrf where he fell. Any further sign of distress at seeing his mother possessed by another is not apparent.
“Perhaps.” Says Prather pragmatically. “But you, Suruvic is it? You apparently have an audience with van Neuman. That might be worth something.” Snakeeyes does not respond to being called by his name.
“’You have an audience?’” says Ospar.
“I’m staying far, far away from that keep. The mouse may know the cat’s name, but he does well to fear the cat nonetheless.”
Severance picks up the token. “I’ll be a-goin’, but I’ll be wantin’ t’ freshen up a pip an’ be at me best.”
We pack up our gear and bid farewell to the Men in Black. Chopper and Massac construct a stretcher for Crazy Korwin’s corpse and the three of them walk out a back door into the alleyway behind the manor and disappear. I grab some fresh fruit out of a nearby bowl and leave a note to Merkos apologizing for the damage caused by a night of battle. And the corpses. I apologize for the corpses. “A regrettable byproduct of the evening’s festivities.” And the crown. I tell him that we protected the crown all night but then lost it but we think it was the Overlord who took it so it should be okay.
We decide to move again, grabbing our things from the Red Pearl and moving into another inn, this time on Hedonist Street called the Glutton and Gore. It was a clean and simple establishment but its proprietor, a Yaghannish man called Dumpy Frignac, ran an impressive larder and an even more impressive wine cellar it turns out.
I write a letter to Allustan in Old Auran explaining where we were, seal it, and send it by courier to the Sage’s Guild. It is my hope that writing the letter in a language that only the Wind Dukes spoke would be safe enough. At least safe enough until we moved again.
We clean up and tend to our wounds, tend to our gear, and wait, but it is the next day before Allustan arrives and comes up the stairs to our third floor rooms. We settle in over a cheese board with honey, fresh fruit, almonds and an excellent Caer Chendl eiswein and we relate our night battling the Exile over Sarchon’s Crown and the Overlord’s Consort.
Allustan is vaguely impressed and seems distracted. “Suruvic? What an interesting name. Desert Sardi origins, right?”
Snakeyes nods over a bowl of krrf and Allustan continues. “Snakeeyes, I think it’s time you tell me more about yourself.”
“No it isn’t, “he says bluntly, and his golden eyes brook no further discussion on the matter.
“Er... Well... okay then. So here’s what I have put together about the Daughter of the Night."
The Daughter of the Night, also called the Daughter of Night and the Night’s Daughter, was imprisoned we think by one of the van Neuman line when the last cabal of Archmages was scattered across the lands several centuries ago. These were mages tracing their bloodlines back to the Blood War between Law and Chaos, when the Wind Dukes battled Miska the Wolf Spider and his tanar’ri armies. The Daughter’s origin remains shrouded in mystery but the Deceivers believe that her presence is somehow required to usher in the Age of Chaos, a time where the very laws of nature are warped and become fluid as the Queen of Chaos asserts her vision of reality upon the multiverse.
The Deceivers have been hunting for any and all relics pertaining to the Age before Ages, the Battle of Pesh and the Blood War. They seek to understand the nature of the Daughter’s imprisonment and how to free her. The cults of the Deceivers are typically small, often consisting of single priests who live double lives as upstanding citizens but recent evidence suggests that the Ebon Triad may have involved some of the smaller but older cults in its schemes and the increase in activity and the blatant presence of the Stranglers within the city indicates a dark purpose driving them, possibly relating to the Age of Chaos.
Tales of the Age of Chaos itself are as old as anything. Often known by other names, like the End Times, the Dark Age and the Eternal Ruin, the coming of the Age of Chaos is prophesied in certain texts like the Book of Vile Darkness, the Necronomicon, he Apostolic Scrolls, and are scrawled on the walls of ancient ruins across the world.
Allustan pours himself another glass of eiswein and pops a slice of peach into his mouth. “I have not seen so many references to it coming together like this. It is fascinating how all of these encounters weave together.”
That the Scrolls have surfaced and that Loris Raknian has acquired them is troubling news indeed. Though we know little about the Scrolls, I do know that they are reputed to have been penned by the Daughter herself and detail the creation of the ulgurstasta, massive undead creatures capable of consuming the living and regurgitating them as undead. The Apostolic Scrolls are said to contain rituals that allow an ulgurstasta to create even more powerful undead, spewing them out at tremendous rate.
“You should use this token to meet with Van Neuman and his consort. I’d like to understand what he knows and take the opportunity to visit with the enigma of a man whose line stretches back thousands of years.”
“I, too, would like to meet with the Overlord,” says Snakeeyes with a grim look on his face. “Though, perhaps for a different reason.”
“But we get ahead of ourselves. Raknian has the ability to create an ulgurstasta and we don’t know what is involved. The first priority must be stopping him and stopping that madness.”
Snakeeyes stands up. “Wait a moment. Since when is this our problem? Since when did we become the heroes of Thalos?” he asks bitterly of no one in particular.
Ospar says, “Hextor did, if you must know. He has ordained me a priest in his Order and has visited onto me this plight to resolve.”
Snakeeyes spits out the window and huffs on his pipe. “Your god, your problem. My mother is enslaved by this consort of the Overlord and that is my concern. My only concern.”
Severance, sitting quietly in the corner looking out over the City stands up. “Suruvic, quit’cher yammer. This city ha’ given ye gold. It ha’ given ye strength. It ha’ built yer character. Now she needs yer help. The lands need yer help. If not ye, if not we lads, then who else?”
Snakeeyes sits down bitterly. The first time I’ve seen his unflappable self, well, flapped.
“Alright. But by the hells I will kill the Overlord and free my mother and not rest until those deeds are done.”
“We sha’ see, me friend. We sha’ see.”
Agrikk fucked around with this message at 06:51 on Aug 5, 2019
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Aug 5, 2019 06:48
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- mbt
- Aug 13, 2012
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Mutant Crawl Classics @ gencon
Me - A Planient (sentient oak tree) with a mutation that turns me into gold
Another player - A shaman whose deity is a technogod computer
We were taken captive by a cult leader. After claiming to be even more powerful prophets, our execution was quickly slated.
The shaman prays to his computer god and crits. The god grants him immense strength in the form of a powerarmor exosuit. I turn into a solid gold rod. The powershaman picks me up and uses me as a bat to tee-ball the cult leaders head off.
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Aug 5, 2019 17:52
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- Preechr
- May 19, 2009
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Proud member of the Pony-Brony Alliance for Obama as President
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Mutant Crawl Classics @ gencon
Me - A Planient (sentient oak tree) with a mutation that turns me into gold
Another player - A shaman whose deity is a technogod computer
We were taken captive by a cult leader. After claiming to be even more powerful prophets, our execution was quickly slated.
The shaman prays to his computer god and crits. The god grants him immense strength in the form of a powerarmor exosuit. I turn into a solid gold rod. The powershaman picks me up and uses me as a bat to tee-ball the cult leaders head off.
Friend Computer provides, citizen.
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Aug 5, 2019 18:46
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- Syenite
- Jun 21, 2011
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Grimey Drawer
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I know this is gonna sound nitpicky, but if people are gonna post wall-of-text play-by-plays of their entire campaigns, could they at least stick them in a pastebin or something? I've been following this thread for a while, and nowadays it seems like it's just an endless stream of play-by-post content with barely any punchy cat-piss experiences, which makes for a dull thread.
Syenite fucked around with this message at 16:33 on Aug 6, 2019
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Aug 6, 2019 16:29
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- BabyFur Denny
- Mar 18, 2003
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I know this is gonna sound nitpicky, but if people are gonna post wall-of-text play-by-plays of their entire campaigns, could they at least stick them in a pastebin or something? I've been following this thread for a while, and nowadays it seems like it's just an endless stream of play-by-post content with barely any punchy cat-piss experiences, which makes for a dull thread.
Yeah that would be very much appreciated. And maybe add a little header of whether your story is good, bad or catpiss, sometimes it's hard to tell
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Aug 6, 2019 17:10
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- Agrikk
- Oct 17, 2003
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Take care with that! We have not fully ascertained its function, and the ticking is accelerating.
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My apologies. I was doing something different, but if the consensus is to sop I'll stop posting mine then. No biggie.
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Aug 6, 2019 18:00
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- Yawgmoth
- Sep 10, 2003
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This post is cursed!
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My apologies. I was doing something different, but if the consensus is to sop I'll stop posting mine then. No biggie.
Yeah that would be very much appreciated. And maybe add a little header of whether your story is good, bad or catpiss, sometimes it's hard to tell
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Aug 6, 2019 18:54
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- Syenite
- Jun 21, 2011
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Grimey Drawer
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I'm not sure if longform campaign retellings and catpiss can even coexist in the same thread without it just becoming a thread for posting webfiction. That kind of content isn't necessarily bad, lots of people like it, but as of now the thread kinda sucks for people who want what the thread title says, because it's all campaign retellings instead of "notable gaming experiences."
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Aug 6, 2019 21:39
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- mbt
- Aug 13, 2012
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It cant ALL be notable
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Aug 6, 2019 21:53
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- Kaza42
- Oct 3, 2013
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Blood and Souls and all that
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Not sure if I've posted this before, but I'll add a Notable Experience
A while back, I ran a Harry Potter campaign over Discord. It was set during Voldemort's first reign of terror, and spanned a 7 year stint at Hogwarts. Since this was during the time of the Defense curse, every year they had a new Defense professor. In between the major events, we'd have plenty of pure RP scenes during classes or doing homework or whatever, and the rotating DADA professor gave some cool characters.
During one year, I introduced a human-type magical beast (think werewolf, where it's basically human so can use a wand and magic) called an Aniphage that eats memories. Specifically your memory of it, anything else you learned or experienced during that time would still be retained you'd just have a blank about it. For various reasons, they had to find an Aniphage and enlist its help. After searching, they discovered that there is one actually at Hogwarts with them and I told them out of character that they should be able to figure it out just from the chat logs so far. I didn't require them to figure it out, once they did the in-game investigation and research tasks I would give them the answer because forced riddled in games suck. So they went through the process, and finished the research and then all asked "Okay, so who is it?". I just replied "Who's the defense professor this year?".
They went back over the logs and sure enough, Dumbledore hadn't introduced a new professor at the start of the year. They'd never had an RP session in DADA class this year, but they still had DADA homework and exams. It was a great moment of player trust leading to a genuinely enjoyable twist. They knew I wasn't trying to screw them over or prove how much smarter I was or any other toxic DM stuff, and so went along with a mystery that had a very satisfying resolution.
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Aug 6, 2019 22:00
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- PurpleXVI
- Oct 30, 2011
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Spewing insults, pissing off all your neighbors, betraying your allies, backing out of treaties and accords, and generally screwing over the global environment?
ALL PART OF MY BRILLIANT STRATEGY!
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You want cat piss? Imagine running an online game which includes a player who drops oblique hints that he's in an assisted-living situation(not because of broke brains or anything, however, but because of some drama in his past) where he's being cruelly mistreated and not allowed any freedoms, sympathizing with him, and then eventually discovering it's because he solicited minors online that he's no longer legally allowed to be near the internet without supervision.
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Aug 6, 2019 22:08
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- Syenite
- Jun 21, 2011
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Grimey Drawer
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You want cat piss? Imagine running an online game which includes a player who drops oblique hints that he's in an assisted-living situation(not because of broke brains or anything, however, but because of some drama in his past) where he's being cruelly mistreated and not allowed any freedoms, sympathizing with him, and then eventually discovering it's because he solicited minors online that he's no longer legally allowed to be near the internet without supervision.
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Aug 6, 2019 22:11
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- Adbot
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ADBOT LOVES YOU
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May 22, 2024 19:12
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- Agrikk
- Oct 17, 2003
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Take care with that! We have not fully ascertained its function, and the ticking is accelerating.
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Is there a campaign logs thread?
I enjoy this thread for its wacky shenanigans and didn’t mean to derail. I thought I’d try a different style and apparently it’s diluting the thread. I’m happy to start a thread dedicated to my narrative and keep this thread to its intended purpose.
So, is there a campaign logs thread or a sub dedicated to logs?
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Aug 6, 2019 22:12
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Jul 22, 2019 21:12
moment of the thing: the secret weapon from the past which the evil wizard discovers, allowing him to begin his conquest of Earth, is Nazi propaganda.
