“Sheep!”
That was going through my mind as I arranged the party in its proper marching order. I just kept thinking, “Sheep!” My companions were actually allowing me to make decisions for the whole group, just as I knew they would when I first began bossing them around so many months ago. I am now the self-appointed leader of this mercenary outfit, but what could be more appropriate. Honestly, I don’t think I would be that interested in appointment by some other authority. I had assumed the role of a leader early in our party’s history, and now, at last, the real fruits of my efforts were beginning to bloom.
Bloom? Blossom? How should I end that phrase? It doesn’t matter. One day I will hire someone to make all my prose perfect. Afterwards I shall ghost the writer well and truly, and all will know of my true literary talents.
This is the future. Of that there can be no doubt.
You don’t understand, do you? You don’t have the background yet. It’s okay, my dear readers, I will accept your apology and take a little time to fill you in on the details. Just enough, I will not be telling every detail of our party history. My time is precious, you know, and in any event, history will soon serve as my herald. Until, then I suppose I shall have to bear with new and inattentive people. Pay attention, though, because I will not be repeating myself.
I am a part of... excuse me, ...I LEAD a party of elite mercenaries. No, we do not actually live together, and truth be told I couldn’t stand to be in the company of these hacks for any longer than absolutely necessary. It is a strange arrangement. Each of us actually travels by strange powers to a new mission every time. Our clients vary, as do the settings from which we come and to which we are taken. Honestly, I have yet to recognize a single name or place, mentioned by my companions or our clients. And I certainly wouldn’t be caught doing anything but killing in the places we have been to.
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[Author’s Interjection: Teth-Anne is one of 3 characters I play in a campaign in which GMing responsibilities are passed from player to player. The assumptions behind the campaign are minimal, the characters are mercenaries hired by supernatural means. Where they came from and how they got here is the player’s own business. If a player does not show up for a game, his characters were not called or chose not to answer the mission. The average level at present is about 9.5, and we are using pretty much any WOtC materials with other supplements approved on consensus of players present for the game. Two of my own characters are relatively standard, and one was a designed using house rules.
BTW: I want to thank the EN-World community for some of the advice I received when I first posted the idea about a year ago. I got a lot of good advice, and the campaign has been very helpful in getting some games started in a sparse gaming community. Some of the advice I received for setting this up has been very helpful.]
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Anyway, so let me tell you about my companions. Really, I think it best to think of them as “assistants.” “Tools” would be the most literally apt word to describe them, but I have no wish to be unduly blunt, really, so we will settle on “assistants.” Quite a few have come and gone, by the way, but we are presently about 15 strong, when our full compliment shows up for a mission. At any rate, this is what I have to work with:
There is Lana, a Rogue, and I believe a bit of a Ranger. She is competent, at least when it comes to killing (always an important ability). Her abilities to search out and track down a quarry are unfortunately quite lacking, and we have yet to even try her hand at diplomatic matters. I shudder to think at the day that we may need to rely for our fortune on this woman’s tongue.
And of course, there is Rosch. Rosch is a Warlock, which is a new sort of utility. This one tends to break, unfortunately, at least that’s what he did this last time. Repair work aside, I must say that his abilities come with my highest recommendation. Every party should have one of these around. Not much for killing the big stuff, but they can be used to zap little things away all day. Perfect for a hobbit hunt or comparable mission.
I am forgetting someone, but I’m sure it is of no consequence.
There are, and I shudder to repeat their names. I am told that in some world, their names are a sort of humorous reference, but frankly, I think some parents ought to be hung from their genitals and scrubbed with cactus. There are Chuck (Norris), Hulk (Hogan), and Paul. These miserable creatures are all quite new, and they have yet to distinguish themselves in any respect except for the silliness of their names. ...and perhaps a little bit of gassyness in the case of the Hulky guy. We will have to outfit them better, I think, as they didn’t come with much. The Rogue, Paul, I believe might be useful. I am told he did some interesting things while I was catching up on my beauty sleep. Chuck is of course a Monk, which means he might someday be useful and Hulk is of course a Meat Shield. Whether or not he would be worthy of a Cure Critical Wounds, much less a Raise Dead remains to be seen.
Zardwe is my pride and joy. He really is a most valuable little device, and it is to his credit that I learned the value and the beauty of a fireball spell. He was the first of my assistants to learn the skill, and for that I am most grateful. As I recall, he is capable of some other uses, but I forget them at the moment. Just think of Zardwe as the companion that goes boom. That really is quite enough.
Okay, now let’s all just take a moment to pause and think about the wonders of a fireball spell. ...sizzling flesh, I really am giggling a bit here. Sometimes you just have to enjoy the moment. Because THAT my friends is what life is all about, you know, the little things. Sizzling, little things, especially.
Anyway, back to the heart of the matter, okay...
Now, there is also Dead Horse, a rather odd looking warrior, He wields a club that looks a bit like the stock of a crossbow and he also carries a dagger. He wears a pathetic bit of armor made from the bones of some glorified cow he keeps talking about. We tried giving him chain mail, but he would have none of it. Anyway, ever since about 4 months ago, Dead Horse has walked backwards virtually everywhere he goes, and he always says the opposite of what he means. He complains of the heat when we are trudging through snow and whines about the cold when we are standing in the middle of the desert. It’s absolutely absurd, I tell you. What this idiot does, I couldn’t tell you. He is just too weird, and I can’t be bothered to think about it right now. Yuck, I’m moving on, okay!
So, then there is Gut Noir, a big hulking Goliath woman. She has a heart of gold, I suppose, or at least I am told, but frankly, that is just the ugliest woman I have ever laid eyes on. She would be writing this journal, except she’s an illiterate fool who came to us from some tribe the full lot of which might barely hope one day be worth the spit necessary to shine a boot. I mean, the girl carries an axe! ...Can you imagine?
Okay, so then there is this other guy, his name is Maddox, and he is a Cleric. The others refer to him as our “real” Cleric, but that is a great disrespect to yours truly. Honestly, Maddox does have his uses, not the least of them being his penchant for healing even the most useless of our party members. I rather like having him around, because it means I can devote myself to more fun stuff, such as Deathknell and whatnot. Anyway, he has his uses.
Then there is Kung Too, a Lizardman with some kind of funky dragon thing going. I understand he likes water. Perhaps, one day he’ll drown. Or was it, that he can’t drown. Anyway, he has scales. I mean nothing says front line fodder like scales. I can only hope he dies usefully, because we have actually been giving a share of our treasures to the oversized gecko.
UGH! I must say, my dear readers, that this is getting to be very depressing. I hadn’t realized just how pathetic my bunch of future minions really is. It might not even be worth the effort it takes to dominate them.
Okay, so there is Saul. He is a fighter, and he is a VERY theatrical fighter. the man is always striking a pose, right in the middle of battle, I tell you. Oh he calls them “stances,” and “flourishes.” But hey, I don’t see any need to mince words. If the boy likes to dance, he likes to dance. Sometimes, I think his timing is a little off, but as long as he kills his share of the enemy, it isn’t really any of my business what side of the toast he butters, now is it. ...You should see him in battle though, honestly, it’s almost cute.
Okay, Recarb. Big Ogre guy and he carries an axe. Things tend to die when they get close to him. Now THIS is what I call a companion. Well, at least he is very useful. I only wish the rest of my assistants would learn from his example. Note to self, get more big axe wielding Ogre guys. They’re cool.
We have a Wizard, his name is Limara. Or is that her name? ...Well, it’s not for me to comment on how someone else dresses, really.
And of course my dear and beloved readers, there is me. Now I can’t tell you everything there is to know about me, and please do try to restrain yourselves. I do NOT need a stalker, really, I don’t. So, at any rate, I am a daughter of Celestial origin. We’re sometimes called Asimars. Love, Kindness, and Goodness - that’s what created me folks. ...Nice of them isn’t it.
Anyway, I am now a devoted servant of Hextor and a practitioner of Sorcery. In recent times, I have taken up the special craft of the Mystic Theurge. I am presently able to cast Fireball and when necessary I can Fix Serious Damage to those that serve my interests. Some would say that I am not very strong, but of course they are looking at my beautiful aristocratic body and not the aforementioned Ogre who counts as my true strength. I have indeed been known to stumble from time to time and I am not very fast when I move, but then again, we have monks and clerics, and elves for that sort of thing. To say that I am beautiful is hardly necessary, and that my dear reader is truly my own character. Whatever else I lack in personal skills, I own in the assistance of those worthy enough to bask in my presence.
Well that’s it for now. I shall come back to the matter of our last mission soon, the one that Zardwe almost botched! For now, my little ones, you mistress of the pen grows tired. You shall have to do with out me for a little bit. Fear not, I shall grace you again with my presence just as soon as it pleases me.
Oh, and, as you read this document, please understand, my spelling and grammar are both perfect. Any flaws which you may think you see in these areas, or in my writing style, must in fact be viewed as clear and convincing evidence that your own schooling is woefully incomplete. I don’t mind, really, but please keep any notions you may have on the matter to yourself and don’t trouble me with them. I am NOT your tutor! Praise is of course aceptable.
That was going through my mind as I arranged the party in its proper marching order. I just kept thinking, “Sheep!” My companions were actually allowing me to make decisions for the whole group, just as I knew they would when I first began bossing them around so many months ago. I am now the self-appointed leader of this mercenary outfit, but what could be more appropriate. Honestly, I don’t think I would be that interested in appointment by some other authority. I had assumed the role of a leader early in our party’s history, and now, at last, the real fruits of my efforts were beginning to bloom.
Bloom? Blossom? How should I end that phrase? It doesn’t matter. One day I will hire someone to make all my prose perfect. Afterwards I shall ghost the writer well and truly, and all will know of my true literary talents.
This is the future. Of that there can be no doubt.
You don’t understand, do you? You don’t have the background yet. It’s okay, my dear readers, I will accept your apology and take a little time to fill you in on the details. Just enough, I will not be telling every detail of our party history. My time is precious, you know, and in any event, history will soon serve as my herald. Until, then I suppose I shall have to bear with new and inattentive people. Pay attention, though, because I will not be repeating myself.
I am a part of... excuse me, ...I LEAD a party of elite mercenaries. No, we do not actually live together, and truth be told I couldn’t stand to be in the company of these hacks for any longer than absolutely necessary. It is a strange arrangement. Each of us actually travels by strange powers to a new mission every time. Our clients vary, as do the settings from which we come and to which we are taken. Honestly, I have yet to recognize a single name or place, mentioned by my companions or our clients. And I certainly wouldn’t be caught doing anything but killing in the places we have been to.
************************************************************************
[Author’s Interjection: Teth-Anne is one of 3 characters I play in a campaign in which GMing responsibilities are passed from player to player. The assumptions behind the campaign are minimal, the characters are mercenaries hired by supernatural means. Where they came from and how they got here is the player’s own business. If a player does not show up for a game, his characters were not called or chose not to answer the mission. The average level at present is about 9.5, and we are using pretty much any WOtC materials with other supplements approved on consensus of players present for the game. Two of my own characters are relatively standard, and one was a designed using house rules.
BTW: I want to thank the EN-World community for some of the advice I received when I first posted the idea about a year ago. I got a lot of good advice, and the campaign has been very helpful in getting some games started in a sparse gaming community. Some of the advice I received for setting this up has been very helpful.]
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Anyway, so let me tell you about my companions. Really, I think it best to think of them as “assistants.” “Tools” would be the most literally apt word to describe them, but I have no wish to be unduly blunt, really, so we will settle on “assistants.” Quite a few have come and gone, by the way, but we are presently about 15 strong, when our full compliment shows up for a mission. At any rate, this is what I have to work with:
There is Lana, a Rogue, and I believe a bit of a Ranger. She is competent, at least when it comes to killing (always an important ability). Her abilities to search out and track down a quarry are unfortunately quite lacking, and we have yet to even try her hand at diplomatic matters. I shudder to think at the day that we may need to rely for our fortune on this woman’s tongue.
And of course, there is Rosch. Rosch is a Warlock, which is a new sort of utility. This one tends to break, unfortunately, at least that’s what he did this last time. Repair work aside, I must say that his abilities come with my highest recommendation. Every party should have one of these around. Not much for killing the big stuff, but they can be used to zap little things away all day. Perfect for a hobbit hunt or comparable mission.
I am forgetting someone, but I’m sure it is of no consequence.
There are, and I shudder to repeat their names. I am told that in some world, their names are a sort of humorous reference, but frankly, I think some parents ought to be hung from their genitals and scrubbed with cactus. There are Chuck (Norris), Hulk (Hogan), and Paul. These miserable creatures are all quite new, and they have yet to distinguish themselves in any respect except for the silliness of their names. ...and perhaps a little bit of gassyness in the case of the Hulky guy. We will have to outfit them better, I think, as they didn’t come with much. The Rogue, Paul, I believe might be useful. I am told he did some interesting things while I was catching up on my beauty sleep. Chuck is of course a Monk, which means he might someday be useful and Hulk is of course a Meat Shield. Whether or not he would be worthy of a Cure Critical Wounds, much less a Raise Dead remains to be seen.
Zardwe is my pride and joy. He really is a most valuable little device, and it is to his credit that I learned the value and the beauty of a fireball spell. He was the first of my assistants to learn the skill, and for that I am most grateful. As I recall, he is capable of some other uses, but I forget them at the moment. Just think of Zardwe as the companion that goes boom. That really is quite enough.
Okay, now let’s all just take a moment to pause and think about the wonders of a fireball spell. ...sizzling flesh, I really am giggling a bit here. Sometimes you just have to enjoy the moment. Because THAT my friends is what life is all about, you know, the little things. Sizzling, little things, especially.
Anyway, back to the heart of the matter, okay...
Now, there is also Dead Horse, a rather odd looking warrior, He wields a club that looks a bit like the stock of a crossbow and he also carries a dagger. He wears a pathetic bit of armor made from the bones of some glorified cow he keeps talking about. We tried giving him chain mail, but he would have none of it. Anyway, ever since about 4 months ago, Dead Horse has walked backwards virtually everywhere he goes, and he always says the opposite of what he means. He complains of the heat when we are trudging through snow and whines about the cold when we are standing in the middle of the desert. It’s absolutely absurd, I tell you. What this idiot does, I couldn’t tell you. He is just too weird, and I can’t be bothered to think about it right now. Yuck, I’m moving on, okay!
So, then there is Gut Noir, a big hulking Goliath woman. She has a heart of gold, I suppose, or at least I am told, but frankly, that is just the ugliest woman I have ever laid eyes on. She would be writing this journal, except she’s an illiterate fool who came to us from some tribe the full lot of which might barely hope one day be worth the spit necessary to shine a boot. I mean, the girl carries an axe! ...Can you imagine?
Okay, so then there is this other guy, his name is Maddox, and he is a Cleric. The others refer to him as our “real” Cleric, but that is a great disrespect to yours truly. Honestly, Maddox does have his uses, not the least of them being his penchant for healing even the most useless of our party members. I rather like having him around, because it means I can devote myself to more fun stuff, such as Deathknell and whatnot. Anyway, he has his uses.
Then there is Kung Too, a Lizardman with some kind of funky dragon thing going. I understand he likes water. Perhaps, one day he’ll drown. Or was it, that he can’t drown. Anyway, he has scales. I mean nothing says front line fodder like scales. I can only hope he dies usefully, because we have actually been giving a share of our treasures to the oversized gecko.
UGH! I must say, my dear readers, that this is getting to be very depressing. I hadn’t realized just how pathetic my bunch of future minions really is. It might not even be worth the effort it takes to dominate them.
Okay, so there is Saul. He is a fighter, and he is a VERY theatrical fighter. the man is always striking a pose, right in the middle of battle, I tell you. Oh he calls them “stances,” and “flourishes.” But hey, I don’t see any need to mince words. If the boy likes to dance, he likes to dance. Sometimes, I think his timing is a little off, but as long as he kills his share of the enemy, it isn’t really any of my business what side of the toast he butters, now is it. ...You should see him in battle though, honestly, it’s almost cute.
Okay, Recarb. Big Ogre guy and he carries an axe. Things tend to die when they get close to him. Now THIS is what I call a companion. Well, at least he is very useful. I only wish the rest of my assistants would learn from his example. Note to self, get more big axe wielding Ogre guys. They’re cool.
We have a Wizard, his name is Limara. Or is that her name? ...Well, it’s not for me to comment on how someone else dresses, really.
And of course my dear and beloved readers, there is me. Now I can’t tell you everything there is to know about me, and please do try to restrain yourselves. I do NOT need a stalker, really, I don’t. So, at any rate, I am a daughter of Celestial origin. We’re sometimes called Asimars. Love, Kindness, and Goodness - that’s what created me folks. ...Nice of them isn’t it.
Anyway, I am now a devoted servant of Hextor and a practitioner of Sorcery. In recent times, I have taken up the special craft of the Mystic Theurge. I am presently able to cast Fireball and when necessary I can Fix Serious Damage to those that serve my interests. Some would say that I am not very strong, but of course they are looking at my beautiful aristocratic body and not the aforementioned Ogre who counts as my true strength. I have indeed been known to stumble from time to time and I am not very fast when I move, but then again, we have monks and clerics, and elves for that sort of thing. To say that I am beautiful is hardly necessary, and that my dear reader is truly my own character. Whatever else I lack in personal skills, I own in the assistance of those worthy enough to bask in my presence.
Well that’s it for now. I shall come back to the matter of our last mission soon, the one that Zardwe almost botched! For now, my little ones, you mistress of the pen grows tired. You shall have to do with out me for a little bit. Fear not, I shall grace you again with my presence just as soon as it pleases me.
Oh, and, as you read this document, please understand, my spelling and grammar are both perfect. Any flaws which you may think you see in these areas, or in my writing style, must in fact be viewed as clear and convincing evidence that your own schooling is woefully incomplete. I don’t mind, really, but please keep any notions you may have on the matter to yourself and don’t trouble me with them. I am NOT your tutor! Praise is of course aceptable.
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