Iron Chef BBQ
First Post
Blackjack said:
How about Russel Crowe. Not really handsome, but somehow compelling.
http://www.imdb.com/gallery/ss/0172495/8?path=gallery&path_key=0172495
Piratecat's Updated Story Hour! (update 4/03 and 4/06)
- Status
How about Russel Crowe. Not really handsome, but somehow compelling.
http://www.imdb.com/gallery/ss/0172495/8?path=gallery&path_key=0172495
WizarDru
Adventurer
New, this fall on NBC MUST-SEE TV:Wolfspirit said:
Everybody Loves Priggle: It's pure hilarity when Deep Gnome Priggle moves to Eversink in his new job as groundskeeper for Eversink's former prison! Suffering for a curse he received in the Underdark, Priggle has to keep a positive attitude, whether he likes it or not! To make matters worse, his new boss, the Trilith, has it in for him! Join him and his roommates Tom-Tom and Agar as they try to deal with short life in the Big, Swampy City.
Aeos Theory: He's an uncompromising paladin who loves the color green. She's a sexy ghost-cum-cleric who had to die to see the light. Together, THEY FIGHT CRIME!
Bard in the City: Nolin looooves the ladies. But when his even-more amorous father moves in to his favorite Inn, can he keep his sanity? Featuring a new special guest-star every week portraying one of Nolin's half-siblings.
Ghostwood: It was a quiet frontier town, until the day the mysterious stranger wandered into town, talking about ghosts. When newcomer Stone Bear discovers that the town is besieged by vengeful spirits, only the town's drunken priest, Velendo, will listen. Can they save the town from the hordes of angry undead, when no one believes them?
Mounts: A reality show filmed live and on location with the Paladins of Aeos. See what giant lizards, war horses and other animals do, while their adventuring masters go off in search of glory. Hosted by Mara.
(OK. I'll stop now....
)Wolfspirit
First Post
Hehe, since I started this, a few more:
The Paladinette: Mara is a servant of Aeos who can turn heads better than she can Turn Undead, yet aside from an alternate reality love triangle with Nolin, is lacking in the romance department. Will the suitors of this lovely Lady come to blows as they try to compete to be the one to win her affections?
Master and Galthia: After confusion about finding “Master” in Sigil results in Galthia being stuck without a mentor, place to stay, or a return ticket home, the unlikely roommate pair of an elder brain and a githzerai attempt to coexist without killing or mentally dominating the other. Will they learn to look beyond their differences? Or will there be a Battle Royale? Episode 1: When Master gets slime all over the furniture and refuses to clean it up.
CSI: Eversink: In the wake of the fall of Imbindarla, the people of Eversink must turn away from Divinations and do investigation the hard way. Palladio leads a varied team of humanoids including a hyperactive-schizophrenic-kobold, a drow ex- exotic dancer, and a gnome with bad hair, who all use their varied pasts to help solve mysteries.
I Dream of Cthulhu: Agar’s bride-to-be turns out to actually be the Elder God Cthulhu. Thinking this is actually a pretty decent turn of events, Agar settles down to have a family, never knowing that he’s probably going to be eaten when his usefulness is through.
The Paladinette: Mara is a servant of Aeos who can turn heads better than she can Turn Undead, yet aside from an alternate reality love triangle with Nolin, is lacking in the romance department. Will the suitors of this lovely Lady come to blows as they try to compete to be the one to win her affections?
Master and Galthia: After confusion about finding “Master” in Sigil results in Galthia being stuck without a mentor, place to stay, or a return ticket home, the unlikely roommate pair of an elder brain and a githzerai attempt to coexist without killing or mentally dominating the other. Will they learn to look beyond their differences? Or will there be a Battle Royale? Episode 1: When Master gets slime all over the furniture and refuses to clean it up.
CSI: Eversink: In the wake of the fall of Imbindarla, the people of Eversink must turn away from Divinations and do investigation the hard way. Palladio leads a varied team of humanoids including a hyperactive-schizophrenic-kobold, a drow ex- exotic dancer, and a gnome with bad hair, who all use their varied pasts to help solve mysteries.
I Dream of Cthulhu: Agar’s bride-to-be turns out to actually be the Elder God Cthulhu. Thinking this is actually a pretty decent turn of events, Agar settles down to have a family, never knowing that he’s probably going to be eaten when his usefulness is through.
Piratecat
Sesquipedalian
And it's about time. Expect two updates next week, as we get to the exciting stuff!
----------------------------------
Interlude
A portion of the group sits around a flat boulder, looking at a hastily sketched map of Nacreous. Spirits swirl around them as they hunch over the stone. Within the shadow of a nearby boulder, Stone Bear sleeps restlessly as he recovers from the strain of channelling the spirits. The Ivory King himself had casually bitten off the shaman's head, and when he did the entire group had been flung out of their borrowed undead forms and tumbled roughshod back to their own bodies. Stone Bear had shielded the others by bearing the brunt of the mental and physical strain that accompanied their unplanned return.
“So, the city of Nacreous sits between the raised cliff edge and the back walls of the cavern,” Velendo slices his finger through the air over the map, “and there’s just empty cavern for an unknown distance once you go over the big drop. We could come into the cavern from that far end and sneak along the base of the cliffs. I think we have divination spells that could lead us there.”
Malachite rubs his chin. “It’s certainly a better tactical plan than going through those huge gates, if what you said about them is correct. He killed Halcyon, and now we have to kill him. I want every possible advantage on our side.”
“Here’s a question,” pipes up Nolin. “Did anyone get a feel for where the negative energy was coming from? We were feeling small negative energy pulses, and they got much worse once Imbindarla’s body arrived. Boy, if we could find the source of that, that would be a big help.” The bard looks around at the group hopefully, but no one’s face lights up. Nolin shrugs.
“Now it’s probably coming from the body itself,” says Priggle gloomily.
“It was worth considering.”
Agar scratches at the spot on his scalp where Proty is currently pulsing. “We had a prophecy from the earth spirit Silissa on how to destroy them, I think. What was it?” He looks at Nolin.
The bard shrugs again and grins easily. “I hate prophecy when it comes to us.”
Velendo gives him a dirty look and hauls out his own sheath of notes, stifling any comment he may have about what real bards think of prophecies. He reads in a tired voice. “The White Kingdom is ruled by the unborn son of the Goddess Imbindarla, She who was once to be Goddess of Night, but failed. He is called Gl’Yuut, and was carved unborn from her earthly womb by members of the Brotherhood of Night.”
“What kind of name is that?” asks Nolin wonderingly.
“Maybe he’s a relation to Yuute, the herald of Yorrine who we had to deal with in Eversink. He’s dead now, though; Halcyon killed him.” Velendo clears his throat and continues. “He rules the Kingdom of the Ghouls, and the children he has created spread forth throughout the sunless caverns to slay and devour and conquer all they find. If he is destroyed along with his closest cadre, and the entrance to the cyst sealed, the spark that drives the ghouls shall fade as well.”
Mara looks around. “Did anyone see anything while we were there that might be a cyst?”
“The whole cavern?” wonders Galthia.
“I don’t think so,” muses Velendo. “It has a lot of entrances.”
“I think it’s the womb from which the Ivory King emerged.” Nolin looks confident, a strong counterpoint to Velendo’s doubtfilled face.
“The cyst could also be an unnatural growth,” chimes in Agar helpfully. “We can try find the path.”
“That could be. I say we kill the Ivory King first, and then look for the cyst.” He swallows drily. “Let’s finish. They worship he and his mother, although only one of them is worthy of worship. The two share no loyalty; slay one, and they shall fall and be devoured, with all that might entail.” He blinks. “Well, one has been slain.”
“Yes,” responds Galthia, “but we didn’t do it.”
“And fell, and is about to be devoured, with all that entails.” Agar frowns in frustration.
“So we had better stop that part,” says Mara cheerily.
“What do we want to do about surviving in there?” asks Agar. Malachite looks at him questioningly.
“We have two major environmental hazards,” explains Velendo. “All of Nacreous is bathed in negative energy, and it got a lot worse when Imbindarla arrived. The other problem is that the air is not breathable.”
“Ohhhhhh,” says Nolin wonderingly, his eyes lighting up with inspiration.
Everyone turns to him. “You have an idea?” asks Velendo hopefully. “Tell us!”
Nolin smiles with the dazzling joy of a person who has just had a brilliant epiphany. His eyes are far away, seeing a future occurrence that is perhaps worthy of an epic ballad. “I have my ring. Let’s make the Ivory King poop himself!”
Silence. Everyone’s eyes widen as they consider the possibilities.
“Wow,” sighs Agar over Nolin’s laughter. “Wow.”
Malachite scowls. “The mission I have been on for a year and a half is going to come down to bathroom humor.” He sounds disgusted, but his face keeps trying to twitch into a smile.
Velendo shakes his head. “It probably won’t work on undead, but if all else fails, do it.”
Nolin grins. “It’s the law of dramatic necessity. It’ll work. Besides, he probably eats a whole lot, and I doubt he gets enough fiber; I’ve got to think he’ll need it.”
Agar looks thoughtful. “Do people count as fiber?”
“Focus!” yells Velendo.
The group settles down and goes on to discuss and plan specific counters to the environmental hazards facing them, a spell named filter (“I just met her!” crows Nolin) and one of Agar’s planar spells that might work to protect them. They discuss intricate backup plans, including heroes’ feast and miracles and limited wishes. The discussion goes late into the night. Finally, Malachite leans back.
“I wasn’t with you, and I don’t remember enough of the lore. We know that the Ivory King is unborn, but is he undead?”
“Well,” muses Mara without sarcasm, “he’s about ten feet around and covered with gross flesh ripples. He certainly looked undead.”
“Okay, good. In as much as it is possible, it’s a good idea for me to kill him.” The group choruses agreement. “If that means not taking the final shot or even healing him somehow so that I can get to him, do it.”
“If Malachite can’t be the one who delivers the death blow,” jokes Nolin, “we’ll have Agar cast Tenser’s Floating Disk and we’ll load the body on so it follows us around. If the King revives and sits back up, we’ll have him handy for killing again.” The nervous laughter which follows the joke is an indication of how worried everyone is.
“Before we go tomorrow, we should make sure that the others know what our last wishes are.” Velendo carefully sits his tired bones down on a boulder. “If we’re finished I think I’ll stay in heaven. You can always contact my spirit and make sure, though. The question is, what do we do about Saint Morak?”
Stone Bear shudders as the spirit speaks through him. “Well,” he says in a quavering voice, “I feel like I must do my part tomorrow. And you do have the most amazing shield.” Even with no eyeballs, it’s clear that Morak is eyeing Velendo’s shield laciviously.
“Err… yes, your holiness. So?” Morak reaches out to touch the shield with Stone Bear's hand, and Velendo is knocked backwards off his rock by a burst of silent light. Holding his shield, he suddenly feels all of Morak’s wisdom seeping upwards into him and combining with his own in a tiny voice that provides divine guidance. Hidden mysteries suddenly become clear, and Velendo can feel his will noticeably strengthened. He gasps and stares at the front of the shield; along the border border there is a small, engraved image of Saint Morak moving about.
“He’s in my shield! I have a Saint in my shield!” The old cleric sounds incredulous.
“Now you know what it’s like for us traveling with you,” grumbles Priggle. “It wouldn’t be a gnomish saint. Oh, no, they’re not good enough. Even if there were any.” He clears his throat. “I’ll stay dead. I don’t have much to live for.”
Mara turns to him. “Priggle, of course you do!” The deep gnome looks slightly mollified.
Mara turns. “I do want to come back. Nolin, you don’t want to be resurrected, right?”
“Right. I’ll be with Rides The Sun, and I expect to be having too much fun in the afterlife.”
“Hmmph.” Agar looks at him. “We’d miss you, and you’d miss us. I’ll come back! Heck, I already did once. ” He looks around at Stone Bear. “Hey Claris, do you want to come back to life?” Stone Bear’s head twists unnaturally as Claris speaks through his mouth.
“I do. I have my daughter to care for. If I pass beyond, Nolin will have to make arrangements for her.”
“Fair enough,” sighs Velendo. “I’ll be pleased to true resurrect you once we’re done here.”
“Thank you. I may be able to repay you by helping tomorrow.” Claris explains her plan, and the group goes around and recounts each of their last wishes. Finally, it’s clear that it’s becoming late.
“We have three or four hours of fast windwalking ahead of us tomorrow,” considers Galthia. “We should sleep.”
“Is it safe?”
Velendo looks around. “We have Saint Morak with us. I think it’s safe.”
They sleep soundly and safely in the holy cavern. In the morning, they awake to find that the cavern has silently transformed around them into a fortified stone temple. Altars to Calphas and Aeos stand at either end, and from what looks like a skylight in the ceiling sunshine – real sunshine – shines in.
“We’ve been blessed,” mouths Velendo.
And in his shadow, the guardian angel Cruciel smiles to herself. It’s been a busy night and her arms are tired, but it’s definitely been worth the effort.
To be continued… the assault on Nacreous!
----------------------------------
Interlude
A portion of the group sits around a flat boulder, looking at a hastily sketched map of Nacreous. Spirits swirl around them as they hunch over the stone. Within the shadow of a nearby boulder, Stone Bear sleeps restlessly as he recovers from the strain of channelling the spirits. The Ivory King himself had casually bitten off the shaman's head, and when he did the entire group had been flung out of their borrowed undead forms and tumbled roughshod back to their own bodies. Stone Bear had shielded the others by bearing the brunt of the mental and physical strain that accompanied their unplanned return.
“So, the city of Nacreous sits between the raised cliff edge and the back walls of the cavern,” Velendo slices his finger through the air over the map, “and there’s just empty cavern for an unknown distance once you go over the big drop. We could come into the cavern from that far end and sneak along the base of the cliffs. I think we have divination spells that could lead us there.”
Malachite rubs his chin. “It’s certainly a better tactical plan than going through those huge gates, if what you said about them is correct. He killed Halcyon, and now we have to kill him. I want every possible advantage on our side.”
“Here’s a question,” pipes up Nolin. “Did anyone get a feel for where the negative energy was coming from? We were feeling small negative energy pulses, and they got much worse once Imbindarla’s body arrived. Boy, if we could find the source of that, that would be a big help.” The bard looks around at the group hopefully, but no one’s face lights up. Nolin shrugs.
“Now it’s probably coming from the body itself,” says Priggle gloomily.
“It was worth considering.”
Agar scratches at the spot on his scalp where Proty is currently pulsing. “We had a prophecy from the earth spirit Silissa on how to destroy them, I think. What was it?” He looks at Nolin.
The bard shrugs again and grins easily. “I hate prophecy when it comes to us.”
Velendo gives him a dirty look and hauls out his own sheath of notes, stifling any comment he may have about what real bards think of prophecies. He reads in a tired voice. “The White Kingdom is ruled by the unborn son of the Goddess Imbindarla, She who was once to be Goddess of Night, but failed. He is called Gl’Yuut, and was carved unborn from her earthly womb by members of the Brotherhood of Night.”
“What kind of name is that?” asks Nolin wonderingly.
“Maybe he’s a relation to Yuute, the herald of Yorrine who we had to deal with in Eversink. He’s dead now, though; Halcyon killed him.” Velendo clears his throat and continues. “He rules the Kingdom of the Ghouls, and the children he has created spread forth throughout the sunless caverns to slay and devour and conquer all they find. If he is destroyed along with his closest cadre, and the entrance to the cyst sealed, the spark that drives the ghouls shall fade as well.”
Mara looks around. “Did anyone see anything while we were there that might be a cyst?”
“The whole cavern?” wonders Galthia.
“I don’t think so,” muses Velendo. “It has a lot of entrances.”
“I think it’s the womb from which the Ivory King emerged.” Nolin looks confident, a strong counterpoint to Velendo’s doubtfilled face.
“The cyst could also be an unnatural growth,” chimes in Agar helpfully. “We can try find the path.”
“That could be. I say we kill the Ivory King first, and then look for the cyst.” He swallows drily. “Let’s finish. They worship he and his mother, although only one of them is worthy of worship. The two share no loyalty; slay one, and they shall fall and be devoured, with all that might entail.” He blinks. “Well, one has been slain.”
“Yes,” responds Galthia, “but we didn’t do it.”
“And fell, and is about to be devoured, with all that entails.” Agar frowns in frustration.
“So we had better stop that part,” says Mara cheerily.
“What do we want to do about surviving in there?” asks Agar. Malachite looks at him questioningly.
“We have two major environmental hazards,” explains Velendo. “All of Nacreous is bathed in negative energy, and it got a lot worse when Imbindarla arrived. The other problem is that the air is not breathable.”
“Ohhhhhh,” says Nolin wonderingly, his eyes lighting up with inspiration.
Everyone turns to him. “You have an idea?” asks Velendo hopefully. “Tell us!”
Nolin smiles with the dazzling joy of a person who has just had a brilliant epiphany. His eyes are far away, seeing a future occurrence that is perhaps worthy of an epic ballad. “I have my ring. Let’s make the Ivory King poop himself!”
Silence. Everyone’s eyes widen as they consider the possibilities.
“Wow,” sighs Agar over Nolin’s laughter. “Wow.”
Malachite scowls. “The mission I have been on for a year and a half is going to come down to bathroom humor.” He sounds disgusted, but his face keeps trying to twitch into a smile.
Velendo shakes his head. “It probably won’t work on undead, but if all else fails, do it.”
Nolin grins. “It’s the law of dramatic necessity. It’ll work. Besides, he probably eats a whole lot, and I doubt he gets enough fiber; I’ve got to think he’ll need it.”
Agar looks thoughtful. “Do people count as fiber?”
“Focus!” yells Velendo.
The group settles down and goes on to discuss and plan specific counters to the environmental hazards facing them, a spell named filter (“I just met her!” crows Nolin) and one of Agar’s planar spells that might work to protect them. They discuss intricate backup plans, including heroes’ feast and miracles and limited wishes. The discussion goes late into the night. Finally, Malachite leans back.
“I wasn’t with you, and I don’t remember enough of the lore. We know that the Ivory King is unborn, but is he undead?”
“Well,” muses Mara without sarcasm, “he’s about ten feet around and covered with gross flesh ripples. He certainly looked undead.”
“Okay, good. In as much as it is possible, it’s a good idea for me to kill him.” The group choruses agreement. “If that means not taking the final shot or even healing him somehow so that I can get to him, do it.”
“If Malachite can’t be the one who delivers the death blow,” jokes Nolin, “we’ll have Agar cast Tenser’s Floating Disk and we’ll load the body on so it follows us around. If the King revives and sits back up, we’ll have him handy for killing again.” The nervous laughter which follows the joke is an indication of how worried everyone is.
“Before we go tomorrow, we should make sure that the others know what our last wishes are.” Velendo carefully sits his tired bones down on a boulder. “If we’re finished I think I’ll stay in heaven. You can always contact my spirit and make sure, though. The question is, what do we do about Saint Morak?”
Stone Bear shudders as the spirit speaks through him. “Well,” he says in a quavering voice, “I feel like I must do my part tomorrow. And you do have the most amazing shield.” Even with no eyeballs, it’s clear that Morak is eyeing Velendo’s shield laciviously.
“Err… yes, your holiness. So?” Morak reaches out to touch the shield with Stone Bear's hand, and Velendo is knocked backwards off his rock by a burst of silent light. Holding his shield, he suddenly feels all of Morak’s wisdom seeping upwards into him and combining with his own in a tiny voice that provides divine guidance. Hidden mysteries suddenly become clear, and Velendo can feel his will noticeably strengthened. He gasps and stares at the front of the shield; along the border border there is a small, engraved image of Saint Morak moving about.
“He’s in my shield! I have a Saint in my shield!” The old cleric sounds incredulous.
“Now you know what it’s like for us traveling with you,” grumbles Priggle. “It wouldn’t be a gnomish saint. Oh, no, they’re not good enough. Even if there were any.” He clears his throat. “I’ll stay dead. I don’t have much to live for.”
Mara turns to him. “Priggle, of course you do!” The deep gnome looks slightly mollified.
Mara turns. “I do want to come back. Nolin, you don’t want to be resurrected, right?”
“Right. I’ll be with Rides The Sun, and I expect to be having too much fun in the afterlife.”
“Hmmph.” Agar looks at him. “We’d miss you, and you’d miss us. I’ll come back! Heck, I already did once. ” He looks around at Stone Bear. “Hey Claris, do you want to come back to life?” Stone Bear’s head twists unnaturally as Claris speaks through his mouth.
“I do. I have my daughter to care for. If I pass beyond, Nolin will have to make arrangements for her.”
“Fair enough,” sighs Velendo. “I’ll be pleased to true resurrect you once we’re done here.”
“Thank you. I may be able to repay you by helping tomorrow.” Claris explains her plan, and the group goes around and recounts each of their last wishes. Finally, it’s clear that it’s becoming late.
“We have three or four hours of fast windwalking ahead of us tomorrow,” considers Galthia. “We should sleep.”
“Is it safe?”
Velendo looks around. “We have Saint Morak with us. I think it’s safe.”
They sleep soundly and safely in the holy cavern. In the morning, they awake to find that the cavern has silently transformed around them into a fortified stone temple. Altars to Calphas and Aeos stand at either end, and from what looks like a skylight in the ceiling sunshine – real sunshine – shines in.
“We’ve been blessed,” mouths Velendo.
And in his shadow, the guardian angel Cruciel smiles to herself. It’s been a busy night and her arms are tired, but it’s definitely been worth the effort.
To be continued… the assault on Nacreous!
Last edited:
Spatzimaus
First Post
Okay, since I started the Death Pool listing way back when, I'll reiterate the rules:
THE DEATH POOL
Pick the first TWO PCs (Agar, Galthia, Malachite, Mara, Nolin, Stone Bear, Velendo) to die. The order of the two isn't important, just that they died before the rest of the party.
As a tiebreaker, pick one cohort NPC (Priggle, Cruciel, or Burr-Lipp).
When the post first came up, the group still had Tao and Splinder, but since no one picked Splinder it didn't hurt much.
The guesses so far, so that Piratecat can delete the old posts (post #594, dated 10/10/2003):
Spatzimaus: Malachite, Stone Bear, Burr-Lipp
the Jester: Mara, Nolin, Burr-Lipp (was Tao instead of Nolin)
Caliber: Agar, ?, Priggle (was Tao)
thatdarncat: Malachite, Mara, Priggle
Ryan Koppenhaver: Nolin, Velendo, Burr-Lipp
Capellan: Malachite, Velendo, Cruciel
Nail: Galthia, Mara, Cruciel (was Priggle instead of Cruciel)
Hammerhead: Malachite, Agar, Burr-Lipp
Bloodsparrow: Galthia, Malachite, Cruciel
Shilsen: Malachite, Velendo, Cruciel
LightPhoenix: Malachite, Galthia, Priggle
Zaruthustran: Malachite, Galthia, Burr-Lipp
Lela: Malachite, Stone Bear, Cruciel
Fimmtiu: Galthia, Stone Bear, Cruciel
dpdx: Malachite, Galthia, Burr-Lipp
Steverooo: Malachite, Galthia, Burr-Lipp
jerichothebard: Agar, Velendo, Cruciel
Dakkareth: Nolin, Malachite, Cruciel
Kaodi: Agar, Malachite, Cruciel
Morte: Agar, Mara, Burr-Lipp
Graywolf-ELM: Velendo, Nolin, Cruciel
aithdim: Nolin, Galthia, Priggle
GreyShadow: Galthia, Agar, ? (no, Proty doesn't count)
Abraxas: Mara, Nolin, Priggle
Dareoon Dalandrove: Malachite, Galthia, Cruciel
tleilaxu: Nolin, Velendo, Cruciel
Tallarn: Nolin, Velendo, Burr-Lipp
Cthulhucoffeecup: Galthia, Stone Bear, Cruciel
So, for the rest of you, pick now! Betting window closes as soon as Piratecat posts the first battle update. Well, that could still be months away, but do it soon!
THE DEATH POOL
Pick the first TWO PCs (Agar, Galthia, Malachite, Mara, Nolin, Stone Bear, Velendo) to die. The order of the two isn't important, just that they died before the rest of the party.
As a tiebreaker, pick one cohort NPC (Priggle, Cruciel, or Burr-Lipp).
When the post first came up, the group still had Tao and Splinder, but since no one picked Splinder it didn't hurt much.
The guesses so far, so that Piratecat can delete the old posts (post #594, dated 10/10/2003):
Spatzimaus: Malachite, Stone Bear, Burr-Lipp
the Jester: Mara, Nolin, Burr-Lipp (was Tao instead of Nolin)
Caliber: Agar, ?, Priggle (was Tao)
thatdarncat: Malachite, Mara, Priggle
Ryan Koppenhaver: Nolin, Velendo, Burr-Lipp
Capellan: Malachite, Velendo, Cruciel
Nail: Galthia, Mara, Cruciel (was Priggle instead of Cruciel)
Hammerhead: Malachite, Agar, Burr-Lipp
Bloodsparrow: Galthia, Malachite, Cruciel
Shilsen: Malachite, Velendo, Cruciel
LightPhoenix: Malachite, Galthia, Priggle
Zaruthustran: Malachite, Galthia, Burr-Lipp
Lela: Malachite, Stone Bear, Cruciel
Fimmtiu: Galthia, Stone Bear, Cruciel
dpdx: Malachite, Galthia, Burr-Lipp
Steverooo: Malachite, Galthia, Burr-Lipp
jerichothebard: Agar, Velendo, Cruciel
Dakkareth: Nolin, Malachite, Cruciel
Kaodi: Agar, Malachite, Cruciel
Morte: Agar, Mara, Burr-Lipp
Graywolf-ELM: Velendo, Nolin, Cruciel
aithdim: Nolin, Galthia, Priggle
GreyShadow: Galthia, Agar, ? (no, Proty doesn't count)
Abraxas: Mara, Nolin, Priggle
Dareoon Dalandrove: Malachite, Galthia, Cruciel
tleilaxu: Nolin, Velendo, Cruciel
Tallarn: Nolin, Velendo, Burr-Lipp
Cthulhucoffeecup: Galthia, Stone Bear, Cruciel
So, for the rest of you, pick now! Betting window closes as soon as Piratecat posts the first battle update. Well, that could still be months away, but do it soon!
Last edited:
Spatzimaus
First Post
Lela said:
Okay.
Cruciel, the "Angel of the Arch", is Velendo's guardian angel and lives in his shadow. Both of those phrases are meant literally, by the way. So, if Velendo is going to die, chances are Cruciel will go just before. Her stats are in The Thread That Shall Not Be Named (post #715), although again it's a bit out of date.
Burr-Lipp is a Bullywug gladiator. We haven't heard him do or say much; when we first met him, he was in a fight WAY over his head, and since then he's acted a support fighter (picking off "treed" enemies, etc.). As far as I know, we've never seen his actual stats.
Priggle? Never heard of him. But supposedly there's this Svirfneblin (Deep Gnome) Rogue/Combat Miner in the group, he might know who Priggle is.
A very outdated character sheet of his (dated 1/18/03) is online at http://home.comcast.net/~dorian.hart/priggle.html
Of the three remaining cohorts, Priggle's the one we hear the most out of, ironically. Just equate Priggle=Eeyore and you're pretty much there, it seems.
Anyway, the Death Pool totals so far (I'm editing my earlier post with new entries as I go), out of 16 people:
Malachite: 11
Galthia: 7
Stone Bear: 3
Mara: 3
Velendo: 3
Nolin: 2
Agar: 2
And NPCs:
Burr-Lipp: 7
Cruciel: 4
Priggle: 3 (he can't even be a popular person to die!)
And lately a lot of people seem to be picking the same three-person set (Malachite, Galthia, Burr-Lipp), which kinda removes the utility of a tiebreaker...
Piratecat
Sesquipedalian
Stone Bear yawns. Absent from his sleep were the normal nightmares and flitting spirits that have become almost routine since he first descended into these hells beneath the earth. He can feel grit in his eye sockets, the grumblings of his spirit guides, the sharp talons of his raven, and the spirit of Claris still inside of him. He starts to stretch, and… and…
“Why is there a tray of cinammon buns in my hands?”
“My apologies, Stone Bear.” Claris’ voice issues forth from his own mouth. “You were asleep, and since the instant fortress has a good kitchen I thought I’d take the opportunity to make breakfast. ”
Stone Bear growls, but the pastries smell incredibly good. “Don’t do that,” he says brusquely, his own mouth already full of pastry.
“I won’t make a habit out of it.”
-- o --
Nolin wipes the sweat from his brow. “My part of the plan is done. Claris is riding in Stone Bear’s body?” The shaman nods, and the bard continues. “Good. Stone Bear has the hard part still to do, but that’s not for a while. Agar can spoof a commune with nature spell once we get closer, and Stone Bear’s spirit guide Elder can guide us where we need to go. Time for us to move.”
Priggle frowns, his face slipping into its natural expression. “I hope your plan works,” he says doubtfully.
Nolin looks around at the cavern that is alight with the joyous spirits of light.
“Me too.”
“I had a dream last night,” says Agar pensively. “I was at a funeral. Someone had keeled over, some rich squire of some kind. His servants came to act as pallbearers and when called to do so took his body to the mortuary. Then they just stood around and didn’t go back to their mansion, because with their master dead there was no one to give them direction. Then the dream shifted, and I was standing on the top rigging of a ship out at sea. I was looking at a lighthouse. It looked more like a normal house, really, but it was up on top of a hill. At its base were the bones from all the people in all the ships that crashed into the rocks there. My ship was headed in towards it. I had the feeling that if I was brave enough we would be able to dock, and then from down belowdecks I heard my Mom calling me. I looked down, and I was back home in my bed. My Mom was standing there next to a little halfling girl, and I woke up.”
Nolin makes a face. “Oh, joy. I wonder what normal dreams for Agar look like?”
Mara smiles. “More tentacles.”
The group gathers in a circle to cast preparatory spells and wind walk. “Remember,” cautions Velendo as he dissolves into mist, “we attack by rushing in stealthily and trying to find the Ivory King immediately. We’re best off taking him out without fussing with any of the other defenders.”
“Time is short,” interrupts Malachite, “and we’ve discussed this over and over. Let’s go.”
This way, hisses Elder in Stone Bear’s head. Very close now.
For more than an hour the group twists through endless corridors. Down through long-abandoned tunnels carved by unimaginably huge creatures, through narrow cracks in the ancient stone, past jagged stone outcroppings and long-dry waterfalls. The stone creaks and shudders around them, a reminder of the depth to which they’ve descended.
Only Stone Bear sees the spirit who begins paralleling their flight. It’s a man who has all the flesh burned from his body. He’s dressed in red-hot armor and smouldering robes, and it almost looks as if the spirit is falling sideways instead of flying. Whoever he is, he’s flying very close to Velendo.
“Have you burned someone in your career?” Stone Bear asks.
“The herald of Yorrine, God of Disease,” answers Velendo. “I cast him into the center of the earth where he fell and fell and fell forever, but then Halcyon went and killed him for us. Why?”
“There’s a spirit very close to you, and he’s wearing the holy garb of Imbindarla.”
Velendo’s misty face twists in confusion and they slow down to a crawl. As they do the spirit plummets out of sight into the stone beneath them. As the group slowly stops and materializes in order to investigate, Priggle cries out.
“Look at the rock!” The stone here is pale, almost milky.
“What kind of rock is that?” asks Stone Bear.
“It isn’t rock,” says Priggle in a shaky voice. “It’s bone. That’s just wrong.”
“What?” Velendo sounds appalled. “Lots of little bones, or one big bone?”
“I’ve got one bi–“ begins Nolin, but he’s quickly cut off by the others.
“It has stalagmites and stalactites, like honest rock, but it’s bone,” continues a mystified Velendo. “I’m not sure this changes anything, but it can’t be good.”
Stone Bear focuses his will and jams his hand into a crevice in the ground. His muscles creak, and a chunk of stone breaks off in his hand. When it does, milky red fluid oozes out of it.
“Ehhh.” The shaman looks at it with distaste.
“There are no thoughts here,” says Nolin.
“And no undeath,” continues Malachite.
“And a small amount of evil,” concludes Mara.
“Look at that!” As Galthia gestures, they see a small chunk of whitish stone completely ossify and turn into bone before their eyes.
“It’s spreading out from Imbindarla’s body,” says Velendo quickly, “or maybe from the Ivory King. We should hurry!” He turns to Stone Bear. “What else can you tell me about that spirit?”
Stone Bear shrugs, upsetting his raven. “Black robes. Burnt-out eyes. A smoking place on his chest.”
Light dawns in Velendo’s eyes. “Shield-shaped?” Stone Bear nods. “Dale Greldin? Crap! What’s HE doing here?” His voice rises into a howl. “We killed him so many freaking times!”
“I killed him twice,” contributes Nolin helpfully.
“Who?” asks Stone Bear, confused.
“The high priest of Imbindarla was responsible for the comet. He tried to end the world a few years back; he wanted to release all of the incredibly evil proto-worms who once controlled Spira before the Gods came, and he tried to do it by smashing a comet into the world. I’ve cast down three people in my career: Yuute, Droomak the assassin, and this Dale Greldin.” He smiles thinly. “I may have to do a fourth before the day is out.
“I wouldn’t trust him any farther than I could throw him. On the other hand, he probably hates the Ivory King as much as we do, since he worshipped Imbindarla.”
“I’ll do what I can to talk to him and keep him away from you,” says Stone Bear. “But we should continue on.”
Yesssssss, agrees Elder.
As they start flying again, Greldin reappears, tumbling along in a screaming freefall. There is no sign that Greldin knows that the Velendo or the Defenders are nearby, and no one can sense him other than Stone Bear. The group passes stalactites that look more like teeth than rock, a small underground lake that looks like milky blood, a heavily barricaded and abandoned ghoulish outpost. The group almost welcomes the diversion when Galthia, scouting ahead, notices a zombie ahead in the middle of the passage.
“We call this the Soder lookout,” quips Nolin.
“His eyes have been replaced with two of the King’s flying eyeball spies,” cautions Galthia. “But it’s just a zombie.”
“How can we destroy it without risk of the eyes escaping?” asks Agar.
“We can’t let the eyes warn them that we’re coming,” worries Velendo.
“Why don’t you just put a bag over his head and tie the bag at the bottom?” asks Nolin. Everyone ignores him.
“Eurrrrggggg,” mumbles the zombie.
“Turn undead?” asks Mara.
“I could smite it,” considers Malachite.
“We should just put a bag on his head!” insists Nolin. “Tie the bag, and the eyes can’t get out!”
“We should destroy the eyes!” insists Velendo.
“I could cast chain of eyes on them and just let them fly back,” considers Stone Bear, “but they’re non-living.”
“Maybe if we block off the corridor with a wall spell.”
“Augggglllleeeragh,” grumbles the oblivious zombie, still not aware of the group.
There’s a moment of silence. Everyone looks at one another.
“Nolin’s plan wins.”
Galthia ambushes the clumsy zombie with ease, and the sack hides the group from the magical scrying devices. Within a few minutes the undead is completely destroyed and the group is moving again.
“I told you it was a simple plan,” says Nolin as they fly away.
Tomorrow: the assault!
“Why is there a tray of cinammon buns in my hands?”
“My apologies, Stone Bear.” Claris’ voice issues forth from his own mouth. “You were asleep, and since the instant fortress has a good kitchen I thought I’d take the opportunity to make breakfast. ”
Stone Bear growls, but the pastries smell incredibly good. “Don’t do that,” he says brusquely, his own mouth already full of pastry.
“I won’t make a habit out of it.”
-- o --
Nolin wipes the sweat from his brow. “My part of the plan is done. Claris is riding in Stone Bear’s body?” The shaman nods, and the bard continues. “Good. Stone Bear has the hard part still to do, but that’s not for a while. Agar can spoof a commune with nature spell once we get closer, and Stone Bear’s spirit guide Elder can guide us where we need to go. Time for us to move.”
Priggle frowns, his face slipping into its natural expression. “I hope your plan works,” he says doubtfully.
Nolin looks around at the cavern that is alight with the joyous spirits of light.
“Me too.”
“I had a dream last night,” says Agar pensively. “I was at a funeral. Someone had keeled over, some rich squire of some kind. His servants came to act as pallbearers and when called to do so took his body to the mortuary. Then they just stood around and didn’t go back to their mansion, because with their master dead there was no one to give them direction. Then the dream shifted, and I was standing on the top rigging of a ship out at sea. I was looking at a lighthouse. It looked more like a normal house, really, but it was up on top of a hill. At its base were the bones from all the people in all the ships that crashed into the rocks there. My ship was headed in towards it. I had the feeling that if I was brave enough we would be able to dock, and then from down belowdecks I heard my Mom calling me. I looked down, and I was back home in my bed. My Mom was standing there next to a little halfling girl, and I woke up.”
Nolin makes a face. “Oh, joy. I wonder what normal dreams for Agar look like?”
Mara smiles. “More tentacles.”
The group gathers in a circle to cast preparatory spells and wind walk. “Remember,” cautions Velendo as he dissolves into mist, “we attack by rushing in stealthily and trying to find the Ivory King immediately. We’re best off taking him out without fussing with any of the other defenders.”
“Time is short,” interrupts Malachite, “and we’ve discussed this over and over. Let’s go.”
This way, hisses Elder in Stone Bear’s head. Very close now.
For more than an hour the group twists through endless corridors. Down through long-abandoned tunnels carved by unimaginably huge creatures, through narrow cracks in the ancient stone, past jagged stone outcroppings and long-dry waterfalls. The stone creaks and shudders around them, a reminder of the depth to which they’ve descended.
Only Stone Bear sees the spirit who begins paralleling their flight. It’s a man who has all the flesh burned from his body. He’s dressed in red-hot armor and smouldering robes, and it almost looks as if the spirit is falling sideways instead of flying. Whoever he is, he’s flying very close to Velendo.
“Have you burned someone in your career?” Stone Bear asks.
“The herald of Yorrine, God of Disease,” answers Velendo. “I cast him into the center of the earth where he fell and fell and fell forever, but then Halcyon went and killed him for us. Why?”
“There’s a spirit very close to you, and he’s wearing the holy garb of Imbindarla.”
Velendo’s misty face twists in confusion and they slow down to a crawl. As they do the spirit plummets out of sight into the stone beneath them. As the group slowly stops and materializes in order to investigate, Priggle cries out.
“Look at the rock!” The stone here is pale, almost milky.
“What kind of rock is that?” asks Stone Bear.
“It isn’t rock,” says Priggle in a shaky voice. “It’s bone. That’s just wrong.”
“What?” Velendo sounds appalled. “Lots of little bones, or one big bone?”
“I’ve got one bi–“ begins Nolin, but he’s quickly cut off by the others.
“It has stalagmites and stalactites, like honest rock, but it’s bone,” continues a mystified Velendo. “I’m not sure this changes anything, but it can’t be good.”
Stone Bear focuses his will and jams his hand into a crevice in the ground. His muscles creak, and a chunk of stone breaks off in his hand. When it does, milky red fluid oozes out of it.
“Ehhh.” The shaman looks at it with distaste.
“There are no thoughts here,” says Nolin.
“And no undeath,” continues Malachite.
“And a small amount of evil,” concludes Mara.
“Look at that!” As Galthia gestures, they see a small chunk of whitish stone completely ossify and turn into bone before their eyes.
“It’s spreading out from Imbindarla’s body,” says Velendo quickly, “or maybe from the Ivory King. We should hurry!” He turns to Stone Bear. “What else can you tell me about that spirit?”
Stone Bear shrugs, upsetting his raven. “Black robes. Burnt-out eyes. A smoking place on his chest.”
Light dawns in Velendo’s eyes. “Shield-shaped?” Stone Bear nods. “Dale Greldin? Crap! What’s HE doing here?” His voice rises into a howl. “We killed him so many freaking times!”
“I killed him twice,” contributes Nolin helpfully.
“Who?” asks Stone Bear, confused.
“The high priest of Imbindarla was responsible for the comet. He tried to end the world a few years back; he wanted to release all of the incredibly evil proto-worms who once controlled Spira before the Gods came, and he tried to do it by smashing a comet into the world. I’ve cast down three people in my career: Yuute, Droomak the assassin, and this Dale Greldin.” He smiles thinly. “I may have to do a fourth before the day is out.
“I wouldn’t trust him any farther than I could throw him. On the other hand, he probably hates the Ivory King as much as we do, since he worshipped Imbindarla.”
“I’ll do what I can to talk to him and keep him away from you,” says Stone Bear. “But we should continue on.”
Yesssssss, agrees Elder.
As they start flying again, Greldin reappears, tumbling along in a screaming freefall. There is no sign that Greldin knows that the Velendo or the Defenders are nearby, and no one can sense him other than Stone Bear. The group passes stalactites that look more like teeth than rock, a small underground lake that looks like milky blood, a heavily barricaded and abandoned ghoulish outpost. The group almost welcomes the diversion when Galthia, scouting ahead, notices a zombie ahead in the middle of the passage.
“We call this the Soder lookout,” quips Nolin.
“His eyes have been replaced with two of the King’s flying eyeball spies,” cautions Galthia. “But it’s just a zombie.”
“How can we destroy it without risk of the eyes escaping?” asks Agar.
“We can’t let the eyes warn them that we’re coming,” worries Velendo.
“Why don’t you just put a bag over his head and tie the bag at the bottom?” asks Nolin. Everyone ignores him.
“Eurrrrggggg,” mumbles the zombie.
“Turn undead?” asks Mara.
“I could smite it,” considers Malachite.
“We should just put a bag on his head!” insists Nolin. “Tie the bag, and the eyes can’t get out!”
“We should destroy the eyes!” insists Velendo.
“I could cast chain of eyes on them and just let them fly back,” considers Stone Bear, “but they’re non-living.”
“Maybe if we block off the corridor with a wall spell.”
“Augggglllleeeragh,” grumbles the oblivious zombie, still not aware of the group.
There’s a moment of silence. Everyone looks at one another.
“Nolin’s plan wins.”
Galthia ambushes the clumsy zombie with ease, and the sack hides the group from the magical scrying devices. Within a few minutes the undead is completely destroyed and the group is moving again.
“I told you it was a simple plan,” says Nolin as they fly away.
Tomorrow: the assault!
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Piratecat
Sesquipedalian
Here's really how the zombie encounter went. The group debated for fifteen minutes, horribly paranoid, coming up with all sorts of complicated plans. When they decided to go with Nolin's, the execution of it by Galthia was sublime.
”Roll a hide and move silently.”
“36 on the hide, 26 on the move silently.”
*derisive snort* “It doesn’t seem to notice you as you sneak up on it. Roll to hit.”
(almost embarrassed) “28.”
“You hit the zombie with a sack! Congratulations. Let's see... It turns and blindly tries to club you. *rattle clatter* I roll a natural 1 to hit, and then a 3 to confirm the fumble. It turns, stumbles, and falls over at your feet with a sack on its head.”
"Well, that went better than expected."
"It was a ZOMBIE."
“36 on the hide, 26 on the move silently.”
*derisive snort* “It doesn’t seem to notice you as you sneak up on it. Roll to hit.”
(almost embarrassed) “28.”
“You hit the zombie with a sack! Congratulations. Let's see... It turns and blindly tries to club you. *rattle clatter* I roll a natural 1 to hit, and then a 3 to confirm the fumble. It turns, stumbles, and falls over at your feet with a sack on its head.”
"Well, that went better than expected."
"It was a ZOMBIE."
Last edited:
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