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The Chronicle of Burne, and Some Others of Lesser Importance *Updated May 17th, 2009*
- Thread starter Rolzup
- Start date
Bloodcookie
Explorer
Rackhir said:
As a matter of fact, I've been quite curious about the details of Burne's Alchemist class.
Rolzup
First Post
Long and sadly delayed, but....
A Misadventure, a Meal, and a Medical Intervention
While the others flailed about, trying to determine some method for dealing with the looming crisis, I kept my head. Indeed, I formulated a plan of sublime brilliance, which would merely have required some minor effort on the part of my lackeys...but alas, they proved too lazy to follow my lead.
BURNE WANTED ME TO FIND MEPHISOPHOCLES' FAMILIAR, DOUBTING THOMAS, BY PRETENDING TO BE AN 'ORGANIC' CAT AND INTERROGATING THE LOCAL POPULATION OF STRAYS. HE NEEDED RACKHIR TO HUNT A CAT FOR HIM, AND KENJI TO SKIN THE CREATURE AND TURN IT INTO A SUIT THAT I COULD WEAR. MEIJI WAS SUPPOSED TO DO THE SEWING, I THINK. NEVER MIND THAT I DON'T SPEAK CAT, DOUBTING THOMAS IS NOT -- AND HAS NEVER BEEN -- AN ACTUAL CAT. HE SHOULD ONLY BE SO LUCKY.
So be it. The Archbishop choose to commune with Kruetzel over what he should do, and the others rather limply agreed to await a response before taking any sort of decisive action. Rackhir was rather put out by this, as Joachim had promised some ritual that would have cured him of the lingering weakness from his recent resurrection and said ritual would now have to be delayed, but he accepted the situation somewhat stoically.
In the meantime, we had a matter of business that needed to be addressed. We had recently learned from Daikon that the monastery would soon be coming up for open auction, and -- as we clearly had an interest in the place -- had determined that it would be a good idea if we were to be the winning bidders. To this end, we set out to visit one M.P. Menboob, Legate of the Little Ajakhan Autonomous Ethnic Zone, to see if we could...exercise some influence upon his decision.
THREATEN HIM, IN OTHER WORDS.
Alas, matters did not go as planned. The legate had a surprising number of well-armed and armored guards, and matter quickly became surprisingly tense. Kenji was on the verge of drawing his sword and striking the man down for some imagined insult, but chose instead to invite him to dine with us the next morning. I shall never understand that man's thought processes, although I eagerly anticipate someday dissecting his frontal lobe in an attempt to do so.
This inexplicably accomplished, we all went our separate ways for the time being. I had work to do, now that the plans for the incredible Burne's Thermoreactive Cerebric Barrier had leaped fully-formed into my mind....
SUCH AS IT IS.
...and Kenji had to polish his nails, or something similar. Meiji, for his part, was determined to investigate the 'Gate Lantern' that we had recovered some months ago, and decided to go off to some remote location in order to do so. He asked Rackhir to accompany him upon this errand, and the archer -- displaying an appalling lack of common sense and short-term memory -- agreed to do so. I dismissed them with a wave, morbidly certain that it was the last time I would be seeing Rackhir alive.
Some hours passed, as I began my work. I used my old helmet as the framework, and the remaining ligaments of the Rast to act as a liner. I found that creating the mana filter was more tricky than I had anticipated, and was forced....
Well. No sense in giving away trade secrets, eh?
NOT THAT THEY WOULD MAKE ANY SENSE TO ANYONE WHO IS NOT UNFORTUNATE ENOUGH TO BE BURNE.
Meiji and Rackhir returned at some point late in the day. The archer was looking disheveled and bloody, and was glaring at Meiji even more than usual, so I could only assume that matters had gone better for him than I had anticipated. Humbly, they asked the benefit of my expertise upon certain subjects that had troubled them, and I cheerfully agreed to accompany them on their excursion upon the morrow. Learning that I would have access to the corpses of both a giant scorpion AND a six-limbed primate was merely the icing on the cake.
The next morning, we all set out to meet with this Menboob fellow at the Palm d'Whorl. The food was excellent, the company less so. But nevertheless, infromative! Menboob seemed to be making a number of assumption about how much we already knew, and I was all too glad to play along. My companions, for a change, were canny enough to play along. As it transpired, the entire Little Ajikhan district was due to be...well, redistricted. There was profit to be made, and undesirable foreigners to be dispossessed and relocated. I found myself nodding along at this eminently sensible scheme, until Menboob mentioned the mastermind behind it all.
Lord Nitin Philippe. Father of the late Savur Philippe.
Reluctantly, I realized that we would have to oppose his plans, simply on principle. Without principles, after all, what are we?
BURNE.
Happily, Menboob jumped to the conclusion that we were merely the representatives of another, more political powerful individual, and offered us a deal. We could get in on the 'ground floor' of this upcoming property auction, which was far more extensive than Diakon knew, and make ourselves one of the powers of the new district.
A tempting offer indeed, and we parted ways with Menboob in a very thoughtful mood....
The plan had been to return to the sight of Meiji and Rackhir's experiments, and for me to provide them with guidance and insight into their investigations. And perhaps to detonate any untoward results of same. But our way took us past 'The Chapel', the tavern and temple of our old friend the Reverend Don 'Magic Wand', and the excited babblings of the crowd gathered outside the place caught out attention.
We shouldered our way through the crowd, and found ourselves facing one of the Reverend's deacons...a man who was delighted when he recognized us. From what I could glean of his frantic babbling, a sandstorm had swept through the tavern, leaving the reverend unconscious and unresponsive in its wake. And indeed, 'Magic Wand' did not look at all well. He was stretched out upon the ground, a blank look upon his face, staring unblinkingly up at the ceiling.
Kicking the sand away -- sand which, I astutely noticed, faded away in mid air rather than falling back to the ground -- Meiji muttered something in his barbaric tongue and touched the Reverend's chest. There was a sharp crackle, and the smell of ozone filled the air as the Reverend sat straight upright and made an attempt to punch Meiji in the nose.
Clearly, he had returned to his senses.
A Misadventure, a Meal, and a Medical Intervention
While the others flailed about, trying to determine some method for dealing with the looming crisis, I kept my head. Indeed, I formulated a plan of sublime brilliance, which would merely have required some minor effort on the part of my lackeys...but alas, they proved too lazy to follow my lead.
BURNE WANTED ME TO FIND MEPHISOPHOCLES' FAMILIAR, DOUBTING THOMAS, BY PRETENDING TO BE AN 'ORGANIC' CAT AND INTERROGATING THE LOCAL POPULATION OF STRAYS. HE NEEDED RACKHIR TO HUNT A CAT FOR HIM, AND KENJI TO SKIN THE CREATURE AND TURN IT INTO A SUIT THAT I COULD WEAR. MEIJI WAS SUPPOSED TO DO THE SEWING, I THINK. NEVER MIND THAT I DON'T SPEAK CAT, DOUBTING THOMAS IS NOT -- AND HAS NEVER BEEN -- AN ACTUAL CAT. HE SHOULD ONLY BE SO LUCKY.
So be it. The Archbishop choose to commune with Kruetzel over what he should do, and the others rather limply agreed to await a response before taking any sort of decisive action. Rackhir was rather put out by this, as Joachim had promised some ritual that would have cured him of the lingering weakness from his recent resurrection and said ritual would now have to be delayed, but he accepted the situation somewhat stoically.
In the meantime, we had a matter of business that needed to be addressed. We had recently learned from Daikon that the monastery would soon be coming up for open auction, and -- as we clearly had an interest in the place -- had determined that it would be a good idea if we were to be the winning bidders. To this end, we set out to visit one M.P. Menboob, Legate of the Little Ajakhan Autonomous Ethnic Zone, to see if we could...exercise some influence upon his decision.
THREATEN HIM, IN OTHER WORDS.
Alas, matters did not go as planned. The legate had a surprising number of well-armed and armored guards, and matter quickly became surprisingly tense. Kenji was on the verge of drawing his sword and striking the man down for some imagined insult, but chose instead to invite him to dine with us the next morning. I shall never understand that man's thought processes, although I eagerly anticipate someday dissecting his frontal lobe in an attempt to do so.
This inexplicably accomplished, we all went our separate ways for the time being. I had work to do, now that the plans for the incredible Burne's Thermoreactive Cerebric Barrier had leaped fully-formed into my mind....
SUCH AS IT IS.
...and Kenji had to polish his nails, or something similar. Meiji, for his part, was determined to investigate the 'Gate Lantern' that we had recovered some months ago, and decided to go off to some remote location in order to do so. He asked Rackhir to accompany him upon this errand, and the archer -- displaying an appalling lack of common sense and short-term memory -- agreed to do so. I dismissed them with a wave, morbidly certain that it was the last time I would be seeing Rackhir alive.
Some hours passed, as I began my work. I used my old helmet as the framework, and the remaining ligaments of the Rast to act as a liner. I found that creating the mana filter was more tricky than I had anticipated, and was forced....
Well. No sense in giving away trade secrets, eh?
NOT THAT THEY WOULD MAKE ANY SENSE TO ANYONE WHO IS NOT UNFORTUNATE ENOUGH TO BE BURNE.
Meiji and Rackhir returned at some point late in the day. The archer was looking disheveled and bloody, and was glaring at Meiji even more than usual, so I could only assume that matters had gone better for him than I had anticipated. Humbly, they asked the benefit of my expertise upon certain subjects that had troubled them, and I cheerfully agreed to accompany them on their excursion upon the morrow. Learning that I would have access to the corpses of both a giant scorpion AND a six-limbed primate was merely the icing on the cake.
The next morning, we all set out to meet with this Menboob fellow at the Palm d'Whorl. The food was excellent, the company less so. But nevertheless, infromative! Menboob seemed to be making a number of assumption about how much we already knew, and I was all too glad to play along. My companions, for a change, were canny enough to play along. As it transpired, the entire Little Ajikhan district was due to be...well, redistricted. There was profit to be made, and undesirable foreigners to be dispossessed and relocated. I found myself nodding along at this eminently sensible scheme, until Menboob mentioned the mastermind behind it all.
Lord Nitin Philippe. Father of the late Savur Philippe.
Reluctantly, I realized that we would have to oppose his plans, simply on principle. Without principles, after all, what are we?
BURNE.
Happily, Menboob jumped to the conclusion that we were merely the representatives of another, more political powerful individual, and offered us a deal. We could get in on the 'ground floor' of this upcoming property auction, which was far more extensive than Diakon knew, and make ourselves one of the powers of the new district.
A tempting offer indeed, and we parted ways with Menboob in a very thoughtful mood....
The plan had been to return to the sight of Meiji and Rackhir's experiments, and for me to provide them with guidance and insight into their investigations. And perhaps to detonate any untoward results of same. But our way took us past 'The Chapel', the tavern and temple of our old friend the Reverend Don 'Magic Wand', and the excited babblings of the crowd gathered outside the place caught out attention.
We shouldered our way through the crowd, and found ourselves facing one of the Reverend's deacons...a man who was delighted when he recognized us. From what I could glean of his frantic babbling, a sandstorm had swept through the tavern, leaving the reverend unconscious and unresponsive in its wake. And indeed, 'Magic Wand' did not look at all well. He was stretched out upon the ground, a blank look upon his face, staring unblinkingly up at the ceiling.
Kicking the sand away -- sand which, I astutely noticed, faded away in mid air rather than falling back to the ground -- Meiji muttered something in his barbaric tongue and touched the Reverend's chest. There was a sharp crackle, and the smell of ozone filled the air as the Reverend sat straight upright and made an attempt to punch Meiji in the nose.
Clearly, he had returned to his senses.
