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You are here: Home --> Forum Home --> Recent posts by t_catt11
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Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off Q&A
Subject: absolutely...


We love the torture. Long ago, we decided that CWWLLO = "masochist invitattional".

We all KNOw we're gonna die at some point, it's the when and how that keep us guessing!

Posted on 2007-10-08 at 13:42:51.

Topic: The Tides of Fate Q&A
Subject: babies...


I forgot just how far away they can poop. And how often they do it!

Posted on 2007-10-05 at 19:40:08.

Topic: The Tides of Fate Q&A
Subject: suwheet


Good to see your post, Tri.

I will give the rest of you the weekend to post, then I'll try to do an update on Monday. Let's keep this baby going, shall we?


Posted on 2007-10-05 at 18:16:48.

Topic: The Voting Game
Subject: wow...


...we're still unranked. Vote, people!

Posted on 2007-10-05 at 15:01:47.

Topic: The Guiding Light
Subject: to the sea!


12th Pfier (Fallday), 452 E.R.
Town of Crall's Shoal, western Antaron

The party sets off in search of a captain willing to take the lot of them to the lighthouse via boat. The universal feeling is that the less time spent in the swampy land between here and the lighthouse, the better.

While Barl clearly knows what he is talking about - by the time you reach the docks, they are mostly devoid of vessels - he had no way of knowing that not everyone would be out on the water today. One fishing vessel is moored almost at the center of the row of docks, with two men - one young, one old - scurrying around and over her.

"For the love of the mother, lad, can you not get it right?" the older man bellows. His accent is clearly not local - an observant ear would place his Apanonese with a Corian accent. Despite the harsh tones, he annunciates very clearly, as one might expect to hear from an educated man.

The younger man pulls hard on a rope, and something occurs which seems to please the older one. "That's more like it, then! This day's wasted for sure, but now we'll be ready for the morrow, after all."

He glances down at the party, and gestures, as if to doff a hat. "Hail and well met, mellonea! Captain Jonas Thirsef, at your service." He glances at the younger man. "Tod, finish up while I speak with these people."

Nimbly, he drops to the deck below and approaches the group. "Alas, Shinara has not smiled on us of late - we've been forced to replace a mast on the Arienne. What can I do for you?"

DM's note: assuming you explain your purpose...

Captain Jonas shakes his head. "The lighthouse? Indeed, I could take you there - we'll be ready to set sail within the hour, and I'm sure that we can agree on a reasonable fee. Perhaps this day won't be wasted, after all?" He grins, and the expression causes the lines on his weathered face to deepen even more.

"However," he explains, "as you can see, the Arienne is not large enough to carry your horses, as well - you'll need to board them in town. Truth be told, it might not be such a terrible idea if you plan on coming back from the lighthouse overland... much of that terrain would be difficult on a horse, even during the dry season."

He shrugs his shoulders. "But, it's up to you. You may be able to charter one of the larger boats this evening, but most of the chaps here aren't likely to make you the sort of deal that I will - they stand to make more money fishing than ferrying, if you can understand. I might not be willing myself, but we've lost the morning already."

The captain scratches his chin. "How about three levens per head? I think that would be a fair price."




Posted on 2007-10-04 at 20:31:39.

Topic: A Cold Day in Hell Q&A
Subject: patience, grasshopper


Almost time it is.

Posted on 2007-10-04 at 17:08:57.

Topic: The Voting Game
Subject: vote again!


Vote again! The list has reset, and we are unranked!

Posted on 2007-10-04 at 13:28:20.

Topic: Olan's baby photobucket
Subject: Photobucket for Olan's baby


Donna set herself up a photobucket, so I'll reduce my spamming of the boards with photos. Instead, you can go to the bucket itself if you wish to see them

http://s237.photobucket.com/albums/ff282/RNmommato3


Posted on 2007-10-03 at 21:27:05.

Topic: The Tides of Fate Q&A
Subject: targets...


Shoulda put this in the game thread itelf, I guess.

If you get up, you'll be able to immediately spot at least three hostiles at various positions - two at angles across the street, one on top of a building across the street. the one on top of the building has a rifle (if Damanil cares to study it, he'll note that it is a NICE military-type distance blaster rifle. Think energy sniper).



Posted on 2007-10-03 at 19:51:31.
Edited on 2007-10-05 at 18:17:24 by t_catt11

Topic: A Cold Day in Hell Q&A
Subject: understand...


...I won't wait at this spot forever. If I don't see any posts before long, I'll assume you have no further questions for the Major, and will bump the plot.


Posted on 2007-10-03 at 19:06:27.

Topic: The Tides of Fate Q&A
Subject: surprise


You have been taken (almost utterly) by surprise - Caise was the only one who came close to passing a surprise check, and even he failed.

No party member is seriously injured at this point - maybe a bruise or two due to your sudden reintroduction with the ground, but luckily, the concussion charge was not perfectly placed.



Posted on 2007-10-03 at 19:00:10.

Topic: Star Wars: The Tides of Fate
Subject: meyhem


The party reforms after a bit of shopping and some assorted chitchat - most of it concerning where the future might lead. Caise expresses his desire to reach Pandath, as well as his reasons why, and no one can provide any compelling reason as to why this is not the best course for all. The padawan considers how to go about securing transportation to Taanab's capitol city, then a pair of familiar faces present themselves.

"You guys are still here?" asks a grinning Jaal. His arm rests around Jeena's waist, and she wears a grin of her own. The young man asks a few polite, non intrusive questions about your success here in the city thus far, and relates his own. "Father will be quite pleased," he remarks. "I was able to pick up three of the Daizar Sevens for what we expected to give for two of them, plus a couple of spare condensors to boot!"

Jeena rolls her eyes as he prattles on about ag equipment, but does manage to interject, "See? Your father would do well to follow your lead on this - you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar."

You find yourselves on the street outside with the couple. "Listen," Jaal explains, "I have to get back to the plantation, else we'd give you a ride to Pandath ourselves. But the trans depot is halfway across town from here - we'll give you a ride there."

GM's note: I see no reason for anyone to object, so in the interest of time, I'm pressing forward...

As a group, you walk to the end of the polyblock building, where Jaal pauses in front of a small terminal adjacent to a large cargo door. He inputs a code into the terminal, then stands back to wait. "Sorry, but this particular garage has some ancient servos - Brod is too cheap to upgrade them, so it takes forever for them to retrieve your ride, especially when they stick you on one of the higher levels." You understand that this is an autmoated parking facility - one parks their transportation on the pad, where it is then whisked inside and placed into a holding bin, thus maximizing the available space.

Jeena steps up next to him, whispers something in his ear, and the two share a quick kiss, oblovious to the traffic of the street. Smiling, she turns to Caise and opens her mouth to speak, but pauses in mid motion. Her expression quickly melts into one of confusion.

Suddenly, Caise's senses are on fire. Danger! they scream.

Even as the padawan reazlies what his senses are telling him, Jeena realizes the bright red stain rapidly spreading across her chest. She glances downward, touching the gaping wound that has opened there, looks at her crimson-stained fingertips. Worldlessly, she sags to the ground, the look of surprise never leaving her face.

Shock and terror twist Jaal's expression as he screams her name, and an instant later, there is a discernable *ping* as a chunck of polyblock explodes into shrapnel mere inches to the side of Damanil. Belatedly, you realize that it is apparent that you have come under fire. Before anyone can react, a wall of force knocks every member of the party to the ground as some sort of concussive blast detonates at extremely close range.

Through the ringing in your ears, you can hear the terrified screams of sentients, as well as the whine of blaster fire.

You are attacked!



Posted on 2007-10-03 at 18:54:34.
Edited on 2007-10-03 at 18:57:29 by t_catt11

Topic: A Cold Day in Hell Q&A
Subject: said


The coordinate thing was a printed readout, not an audible thing. However, I'm sure it's no secret.


Posted on 2007-10-02 at 18:36:07.

Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off Q&A
Subject: great reading!


Hehe... we may be playing this scene a bit over the top, but I tell you, it has been great reading, IMO! The sort of tale that Arien would have eaten up as a child.

Live or die, this has been tremendous fun.

Posted on 2007-10-01 at 13:42:25.

Topic: The Tides of Fate Q&A
Subject: post or not


..this weekend. I'm posting Monday. Enough of this dragginess in updates!

Posted on 2007-09-28 at 21:05:46.

Topic: A Cold Day in Hell
Subject: danger! danger!


May 8th, 2025
Inside the X-66 Scramjet - 1034

Chief Blake makes her way out of the restraints and to the front of the plane, discovering the pleasant surprise that, despite the X-66's extreme velocity, she is able to move about freely. Well, at least as freely as one can when forced into a semi-crouch due to a low ceiling.

As the team's teachie reaches the control panels at the front of the craft, she is greeted by a friendly display next to the flashing red light.
Warning! Incorrect course detected - inadequate fuel supplies for current chosen path.
Correction required!


Fortunately, she has little difficulty in convincing the onboard computer to allow her to enter a new course. With her blessing/curse of a memory, Charlie immediately recalls the the coordinates of WhiteHorse. Quite a bit tougher is working through the cumbersome navigation interface to make the damned machine actually accept a new route. After several minutes, the alarm silences and the screen changes.
Computing....done.
New course accepted. Estimated post-flight fuel reserves are 3%.


The remaining hour and a half of the flight consists of the boredom one would expect.


**********************

The X-66 gracefully descends into the inky blackness; through the small cockpit window you can see heavy snow rushing to meet you. You hear the drone of the landing gear descending, and after a few minor adjustments (that alternately pin you to your seat and throw your stomach into your throat), the scramjet lands safely.

As an equally thunderous silence engulfs you, your team removes their respective safety harnesses. Momentarily, the silence is overwhelmed by the roar of wind as the aircraft's hatch is opened. Peering into the fuselage, dressed in a heavy artic coat and goggles, is a nondescript soldier.

"Come with me," he says in a heavy accent. "The Arctic Cat will take us back to base where you can talk to Major Carrolton. He can answer any questions you might have."

The chapped face beneath the goggles grins. "Welcome to WhiteHorse."

As you are led to what is presumably the Artic Cat - a huge cross between a tow truck and a snowmobile - you can see other parka-clad soldiers unloading your gear and hooking up the still-steaming X-66 for towing back to the hanger. The wind is breathtakingly strong, whipping tiny pellets of snow like so many frozen razor blades against your unprotected skin. The flight suits may have helped with the g forces of flight, but they do a poor job of insulating you against the bitter cold, and all of you are shivering lustily in short order.

The drive back takes nearly fifteen minutes as the Artic Cat creeps along the tarmac on creaking treads. Finally, you arrive at a small, dark building with a pair of soldiers stationed at the door. Entering, you meet a large, bearded man with bronze skin and dark hair. the soldier who met you outside introduces you to Major Carrolton.

"So you survived, eh?" he asks. "Well, I’m sure that the government will be happy to know their scramjet can do more than just transport cargo."

Major Carrolton rises to his feet, easily reaching six and a half feet in height. He extends an enormous hand to Lieutenant Kernan and then continues.

"We’re getting a chopper ready to fly you out. We’ll have to wait until the weather breaks, so you’ll be staying with us for a few hours. You can get some rest if you need it. One of my men will show you to some private quarters."



Posted on 2007-09-28 at 18:02:15.
Edited on 2007-10-31 at 20:23:04 by t_catt11

Topic: A Cold Day in Hell Q&A
Subject: a quick physics lesson


More than one player has asked me about moving in the scramjet while at mach 6. I'm seeing descriptions of being unable to move, or in having great difficulty in doing so, cropping up in posts.

When thinking about such tremendous speeds, such assumptions do seem logical - but believe it or not, they are incorrect.

During acceleration to mach 6, your body would be under excessive g forces - only the flight suits are keeping you conscious. However, once cruising speed is reached, you would suffer no ill effects.

Think about this: if you sit in a normal sports car and floor the accelerator, you are pushed back against your seat, even while the car itself is only travelling 30-40 miles per hour. When you let off of the gas, and begin driving at a steady speed of, say, 70 miles per hour, you no longer feel the effect of the acceleration.

Consider an airline flight: during takeoff, acceleration pushes you down. Once you level off and reach cruising speed, the captain turns off the fasten seatbelts sign, and you can walk around, even though you are currently flying at several hundred miles per hour.

The same principle applies to the scramjet at mach 6. since your body is also travelling at mach 6, you will be able to move.


Posted on 2007-09-28 at 17:31:12.

Topic: A Cold Day in Hell Q&A
Subject: no airman...


FYI, the only personnel on the scramjet is the ranger team. Remember, this is a computer-driven flight.

Posted on 2007-09-27 at 14:13:38.

Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off Q&A
Subject: "Olan's gonna get us killed.."


LMAO @ Tann's post title! Sorry, guys... a knight's gotta do what a knight's gotta do.

Besides, Al is wanting a charge. He's gonna get it.

Maybe somebody should stay back to write the epitaphs?

Posted on 2007-09-27 at 14:12:02.

Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off
Subject: the measure of a man


The body of the fallen soldier is shock enough, but the scene outside is something from a nightmare - or from one of the darker visions a religious type might preach of a final judgement.

Arien has never feared magic in and of itself - having spent his life around Alloryen, the young man accepts it as much as he accepts swords and arrows. But the power on display in this sorcerous exchange currently underway chills the raven-haired knight to his very bones. Something that can fling tons of solid stone is nothing to be trifled with - how much less something that can deflect such a stone like no more than an annoying fly? Arien finds that he genuiniely fears these beings. The thought presents itself very loudly that there is no chance of success, that following this path will only lead to his own death, and probably those of his friends, as well.

Arien clutches the handle of his shield, and considers the rearing horse emplazoned upon it. His own father, while noble in deed and life, has always been more a gentleman farmer than a warrior. No, Arien has always followed in the footsteps of his grandsir, the man who bequeathed this very shield to him. The young knight need not ask what his grandsir would say - even knowing the futility of the situation, the old man would fix him in that iron gaze. "Boy," he would speak, "if your sister died in that tower, why are you standing here, telling me about it?"

Arien felt shame burning his cheeks - his grandsir would be right. Anyone could spout noble ideals, could be brave when there was nothing to fear, when they knew they would win. No, it took a man to stand up when things were at their bleakest, when all hope was lost.

He would be a man today.

Not for Alloryen, though he had vowed to rescue her. Not for grandsir, though the old man would expect nothing else. For himself.

The decision made, Arien felt a weight slip off of his shoulders. He would enter that tower - magic, monsters, and soldiers be damned. He would finsish the mission that Dwan had given them. He would rescue Alloryen.

Or he would die trying. Strangely, Arien felt nothing but peace.

Still, he was no fool. "Friends," he spoke quietly, "I will not - cannot - turn back. You have stood with me, have protected me, and I thank you for it. You have ventured further than I could ever have asked. But now, we may truly face death closer than anyone has the right to do - and still live to tell the tale. If you turn back, I cannot fault you."

With that, Arien breathed a silent prayer to Heironeus, gripped his sword tighter, and strode off through the ruined hallway to the tower, and whatever it held.

To his duty. To destiny.



Posted on 2007-09-26 at 22:05:11.
Edited on 2007-09-26 at 22:07:23 by t_catt11

Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off Q&A
Subject: hehe...


"Char-neese"!

I had considered editing, but didn't do so for the same reason.

By the way, I am working on an Arien post. Ho boy...

Posted on 2007-09-26 at 20:55:50.

Topic: A Cold Day in Hell Q&A
Subject: hehe


@ supposedly.

She told me she'd be posting soon.

Posted on 2007-09-26 at 17:27:01.

Topic: A Cold Day in Hell Q&A
Subject: whaaa?


Where the heck are my players? I can assume some actions, if need be, but a quick "hey, I'm too busy to post" PM would be nice.



Posted on 2007-09-26 at 13:41:42.

Topic: Star Wars: The Tides of Fate
Subject: conspiracies and shopping


Back at the mercantile, Dime is somewhat successful in his consumer pursuits, though it would appear that he is the only one. Brod is tight-fisted with his wares, at least when it comes to the "value" areas one might expect to find in used items. Either most items - especially weapons - seem to retain their resale value exceptionally well on Taanab, or the merchant is simply trying to rip people off.

Across the way, Caise finishes his conversation with the minister. If anything, the padawan's questions seem to make Rool even more nervious.

"Most ministers who retire have a habit of leaving Taanab in short order, many of them selling family homes with no apparent plans to return." He sighs.

"The last I heard, Minister Markos had moved to Pandath. That might simply mean that he is intending on chartering a flight away from here, but I don't take him as the running type. Then again, I wouldn't have expected him to quit the minstry so quickly, either."

Rool's face grows even more troubled. "Politics is a dirty business, young jedi. Ours is not the first government to see an unfriendly changing of the guard, as it were. Still, something feels... off about the whole thing. I am sorry that I cannot enlighten you further. I have no proof of a conspiracy, no real evidence of one, but were I to have to guess, I would guess that something more that politics is at play here."

Finally, Rool answers Caise's question about transport. "I would expect that your best bet would be to either jump one of the passenger freighters, or to charter a flight. Pandath has the only real spaceport on the planet, so that would be the place to look. Naturally, we don;t exactly have a booming tourist business, but the passenger ships come often enough that you should be able to find one headed at least in the right general direction."



Posted on 2007-09-20 at 18:46:18.
Edited on 2007-09-20 at 18:46:59 by t_catt11

Topic: A Cold Day in Hell
Subject: the whatzit?


May 8th, 2025
Inside the X-66 Scramjet - 0900

Corporal Bale stammers at the unexpected questions. "I... er... that is..." he blushed. "To be honest, ma'am, I have no idea what you are talking about. I *do* know that you need to strap in... have a great flight!" With that, the young man makes a quick exit, making sounds about "preflight tests" that need to be done.

After stowing all gear and strapping in, the team has nothing to do for the next half hour but to sit and stare at one another. Finally, there is a shuddering, a sensation of motion, and soon, the mammoth B-52 is airborne. the takoff goes without incident, and once the correct heading is reached, you spend another twenty minutes waiting for the ancient bomber to climb to the proper altitude and reach the pre-arranged waypoint.

Suddenly, a red light flashes on one of the forward control panels and you hear the thunderous roar of air. The X-66 slowly rises on a narrow rail and is lifted over the open cargo doors of the B-52. Abruptly, the alarm stops and your stomach lurches into your throat as the scramjet is dropped from the bomber. Before you can even react, the scramjet fires with a force that threatens to snap the safety harnesses. You struggle to remain conscious as the X-66 continues to accelerate, its jet screaming while the drone streaks across the stratosphere while gathering enough speed to reach Mach 6.

Half an hour into the flight, another red light begins blinking, but this time, is accompanied by an ominous-sounding audible alarm. There is something flashing on one of the computer screens, but you are strapped in too far away to read what it might say.


Posted on 2007-09-20 at 18:18:19.

 
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