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Topic: Hidden Corruption Q&A
Subject: he does exist!


I was getting worried there, Blackthorn!

If we need to edit my post of how the evening ended, just let me know. 



Posted on 2018-08-14 at 14:35:24.

Topic: Hidden Corruption Q&A
Subject: put the mouse back in his house!


Nobody here wants to see your "inner bard", okay???



Posted on 2018-08-14 at 12:09:47.

Topic: Running a Game Advice for GMs/DMs
Subject:


Egad.  Why would it not be the responsibility of the storyteller to keep the story straight?

Why is it so alien to make your own story - especially one that features the players as the protaginists in a long arc?

Oi.



Posted on 2018-08-14 at 12:08:47.

Topic: Hidden Corruption Q&A
Subject:


Sounds like a business opportunity to me!



Posted on 2018-08-14 at 11:54:24.

Topic: Hidden Corruption Q&A
Subject:


Well, redact my breastplate statement.

But I'm still seeing two rounds.



Posted on 2018-08-14 at 11:20:39.

Topic: Running a Game Advice for GMs/DMs
Subject:


That is a freaking cool idea.  No way I can do it when my wife is home, though... she would skin me. 



Posted on 2018-08-14 at 11:19:46.

Topic: RDINN Feature Updates/ Suggestions/ Bugs
Subject:


that's a good one, Brom.  Let me look into it.



Posted on 2018-08-14 at 11:18:19.

Topic: Hidden Corruption Q&A
Subject: armor


Per the PHB it's one round for leather armor, two for chain - if you have help.  Double that with no help. 

Ch'dau's breastplate would be one round, another for the bracers.



Posted on 2018-08-14 at 11:17:16.

Topic: Hidden Corruption Q&A
Subject: to arms?


So... assuming that most/all of you plan to rush downstairs, what exactly does "rush" entail?

People typically do not sleep in armor, especially when enjoying the safety of an Inn behind town walls.  Are ya'll armoring up before you go downstairs?



Posted on 2018-08-14 at 10:57:43.

Topic: RDINN Feature Updates/ Suggestions/ Bugs
Subject:


Ayrn, that should be doable.



Posted on 2018-08-13 at 23:52:26.

Topic: The Corruption Hidden Beneath the Surface...
Subject: moving on...


12th Sempore (Fallday), 453 E.R.
The Nicked Shill Inn, village of Crandel


An hour or two after midnight, Ch'dau is the first to be awoken by a banging noise from downstairs. Less than a minute later, Kithran - in her room - is awoken by the same. Then, there is a scream.

The others quickly awaken. There are fearful voices downstairs, and the banging continues - as if someone is trying to force their way into the inn.

Arancon is the last to awaken - naked and alone in Davena's room. There is no sign, however, of the blonde woman or her possessions - or of Garn, for that matter.



Posted on 2018-08-13 at 23:36:42.

Topic: Hidden Corruption Q&A
Subject: bump


We are at a week since Arancon's last post.  I figured that it was reasonable to expect him to go along with the events in my post; if that is not the case, then you can tell me otherwise and we can edit.  In the interest of furthering the story, however, I have posted.  Another post is coming.



Posted on 2018-08-13 at 23:08:26.

Topic: The Corruption Hidden Beneath the Surface...
Subject: plans for the evening


It appears that once Arancon changes the subject, Davena is suffiently mollified.  The bladesinger's tales - and the glasses of wine - seem to serve to relax the blonde woman, who asks quite a few very insightful, intelligent questions.  Whatever her other interests may be, it is clear that she is telling the truth regarding her academic interests.  As the conversation wears on, Davena's body language shows more and more physical interest in Arancon.

Eventually, Davena kills a glass of wine - her fourth(?) of the evening - before placing her soft, warm hand atop Arancon's. "I have some texts in my room," she speaks, double meaning doing a poor job of hiding between every word, "and I would like your thoughts on them. Perhaps, lord, I could persuade you to come and give them a detailed inspection?"


As well spoken as she is, the woman likely does have some sort of historical texts in her room, but even the most obtuse can recognize the actual invitation being offered.

OOC: assuming a positive response by Arancon...

A sly smile spreads across the blonde woman's face as she takes Arancoon's hand and stands. She looks around the table. "If you will excuse us," she speaks.

Davena and Arancon take a few steps before Garn catches up to them. The couple stops, and the woman shakes her head slightly. The bodyguard leans in close, a fierce expression on his face, and he whispers something to her.

Davena's blue eyes flash with fiery anger, and she hisses a retort easily loud enough for everyone to hear. "Mind your place, Garn Kargest! Who I share my bed with is my business, and no one else's! Leave me now!"

Garn's shoulders slump and his cheeks burn crimson. The warrior spins on his heel, ignores the others at the table, and stalks off towards the bar in apparent search of something stronger than ale.

As he leaves, the blond woman's cheeks color slightly with embarrassment, but the anger evaporates as she flashes a sheepish smile to the table. Then, she and the bladesinger head toward the stair, hand in hand.


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


Upstairs, Davena leads the sylvari warrior into her room and closes the door. She turns to face him and cocks her head to one side. "As for the texts... I would love to peruse these with you, but there are other matters I would rather attend to first."


With that, most of her clothing falls to the ground.


She takes a step towards the bladesinger, a crooked grin on her face. The term "exquisite" would not be out of place when describing her body, though a portion of Arancon's brain does idly note that the silvered scars from her face continue down her neck, across her chest, and down to her belly; however, the scars easily appear in their greatest concentration upon both of her breasts, centered around the nipples. It is clear that some years ago, this beautiful creature must have endured some sort of unspeakable torture. Be that as it may, she seems to not be self conscious in the slightest; she stands straight and tall, her natural assets proudly on display as her gaze fixes the warrior.


As the rest of her clothing falls to the ground and she advances further, Arancon discovers that most of the blood seems to have been diverted from his brain, causing deep analysis to become impossible. His own clothing falls away, her warm, soft body embraces him, and for a time, conscious thought becomes astoundingly unimportant.



Posted on 2018-08-13 at 23:06:46.

Topic: Hidden Corruption Q&A
Subject: hrm


Blackthorn, I need a post from you to move forward.  Or I can assume...



Posted on 2018-08-13 at 08:55:02.

Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject:


I'll post a couple more times.  Haha, there will be a court martial. 



Posted on 2018-08-11 at 11:48:22.

Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty Q&A
Subject: okay


Hey folks,

Rather than blow by blow everything, I felt like a narrative approach was better.  I hope that I dropped enough nuggests there to allow you creative folks the opportunity to fill in around them, to share as much as you would like on what led us to the point of my post.  If you have questions or want me to help with details, feel free to post here - or shoot me a PM. 



Posted on 2018-08-09 at 16:51:35.

Topic: Star Trek: the Edge of Duty
Subject: talk, talk, talk


Stardate 2365.02.11
Gamera Spaceport, Auditorium A  - 14:12


Silas sat at the center of three tables arranged in an open "U" shape on a raised dias; the Kuldar delegation was seated to his left, with the Rytain to his right.  Rows of seats in curved aisles faced the dais, with each row farther back slightly elevated above the row on front so as to give clear sight lines to the central stage area.  Tochi Zai was in the chair immediately to his right; Bethany Farr sat to his left, her face anxious.  All but two of the security personnel from the Peregrine stood watch around the auditorium or in the corridors outside.  The full compliments of the diplomatic teams from the two opposing sides were present - along with a few governmental officials and the like - though several empty chairs at the Rytain table were telling.


So far, it had been bedlam.  Each side accused the other of all sorts of crimes; insults and threats flew through the air unabated.  Among the most vociforous was ambassador Threel, who gleefully levied every accusation under the sun.  Drake found himself wishing that he had let the battle take place, and instead flown his ship in literally any other direction - perhaps even into the center of the Gamera star.  He had expected grandstanding and posturing, but this was entirely intolerable.


The PADD on the table in front of Drake flashed with an update, and the Captain turned his attention to it, eager for any distraction.  After a few moments, however, his visage turned dark and he rose to his feet.


"Excuse me, esteemed dignitaries..." he began, but the debate had devolved to shouting, and he was ignored.  Silas loudly cleared his throat. 


"Pardon me, but I would like..." he tried again, to no better effect.


His jaw set, Silas straightened his back, drew in a breath, and bellowed from his diaphragm.  "SIT DOWN AND SHUT YOUR MOUTHS!"


Gasps rose from around the room, but a hush fell over the auditorium and almost everyone on the dais complied. 


"What is the meaning of this, Commander Drake?" sneered Ambassador Threel in response.  "We are no longer aboard your vessel, you lack the authority to..."


"BELAY THAT!" Drake roared in interruption. "Ambassador Threel, you will be silent and remove yourself from these proceedings!  I have had enough of your obstructionism.  These talks will continue with another member of you government taking your place."


The Rytain official blanched for a moment, before chuckling.  "You have no standing here, you cannot..."


"I said, BE QUIET!" Silas roared.  The Peregrine's CO held up his PADD, keyed it, and the contents were simulcast to the holographic displays.  "You will all note the report here by Lieutenant Reid.  We did, in fact, recover five survivors from the Stormspike.  Four committed suicide, but the fifth is sedated in our sickbay.  All five - as well as another eleven dead aboard the Stormspike - are Rytainian citizens."  Drake paused as titters echoed through the chamber.  "You will further note the transmission logs recovered from the Stormspike, with coded messages sent back and forth to Ambassador Threel aboard my ship.  You, sir," the Captain continued with a finger pointed at the Rytainian, "have aided and abetted terrorists to kill your own people for the purpose of subverting these peace talks."


Silas took a deep breath as a deep hush fell over the auditorium.  "Petty officer," he ordered one of the secuirty personnel, "remove the Ambassador from these proceedings and hold him until his own government takes charge of him."


Threel protested the validity of the charges, as well as the right to arrest him in such a situation.  "You are but a Commander!" he shouted.  "You have no authority over the ranking diplomat of a foreign power in such a negotiation!  You cannot touch me, I..."


"You are incorrect," Silas interrupted flatly.  "As the commanding officer of this battle group, I am in charge of all Federation interests in this system.  As we are absent a diplomat, according to Starfleet regulations, I have complete plenipotentiary powers when it comes to contact with foreign governments.  Make no mistake, Ambassador - my word here is, in fact, Federation law.  You have acted against Federation interests, colluded to damage a Federation starship, and endangered the lives of Federation personnel.  As a threat to operational security, you have no diplomatic immunity, and I hereby place you under arrest."


Petty Officer Brady stepped to remove Threel, and bedlam erupted again.  There was shouting, and gesturing, and general chaos befitting a mob more than a displomatic assembly.  The Kuldar were well into the process of storming out, accusing the Rytain government of bad faith.  The Rytain acted is if they might resist the arrest.  Silas took another deep breath. 


"BE SILENT, THE LOT OF YOU!" he bellowed.  "We came here to negotiate a peace, and that is what we will do!"


"Surely, you cannot expect us to speak when they have betrayed the peace so?" Demanded a Kuldarian attache.  "And beyond that, you cannot force us to actually negotiate..."


"I can, and I will!" Drake asserted.  "The Rytainian government is not behind this - we have listed to their transmissions.  They believed this to be an attack by the Kuldar.  This is a hate group here that wishes to see peace fail.  If you walk away from these talks now, they succeed."


For a brief moment, Silas saw the smallest flicker.  "Why do your two peoples fight?" he continued.  "Can any of you even remember?  I have studied your texts - I see no root cause for this war.  I see two neighbors who fight because they have always fought, over some petty squabble no one can recall!  How many more of your children will grow up as orphans - or not grow up at all - merely because the two of you cannot move beyond how it has always been between you?"


It was an opening.  Not a large one, but it was in fact there - and Drake took it.  He hammered ahead, threatening, cajoling, prodding both sides. 


Somehow, some way... it was enough.  The details took hours.  It was a lengthy, torturous process... but at long last, an accord was ratified by all three parties.


All hostilities between the Kuldar and Rytain were ceased.  A framework for peace that both sides could live with - if not necessarily celebrate - was hammered out.  The Federation gained access to the dilithium - at the price of some extensive promises for advanced replicator and medical technology from the Federation. Silas was fairly sure those concessions would earn him a reprimand at the very least, but in the face of his looming court martial, he could not seem to summon forth the energy to care. 


The various representatives posed for the holovids, made a show of signing their names to the various documents, and peace was officially established - even if that peace had come under varying degrees of threats of violence.

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


When it was over, Silas found himself numbly wandering the corridor back towards his ship.  The thought occured to him that this would be his legacy; a peace treaty between two backwater worlds. 


But even as he did his best to mnimize the accomplishment, he could see Michelle's face, almost feel her disapproving stare.  She would have pointed out that it didn't matter how big the empires were - the fact was that his efforts, and the efforts of his crew, had spared lives from the potential battle today, and from preventing potential battles in the future. 


If his legacy was that even one person - let alone hundreds, perhaps thousands - would have the chance to live a full life that might not have otherwise had that chance... wasn't today worth it?


At that moment, he came across a viewport with an almost perfectly unobstructed view of the Peregrine, and the Captain was grabbed by a bitter melancholy as it hit him that he would never again lay eyes again on his ship that he could call his own.  Jacobs wouldn't even have to make an effort to see to that - the computer logs of his actions this day would be far more than enough. 


Ah, well.  Perhaps he would get a penal colony cell with a nice view. 



Posted on 2018-08-09 at 16:49:50.
Edited on 2018-08-09 at 17:01:22 by t_catt11

Topic: Hidden Corruption Q&A
Subject:


"Hooonnneeeyyyyy.... my elf has to get his freak on!  Can't it wait?" 



Posted on 2018-08-09 at 15:39:53.
Edited on 2018-08-09 at 15:48:16 by t_catt11

Topic: Hidden Corruption Q&A
Subject: a heads up


Please note that due to completely ghosting us, GrinNoCat has been removed from this game.  Ayrn has expressed interest, and will be assuming he character of Midge.  However, he will be making some edits to the character - expect some details to be retconned. 

Since Midge has had very little interaction with the group, I don't see this as an issue in the slightest.



Posted on 2018-08-09 at 10:50:36.

Topic: Hidden Corruption Q&A
Subject: agreed


I'm enjoying the Blackthorn posts a lot - we're just RPing the situation is all. 



Posted on 2018-08-09 at 09:40:29.

Topic: The Corruption Hidden Beneath the Surface...
Subject: a shorter perspective


The halfling sorceror found himself more or less alone with his own thoughts.  Neither Atharis nor Cedric seemed perticularly communicative, and Midge had long since learned that this was the default behavior for Kith.  As the bustle returned to the Inn, Midge elected to focus more on the ale - which wasn't half bad.  Not great, but not bad.

Arancon did provide somewhat of a diversion.  While Midge was no expert in sigie mating rituals, the blonde human woman did seem to be all but waving her smallclothes in the sylavri's face, but for some reason, he seemed more interested in worrying at the reasons behind her and her bodyguard having not been attacked - much like a hairy hound with a soup bone, he simply seemed unable to leave it alone.  She ignored it for a time, but it did seem to eventually rub her the wrong way, as it were, and the bladseinger finally seemed to realize it.

"I apologise, my lady. I did not mean to imply that I wished you any harm, or that you were somehow responsible for those attacks. I am merely puzzled, and trying to figure out the purpose of these events. I fear for the residents of this town and the surrounding areas, for surely they have not seen the last of these attacks." he offered by way of apology and explanation.

Midge snorted into his fourth mug as Arancon tried desperately to extricate his foot from his mouth.  "Oriana's teats, man! " the mage exclaimed.  "The lady wants you to tell her tales of your bravery and adventures.  So tell her some tales!"

He cut his eyes at Davena.  "You should have seen him with the bandits a fortnight ago.  Three of their swords against his one - but it was they who had no chance."  The cid catches Arancon's gaze, then subtly leans his heard toward the blonde woman. 

Come on, man!  he mentally admonishes the warrior. Take the opening!



Posted on 2018-08-08 at 14:09:50.
Edited on 2018-08-08 at 14:16:46 by t_catt11

Topic: The Corruption Hidden Beneath the Surface...
Subject:


Davena smiles self depreciatingly.  "I am no adventurer - I am a scholar.  I do have some business interests here and there, and yes, we are bound for Tenimere - as I said, I have a trade contact there.  There is much knowledge in the world that is handed down in story, but stories change over time; I prefer to document what I find.  Normally, I would administer my business from afar, but this contact seems to think that they have found something I might be interested in seeing in person, and I trust them enough to make the trip."  She pauses.

"Garn, here, is a solider in the employ of my family.  He is my sworn bodyguard, though he sometimes forgets his place." the last is spoken with a pointed look at the man, who snorts and takes another swig of ale. 


The blonde-haired begins to turn solemn.  "I cannot answer to you, mellon, why we were not accosted on the road.  Perhaps the larger group made more noise than the two of us; I truly cannot say.  To be honest, I am beginning to wonder... are you angry that we were safe, while others were not?  Are you blaming us for their troubles?  Are you suggesting that Garn and I are somehow responsible for what happened to those poor folk on the basis of us traveling the same road?"

As she speaks, Davena straightens, pulling away from Arancon. 



Posted on 2018-08-07 at 15:50:04.

Topic: The Corruption Hidden Beneath the Surface...
Subject: elsewhere


The back of the acolyte's shaved head was all that the older woman could see, what with the man's face pressed to the stone floor like that.  "Get up," the senior snapped irritably.  "Cease your simpering, and tell me of the Ritual."


The acolyte's face came up as he assumed a more normal kneeling position, though he was careful to never make eye contact, instead keeping his gaze cast downward.  "I'm sorry, mistress," he replied, "but the Ritual has failed again." 


"WHAT???" the woman bellowed.  Striding forward, she drove the back of her hand into the acolyte's face, causing his neck to snap to the side and nearly knocking him off of his knees.  "What went wrong this time?" she deamanded.


Stinging, the acolyte fought to keep fear out of his voice.  "There was nothing we cold do, mistress!" he nearly wailed.  "It seemed to be gaining strength, truly!  But even as it waxed, she waned.  She succumbed, and it perished less than a day after.  There was nothing we could do!"


The woman shrieked in fury, spewing epithets that made the young man flinch.  "This cannot be!" she railed. "If it does not embrace both sides of its nature, the Ritual can never be completed!  Now our efforts is for naught, and we will be forced to begin anew!"


"I know, mistress!  I'm sorry, mistress!" The kneeling man was nearly panting in terror. "We tried, mistress!"


The young man flinched as the older woman laid a hand on his shoulder, but this time, her gesture was comforting.  "Yes," she murmured from behind the acolyte.  "I'm sure that you did." 


At first, it was a sting only.  Then, it was a burning.  As the acolyte's hands came up to his throat, the molten agony spread all across his gullet, throbbing up through his temples, as a ringing sound filled his ears.  His eyes went wide as his fingers came away dripping.  The young man slumped to the ground, gaping, his mouth trying to work, though death was already upon him; no sound beyond a choking gurgle would come.


The mistress stared down as the light went from his eyes and the puddle bloomed into full crimson radiance beneath the body.  The gleaming knife was held reverently in front of her, though the light did not reflect from the last few inches of the blade.  Casually, she murmured, seemingly to herself.


"The Dark One accepts your sacrifice."



Posted on 2018-08-07 at 14:27:54.
Edited on 2018-08-07 at 14:56:20 by t_catt11

Topic: The Corruption Hidden Beneath the Surface...
Subject: more dinner conversation...


Arancon is extremely polite and well mannered, but as the conversation with Davena develops, he does pursue a couple of topics - the first of which is wondering how she and Garn had no issues with the undead, while the pilgrims had been harried the past four nights. 

The blonde woman grows thoughtful at this line of questioning.  "Truly," she states in a level tone, "I do not know why were were not harried when those poor travelers were.  Perhaps these fiends were but minions of some fell power, and they were directed to harm the Lysorans, and we were not worthy of their attention?  Perhaps Garn's strong arm and blade made us a tougher target than the common folks you described?  Perhaps the gods were simply kind, and we escaped their attention?"  she shakes her head, hair fairly floating about her as she does.  "We never came across these pilgrims on the road; perhaps they were unfortunate enough to have enough of a lead on us as to attract their attention, while we remained unaware?  I cannot say."

Garn, for his part, ignores the conversation utterly - or makes it a point to appear as if he is doing so.  He eats, drinks, and scans the crowd from time to time, and makes no effort to engage anyone in talk of any sort.

The second line of questioning from Arancon - as to how the women has recognized him as a bladesinger - causes Davena's blue eyes to dance with amusement.

"Watching you, lord?  Hardly.  Call it a lucky educated guess, if you like," she teases.  "It's rare enough to meet a sylvari this far from home... unless perhaps, one is in Coria.  It follows that any of your people who thus travel would either be merchants, emissaries, or adventurers.  You are not dressed like a trader or a diplomat, and you keep the company of a colorful band.  That says 'adventurer' to me.  You do not wear the robes of the arcane or a symbol of the gods... so you are no wizard or priest."

Her grin is slightly crooked. "Of the sylvari warriors I have met, all have carried a bow; it is fairly synonomous with your folk, is it not?  Yet you have no bow, no quiver.  Your armor is exquisitely worked - not plain like Garn's! - and the pommel of your blade is likewise ornate.  And you carry yourself, lord, with such grace and presence as I cannot recall witnessing in person."

Her cheeks flush, as she seemingly realizes that she is gushing.  "I mean no offense; if I have caused it, I sincerely apologize.   The exploits of your order are legendary, so to meet you in the flesh is... exciting."



Posted on 2018-08-07 at 13:45:47.
Edited on 2018-08-07 at 13:50:43 by t_catt11

Topic: The Corruption Hidden Beneath the Surface...
Subject: meeting of the minds?


Midge puts down an impressive amount of food for such a small fellow.  Stew, bread, cheese, ale - all of it seems to agree with him quite nicely.

When the warrior priest asks about the meeting, the cid shrugs.  "We don't have a set meeting, exactly.  I have a summons, more like - meet with Jerrin Balewood here in Crandel, and to make haste.  That's all I really know."

Looking around the common room, the litltle wizard muses.  "Most little towns like this don't take kindly to outsiders wandering around at night, so I figure that it's best to look for him in the morning.  It shouldn't be too hard, I can't imagine there are lots of blue-robed mages running around in a country town."



Posted on 2018-08-07 at 09:53:23.
Edited on 2018-08-07 at 09:59:48 by t_catt11

 
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