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You are here: Home --> Forum Home --> Recent posts by Eol Fefalas
Topic: 1800 By Valentine's Day!
Subject: That's the way to do it...

...recruit friends... recruit neighbors... buy an RDINN Tshirt and wear it to your local gaming shop, comics store, convention, work, whatever...

The more Innmates the merrier, y'know?

Posted on 2010-01-06 at 17:40:26.

Topic: 1800 By Valentine's Day!
Subject: LOL

Entirely possible, Pit. Entirely possible.

+1 for Innmate enthusiasm.

Posted on 2010-01-06 at 15:41:23.

Topic: Paranormal Protection Agency - Q & A
Subject: Okay...

... I was hoping to have posted yesterday but ended up at urgent care last night and wound up at the Doc, today... Turns out I may have mumps of all things!!! What the hell???

Anyway... off work today, of course, and have nothing to do the rest of the day aside from plot and post, soooooooo.... Spider should be making his intro by this evening.

Apologies for the delay.

Posted on 2010-01-06 at 15:24:02.

Topic: The Fates of Fortune
Subject: You didn't even have to ask...

Nyx watched (both Cay and the gloomy slant-walled tavern) in silence as she glanced in the direction of the barmaid, placed her order, and then returned her eyes to the manifests and apparently pondered the estimations he had offered in their regard. When the sorceress finally spoke, still not having graced him with so much as the faintest up-tick of her tawny gaze, her voice was low and her words measured as if thoughts beyond those concerning the caravans writhed beneath the surface. The assassin imagined he knew what those underlying thoughts might be… chanced to think or, maybe, even wish that they might mirror those that lurked in his own mind… scowled faintly as he shoved those thoughts back again… Work to be done… preparations to be made…

“Yes,” Cay murmured in reply to his last statement, “that of course will prove to be difficult. I must admit I am a bit surprised we have not heard rumor of an arrest for the murder in our travels yet… Vadim must be stalling for some reason. Perhaps a journey to this Avenon will also be in order before long.”

He nodded. A sojourn to or, at least, toward Avenon in the shadow of one of these wagon trains was a thing he had considered, himself, and the difficulty in executing the other plans, as well. “Vadim is most assuredly stalling, else that boy would not only be imprisoned but likely hanging from the gallows already,” he answered, “As I said, it is becoming clear that there is more to all of this than simple trade or political maneuvering. Much more… and we’ll likely not know how much until we do venture to Avenon, ourselves…”

The serving-wench returned and Nyx fell silent as the woman plunked a hunk of crusty bread and a steaming bowl of stew down in front of Cay and followed that with a notably dusty bottle of wine and a pair of relatively clean, albeit roughly carved wooden goblets, all of which were deposited between them. He nodded, again, and waved the meaty woman away before she could think to ask if the pair needed anything else.

“Avenon is mainly mith’ganni territory is it not,” Cay asked, calling Nyx’s attentions back to her from the retreating barmaid, “As much as your people have a territory now…”

One black brow lifted a little at that and at the fact that she had finally lifted her gaze to meet his. “It used to be, yes,” he answered, reaching for the bottle and brushing the dust from its neck before filling the goblets, “My own clan ranged there in the days before I was born… before the Empire claimed it and...”

“I didn’t mean…”

Nyx lifted a hand and gave a faint shake of his head. “I know what you meant, Cayrimsa,” he said softly, sliding one of the goblets toward her and then lifting the other towards his lips, “My clan has been dead since I left Shanurdir and my race has been dying for longer than that. I would be surprised if enough of the other clans remained to even hold a piece of the steppes, let alone venture into what is now Avenon.” He shrugged faintly, and tipped the cup then but, over the rim of the crude goblet, his eyes stayed trained on hers as he sipped and didn’t stray even when he returned the vessel to the table and folded his hands in his cloak again. The hint of a smile danced on his lips as he allowed himself to relax against the back of the bench and swam in Cay’s lingering gaze.

“We will be busy then,” she said.

He simply nodded his agreement to that; his eyes not leaving hers even then.

“I know what you want to know,” Cay continued after a momentary silence, “I remember what you promised me…”

Another nod and a faint glint flashed in his eyes as the ghost-smile that had been toying with the corners of his mouth warmed a bit.

“I’m counting on you living up to it.” Her gaze dropped away, then, and returned to the scarred tabletop that filled the spaced between them.

Nyx couldn’t bring himself to take his eyes from Cay, though. His gaze was no longer transfixed by her returned stare; however, and he allowed himself to take in more than just her face… traced across her cheek, along the curve of her neck, and, moving lower, found the slender fingers of her hand unfurling from around a tiny square of paper that she had kept clutched there since they had made their exit from the Trade Bureau. His smile grew all the more when that hand stretched across the table to offer him that creased and sweat-stained treasure. His own hand slithered across the table to take the thing…

The witch actually wants you for something, it seems, Prien’s voice rumbled as Cay intercepted Nyx’s hand, pressed the parchment into his palm, and curled his fingers around it with her own, How very interesting… You notice, though, that, as I told you, it is because you bring death, hm? Not because you warm her heart? You should charge her for this commission…

The edge of the mith’ganni’s smile dulled a bit… She has paid enough, already… and better, I think, that she wants me for something rather than nothing… Besides, this was a thread I had already planned to sever…… but Cay hadn’t yet glanced up. It must have been the subtle flexing of his fingers beneath hers, then, or, perhaps, some other unnoticed reaction he had made that made her think that Nyx had been prepared to say something…

“Just let me finish what I have to say here before you go spouting off,” she said as her hand tightened ever so slightly around his, “I’m fine to start with, Nyx. It isn’t like I’m some blushing rose that hasn’t had someone try to force themselves on me before, so don’t even think about handling me with kid gloves here okay?”

Very well. He nodded… forced the fingers that were wrapped in hers to relax a bit… and reached for his wine with his free hand.

“What happened after you left is simply that I tried to delay any amorous thoughts he had, but I was unsuccessful. At least at first. I assure you he didn’t get what he wanted out of me…”

I knew this before you told me, melamin, Nyx smiled around the rim of the goblet as he poured another taste of the passable wine over his tongue.

“…Physical strength can easily be under minded with the correct grip and spell to go with it.”

That smile still played on his lips as Cayrimsa, also smiling now, lifted her gaze to meet his once again; “He should only just be coming out of the mental state I left him in, his physical state will take a bit longer to repair… and as for his ego…” The tip of her tongue appeared as she ran it between her teeth slowly. “I doubt he will be going to the guards with his complaint, my bet is he will return home as soon as he is able to lick his wounds and perhaps begin a less official inquiry to Eva.”

I should imagine so… Another near imperceptible nod, his eyes fixed to hers again, as he returned the wooden chalice to the table.

“Take care of him,” she said seriously, the smile melting from her lips, “And not like the last one. We are in enough trouble as it is right now; another heap of flesh in some alley with a blood trail back to your crypt is not what we need.” She leaned over closer to him and dropped her voice to a hushed whisper. “Make him suffer to whatever you want… but make him disappear afterwards. No trace… tomorrow morning I don’t want him to exist. No body, no blood, no screams… he is just gone. I don’t normally kill, but he does not deserve to live…”

Nor do any of these humans who are simple enough to relegate their women to a status only a little above their slaves and other properties, elen en cormamin, the mith’ganni’s yellow-eyes gleamed as they finally broke from the amber fires that burned in hers and followed her hand to where it came to rest atop a particularly crude image etched in the table’s surface, perhaps you are beginning to see this, yes? An amused expression drifted over his features and a light chuckle escaped his lips when Cay’s hand flared with eldritch fire for an instant and then drew away from where it had been, leaving only a blackened and smoldering imprint of her fingers where the phallic-monster had formerly been. There was no mistaking the meaning in that gesture and neither, he thought, was there any mistaking the unspoken meaning in the words that preceded it.

“Consider it done,” Nyx whispered in reply, his eyes returning to hers as his free hand came to rest atop the one of hers that still clasped over his other, “Come morning, Reg will be no more and nowhere, yes?” His gaze dipped away from hers after a moment longer, fell to where those three hands were entwined on the table and lingered there for another instant.

“Your dinner is cooling,” he said, his fingers feathering across both sides of her hers as he finally withdrew his hands… the one that now held Lemoyne’s address disappeared beneath the cloak and the other took up his cup of wine again… “I do not imagine it will taste very good gone cold.” He waited for her to draw back across the table before he released her from his gaze… watched her as she took her first, tentative bite of the stew she had been served… and, sipping at his wine, let his eyes wander a slow circuit around the hazy tavern.

After that scan verified that there had been no changes in patronage or position that should arouse concern, Nyx set the goblet aside again and let his gaze drop to where his fingers had, at last, unfolded the slip of parchment that Cay had handed him. There was another faint nod as he read what was printed on that paper, memorized the pertinent information, and then refolded the thing. “You will need to report to Dmitrova alone, again, tonight,” he said after he drained that first mug of wine and stretched the refolded piece of stationary towards the lopsided candle that provided meager light to their booth… the paper caught fire as his eyes flicked back in her direction and he dropped it into the now empty goblet where it was quickly consumed by the flames. “After last night, I do not imagine that he would expect me in your company, anyway. Most likely, he believes me to still be licking my wounds, yes?”

“Probably,” Cay smirked, looking up from the stew and fixing him with a look he couldn’t quite read, “You weren’t in the best of condition when he last saw you, after all… he won’t know I’ve seen you, at all, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

He nodded and the last embers of Lemoyne’s stationary that smoldered in his cup died with a hiss as Nyx refilled the goblet with another sampling of wine. “Best for us both that he doesn’t,” he said, swirling the ashes into the wine before taking another sip, “I do not think that Tselika was entirely convinced by either of our stories and if, as I believe, she is doing more for Vadim than playing fetch-the-point-ear, she might not have that difficult a time reminding him that you and I are more than expendable…”


It was near dusk when Nyx and Cay finally emerged from the murk and haze of Salty Mermaid and into the lengthening shadows of Drasnian twilight. A cool wind blew off the harbor, its briny tang carrying with it another scent that foretold rain showers in the making, and whirled up the wharf, tugging at the assassin’s cape and the sorceress’ gown as it blew the clinging smoke and smell of the tavern from around them. Yellow mith’ganni eyes instinctually tipped toward the heavens and sought out the faint, early-evening wink of Shipri’s Torch and, having pondered that first of the night’s stars for a moment, sank to regard the iron-dark streak that slashed across the far horizon and mist-like undulation of the orange and yellows above it where the sunlight still held the sky…

Rain within the hour, he estimated, and full storms before midnight if those clouds hold true.

Nyx‘s attentions let go of the skies and returned to Cay as they wandered away from the tavern. “It promises to be a good night for work,” he said, finally breaking the long but not necessarily uncomfortable silence that had hung between them for the last little while.

There had been things that he had wanted to say in that long stretch of quiet… things, too, that she wanted to say if he had read her eyes correctly the few times they had met and held his… but, given the events of the last days and the distractions he had found himself led into as a result… And the fact that you have work to do… work that you're anxious to do... he kept himself from speaking any of those things… And, all considered (unspoken words and restrained anxiousness to set upon Reg), he had been content to sit and sip away a second goblet of wine (and the ashen remains of Lemoyne’s stolen stationary along with it), watching the room and casting an occasional, lingering glance at the woman across the table as she finished her supper. He had waited, too, while she finished her first mug of wine… had poured her another and waited until she resigned the half-full cup to the table and nodded that she was finished. He was still content to linger with her as they made their way along the wharf, now, as well, but that favor she had asked of him... the promise I made her... called and so did numerous other tasks... "Where will I find you in the morning," he asked, "when I have finished with our friend?"

Posted on 2010-01-04 at 22:44:47.
Edited on 2010-01-04 at 22:47:17 by Eol Fefalas

Topic: Demonic Vending Machine
Subject: *griiiiiiiiiiiiin*

It spits out the Valentine's Day aisle at Wal-mart!

I feed it two turtle doves and a partridge in a pair of trees.

Posted on 2010-01-03 at 17:33:47.

Topic: The Voting Game
Subject: Because...

...they're scared of what'd happen if we showed up right away.

"What we gon' do t'night, Brain?"

Posted on 2010-01-03 at 17:29:37.

Topic: The One Word Game
Subject: Random or not...


Posted on 2010-01-03 at 17:27:55.

Topic: Demonic Vending Machine
Subject: It spits out...

...second verse, same as the first... chamber music style.

I feed it a scraped knuckle, a drumstick, and a blue moon.

Posted on 2010-01-03 at 17:27:04.

Topic: Good day all! Sorry I am late!
Subject: *grin*

Nah... ya taste like Innmate fare to me, Dakarta... not bad at all.

And, yep... drums! Bangin' on stuff! Let's all do a mean rendition of Paradise City and then tap dance in the lot, shall we?

And what's this about Meri warning people about me? I'm supposed to warn people about her... *ponders*... Strange things are afoot at the Circle K, dudes...

Posted on 2010-01-03 at 17:24:23.

Topic: Well Met!
Subject: Eol is always looking!

Good ta meetcha, Pit!

Regardless of what you may have been told, face masks and Ioun stones cannot stop the facelick!

Bribes, however, have been known to work on occassion.

Posted on 2010-01-02 at 14:12:13.

Topic: Hello New To This Site
Subject: No worries, Twilliam

My apologies as well, eh?

Just had to make sure that there wasn't any animosity running amok hereabouts, you know?

Posted on 2010-01-02 at 14:10:11.

Subject: Nappy Yew Hear!

*peels off Addy's facelick as it froze solid and chuckles at Tann's wedgie attempt cuz I's be goin' commando...*

Happy 2010, Innmates!

Posted on 2010-01-02 at 14:06:34.

Topic: Guess the Quote
Subject: Meh... Okay...

Winston Churchill, then... (But I know I've said it before, too. )

" All you have to do is to decide what to do with the time given to you. "

Posted on 2009-12-31 at 19:47:49.

Topic: ^ < V game
Subject: That's right! I kick my own @$$!!

^ Records those debates and posts them on You Tube

< Wrestles internally alllll the time

V Struggles to stay regular

Posted on 2009-12-31 at 19:42:08.

Topic: Guess the Quote
Subject: Well...

...I'm pretty sure that Eol is involved in Mr C's quote somewhere.

Posted on 2009-12-31 at 19:38:35.

Topic: The One Word Game
Subject: Uh...


(p.s. I'd catch both of you... or at least break your fall, anyway... I've been at the bottom of this cliff for years. )

Posted on 2009-12-31 at 19:22:40.

Topic: Corrupt a wish
Subject: Done...

You know... but you can't say... which kind of makes knowing pointless...

I wish every last Innmate a Happy New Year!

Posted on 2009-12-31 at 19:17:48.

Topic: The origins of the facelick
Subject: Epiphany!

Y'know... it occurs to me that everyone's all the time going "Eeeeeew! He licked me!!! Eol's weird!" but suddenly, those of you who have thus far avoided it come running around advertising my oversights... You secretly LIKE getting licked, don't ya?

Don't ya???

You can admit it!

Posted on 2009-12-31 at 01:18:39.

Topic: Greetings...
Subject: Yes indeed...

When proposing a new game and seeking players your best bet is to tack up a post in the Recruitment Forum. Once you've gathered your players, you'll want to start your actual game thread in the appropriate category (which, in your case, is likely going to be the Rules Based D&D forums, and you may also want to add a Q&A thread (to keep overlong OOC conversations and commentary, etc out of your game thread, of course).

Now, as to bold, italics, etc... those are allowed on the boards ya just gotta have a few handy html tags to make it happen... Our dear Innmate Scarab has created this thread specifically to show you how to do that.

Looking forward to seeing what you come up with for us, MD... Once again, welcome aboard.

Posted on 2009-12-30 at 14:33:43.

Topic: The origins of the facelick
Subject: Awww shucks....

Thanks, boss...

Posted on 2009-12-30 at 14:23:01.

Topic: Loaded Dice #40: the Wisdom of Han Solo
Subject: Dirty Santa

You're right Skari, "Dirty Santa" is a game of sorts... usually played at office parties, among gaming groups, etc... the way it works is, there are presents enough for the number of people playing and, as you no doubt saw in the strip, it is somehow determined which of the participants gets to go first. Once this is done, that first person gets to pick one of the presents and open it. Then, the next person has the option of "stealing" the first person's present or picking from amongst the ones that are yet unopened... If person #2 steals the present from person #1, person #1 then gets to pick another unopened present, I beleive... anyway, the game continues until all the presents have been opened and/or stolen... hilarity typically ensues.

I think I got that right, anyway...

Loved the strip, too...

"Let the Wookie win"

Posted on 2009-12-30 at 14:22:08.

Topic: Trilogy War Q/A
Subject: Yup,yup!

Halfling havok incoming.

Been trying to catch up with the tale, here, since Tann asked me back and believe I've gotten the gist of what's going on and all that... bear with me if I fumble a bit in the first post or two, though, hmm? ...I may hang back on my own posting until after Tann's update on the 3rd, but I'll have li'l Ulthy back into full-swing for you all, thereafter.

Posted on 2009-12-30 at 14:14:52.

Topic: Greetings...
Subject: Haha! Without warning at last!

Welcome to the Inn, Mithral! Apologies, of course, for the facelick being the first thing you're greeted with, but, lately, people seem to get warned about it before I can spring. I'm soooo happy to have gotten here first.

Anyhoo... random insanity and slobbery oddness aside... we're always glad to have new Innmates join our cast and crew. If there's anything that any of us can do to help you find your way around the site, answer questions about "posting conventions" or whatever, don't hesitate to give us a shout... drop a PM, post up a thread, whatever... I'm sure you'll find that most everyone around here, staff and regulars alike, are more than happy to lend a hand or offer an opinion.

Posted on 2009-12-30 at 13:53:06.

Topic: The origins of the facelick
Subject: Well done, G!

+1 for the pre-emptive facelick. You're a quick study, young padawan.

Posted on 2009-12-30 at 13:47:20.

Topic: The Fates of Fortune
Subject: Too close, perhaps...

There was an all too brief moment, like the flicker of a tallow flame standing against the monsoon that blew in from the seas, in which Nyx thought he might have gained some understanding of his dream… thought, perhaps, Cay might have understood it, too, when, as she finally took his hand and allowed him to help her to her feet, her eyes met his and whatever fragments of their respective souls might have remained danced together in that sputtering light… and, bidden by that understanding, lost in that moment, he sought to kiss her the way he truly wanted to. Their lips touched for only an instant and they shared a breath that, to Nyx at least, felt as if the shards of his blackened spirit merged with hers and offered the promise of a completeness that had eluded him for what must have been forever…

A gasp escaped from Cay, though, and her head turned suddenly away just as Nyx allowed his own eyes to close and committed himself to the pure honesty that this kiss might have spoken for him. Fate or fortune, either one, had, once more, had it’s say in regards to what he might have wanted and reminded him that it was still and, likely, forever out of his reach. The turning of her head was the dousing of that flickering tallow and her gasp the zephyr that had extinguished it. In a protest that he couldn’t stop the fingers that had just traced a tender course along her neck tensed as his lips, expecting to meet hers, were granted only her cheek.

“We should be going,” Cay whispered, slipping her hand from his… moving away from him, “it isn’t safe here.”

As I have tried, over and over, to tell you, Nyx, a stinging voice stabbed at his mind just as the jagged edges of his soul cooled and stabbed his heart, She doesn’t want you. She knows to whom you belong and would prefer to leave you there. Even if she did lower herself to have such feelings for an elf, you know as well as I that it would never be you…

The mith’ganni tried to ignore that voice. Tried, instead, to glean some small satisfaction from that last moment in which he felt her under his fingertips. The voice was right, though, it seemed… just as it had been trying to tell him… and the warmth that he had hoped to keep in the breaking of that moment cooled all too quickly as his hand fell away from her shoulder and clenched tightly as it disappeared back beneath his cloak.

She seeks to be something, mith’ganni... to have a meaning to her life beyond what you could ever possibly hope to offer… to endure… How can you give her that when, every where you go, death follows? You think that enduring, to her, means living in death the way you do? You are death as much as I am… and dead, yourself, as much as you are my harbinger… The edge of my axe, Shyndyn… that’s all you are… to anyone…

Nyx finally forced his own eyes open as his hearing registered that her step was nearing the mouth of the alley and found himself staring into the same stagnant puddle which had held Cayrimsa’s gaze before. He blinked at his reflection a few times; waiting for the inner voice that actually belonged to him to offer a protest or at least a counterpoint to Prien’s rationale... drew his cowl over his head when none was offered… The assassin forced his faintly scorned expression into a mask of grim acceptance before finally lifting to find her stepping back onto the promenade. He drew in a long, slow breath… held it, watching the way she moved… and released the breath and the thought at the same moment that the alley’s shadows let him follow after her. Rounding the corner where side street met thoroughfare, his fingers passed lightly over the silver-worked skull that buckled his belt as his hand moved to keep the flare of his cloak from exposing the kukri at his hip.

There is work to be done… and preparations to be made… think on that… Prien whispered as Nyx’s eyes worked the crown and the afternoon shadows of the street and he ghosted back into his “proper place” at her right.

As much as he hated to admit it to himself, Nyx actually found himself at least trying to heed his recently-forsaken god’s counseling as he followed Cay in silence out of the Imperial Quarter and progressively lower through the successive districts to the wharf. He tried. He tried by sorting the facts and details of this fiasco as he knew them in and trying to make those facts and details congeal into something that made sense. He tried by supposing maybe-facts and possibly-details based on things the he knew about both Bolstoii and Dmitrova. He tried by keeping his mind and his senses on their surroundings as they traveled. As much as he tried to keep his mind on the job, though, he failed… whether it was recalling some bit of information she had provided and losing track of that tidbit in the remembered sound of her voice or his gaze happening to fall upon her in his scanning of the streets and linger there for a second longer than it should have… his thoughts and senses invariably returned to her along the way. But he tried.

There is work to be done… preparations to be made.

When Cay led them, finally, into the dank, little quayside tavern known as the Salted Mermaid, Nyx had tried enough and was certain that his mind was back where it needed to be. When she slipped into a dimly lit booth in the back of the place, Nyx slid onto the bench on the opposite side of the table and, after seeking out and gesturing for a serving-wench, turned his gaze to the woman across the table and tried to feel nothing…

There is work to be done… preparations to be made.

Her eyes didn’t lift to meet his… a fact that made feeling nothing even more difficult… but she was quick to start the conversation and ensure that the subject remained on course.

“So then,” she said, studying the tabletop, “what did you find?”

A hand moved beneath his cloak and extracted the stolen documents from one of the inner pockets of his coat. “Aelion… or those in league with the boy, for there are surely more than he involved… are not interested in what may be on those caravans,” he said, his voice measured as he slid the papers across the table under into her downcast line of sight, “They are interested in where those caravans are going and which routes they take to get there. They are interested in where they can go and what they can sneak into and out of the wagon trains’ stocks.” His mottled yet still pale finger tips tapped the papers meaningfully before the hand slithered away and disappeared from the table. “They are looking for something. Dmitrova’s gotten wind of it, I would imagine, hence ordering us after the half-moon’s lover, and either wants whatever it is for himself or wants to turn the whole thing into an embarrassment for Styopa Bolstoii of such scale that Vadim’s maneuverings on the Lords holdings would go unnoticed until it was too late…”

His gaze was drawn away from her then by the approach of the serving-wench.

“Oi, an’ wha’ c’n I get fer th’ two o’ ye, then,” the heavy-set and haggard looking woman queried, wiping her thick hands off on a stained and greasy rag as she thudded to a stop at the table’s edge.

“Wine,” Nyx ordered dryly. The alabaster fingers emerged from the folds of the cloak and slid two silvers towards the woman; “Good wine,” he added as the hand disappeared once more and his moonlight gaze flicked back to Cay, “and whatever the lady is having.”

“Aye, good wine ‘tis, luv,” the silvers had disappeared from the tabletop and into the wench’s cleavage even before her smoke and fume reddened eyes turned to Cay, “an’ fer ye, miss?”

He sat silently, watching her as she spoke to the waitress, and remained silent for a long moment after the human woman had trudged away from the table, his gaze still soaking the sorceress in as her own eyes, once more, failed to meet his and fell instead to the papers before her.

“This is all only my theory, yes,” he said after a moment, that characteristically self-assured, razor-edged grin finally fashioning itself on his lips, “We shall need to speak to this Aelion, I think… and I may need to get into Vadim’s, as well…”

Posted on 2009-12-30 at 01:45:02.


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