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Topic: RDINN Feature Updates/ Suggestions/ Bugs
Subject: You betcha, Shaithis! :)
That's my job, that's what I do... So sayeth Conway Twitty, amen. 
Posted on 2008-05-20 at 20:15:43.
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Topic: RDINN Feature Updates/ Suggestions/ Bugs
Subject: Work around for Shaithis
Or.... you could do it the overly complicated Eol way by doing this:
- Login and go to the thread/post in question
- Open a new browser window (usually Ctrl+N in most cases) to pop up a second, identical window to the one you were just viewing
- Click on the Reply link from the new window and, VOILA, original post to which you're replying in one browser window and your reply post in the works in another!
Or, there's the super easy Eol-method (aka The Captain Backup Approach) where you just copy every single post to a Word Document (or whatever app you may use for that sort of thing) and read, reply, copy/paste to the Inn. 
Not a perfect solution, either way I suppose, but, being the help desk dude what I am, I had to suggest the workarounds, now, didn't I?
Posted on 2008-05-20 at 19:49:18.
Edited on 2008-05-20 at 19:50:10 by Eol Fefalas
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Topic: Corrupt a wish
Subject: And ka-boosh! So mote it be!
You do have a way to keep track of all of your posting games, unfortunately, it's tied in with the 'free women's clothes' thing and, as such, your new method of keeping track of all your posting games is via a dress made out of post-its, categorized, indexed, and arranged by thread. The really bad thing about it is that all of your favorite threads are in...errr...rather sensitive areas of your new apparel and, so, replying to posts for some of them might be a wee bit uncomfortable... especially if you're accessing the Inn from say a public wi-fi hotspot, the library, etc...
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I wish Lysk would RP on occassion... I miss her characters. 
Posted on 2008-05-20 at 19:33:23.
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Topic: Blatantly Obvious Lies
Subject: Ummm...
...because it's far more PC to call someone a 'Mothergrugger' than the alternative.
Just to satisfy the recent curiosity; why shouldn't we feed the Grugg?
Posted on 2008-05-20 at 18:48:28.
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Topic: Hi all.
Subject: *bites tongue*
Must not...*scrunches eyes shut* ...say what... I'm thinking...out loud...*whacks self in hand with stapler*
OW!!!
Hey! It worked! I censored what i was about to say before I said it!
WooHooo!
Posted on 2008-05-20 at 17:32:03.
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Topic: The Trilogy War
Subject: LMHAO (Laffin' My Halfing A$$ Off)
As Divot lounged by the fire, not far from Halia, and listened to the others puzzle over how to look for a thing without actually looking for it, he couldn’t help but chuckle as the conversation flew from one to the next. As serious as the topic was – because it was gravely important that they find the entrance to Drow Mountain – the solutions that everyone seemed to be coming up with would have likely sounded absolutely ridiculous to normal folk. They were all good thoughts and ideas, of course, and Divot was right pleased to be in the company of such wise and thoughtful folk, but he just couldn’t help but find the humor in the banter.
“To find what you seek, without searching for it is hard,” Halia said, “Perhaps if we simply camp here and forget that we are searching, that we will find it. Or perhaps if we think hard that we need somewhere to hide, it will appear. I have heard much on hidden places wishing to stay hidden, but if we can fool it, perhaps we have found our advantage.”
Divot, a huge smile on his face, looked up from sharpening his axe and winked at Halia; “Ye could be right, luv,” he snickered, “all of ye could fer what I can figger. What’s got me twiddlepated, though, is how’s come it seems that jus’ me an Ulthy’s been able to catch a peek at it and what’s tha’ mean?
Does only Halflings get ta even have a chance o’ findin’ the blinkin’ hole inna dirt or is it mebbe that we’s just s’posed ta be keys fer the fargin’ thing?” He shrugged, still grinning broadly, and looked from face to face before turning his eyes to the mountain for a long moment. “ever’bodies got their idees as ta how we might find this thing wi’out lookin’ fer it an’ I can’t say’s that I find fault wi’ any o’ what I’s heared so far… but damned if’n I can say which o’ th’ idees is th’ best one ta run with.”
When his gaze broke free of the mountain and returned to the group gathered around the campsite, Divot could only shrug and grin impishly. “Rassafrassin shimmerin mirror nondoor anyhoo,” he chortled, playfully nudging Halia, “Mebbe if we jus’ lights the fur-foots on fire an’ makes ‘em walks sideways up th’ blinkin’ mountain, an' don't look fer th’ bloody door, we'll just stumbles right thru it, eh?”
The scrappy little tunnelrat broke out into uncontrolled laughter at that point, practically doubling over at the image he’d just called up in his own mind – himself and Ulthy, blindfolded and smoking for all they were worth, sidestepping up the mountain with the others following along behind, doing their best not to look like they were looking for anything; “Follow me,” he laughed, “I don’ know where we’s goin’ but we’ll get there if we don’ look!”
((OOC: All right, couldn’t help myself there, folks… The conversation about how not to look for something you’re looking for just really tickled Divot and, since he’s really got no other ideas than what’s been suggested so far, ya get the li’l bugger tellin’ himself jokes… *shrugs*… Once he’s had his laughing fit, Divot’s more than happy to go along with whatever the consensus might be… but likes the smoke idea a really whole big bunch o’ lots… *nodnodnodnodditynodnod*))
Posted on 2008-05-20 at 17:17:12.
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Topic: Q&A: The Return Of The Prodigal Son
Subject: Ahh...
...and those, too, were Spider's thoughts on the matter. "We're here to investigate the disappearance of beggars from the city and, yet, we're being directed to the mountains... hmmm... I'll wager that someone already knows who/what might be abducting the hopeless souls and, apparently, where he/she/they/it may be found... Must be that we're here to find the whys, return those that matter, and, if necessary, stop the process by whatever means necessary..."
Now, from some PMs I had going back and forth with Flirty re: all of this (and, it's info Spider would likely share with the party once they're 'alone') is that Thyatis 'rolls up it's streets' at night - no one but no one appears to be outside after dark - and, very few people are willing to talk about the disappearances other than to say that they've been happening, it's horrifying, etc...
Way to be twitchy, Nomad... the mission we're on may not be precisely the mission we enlisted for.
Posted on 2008-05-20 at 15:25:28.
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Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Oh great...
...so I'll be able to see myself gettin' shot but won't be able ta do nothin' but drool on my-ruttin-self! Fan-friggin-tastic!
'Least it ain't Reavers. 
P.S. I am positive... positive that Sam ain't gonna be a happy camper in the next few posts.
Posted on 2008-05-20 at 14:51:55.
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Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Thanks...
...once I slapped the 'he'p me' call together, the rest just kind of fell into place around it.
I can't wait for the calvary, either... 'specially since I can't seem to keep a character conscious during combat in one of your games.
Posted on 2008-05-20 at 14:07:53.
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Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Typos?
Do we still make those? 
I thought the invention of White Out took care of all that... don't tell me I've been drinking a bottle of the stuff per day for the past 25 years for nothin'!
Posted on 2008-05-20 at 12:53:03.
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Topic: Voyages of Rocinante - Serenity/Firefly RPG
Subject: A date gone bad
“Sam, honey? You comin’,” Brigit’s sugared voice sawed Dash’s attentions away from scrutinizing the loose knot of men who seemed to be watching the bank, “Like I said, we best hurry.”
“Yeah,” Sam smiled - the anxious feeling in his gut twisting the expression into more of a grimace, maybe – as his eyes flicked back to the damn-fine schoolmarm. “Yeah,” he repeated, chancing one more quick sweep of the potential baddies before as he hurried his pace and tried to keep himself between Brigit and quickly figured fire-arcs from any one of the bad men’s weapons, “I reckon we best…”
“Meep-meep!”
Dash’s hand fell to the butt of his pistol when the coach modified mule came around the building, and the thing was a hair’s-breadth away from being drawn from the holster when the driver stopped in front of the bank and beeped the horn.
“Hunt!? Is that you,” Brigit beamed at the elderly driver, “I almost didn’t recognize you all dressed up like that.”
The sound of Dash’s avenger dropping back into its holster was muffled by the slightly shakey sigh that passed the pilot’s lips. Brigit’s recognition of the man had just saved him a bullet to the brainpan and, likely, saved Sam a visit to the local lawman’s pokey for opening up on the streets. Dash’s gaze swept back to check the positions of the men as Brigit made nice over the Coach driver’s hand-me-down suit.
“This is Sam Dash,” Brigit’s voice snatched his attentions again and brough his eyes back to her, “Sam, this is old Hunt. Sam here is the pilot for the transport that landed early today.”
“Pleased to meet you Sam.” The old man smiled, offering a friendly nod.
“Back at ya, Ol’ timer,” Sam nodded, a twitchy tinged grin curling up one corner of his mouth. “Right fetchin’ set o’ duds ya got there,” he added, noting that the man seemed to be a might proud of his ill-fitting formal wear. Baggy as it is, though, he managed not to say out loud, I reckon ya could crap yer pants an’ no one’d be the wiser til they got downwind of ya.
“Interestin’ skinjob on yer mule, too, puhn yoh,” Sam added, noting that the position of the mule might be good enough to provide some cover (and maybe a quick way to skin out) if things went south all the sudden, “Chauferrin’ the high-falootin’ types off to the shindig are ya?”
((Assuming some back and forth, etc))
Old Hunt had fallen easily into the conversation and seemed a nice enough guy, so Sam chit-chatted with him for a spell. Poor bastard prob’ly don’t get spoke to much other’n do this an’ do that, Sam figured.
Hunt was prattling on about when and how the old mule had been modified to look like a stagecoach when a big man, all wrapped up in dark clothes and leather, exited the bank; at that point Hunt’s jaw music might as well have been background noise. Sam still offered up the occasional albeit distracted ‘uh-huh’ or ‘hmm’ as the old man droned on but, from the moment he stepped into view, the leather-clad man had Dash’s full attention. There was something vaguely familiar about this one, Sam couldn’t quite place it but he was sure he’d encountered this man once or twice before.
Pythons Sam noted, his mouth suddenly gone dry, Heavy eights, both… where do I know you from, mister?..
Knife. Left boot, Dash’s eyes hardened a bit, realizing that this man’s knife was positioned the way it ought to be when one means to – and knows how to – use it, not the way some of these young, not-long-fer-livin’ greenhorns out in the Verse might’ve slung one for appearances. Yeah… I know you… wei shan (really dangerous) ain’t ya? Wish I could recollect yer name…
Then there was that obvious bulge under the man’s left arm; And there’s the equalizer, huh? Try as he might, Sam couldn’t keep his fingers from flexing or his arm from drifting so much closer to the Avenger’s grips than was sensible considering the proximity of civilians. Keep walkin’, puhn yoh, Dash warned subliminaly, where ever I knows ya from, here ain’t the place ta get reacquainted…keep walkin’. For the next few seconds those two words repeated like a mantra in Sam’s head, even as the man did exactly that… all the way across the street where he commenced to runnin’ his yap with the other shady type in front of Mallory’s.
Why do I feel like I shoulda just shot that man dead? Why don’t I jus’ do it now? Sam’s hips began to turn as his hand started to close on the Avenger’s grips…Juh shi suh mo go dohng shee?!
He had almost started reaching for the shotgun when he realized that it was Brigit who had a hold of his arm and was tugging his hand away from the pistol. “Sam?” She giggled in that way that stirred Sam’s nethers, even as he forced his gaze away from the leather coat and talked his free hand out of snatching the scattergun free, “Really now, you need to pay attention to your surroundings Mr. Dash. You’re supposed to be protecting me!”
Protecting me… Now, those words echoed in the pilot’s head and overran his jitters. Right… he blinked again, and then once more as he convinced the muscles in his arm to relax, Civilians…
“Sorry ‘bout that, Miss Brigit,” he grinned, playing off the reach for the shotgun by feigning an adjustment of his bandana, “Got distracted by the scenery, I reckon.”
Sam nodded a cordial farewell to Hunt before his still narrowed gaze panned, one last time, over the shady types and Mr Familiar. “Helluva place,” he muttered, letting his hand fall again to the small of Brigit’s back as he ushered her into the bank, “Guess we don’ wanna push these folks to the wrong side of fashionably late, does we?”
Once inside the three story, brick building, Dash took quick note of the entrances and possible exits, defensible positions that could be gotten to in a hurry, them folk as might not be able ta fend fer themselves if lead started flying, and places he might chase them off to if such a thing was to unfold. Seemed to be, now that Mr Familiar had stepped on down the street, that it was just the fussy couple (John and Nora, if he recollected the names Brigit had used) and some weevil-lookin’ teller were the only additional innocents he’d need to worry about outside the schoolmarm… Plus… but, secure as banks tended to be and as cramped as the quarters were, it might be a might tricky slingin’ iron and making sure the wrong folk didn’t get shot in the process… Minus…
“…Sam Dash. He is the pilot of ship that brought the you know what for the miners, I have to give him the promised payment.”
He heard Brigit introduce him and snapped his gaze in the direction of the obviously hen-pecked banker and his stunningly beautiful wife. “Folks,” he nodded.
“Really,” Nora purrs, “Was the Saloon all booked up?”
“”No Nora,” Brigit shot back, “but I’d thought you might need the room to advance your husband’s career.”
Ai ya, Sam grinned/grimaced, picking up the honeyed venom that was being passed between what had to be Frisco’s two finest females, this looks ta be a lot like throwin’ a coupla wet cats in a gunny sack. He took the opportunity presented by the women’s sparring to take a peek out one of the bank’s barred windows, tugging his handset communicator out of his jacket as he went.
“I sure’s hell hope one o’ ya’s got yer ears on,” Dash scowled into the communicator as he stepped towards the window to put eyes back on the sketchy group outside. He couldn’t get a bead on the big, bad wong bah duhn he’d sized up moments ago, and another one or two of them were out of sight as well, but the two directly across the street were still just where he’d left them and that didn’t set well in Dash’s gut. “I reckon I might’ve stepped inta a big pile o’ niou suh (cow poop) here at th’ bank. Got’s me a fistful o’ big damn bad men givin’ us the once an’ twice over. If’n ya can’t all come a-runnin’, at least send th’ Kid an’ his girlfriends, get me?
Might wanna go full burn on that, Roc, I’m gonna see if I can’t get the folks what’s left inside out… I’m gone quiet.”
Ending the transmission, Sam turned back to see that Nora and her husband were headed out and Brigit was sauntering toward the teller window. “Good afternoon, Morgan,” she smiled at the weevily teller, “How are you today?”
“Doing well, Miss Brigit,” the man replied, “If you wanted the credits to pay this man, I’m afraid I can’t help you. You know John…”
“That’s okay Albert.” Birgit interrupted, “We want to do a transfer of funds.
Could you come over here and give the man your code please, Sam?”
“Sure,” Sam nodded, his eyes flicking between the teller window and the front door as he strolled up. He nodded to the teller and rattled off the account number to which the haul from all of Rocinante’s jobs went prior to being divyed up among the crew (assuming anything was left to divvy after the essentials were accounted for, that is).
“I’m sorry Miss Brigit,” Albert puzzled after clacking away at his terminal for a moment, “but I can’t seem to get a connection to the cortex.”
Why don’t I likes the sounds o’ that?
“Oh? Is the cortex down?’
“No. I just did a transfer a few minutes ago. But now it is ….well it’s dead.”
BOOM!
Flashbang. We’re dog-humped! Sam thought just before the light and sound overwhelmed him and sent him off into and ear-ringing limbo, Gorramit! I know that sumbitc….
Posted on 2008-05-20 at 10:51:11.
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Topic: Hi all.
Subject: Well, its the truth..
...the whole truth... and nothing but the truth... so help me Grugg.
Shall I list all of the characters I've seen you play? I seem to remember Aedyn Dai/Lys'Khala (even before either of us found the Inn)... Echo... Ens Lafette... Shall I go on?
See there, Sz and Whit? We're like Pringles in this place... once you pop, you can't stop... and seriously... do any of us really want to?
Posted on 2008-05-19 at 19:58:14.
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Topic: Hi all.
Subject: A lot late...
Yet another thread that I missed until it was 'old'... *sigh*... one of these days I'll have a good connection at home and a 'non-sneak-around' way to get here from work and I should be more alert by then.
Anyhoo... enough of my whining. Welcome, welcome, welcome to both of you lovely folks. I won't rehash all of the oohs and ahhs that have been posted already (I will confirm that they're all true, though)... and, despite the fact that Lysk doesn't join a lot of RPs she can RP darn well!
Sooo (because I can hear the "Shut up, Eol's" ringing in the universe), summing it up: Welcome to the Inn. We're glad to have you and we're looking forward to keeping you around!
Note: Anyone caught feeding the Grugg will have to take over the back shaving thing in the summer time.
Posted on 2008-05-19 at 19:45:50.
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Topic: Voyages of the Rocinante - Firefly RPG QnA
Subject: Sam's transmission
For reference (just in case one of you beats me to the post) what follows is the transmission Dash makes from the bank (sadly unaware that he's being scrambled).
“I sure’s hell hope one o’ ya’s got yer ears on,” Dash scowled into the communicator as he stepped towards the window to put eyes back on the sketchy group outside. He couldn’t get a bead on the big, bad wong bah duhn he’d sized up moments ago, and another one or two of them were out of sight as well, but the two directly across the street were still just where he’d left them and that didn’t set well in Dash’s gut. “I reckon I might’ve stepped inta a big pile o’ niou suh (cow poop) here at th’ bank. Got’s me a fistful o’ big damn bad men givin’ us the once an’ twice over. If’n ya can’t all come a-runnin’, at least send th’ Kid an’ his girlfriends, get me?
Might wanna go full burn on that, Roc, I’m gonna see if I can’t get the folks what’s left inside out…”
*sigh* Sam shoulda brought more grandes.
Posted on 2008-05-19 at 17:42:56.
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Topic: A cool piece of news!
Subject: Stumbling around blind?
How'd I miss this?
My congrats to the young Bardess of Birmingham! It's always cool when someone thinks enough of your work to publish it.
*throws a party*
Posted on 2008-05-19 at 15:02:20.
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Topic: Q&A: The Return Of The Prodigal Son
Subject: Wait no longer...
...my chapter has been posted.
Thankfully, Flirt didn't move us out of the city or anything, otherwise I may have been writing for another week.
Posted on 2008-05-19 at 14:49:21.
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Topic: The Return of the Prodigal Son
Subject: Dawn...
Dawn broke and with it the realization that last night hadn’t been a dream. When Tristan woke, Darli was still curled in his arms, the jasmine scent of her hair subtle yet intoxicating. He sighed happily and, for a long moment, was content to simply lie there, holding her and recalling their long conversation from the night before… For hours and hours after retiring to their room, the pair of thieves had huddled together in a single bed and took turns recounting the events of the past decade and for the entirety of the talking, neither could look away from the other until sleep, at last, over took them and they drifted off in one another’s arms… Smiling, Tristan delicately lifted a spill of her curling, ebon locks from where it lay across his chest and tucked it behind her ear. “The sun is up, Darli,” he whispered, letting his fingertips feather across her cheek as he kissed tenderly on the top of the head, “and so should we be. The others may likely leave without us.”
Begrudging, now, of the fact that there was a job to be done, Tristan slipped silently from the bed, pausing to plant another tender kiss on her cheek before turning to his pack. Spider’s working gear, of course, was at the ready at the top of this particular saddle-bag and, before Darli was fully awake, he had already slipped into his dark-hued breeches and boots of soft leather and was just shy of slipping into his shadow-chain (as he called the silenced shirt of elfin mail) when Darli opened her eyes and smiled at him. The soft brilliance of that expression warmed him to his core and, again, made him wish that there was at least another day and night before the job was to begin. He knew, of course, that there wasn’t to be any more time for just the two of them alone in this room, though, so he took some solace in the fact that, however long this new adventure might last, Darli would be close and, when it was all over, he swore to himself at that moment, never again would he lose her the way he had all those years ago. Something in him prevented Tristan from voicing those thoughts, though – be it superstition, apprehensiveness towards testing fate, or, perhaps, simple fear that speaking the words might end this dream he had found himself in – instead, he smiled brightly at her, welcoming her to the new day, and continued dressing.
After he had pulled the deep purple tunic over the shirt of mail and set about snugging himself up in his housebreaker’s rig, though, Tristan couldn’t help but pause and gather Darli in his arms even as she tried to get herself geared up. “I’m more rested this morning,” he whispered as his arms slid around her and his lips pressed to her neck, “than I can ever recall. I’m glad I’ve found you again.”
Downstairs
They had joined the others for breakfast in the tavern, of course, and engaged in the banter that was typical of the beginnings of such a task as was set before them.
"I hope today we will find out more about what we have signed up for," Amiri said at one point.
“More vagaries and speculations than truth, I’d wager,” Spider snickered in reply, “We’ll likely not find any trace of that until we’re long into the task.”
Spider couldn’t help but grin as he looked from one to the next… Quite the motley crew we’ve gathered together, isn’t it, he chuckled inwardly, Fighters, hunters, healers, singers, and thieves… for naught more than the vanishing of some ‘beggars’… heh… right, the beggars are the concern and I’m the Warlord of Altan Tepe.
There is more to this than any of us could imagine, I’m sure of it. Regardless whom it might have been that directed each of us here to begin with, he mused as he finished his breakfast and rechecked his gear, I doubt that any of us know who we truly are working for.
So it was, with thoughts such as those in his mind, that Spider wasn’t quite surprised to encounter Lyra outside of the Inn. Nor was he surprised much by what she had to say. She was an ‘emissary’ of whomever it was that had truly backed this expedition and, as he would have expected, didn’t volunteer anything more than the ‘gifts’ of provisions and the like, along with a falcon named Nessa that, she said, would carry communications back and forth between the party and their benefactors. He watched the lovely lass carefully and acknowledged her without words when it was required but, as he had learned long ago that listening was usually more beneficial than talking, said little in her presence.
"I would certainly like to know who has gathered us together,” Amiri stated following Ash’s acceptance of the falcon, “What qualifications they are seeking, and what do they know about this venture beside the rumors and tales?"
Vagaries and speculations, Spider grinned, when Lyra responded. He flicked a wink at Amiri as if to say; See? We’ll know precious little else until were near done.
"And who in the city will be receiving our messages," Khalessian pressed. The fighter, too, it seemed wasn’t easily swayed from the line of questioning. "We are all interested in this mission, but know little of what is required. When and where might we expect to hear more about this mission?"
"Your messages will be coming to me so I can gather the supplies you need and send them to you as I see fit.” Lyra answered cryptically, “I would accompany you but I must take care of somebody that is close to me, their health is failing them. Nobody knows anything more than that the beggars have been disappearing and that we need to find them.”
Spider arched a brow at that and may have actually cast a disbelieving look in Lyra’s direction… True concern for the downtrodden, then, is it? From someone with the funds to finance an expedition such as this? Curiouser and curiouser…… his mind tunred back, remembering the briefing he’d received from Seramin just weeks ago, and instantly started sorting through the threads that tied that information together with those provided by this lovely girl.
“Homeless or not,” Lyra said, “they are still an important part of our community. Fathers, brothers, sisters, mothers, uncles, aunts, cousins, you name it and we can promise you at least one has disappeared from the streets since this ordeal has happened. I will personally ensure you have food and shelter for this trip. I don't know how long it will take to figure out what has happened and send the news to us, or you may deliver it personally if it doesn't take too long to figure out what has happened, and perhaps bring them back, if they are not dead.
Time is crucial,” Lyra stressed, her own eyes turning towards the rapidly rising sun, “The longer we wait, the more go missing. If there are no questions, please carry on. I have other things to do before I return to my ailing father.”
It was sure to be an intricate web when it was completed, Spider thought, finally letting his eyes drift free of the girl and over the faces of his new companions, but, as with any web, it would never be completed if the first thread didn’t get anchored. “Sounds to me like an invitation to leave the city, my friends,” he quipped, moving towards the stables to claim his horse…
Posted on 2008-05-19 at 14:47:39.
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Topic: Q&A: The Return Of The Prodigal Son
Subject: Darn...
...well, I did say "may".
Posted on 2008-05-19 at 13:57:03.
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Topic: Q&A: The Return Of The Prodigal Son
Subject: We all know how it goes, I think...
...so no worries on the delay, Flirty. 
Actually, it kind of works out well for me because I may actually finish the post I've been working on and get it tacked up before you update.
See what I mean about 'busy all around'? I don't know what happened to the weekend, but it sure disappeared in a hurry.
Posted on 2008-05-19 at 12:41:37.
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Topic: Ayrn's Army
Subject: And so grows the Innmate Reserve Corps
Congrats to you and yours, Ayrn.
Posted on 2008-05-17 at 15:21:44.
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Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off Q&A
Subject: Well, alllllllrighty then!
It's been a while since reading a post forced me to spew a mouthful of coffee through my sinuses but that one did it!
If Jal is lucky enough to only "almost die," I'll stake my claim for the next run, now, as well.
Posted on 2008-05-16 at 18:44:18.
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Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off Q&A
Subject: LOL
Also cute and fluffy!
I ain't skeered just yet... Jal's still got enough mana to do a little something, I think, and is probably just crazy enough to risk Wizard's Twilight if things get too crunchy...
Quick question: Jal was heading towards Alloryn as of my last post... at this point, about how close would he be to her and where in relation to he and Alloryn are the dragonflies? Are we 'surrounded' or are they all approaching from one direction?... Probably come up with another  or two but will address those in post.
Posted on 2008-05-16 at 13:43:17.
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Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off Q&A
Subject: Oh crap!
Who brought the bug spray?
Anyone?
Please?
mommy...
Posted on 2008-05-16 at 02:40:46.
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Topic: The Return of the Prodigal Son
Subject: The Troupe Assembles (backpost)
As the afternoon stretched into evening so, too, did the group gathered around that particular table in Needlemire’s Inn grow. The first of the new additions were a Cleric of Khoronus (obvious from the symbols stitched, painted, or otherwise displayed on the half-elf’s vestments and gear) who, quite mirthfully, introduced himself as Panon Panaw and, in the cleric’s company (as if the priest were serving as her escort) also came an elven woman whom, by bearing and demeanor, was unmistakable as a Paladin of Corellon. The entrance of this pair, despite their noble bearing, seemed almost comical to Spider as he watched them. “It would seem that the gods have quite an interest in the disappearance of society’s dregs, as well,” he chuckled softly, lifting a fresh tankard of ale to his lips.
“A priest of Father Time and a sword mistress of the First of the Elves,” he mused, swallowing that mouthful of ale and turning his golden eyes back to Darli and the rest, “Both useful and, at the same time, curious…” Panaw, he figured, given the ‘timely nature’ of Khoronus’ clerics, had simply been in the right place at the right time to have heard of the expedition but what interest could Corellon possibly have in the vanishing of beggars in a largely human city? Spider had lost his faith in any gods long ago and, now, put it into little more than his skills and his blade so, aside from fighting prowess and access to healing magics, it was hard for him to fathom what might have drawn these two in.
As he lost himself in Darli’s smile, again, he let his wonder at the purposes of this pair slip from his mind. He greeted Ash (as the paladin preferred to be called) and Panon as they reached the table and, as was always wise when setting out with new folk, listened with interest as they spoke. He, of course, answered when spoken to but, as had been his way for as long as mattered, Spider kept any personal details and any hint of his affiliation with the Shadowblades very closely guarded.
It was not long thereafter, as daylight drew even nearer to dusk, that the last of the troupe arrived at Needlemire’s in the form of a pair of bards. One of these he recognized as “something Steelsong;“ a Skald, if Spider recalled the term correctly, from the human warrior clans of the North. Spider has seen this one perform before (though he couldn’t recall precisely where) and knew a little about the man and his reputation for having slain a dragon. The other in Steelsong’s company, though, he didn’t recognize clearly. Jahven’s name, when it was offered, struck some chord of familiarity but Spider couldn’t decide if he had before heard the name whispered in the shadows of the underworld or if perhaps, like Steelsong, it had been heard in relation to a performance the Shadowblade had once witnessed in some other place. Regardless, like most folks of their ilk, Spider was sure that the bards had decided to join this expedition with their foremost thoughts being the songs and tales that might be woven from the threads of the adventure to come and, had the truth of it been known, he was looking forward to hearing bits of both men’s repertoires over the course of this thing.
So it was that the evening went on and, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the sun had dipped below the horizon, only those around this table remained at Needlemire’s. All the other patrons had scurried off to make it to their homes before night claimed the streets or, if they weren’t locals, had been directed by Needlemire himself to other establishments that might offer accommodations for the night as all of the rooms in his place were currently occupied. Like all of them, Spider had spent those hours getting to know his new companions and even had begun to truly like some of them well enough. So it was that Tristan offered up a somewhat disappointed sigh when the Innkeeper began to shut down the tavern and advised them of the arrangements that would need to be made for their own rooms.
“If you’ll not mind the memories of it, Darli-luv,” he grinned after Needlemire had suggested it, “I’d be happy to share a room with you. We’ve got lost time to recapture, after all.”
((OOC: Assuming, of course that Darlthenia agrees…))
His smile widened and, as Darli slid gracefully from his lap, Spider downed the remains of his tankard before rising from the seat himself. “The night keep you well, my friends,” he beamed, nodding to each member of the party before taking Darli’s hand and happily strolling off to a room Needlemire had set aside, “It’s possible that this will be the last night in some time that we all enjoy a true bed.”
((OOC2: And, here ends the backpost… Tristan and Darli off to play ‘catch up’ and ready themselves for the coming morrow. DA- if you want to play any of this out, let me know (I imagine there is quite a bit that these tow will have to tell each other and, given the length of time they’ve been apart, there may even be some “shocking revelations” brought to light). Everyone else – I imagined our characters all learned a bit about one another over the course of gathering together, if anyone wants to offer up info that might’ve ‘slipped’ about your characters (or even might want to know what they might’ve learned about Spider) in that time just shoot me a PM or something… Still working on the ‘next day’ but hope to have it ready to go soon, too.))
Posted on 2008-05-15 at 16:53:38.
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Topic: Continuing Where We Last Left Off Q&A
Subject: Found a bear...
...and took a nap during battle that I lived to tell about, thank you very much, sir!
Oh yeah... I levitated that table, too, and made that fight all the more annoying.
*hands Valentine the orange guy* It's your turn... watch out for the Molasses Swamp.
Posted on 2008-05-15 at 14:40:17.
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The Rebellion Against The
Treasure Seekers QnA
