Smagnavast the Black's page

Hrmmmph.
Flies out.

Ooo! A new fwiend!

Spicer. There appear to be some heavies in dark suits and glasses out the back. Something about a bill from last year regarding a leaked release from an unofficial bard's publicity office, and Gulga Cench said they could take it out of you...

;)

*sigh* looks like no 2010 tag for me.

lastknightleft wrote:

You hear that b%*~!es, all I'm sayin is the better be a ton of Birthday Cake up in here when I come rollin' out (Ice cream cake or Cheesecake are preferred none of that cheap frosting crap, if you're going frosting it'd better be fondant or buttercream)

"Ohhhh, I've got your cake right here."

::evil grin::

A little birdie tells me that a bunch of marketing text was recently written by a certain Events Manager and that said text was used for some web-related functions that may or may not have something (yes) to do with PaizoCon 2010. That little birdie also told me that something could quite possibly be on the store blog about just such a show sometime this week.

Dear Mr. Logue,
Charles Evans 25 is unable to post to this thread right now, for reasons involving a smart alec answer about the air speed velocity of a coconut-laden swallow, but if he were able to come to this thread and post, he would like to know a number of things:
1) May entries for the Sinister Adventures monster or treasure hoard competition which were not selected by yourself be reworked and submitted for Wayfinder #2, which apparently is desperately short of crunch?
2) What evil article of infinite doom and peril have you and Mr. Pett contributed to Wayfinder #2? If not such a fiendish article, what advertisements? If neither article nor advertisements, how did yourself and Mr. Pett not come to know that the Demon Queen of Victuals and the slippery amphibian are taking submissions for Wayfinder #2 at this very moment?
3) What is your credit card number?

Actually, he didn't want to know that last one, but I, however, was interested in discovering if (by changing your credit card account the FBI approved 12 times) you had covered over the evidence of that 'minor misdemeanour' featuring three starspawn, a carniverous plant, and a two gallon drum of illegal mindflayer extracts that was the real reason that you missed that meeting with Yoda...

Your Evil Overlord,

Smagnavast the Black.

Kyle Baird wrote:

QUACK! QUACK! QUACK! Those ducks in a row yet?

No, but their breast meat was delicious with a nice merlot!

-Lisa

Welcome to the looney bin Crystal Frasier !

The wolves will be here for you shortly.

; )

Trivial humanoids. The reason Josh does not reveal to you which faction came out on top is because it is THE DRAGONS that were the most successful faction. That's right, a faction which scarce few of you even knew existed up until this moment, and those few of you who did likely being 'in the know' because you were invited to join and are members.
Throughout the preliminary season, our agents have been accumulating a steady number of successes, defrosting Ulfen ships, dealing with troublesome secrets, and making sure that distilleries end up in the RIGHT hands.
I am pleased to announce a practically unique NINETY FIVE PER CENT success rate by our representatives in scoring the maximum prestige available, and that the five per cent of operatives who failed to achieve the standards expected made a very tasty entrée course at our annual conclave in the appropriate draconic library.
Josh will of course continue to disseminate misinformation, as per our instructions, refusing to acknowledge our faction's existence, or at least he will if he doesn't want to spend a week away from work again. (Did you really think a man with his Great Fortitude could actually succomb to pneumonia?)
I am pleased to announce that the resultant victory for the dragon faction means that the struggle of lesser beings will continue throughout the forthcoming season, our own operatives quietly amassing prestige whilst the other factions bicker and fail.
And will someone please tell that idiot Mengkare to stop preening himself? Yes we won, but he's embarrassing us.

<Wanders into thread and eats a cleric>
Damn. That one had the madness domain. Stop touching me inside, and digest, confound you.
Ah, that's better.
<Wanders out, trying to avoid the need to make any attack rolls or saving throws in the near future, and vaguely hoping for a skill check.>

I have a nice little tropical island somewhere approximately two hundred million years ago. The trouble with travelling in four dimensions to get there is go too far one way and you hit an ice age, and too far the other and you wind up in the middle of a shower of enormous meteorites causing mayhem and destruction. My island does have the advantage of being remote - most treasure hunters and anything capable of even remotely being an enemy literally wasn't even born yet - but proves problematic in terms of getting staff with opposable digits if I don't bring them in myself.
And the rate those prehistoric bayou grow at.... <shudders>... I've had to engineer a species of tree eating land-dwelling giant trilobites just to keep the view remotely presentable.

You people need to start thinking like dragons. Five years is NOTHING. I barely have time to count every coin in my hoard during five years, and let me tell you, getting my minions to properly silversheen the florins so that they don't tarnish is a major pain in the backside. Those silver coins are ALMOST more trouble than they're worth, what with having to keep alchemists on call and buttered up to maintain them in anything resembling a presentable state. (And let me tell you that alchemists are a few of the lesser beings you need to keep buttered up, since if they start deliberately brewing that silversheen wrong, they can make a real mess of things.) Still, it is tremendously satisfying to smash the occasional undead or other-planar interloper into a mountain of silver coins and to smell the acrid smoke (and hear the occasional squeals of pain in the case of devils) as the metal seers into them.
And moving offices? Don't talk to me about moving offices. It's cheaper and easier to 'persuade' a druid to divert a lava flow than to move lairs and a hoard that at the last estimate contained over fifteen million in coins, twenty seven major artworks, twenty-two racks of scrolls, three golf-bags of enchanted swords, ten suits of mithral armour, two pipe organs, the skull of a dinosaur king, and the admantine canary of Emperor Xoot. Oh, and those gems. They get EVERYWHERE. Last time I had a spring clean, I found handfuls of them in the bottom of the sandpit where I go to roll and shed my scales every decade. My minions were six weeks sieving sand, retrieving those gems.
You humans and half elves have no idea how easy you have it.

Perhaps.
The dragon seems to consider a moment.
I shall simply have to have a watch maintained on this place, and to drop by at an appropriate time convenient to me.
The dragon departs, taking the sack with him.

The more people who know about this, the more people might let something slip to a particular infernal relative of Lynora-Jill; which is why I prefer that as few people as possible know of what has been done.
If it is inconvenient for Azuri'ith to meet with me right now, perhaps you could give me some idea of when he might not be quite so busy?

Perhaps. And then there's this whole problem that I am, as you observe, a mighty dragon, who firstly has trouble squashing into most of those tiny little streets and alleys - and demolition and property damage is guaranteed if I try - and secondly whose presence will likely cause a panic, partly due to the property damage, and partly de to my natural majesty and power.
When I need something from that place, I have to send agents or arrange to meet someone on the edge of town, and frankly I'd rather handle this personally.

A moment, perhaps, yes; but I will not tarry long here, if he is engaged upon something time-consuming.

I require to speak with Azuri'ith, the grandfather of the late Lynora-Jill, the dragon responds to the djinn. I have something which may be of interest to him.

The black dragon, Smagnavast, flies into the Eyrie, a small canvas sack dangling from one foreclaw.

Sydnael Ardre wrote:

I'm tired of Chelaxian women. They're so... backstabby, if I say so myself (from experience of course). I want a girlfriend with a strong character and with whom to have good arguments that don't end in poison or slavery; I'd rather raise my voice and maybe get a bit more physical (take it as you may). Would a Shoanti girl be up to these standards?

Since the Shoanti appears to be occupied, allow me to advise you. My concubine and I have been together for what seems like most of recorded history, so I've dealt with similar issues a few times.

Your problem isn't where she's from, it's a failure to set firm boundaries in the relationship. If she understands that you'll murder her and transform her into an undead abomination at the slightest hint of disobedience, she'll be much more respectful. ** spoiler omitted **
After the relationship hits a few bumps, keeping that romantic flame alight will take planning. For example, if she stabs you in the back, it's nice to know that you've already put a special surprise in her morning tea. When she knows you're the sort who pays that extra attention to her, she'll take your concerns more seriously.

Beneath the eaves of a haunted forest, the black dragon Smagnavast meets with Shovastika, and takes possession of a sack from her. Then the pair part and go their separate ways.

At great personal expense I have sent Shovastika (epic level spymistress) to pick the Carnival of Shadows clean of stars (and to also head off potential problems of Ashaundra getting her hands on any of them. If she does get her hands on any pieces, it won't be from the Carnival.
Edit:
This is a personal initiative, and nothing to do with any hypothetical employer I may have, as will be made clear at some point.

Do I need to be able to change and adapt? Will that protect this place?

gotta shut down for the night

I am not sure.

The Warden seems puzzled.

No. She has summoned me after all. And others. We Wardens serve the Board. We are Balance.

The dragon addresses the Board Warden
So if she's your sister - either literally or figuratively - and you occasionally kill one another, it's possible for her, if she takes the gloves off and gets her own pretty little hands dirty, for her to personally kill you?
And will that stick if she does?

The dragon glances at The Bard.
His secrets, not mine.

So, with the goddess Lynora-Jill still off doing whatever divine things it is that she's doing, I take it that you are formulating a strategy to deal with the undead thing and her pet construct? She will be working out a plan to deal with the Board Warden, I expect, since he was the only thing which drove her off this time.
And she can probably be counted on to go straight for him if he shows up again, unless she has acquired subtlety in the interim. She has a preposterous level of arrogance for someone lacking the understandable justification of being a dragon.

The dragon appears to notice Nimora for the first time.
Hello little wet one.

It's just that if some blighter of an enchanter's forced that shape on you, against your will, then for a small consideration I would be perfectly happy to hunt him down and exterminate him if that helped you out.

The dragon glances at The Bard.
I take it you use that shape because you enjoy it?

And has anyone tried to determine what those gems are for yet? Threads or champions he's killed? Some sort of rechargeable power-boosting devices? Wards which have to be taken down before he can be destroyed?
That's twice he and his mistress have tried to destroy this place, and frankly, as a dragon and creature therefore of the air, it's starting to annoy me.

The dragon touches down.
That doesn't mean he doesn't have it but isn't employing it. Nor that he hasn't just regained some of that mastery.

A black dragon circles, then begins to descend towards the ground. Anyone who was here just after Bwaaaktor was killed might recognise it as the dragon that held the thread together until the Board Warden showed up.

The dragon shakes its head in some frustration, but remains silent and the council continues.

I think that you should be cautious, the dragon responds. The information that that creature gave seems to me likely to be accurate, but also to be in some way misleading. I do not trust it. I doubt that things will be entirely as he made out. I would say more were I freer to speak, but I am under an obligation of silence in this to another of my kind.

*
And finally, expect the quantity and quality of your enemies to have increased - there are whole nations out there brought up from birth to have regarded a rival nation and its patron deity as enemies to be exterminated.
And don't think - if you have any sense of obligation to make a 'good' job out of it - to have much time to call your own or to pursue personal projects. The dragon gives a toothy grin. Frankly, if I were in your particular shoes right now, I'd be looking for a way to get back to being a mortal before it was too late.
Anyhow, I shall be off. I am awaiting notice on whether or not to intervene with regard to correcting a misunderstanding over actions the Goddess of Dangerous knowledge took with your form. The fact that you have of course 'just reverted to being a deity', as the informant has done their best to paint the picture of you, has only helped to blacken the image of you that they have woven with their artful lies and half-truths.
With scarcely a backward glance, Smagnavast departs.

Edit:
*Smagnavast snorted, but took the feather anyway. He's a dragon, so he doesn't turn down presents from deities except in the most suspicious of circumstances; it pleases his ego too much. And as a dragon, if he has it to spare in the first place, he almost always has time for a deity that wants to listen to his thoughts...

Oh yes. Watch out for those little worshippers and clerics of yours. The more of a goddess you become, the more you will need them to continue to - in the deific sense - 'live'.

By temperament and inclination I am, I suspect, unsuited to reliably advise you on how to deal with mistakes, Smagnavast dryily observes. My solutions would not be your solutions. Two things from draconic lore - myths perhaps. There is some sort of guardian beyond the knowledge of even the gods, unless it makes itself known, which keeps the masters and mistresses of those such as The Flame Troll at bay, through their easiest route to invade reality, through the Realms of Dreams. Naturally, draconic myths insist that this guardian is a dragon.
The second is that, beautiful and evil, the Daughters of the Morning walk at times abroad, wrapped in the shadow of their own light - a light which was before even most gods were, and which will still be after all the gods are gone, and which is horribly unique to them, a last echo perhaps of the grandeur and splendour of the multiverse in the days when everything was new. Such creatures are outside of the the knowledge of even the gods, their thoughts their own unless they permit otherwise, and inscrutable as they wish to magic. It is said that only the most pure-hearted of paladins can defeat them, by sacrificing themselves, although the last deity of paladins and chivalry to attempt to disseminate that information broadly, to his followers, expired in a rather nasty manner as the homeworld of his pantheon was invaded by three simultaneous hordes of fiends, and a plague of Scro from spelljamming space, eliminating every last worshipper and cleric within hours.

Since we skipped introductions last time, for the record my name is Smagnavast the Black, the dragon turns its attention to Lynora-Jill. You are Lynora-Jill. I gather I inadvertantly saved you a short time back whilst attending to a location sacred to creatures of the air which you had neglected to protect properly. Please do not presume on my rescuing you a third time.
Lynora can sense that the dragon is a herald or servant of something else, and that that greater power is skilled, if nothing else, in hiding any traces of his or her nature/identity.

At whatever juncture of the astral or other plane that the confrontation is taking place on, there is a sudden disturbance of a new visitor. Trailing clouds of darkness, the dragon Lynora saw at the Sanctum that one time arrives. The Flame Troll, cackling madly every time Lynora-Jill flung winds, despite the battle it seemed to be losing, appears much less happy.
You're in way over your shoulders, little goddess, the black dragon barely spares Lynora a glance. It wants you to use elemental power - earth, wind, fire, water. It's all the same to its master or one of its masters associates. Try happy thoughts next time, or positive energy if you don't have any happy thoughts to muster. And please note, that what I am about to do, is only going to work for me, or the dragon which requires anonymity and has assisted me.
The black dragon launches streamers of darkness at the flame troll, wrappings from the depths of night, at the Flame Troll which gutters and goes out.

Interesting. Smagnavast the Black rumbles. I believe, your majesty, we might be best advised to withdraw to your hold to discuss this further. There are various angles to this current situation, depending on just who is named as your brother and his people's killer, which it might be possible to exploit, to bring the criminal to justice.

However long you think you need to take over that, I would advise you to treble it. For a start.
I can count on the talons of one claw the number of things around which - aside from silly mistakes, catastrophic loss of worshippers, or another deity - are both big and bad enough to dispose of a goddess.
And most of those things would give little heed to me, let alone you.
Perhaps another time, fallen celestial....
The dragon departs, leaving Ashaundra to her scheming.

If you are looking for some way out of your servitude to the Jack of Tears and his crew, the dragon looks amused, I would counsel you to find a ring of regeneration or some such similar magic first. I suspect that if you find some way out of or around your servitude - such as one of those cute little scrolls with the clay seals that the demilich Acerak used to keep around, storing up time* - you will be immediately restored to the condition that you were in before you were healed by the Jack of Tears upon arrival here.

* For the curious, Smagnavast is referring to a 'focus' item such as was used for the weight of the wait spell in the 2nd edition adventure Return to the Tomb of Horrors.

I said 'undead' little aasimar girl, and I was referring to the delusional vampire that styles herself 'Innocent Blood', and for a while went under the name 'Serafina' at Club Calistria, the dragon crisply corrects Ashaundra. I have little doubt that most of the inhabitants of this place have departed to fight alongside her in her current war, or to try to cause chaos elsewhere. Dragonkind has seen this sort of thing happening many times before, and I gather that the likely possible results tend to end up becoming limited and with a few minor variations tediously easy to predict.
I warned her that resorting to brute strength was unlikely to serve her well, but she has apparently opted to carry on regardless.

You overstate the abilities of the undead little aasimar girl, but perhaps you do so deliberately for comic effect.
The dragon glances around.
You still owe the people of this place a life debt?

The dragon returns to the now almost deserted carnival in something of a hurry.
I have intelligence. Which may be of interest to those in charge...
He glances around.
Ahhh.

If that is your choice, so be it.
I shall not detain your rendezvous with destiny any longer.
It sweeps from the thread.

The dragon spares The Mask the briefest of glances:
Since you feign the ignorance of needing it spelled out for you - I doubt that you can be as genuinely stupid as you pretend to be - at present, I and my allies are not at war with the lady here.
If she presented herself as my vassal and then rebelled - well that would be rebellion, and I would be inclined to duly chastise her for her temerity.

The dragon addresses Innocent Blood.
You seem to be charging in with very little strategy beyond attack and kill.
You don't appear to have any goals other than just 'kill everything and raise undead' which relies on brute strength and little finesse.
And sooner or later, you will exhaust your strength, and then what enemies you have left will turn on you.
If your allies don't betray you first and turn on you for their own purposes, that is.
At present you and your army offer me interesting possibilities. I am offering you the opportunity to surrender to me now and become my vassal.
You can settle down here in the swamp, make occasional raids against your enemies, and pay a tithe in return for my protection.

The shadow of a black dragon circling casts itself over the company; with triple protections in place, Smagnavast dives down to hover with skillful flicks of his wings near the vampire leader of this army. He addreses her:
I gather that you're in charge here?