Jarl of the Kitten Vikings's page

It's me suns birthday ye scurvy scum, he be lovin the pirates!!!!

Happy birthday to your son! Yar!

So, be we going to kill us some scurvy ninjas? Yar.

It's Talk Like a Viking Day, idiots!

Jarl of the Kitten Vikings wrote:

Secretlyreplacedwith wrote:

You could always start your own cult. Then, when no one joins and the crickets are chirping, we can all come over and mock you and call you funny names like "loser", "scab-eater", and "ooze-licker". We'll also accuse you of "playing ball like a girl". Trust me, you'll be in good company.

Just...shut up.

The truth hurts, doesn't it little kitty?

Say, how's your guild doing? Up to three leaders? Got any, I dunno, followers?

You could always start your own cult. Then, when no one joins and the crickets are chirping, we can all come over and mock you and call you funny names like "loser", "scab-eater", and "ooze-licker". We'll also accuse you of "playing ball like a girl". Trust me, you'll be in good company.

Just...shut up.

*Sits high above, in airship*
Exxxxxxxxxcellent....
Prepare to advance!

Problem:

My cat threw up like eight times last night. We aren't giving him any more food because he would probably just throw up again. Since he lost so much water from throwing up, we are trying to get him to drink to keep him from getting dehydrated. He refuses to drink at all, and even shoving his face in the water dish...

...

Roy-Jack the Angry Tiger wrote:

Jack Hammer wrote:

Roy-Jack the Angry Tiger wrote:

Callous Jack wrote:

Roy-Jack the Angry Tiger wrote:

"No, it's a real pool. I think Demolition Jack found it.

Did he just blow up our yard and then fill it with water?

"No, these's an actual swimming pool outside with a deck. And Demolition Jack said he found something at the bottom of it. How it came be, I don't knoW."

"Is it made of porcelain, and does it have a big handle to pull?"

"It might be one of those giant Acme toilets. Not that I've ever used it that way."

"Well, it's not a kitty-litter box. I would know. There's no sand and bit size bits of gravel in it."

"Smells like a litter-box."

*Flies overhead, having emptied the litterbox as requested*

"Hey! He stole those from us!"
"Please shut up and keep steering the airship."

Jay Frogskin wrote:

Dammit. I knew I'd forgotten something. Allow me to rephrase that:[/ooc]
[i]Frogskin appears, looking a bit ill.[/]
"That's right. He's possessed by the Mask. I don't know how long they can hold him, though..."

"No, Frogskin, that's not what I meant. He may be currently in the possession of the Mask, but I was referring to that which is inhabiting his shell. Something that should never have been allowed to enter the bounds of reality."

"I was being ironic."

Jarl of the Kitten Vikings wrote:

Shadow Pelt wrote:

.... wrote:

Suddenly, folk that nobody has seen for a while fly into combat, clutching magical greataxes. The Kittens.

The shadowy form of a massive feline leaps from within the undead army's ranks, ripping one Kitten from it's eagle mount before leaping to another. A voice flows eerily around it.

"It's so nice to be in combat again, even if it is against cousins so weak. Now if only Devlyn were here..."

The Overjarl laughs. Shadow Pelt flies through the kittens, finding them to be mere illusions. The kittens all disappear at once.

"We aren't weak."
Spirits suddenly begin to appear. Ghosts of the original army. The shaman. The original Oberjarl is there, too.
"We came prepared."
The ghosts charge.

Shadow Pelt seems to grin maliciously.

"Oh my, this battle just became a lot more fun..."

The shaman blasts Shadow Pelt with burning sunlight. The Oberjarl and his kittens raise their greataxes and charge.

.... wrote:

Suddenly, folk that nobody has seen for a while fly into combat, clutching magical greataxes. The Kittens.

The shadowy form of a massive feline leaps from within the undead army's ranks, ripping one Kitten from it's eagle mount before leaping to another. A voice flows eerily around it.

"It's so nice to be in combat again, even if it is against cousins so weak. Now if only Devlyn were here..."

The Overjarl laughs. Shadow Pelt flies through the kittens, finding them to be mere illusions. The kittens all disappear at once.

"Not in an Oberjarl's spirit to submit, Kobold Cleaver. I can hold on....."

"Even if we knew of any likely places to scry, if he's protected from that stuff, he wouldn't show up."

"Did that messenger kitten already leave? Maybe he knows where he went?"

"He went to the true source of the evil. That is all he said. But6 our Viking Kitten lore says that the worst place on the Board is a terrible thread. A thread of bones. Now, I have to go."

A kitten flies in, bearing a message. He drops it at Lynora's feet.
"Wasp renounces the challenge. He has gone to avenge his friends."

JH roars as he rushes the approaching kittens, his voice like that of a lion. The kittens may understand the words, humans do not.

Attack my pride and yours shall be destroyed. I shall feast on your bones.

Your wasp lies to you.

The kittens hiss.

It is no magic of theirs. It is the magic of the Eagles. Challenge it at your peril.

Why do you challenge the Champions of Sky and Earth? And their protectors?

May your axes crumble to rust if they draw blood here.

"Kobold Cleaver was our friend! We owed him a debt! As it is too late to repay it, we will have to settle for avenging him!"

revealed sooner than expected

Narration - JH's hammer (eagle side) screeches in challenge, as does the eagle bracer on LJ.

The kittens' eagle mounts hear the voice of their ancestral queen in the call.

Attack not, my children!

The eagles attempt to circle and land. The kittens pull the reigns, and the mounts stop.

The cunning kittens steer their eagles away from the decapods. The few who come close enough to harm them are blown away by the shamans.

The kittens return, mounted on giant eagles. The kittens are divided into groups of 10. Each group has a single shaman.
They fly over the Wendigoes, the Shamans flying out of harm's reach, and the Vikings bravely slashing with their enormous greataxes.
"Come, men! The battle is not yet won!

The Bard wrote:

The Eighth Runelord wrote:

Wailing and caterwauling like a group of off-key banshees the spectral forms of the slain goblns arise from their corpses.

'We didn't hit you with our rays,
but you reflected them back somehow and now you pays.'

The host of undead goblins take to the air, beginning to close in on the bard.
Their awful song threatens to drive him temporarily insane. Edit:
Dinnertime. Back in about half an hour.

slightly insane anyway ;p

*seeing the goblins wraiths give chase, The Bard hops on his board and leads them toward one of his traps/ward. He smiles as the goblin spirits disperse under the effects of his 'Undead Turning Wall' spell*

"Though you no longer draw breath, I realese you from undeath.."
There, happy? He can rhyme.

Okay, they're only goblins and probably dumb enough to fall for the old 'lure them into the undead turning wall' spell. And yes, happy that he can rhyme. :)

I'm keeping this alias (The Eighth Runelord) out of direct confrontations at the moment because for a master of divination it seems likely to me that his personal method of fighting will be along the lines of a surprise attack with an auto crit with a vorpal sword, and then likely initiative on the next round and teleport away from any vengeful companions; If he goes after you he likely knows exactly where to strike with a weapon selected to personally destroy you which doesn't seem terribly productive to this story.
'By all means walk into one of my traps as you have just done.'
As the voice echoes into the bard's mind, runes on the sphere of ice glow and the Bard's staff turns to water in his hands and rains down on the ground below; the bard has to grit his teeth to fight off the accompanying mental assault.
The Runelord's interference defeated for now, the only thing in need of attention is the confusion into which the goblin song has cast some of the Bard's allies,...

Suddenly, the ghost of the shaman appears.

The Kittens fly back, having lost a third of their numbers to the Defectives.

A half-hour passes. Everyone prepares for the battle. Suddenly, tehy hear shouting above. They look up...
"There they are!"
"Thank Thor we were here in time!"
"I can see the Defectives!"
"Gah, hate Pokemon."
A huge ship flies overhead. A tough-looking kitten, riding a giant eagle, flies down to the group.
"We were sent a message by our late Oberjarl. We shall do whatever is necessary to avenge him.
"We are sorry we could not bring more, but the rest are currently on their way to attack a certain 'Cat Lord'. Hopefully, this will be enough for the moment."

The few kittens (about 5)at the Club shake their heads.
There are. Very many. Thousands. Hundreds of thousands. We can't win.

Suddenly, a book appears. The 8th Runelord recognizes it as one from the Kitten Shaman, who was paying him to keep the items he sent safe. On it is a note which reads...
"By the time you get this message, I am already dead. This book must go with the Cleaver. When your spells tell you that Candle Lighter intends to attack the next day, bring the items or at least the knowledge of their whereabouts to the Wasp, at Club Calistria. Your payment shall arrive soon."

The few surviving kittens turn to look in horror--and anger.
How--how dare you! How dare you profane the bodies of our fellows!
The kittens (numbering about a dozen)all draw their greataxes.

The kitten vikings fly in, looking badly wounded. The Jarl speaks.
"G...greetings. We're here to help. The damned dracolich took out half of our number, and our only shaman, too. We're gonna have revenge. To do that, we must put aside our differences. Even though the Jacks are worse than a pile of scrap metal.
Will maybe post the attack on the Kitten thread, later, in the meantime gotta go bye!

Meow.

"I think not. I will die here, among the last of my race (of Kitten Viking Shamans, of course), but I shall stop you for long enough! Anti-Magic Field!"

The kitten finishes his spell, and Thieving Wasp (and the Cleaver)both disappear.
The cow and Diswiker do as well.

The kitten, using powerful magics, blocks the flame directed at Frogskin and Diswiker.
"I cannot win...but there can be a stalemate!"
The kitten begins speaking words of power...

"STOP!!!"
The ancient kitten shaman leaps in and counterspells.
"You shall not win this battle, creature.

*Flies in, looking depressed.*
We are in danger. The Candle Lighter has the Cleaver, and has kidnapped the Champion of the Boards. I must go.

A tennis ball launcher thingie it is! Anyone know the exchange rate for Poodle Pounds to Dollars?

Yep. Ya gotta take the amount of Poodle Pounds, then subtract that amount. That's how many dollars/pounds/euros/anything it's worth.

"This. Is. Bad. Leader?"
"Yes, I agree. We attack at once. Take the peasant captive. Only he can stop that thing."
"Err, do we have to? I don't really like the Jacks..."
"None of us do. But they are not evil, and they were the wronged--"
"Watch it, Shaman."
"Watch it, Oberjarl."
"Was that a threat?"
"Look, we have to stop it. It could cause terrible danger to us all. I hate to think what happens if all the Jacks die."
"Hmph. We'll see more about this later, but fine. ATTACK!!!"
The Kitten Vikings charge the Tsar with mithril greataxes.

BRAAWK!

The evil rises from the amphibian's lair!

GRAWK!

The cleaver lies in a smoky cat's claws...

Literally? Because we had no part in that.

Dancing around as the helmeted cats attack him in force, Logic-Elmer screeches wildly

I don't have my wule book! I don't know what to woll!

Desperately trying to avoid the greataxes, he tries one desperate gambit. He pulls forth an ancient D20 marked with two 1-10 sequences with the numbers crayoned in in two colors

BY THE POWER OF THE WHITE BOX GODS!

The skys darken and a flash of lightning strikes down, electrocuting the hapless nerd.

medic ..

*The kittens stare at Elmer, then, deciding he isn't worth it, depart*

Spanky the Leprechaun wrote:

"roit, roit guvnah...*blows whistle* now oy unnersand you've a loybriry book checked out....June 8th, 793 from the Lindisfarne Public Loybriry...by one.....Lisamarie Elvisdottir......oyas...ere it is....oyl be takin that off of yer parson a tha...chip chip in all tha...."

Hugs the large tome to his chicken chest

NOOOO! Officer you've got the wong gamist! This is my wevised and thouwoughly tested Tome of Wules to Cover Evewything. It's not some viking b***h...

Alright. you are going to get it. ATTACK!!!

Jarl of the Kitten Vikings wrote:

Anarcho-Syndicalist Peasant wrote:

The muddy peasant looks up at the faint voice

'fallows'? Like the field has been left unplowed for a season? Are you implying that the socioeconomic status of the peasant is somehow inferior? Oh that's rich. Bloody demons with their money and their exotic dancers. Bloody fat cat fiends. Always draining the soul of the proletariat.

Nudges SirHoustonDerek

Did you hear that? That's what I'm on about!

You can come over to our place, Peasant. We won't listen to you, but we won't beat you up, either. Unless the Cheshire Cat has too much catnip. But we usually hide it from him. It's a nice place, and has plenty to eat and drink.

We have a mouse, beer, and Lilith Cookies.

What do you have mice and milk?

Nay, we have ale and good, hearty meat! Not to mention some veggies....in case of visitors.

The muddy peasant looks up at the faint voice

'fallows'? Like the field has been left unplowed for a season? Are you implying that the socioeconomic status of the peasant is somehow inferior? Oh that's rich. Bloody demons with their money and their exotic dancers. Bloody fat cat fiends. Always draining the soul of the proletariat.

Nudges SirHoustonDerek

Did you hear that? That's what I'm on about!

You can come over to our place, Peasant. We won't listen to you, but we won't beat you up, either. Unless the Cheshire Cat has too much catnip. But we usually hide it from him. It's a nice place, and has plenty to eat and drink.

I say, why are we trusting KC's judgment in this matter? When have the thieves ever done a us a good turn?

We are no friend of KC. But, it is too late. The crystals are your only hope, for it comes....

4

*Quickly casts spell, crystal flies back to original position*

Of course they are Protection!!

there is no safe place to hide!!

I have added my spells. It is as strong as I can make it. We may need help, though. Whatever is coming is terrible.

Crimson Jester wrote:

~walks in looks around on the ground where there is residue of tribble, collects it with a kit on his belt~

*vanishes in a puff of smoke*

*KC's skull appears*

What is this? Protection from the Tribble Lord? No, you are putting the crystals in places he did not go. Is it a magical hazard?

It is a ward. Keep it safe!

Crimson Jester wrote:

~walks in and places shades on his eyes

"Wow, it is just way to bright in here! Hey Sunny G catch."
Throws a crystal in the air and Vanishes in a Puff of smoke.

Careful with that crystal. It may be dangerous.

Nay, it protects you all. Keep it safe!

Crimson Jester wrote:

~Looks around

Pulls out a crystal... plants it in the ground
"hmmm"

Careful. That may be dangerous. CJ recently ran into his Safehouse shouting 'It's coming'. I think it's a bomb, because the Jack's crystal is ticking.

It is a ward against something terrible.

Your actions are Flawed

Object is relocated to research station 2345656477

PUT IT BACK!!!! OR YOU ARE IN PERIL!

Protect the crystal! It is a ward!

*KC's skull shouts*

Careful! He's putting those in all the major threads! Beware!

No! Protect it! It protects us all!

Crimson Jester wrote:

Walks over to CDP and Hands him a crystal

"You really shouldn't eat this, but don't throw it away either"

Takes 2 steps back and *Vanishes in a puff of smoke

Beware, CPD. The crystal may be dangerous.

It is not! It protects against a terrible danger! Keep it safe!!!