Concentrating on her acting, even with the gig up, Seleste is going to maintain your captive act until initiative 3..."I am a sack of potatoes...I am a sack of potatoes..." She might as well BE a sack of potatoes. :-)
the Groom steps up to the rear stairs muttering a prayer for pain. Bête de Nuit dangling in his hand begins to drip glowing green drops on the deck. In a quick motion he whips his club about sending congealed jellyfish phosphorescence flying toward the halfling above him, burning on contact.
"I just need to remind them on occasion who they are really sailing for. Having a pretty lass under the 'hat' should help set the mood." the Groom goes to retrieve his gear from the tavern. When he returns he lays his hand upon the hull of the ship, setting his Brand upon the wood. Once he stows his sea bag he heads to the deck. Pulling a gold coin from his pocket, he throws it into the sea. To those giving him questioning looks, "Priming the pump. Besmara don't look for much from you lot, except respect. To her AND your fellow shipmates. Give her what's due and she gives her favor, such as leads to treasures and becalming winds for fat merchants. But if all you to do is take, she can take in return. All I lost was a finger for my sins, I heard your last Captain had her brain sucked out after abandoning part of her crew." the Groom finishes by spitting over the rail. He turns and sets off to report to the Captain.
the Groom steps forward to address the Captain, "Not so shorthanded. I'll add my mark to the ship's ledger, if'n you want to make the trip to Freeport a bit easier. I've sailed with a few of your crew already... the Groom turns to look back at the crew before turning back and thumbing towardsJim over his shoulder."ummm...Jim or Dibbits could vouch for me. I wield a few magics given from the Pirate Queen herself, that can make up for any the Grackle had hidden in his feathers. And these, my personal ballista and nail-studded club, are itching for any boarding actions."
Sacred Touch will be there when she is in a little bit more control. ;-) Right now adrenaline, fear, and disgust are having their way with her. I appreciate every one putting up with her young antics and hope it contributes to the normal dry debate of what to do with the prisoners.
oh we are getting there. :-) Just needed to get the TWeenage (she is a half-elf after all) dramatics going. Seleste seems to be having a Carrie kind of day.
"By the sounds of things, it is both your mates are adrift, despite how you feel about one. Aye, let's rattle the Birdhouse and move on from there."
Betony and Thistledown were maybe my second characters on these boards and I did have fun with them. By the way Skane, Thistledown says *woof* I remember the Saga well and the great Poetic Edda competition to get on one of the two teams. I had a gnome trying to be a redcap on team 'fey', he wasn't the most effective of assailants (being a knife wielding gnome in deep snowdrifts) but he was fun.
the Groom drinks the two toasts and then gets to his feet, hefting the crossbow. "Never trusted that nut. Didn't like how it distracted 'im from 'is fate on the SeaWraith. He looks down the weapon's length checking its aim, "I've been working out a special bane against it, but still couldn't tell iff'n it be demon or devil." the Groom leaves coins with the barkeep and heads for the door, "Let's get a hard look at this boat o'yours and see if she inspires me.
"Dibbits?" the Groom rises, gives the bottle a shake to make sure there be enough and comes around the table to greet his friend with a glad (albeit cold and damp) hand and a bottle of rum. Being the way he senses such things, the Groom is touched by the truthful heartfelt greeting. "Damn glad to see you again." the Groom does a quick look around to see if there were any others with the bedraggled halfling before turning to his apparently lone companion who gets a head nod of greeting that spills a few drops of seawater from his hat, "Zoss. And so we're clear, to anyone taller than Dibs 'ere, I am the Groom." Back to Dibs, "Your tale must be more o'the usual woes, for this daft Cap'n o'yours tis a fair bit off course to have ya wash up in Plumetown? I was gonna head back to Freeport and look for ya when things calmed down. Let me get settled to hear yer tale. You set off to supposedly give the snakes a shake down Sargava way?" Shaking his head, the Groom turns and heads back to his chair, indicating the others to sit. Before he reaches his chair the Groom starts laughing in that bubbling gurgle of his, "Your being here wouldn't have anything to do with rumors of-" Here the Groom sits and holds up his altered hand and counts off fingers starting with the thumb, "a 'Biggins, Shortround (pinkie), Fang Fu (middle finger), and some Whores' burning down a lighthouse? the Groom is left wagging his index finger as it seems 'Whores" didn't count, "Where was Jimmers, may I ask, during all this?" He takes his drink to quiet the laugh before it developed into a full-on cough rattle.
the Groom leans forward to pour more liquor from his bottle into the sailor's glass. A few droplets of seawater hit the table with notable splashes having fallen from his extended coat sleeve. The man eyes the glass and then the oversized crossbow on the table as the Groom places the bottle next to it and a small stack of gold sails. The weapon seemed poised to cover the front door. "Listen, it ain't all that a hard question. But if'n you want the sails, yer answer has to be better than what yer mate's mistress thought she saw. A Priestess of the Waves with rarefied manners would not be working a brothel." the Groom takes a deep breath in exacerbation as the man only offers a shrug. The deep breath sends the inquisitor into a rattling wet cough the doubles him over. The man takes the opportunity to down his drink quickly and place his hands back in his lap. the Groom straightens up, eyes the empty glass, and leans forward again pinching the bridge of his nose. "You do know for shite's sake I know yer lying, right? Tell ya what...you can still pocket the coins iff'n you seen a 'bino gnome, paler than me. That, or a piece o'work halfling by the name of Half-hitch maybe running with the Witch of these parts...remembering about the lying, mind ya."
I enjoyed rereading the group's jungle adventure. I ran my home group through Racing to Ruin and made Nkechi a cantankerous blind jungle oracle guide. His healing was usually some nasty concoction he would brew up and then spit into (he said it was necessary) but for a group without a cleric, they drank a lot of his spit. At the villages they visited there was always some old crone who claimed to be his wife....good times. I also enjoyed reading the totem ceremony, as that went over well in my group as well. And well, King Kaul in the Heart of Darkness...I was disappointed by the lack of thrown poo. Sorry the Groom missed out on all those knowledge checks for you guys. Hope to rectify that soon. Rereading the Magpie Adventures right now...or Dingus gets a Kimono as it will down in the annals...but I have to read on because I can't remember how he will lose this one.
I've been catching myself up rereading the game thread. I am at the point you got out of the sewers and visited the council. I loved Dingus' insanity. But Kaul's suggestion of an "orkini" still has me laughing as I post this. That picture was so.....wrong.
Fun with spellcheck Today while editing I came across a passage I wrote a while back that involved 'a shaft of light'. My spellchecker flagged it because what I wrote was 'a shart of light'. Now my story does involve the Tuatha Dé Danann and maybe one of them could shart a ray of golden light. But for now, I am just grateful that the word is not common enough to be in my writing program dictionary.
I enjoy Muli immensely as well. I always thought shapeshifting was handled a little too cleanly in Pathfinder. Muli is the resort of brute forcing transformations that leave his mind littered with little pieces from each change.
You left off the Reckoner: the Apocalyptic preacher who was staked out and left to die in the sun...it didn't take. I love it. Some of these are not too far off the mark. I have a bear shaman. There is a snake totem of sorts but the hero doesn't learn its name in book one...well he does now <yoink>. And he does meet a circus of sorts, could there be a be-fezzed monkey? Either way, now I want to play this!
Hello all you crazed water rats! I missed you guys. Its been a while. It is good to see every one going strong and dealing with their inherent insanity. I meant to check in at the new year, but since then I felt my ears burning. I caught up on the discussion thread and its nice to be remembered fondly, even if only for the Groom's knowledge skills. I am still in a very precarious job situation and am sorry to find Dibs in his situation and so much upheaval surrounding the rest of you. Hope things work out. I saw the discussion on Tim Powers a bit back and agree as he is one of my favorites as well. And he is one of my inspirations. Along those lines.... Well I took my job and mental health uncertainties a year ago or so, checked out of my timesinks and sat down and wrote a novel. It wasn't the novel I sat down to write, but I like where I ended up. My elevator pitch is its a retelling of Cuculain in the American Old West as told by Hayao Miyazaki (think Spirited Away or Princess Mononoke). SO it is basically a historical fantasy western. It seems to be good timing as westerns and steampunk westerns are on the rise. I am in the editing and polishing phase now and hope to have it out to agents in the spring. I don't want to give too many details on an open internet site but you can message me if you want more details or if you want to help by taking a read through and giving criticism where needed. I look forward to catching up on the groups' exploits since I disappeared in the game thread. With the Cap'n's permission I would like to linger here a share a few good laughs with you guys. This is the first I put my head above water of late and thought of saying 'Hi' here first. Dave
Muli pulls a small ball of feathers from his bag and gives it a squeeze. "Cluck-cluck boom-boom" Muli steps back to avoid the teeth and sends a small Ptarmigan fluttering toward the beast.
FIRE damage
"Muli sees a Trowhund! Give it...<chitter-chitter>....Fire!...Give it fire!" Muli lobs a chipmonk and it explodes in gouts of flame down the hall.
Cearb is really temped to curl up in Kelgar's lap as he naps. It would be like some kind of creepy alternate reality Norman Rockwell painting
Looking to Kabal and Winter as his role models, Sebastian strikes a similar pose, shifting his feet about till he was satisfied that his posture appeared warrior-like.
Cearb nudges Bastagar and whispers, "Psst, a house sidhe is about, Brownie or Buttery by the looks of it." He pulls off his red cap and makes a few motions to smooth the tangles and twigs of his hair. He shrugs, "Just in case shes pretty"
Cearb ears go up, and he smiles as he comes to a rest upon the dog's back, "Ah, rescue a child, it is good we came upon you, that is something I have experience with..." Then his smile fades a bit and he looks momentarily confused before continuing more brightly again, "...sort of the same...reversed a bit, I guess...but if the Witches have them, we can help see them free, I am sure they make very neglectful mothers, seem to lose their sons a lot, never hear of man-witches..." Not sure anyone is listening or paying attention the rest of Cearb's prattle is lost as he pulls up his yeti hood, which swallows up his head and his voice, but by the way the yeti head bobs, it is clear he is still continuing his one-sided conversation.
With the way my life is right now, I prefer a slow pace. Getting officially caught up today (having overcome life and work backlogs), so will be available for posting here on out. TwilightRose - I hope things improve. I feel like I know exactly how you feel right now.
"Wait!" Seleste goes to follow. To stop him. And grows to 10 feet high and takes a big step to block his path. "Oh, um, sorry, didn't mean for that to happen.." Her cheeks bright red. She shrinks back down in statue, and in a sheepish voice asks, "Would you like answers more than revenge? Would you like to ask the bull why it did what it did? I can do that if you let me, but he is your bull." Turning to look at the bull, she finds it easier to express her thoughts, "Someone or something seems to compel the animals in this village and the Woods to go wild. Your bull, normally docile I take it, suddenly went wild, didn't he. I would at least like to hear his thoughts on the matter before you kill him and your livelihood. I have a way with animals, I can talk to him in a manner of speaking."
I got to enjoy Skane in a previous incarnation, so it would be good to see him stick about.
Reading these over, really shows how this group's insanity has lightened up the Groom. Or maybe that is just the form of his own insanity,. You wrestle enough tongues, sink on enough ships, get stranded on enough islands, fight enough demonic girlfriends, see enough yellow, almost eat enough ratpies is bound to change a man.
Leaving the house, Seleste will bid farewell to the door guardians. She knocks to the carved door trim to make sure they are awake. "Don't let him stray too far, he might find it hard to remember to come back." She calls into the house thinking she might have confused the old man, "That was just me Papa, we are leaving, thank you. She meanders through the village, passing house entries, and muttering to herself. "...if someone is prowling at night, they would know....if they are awake...lazy guardians..."
Sebastian wears a bored and sleepy expression but takes in all the sites without becomes too obvious. He occasionally nudges Sable to look at certain things or to get him/her to remain composed and close his/her slack jaw.
"That is him. It is no no-face dog, but a man of sorts that Muli burned."
Muli's snout and facial hair twitch. "He has stopped running and waits for us...he gives off the smell of one burned....<chitter>"
A found an ice pick lodged in my skull the other day. The police say my fingerprints were all over it. Thing is, I don't remember how it got there. What were we talking about? Something to do with..... *Snick* ...dammit I did it again. You think the police wouldn't give the icepick back so quickly. But there it is.... ...in my brain again.
Muli looks at Frerin's healing stick and nods appreciatively, "Less old fish taste that way." "But come this way. A man on fire curse Muli from back here." He points further down the main corridor.
Cearb lets the Princess dote on him a bit as he was really too weak to resist. Finally gathering his strength, he separates himself to say what needs to be said. Cearb will doff his dirty white hat to stand by the fallen Olaf. He stands there a while until he breaks the silence with a just a few words, "Find your way safely on your next path. Look for Ng if you lose your way." He dips his hat into the pooled blood Olaf spilled "Some blood of a friend...." He moves over to the Trow and finds where he had stabbed it deep in the leg and swabs much more blood into the fabric, "Lots of blood of my foe," He now moves to the fallen sprite he knifed and dabs the hat in the small pool, "Witches' reign will end..." and here he placed the crystallizing red cap back on his head, "When their blue blood flows." Father...Grungir. Give me the power to see this done!
Cearb coughs up a gob of blood, and spits it at the Trow. "You're gonna need a bigger spear." The flint strikes again, sinking deep in the Trow's thigh.
"Looks like Dingus makes his own fun." the Groom follows along.
"Ouh. You look haggard. Muli has got the remedy." Muli pulls out what looks like a small dried salmon. He pours something out of a vial into the fish's mouth, pops in a cork and gives it a few rough shakes. Taking out the cork, he hand the fish to Ragnar, "Drink up, best in one gulp, before the taste sets in." If Ragnar drinks:
At this rate we are hoping to last the full 15 Rounds and get a TKO or win on points.
Seleste will turn aside as the others go to enter the Shrine. She will kneel by the fresh grave and ask in a low voice, "Is there anything we can do? Use Spirit Sense Before rising she will place one of her Goodberries on Old Yurt's grave, for when he gets hungry, so he won't have to go far. She will then duck in and join the others, but first say 'hello' to the carved faces on the door lintel and posts.
That made me laugh Mikel....assisting the 31
"Father or Bull, whichever is first." As they walk, Seleste seems a little uncomfortable at Keara's praise. "Hmmm...well, it's not the respect of nature as you call it. I've killed wolves before when needed. And we raised animals on our farm..they weren't pets. It's just I have a...a 'respect' for what comes next. There is enough weirdness out there, like in this village, that you don't need a Wolf Spirit or a Forest Spirit to join in the mayhem. They might crowd out any other all-knowing spirits hanging about and how would that go over. Ha! She mutters petulantly, more to herself, "Crowded enough as it is."
Wilber? Is that You?: the Groom starts trying to back up the stairs pushing against Dibbets. "I got nothing against so many. I could insult them, but what can I say that a rat aint heard."
Seleste flushes a bit, "Obey and Choice are two very different things. Magics are here that seem to overwhelm the mind of the weak. Animals are one thing, lets hope that it can be resolved before it comes to you ripping the jaw off a villager." Seleste immediately puts a hand to her mouth, surprised that such words came out of her mouth. It deflates some of her anger. ".....Yes. Let's hope we can prevent that..."
Both very funny! The Stiff Breeze?
After breakfast, Seleste unties a small pouch from her belt and carries it out into the farm yard. She finds a clear area, out of the way but with a good view of the rising sun. She sits cross-legged and draws a circle in the dirt before her, then leans back appearing to meditate. At some point she opens her eyes and upends the pouch over the circle, emptying a collection of rectangular stones upon the ground. She draws lines between certain stones as she adjusts her head to the left or right as if trying to see some invisible string joining the stones that she is trying to copy in the dirt. Those she doesn't connect she removes from consideration and places each upright on the eastern edge of the circle to cast its small shadow into the defined space. She finally comes to a pause, fourteen stones lay in the circle connected by a spiderweb of lines. She looks at the faint runes etched but long worn on their surface. Fifteen others stand sentinel in a semicicle before her. As she stares, their small shadows seemingly grow and cross the circle, and she notes where each shadow crosses a drawn line. She closes her eyes and the shadows recess. She remains this way for a few moments and then with eyes still close reaches out and picks up the surrounding stones, dropping each into the bag. Then her hand goes unerringly to each stone in the circle and grabs each in turn to have them join their brethren in the pouch. She opens her eyes and reaches out and smooths the dirt with her hands. After getting to her feet, Seleste heads back to the barn to grab her gear before going and meeting the tragic bull. But she will comment, "I am ready to go, but the wolf should be taken into the woods first. Not buried...that is not the animal way, but treated with respect....enough spirits are already arrayed against this village, we don't need to add the Dead. You are welcome to join me, if not, I will not be long."
Seleste spends a bit of the morning trying to straighten her hair and get all the hay out of it. "Good morning children. Thank you for the surprise." She takes her bowl gladly and pours on a heavy dose of cream. She nods toward the Mikel, "Leave him his there, he will eat it soon enough once he realizes this is fine enough for the likes of us."
Seleste snaps her head to look at Niklos....as the wolf howls she gives her head a sad shake, ....do not think it. Putting away her sword, Seleste turns to Leith, "Come this way. We are bunked in the barn." She leads the way, seemingly keeping a muted conversation with herself, leaving Leith to wonder actually who she meant by we. "I didn't say it....I didn't want him to say it either, but I didn't want to say it, to make him not say it.....the morning, the morning, alright?" Once in the barn, she carefully lays the shield and sword with her pack and armor, and slips back into her bedroll.
Not hearing any of the complaints as worthy concerns compared to what can be gained, "I'm impressed Sir. What an opportunity to get into the minds of the enemy. My only question is, 'Do I get to pick my swapper?' I want to make sure I get one that Kabal didn't punch in the face too much."
"There was an earlier incident. We were to check on the animal come morning. A supposed gentle beast killed a young lad. It would rule out something in the feed, if stabled and wild animals are affected." She turns away with the obvious threat over and mutters to herself, "Alright. Enough with the scary stuff. I am standing out here and only half dressed in my flannels.....thank you." She turns back looking relieved as she seemingly shrinks back to a normal size.
Watching the warrior woman, Sebastian was definitely reminded of his mother. When she goes to give him a big hug, other...conflicting thoughts spring to mind...He sits quietly and wonders why exactly his mind bounced between those two thoughts. |
