With your efforts, a delicious dinner is cooked and the arguments cease as you bring harmony (and a bomb) into the household.
The witchwyrd, excited, waited with glee
For an explosion to waste his enemy.
But, the explosion didn't come. All was silent.
When? Morvruul wondered, will it all turn violent?
Then Morvruul realized, far too late
The reason, his "gift" would not detonate.
The schemer forgot to activate the fuse.
No his enemy'd go unharmed, not even a bruise.
As the others quietly remembered, those present and not here.
Morvruul smiled and thought, There is always next year!
phaeton_nz wrote:
After a minute of silence, she invites everyone to enjoy the Reunion feast.
And he, he himself...Morvruul...carved the roast-beast!
Anticipating just how long the fight would take
Morvruul concludes his calculations were a mistake.
The death of the arabuk certainly did not
Take as long as he had, if momentarily, thought.
Cha'mon Cha'mon wrote:
"Let's see about putting together a travois"
Oh! Morvruul pondered/ How his voice does so annoy!
More,
Cha'mon Cha'mon wrote:
"To make it easier to get dinner home."
Make a travois? Out of what? Some tape and a comb?
Cha'mon Cha'mon wrote:
"Morvruul, stay as far away from me as possible while I work."
As IF, I'd go anywhere near you, you demanding jerk.
Navasi-SZ wrote:
"I have a healing serum here if you need it, Morvruul."
Healing serum, yes! That is a useful tool.
Navasi-SZ wrote:
"That was quite a hit you took there. Aren't you glad you had..."
Had what? A pistol? Four fists? Armor, well-clad?
Navasi-SZ wrote:
she casts a glance at Cha'mon, "friends along to help?"
In response, Movruul raises a hand, as if to deliver a skelp.
"I am certain I could have handled it, all on my own. If given the chance. Had I been left alone."
Morvruul returned with the others, while keeping his distance
From Cha'mon Cha'mon, at the damai's insistence.
The whole way back, as he trekked, Morvruul tried to devise
A host of scenarios in which, the damai dies.
He went back with the Starfinders to the celebration spot
Only to then spy Orence and realize what he had forgot!
"Curses!" bemoaned Morvruul as the word left his lip.
"I just remembered the 'gift' is still on the ship!"
Rushing back to the vessel, he grabbed it, and hence,
Returned to the house, to present to the adult, Orence.
"I have a present for you," Morvruul said with a covered smile.
"It is one that I've been wanting to give for a while."
Hastily grabbing the wrapped bomb, the witchwyrd did shove it
Into the other's lap, saying, "Take it! You'll love it!" Bluff:1d20 + 13 ⇒ (13) + 13 = 26
Cha'mon Cha'mon Has been struck! Strike again Now, arabuk! "BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
Morvruul laughs some. And more.
Maim the damai! Time to gore!
Morvruul prepares to gloat
When before his eyes
A dart strikes fur!
The arabuk dies!
The witchwyrd's reminded
More arabuk, him threaten.
So Morvruul points
And shoots his weapon.
One of them, a human female, is rather shy but greets Cha'mon, as they had been together on a tour of the Veskarium and even says hello to Morvruul saying that "she had heard a lot about you, mostly from Miss ... erm ... Doctor Seggas".
During the parade, Morvruul was able to deliver his gift.
Though his scheme went not
As he prior did intend,
Morvruul is pleased to hear
Word of his, er, um... "friend".
"Doctor Seggas, you say?"
Asks he, the woman to talk t'her.
"I'd much like to again see The... notable doctor."
"Should you see her soon Please do give to her This item here. To her, to deliver."
Reaching into a pocket
A vial he retrieves,
Which he hands to the female,
And in her hand he leaves.
"Please take this gift to Seggas. When her you next find,"
He says with hope this holiday,
To remain on Seggas' mind
Cha'mon Cha'mon, desperately tries to put the restrictor plate back on the float's engine when he realizes Morvruul is driving.
Driving through the streets
Morvruul begins to glower.
It would seem a restrictor plate's Draining the float's power.
Down alleys he continues
Trying quite hard to race,
Yet, accomplishing no more
Than a rather slow pace.
When Morvruul's eyes with a look,
His destination do take.
Suddenly, the witchwyrd manages
To slam on the brake.
Stopping the float,
Placing the "gift" 'neath an arm
Morvruul rushes to deliver
The object of harm.
He strides up to the door
Of the dwelling of Orence,
The name of the foe with which
He schemes to dispense.
Preparing to knock,
He spots a note upon
The door, which says,
"Sorry. I'm not here. I have gone
Home for Reunion
Back to the Planet Akiton."
"Drat." mutters Morvruul
Now, suddenly, withdrawn.
With his explosive still in hand
And a mask-covered frown,
He releases a sigh,
Then turns back around.
Getting back in the float
He rides out the rest of the parade
Thinking quietly to himself
Of new schemes to be made.
Morvruul attempts to make sense of the suddenly-present jester.
Hoping to determine what can do more than it pester.
Engineering(?) to ID:1d20 + 10 ⇒ (16) + 10 = 26 Immunities? Weakness? Either which you think is best?
Drawing his gun, he rushes 'round the float to a spot
Where he hopes he can effectively fire a shot.
Bluff to Trick:1d20 + 13 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 13 + 4 = 19 Ranged (tactical semi-auto pistol) v jester KAC:1d20 + 4 ⇒ (8) + 4 = 12 Damage (P):1d6 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7 Add Trick Damage:1d8 ⇒ 2
"Great touch," Navasi tells Morvruul, "letting it get singed a bit. That's exactly what is expect it to look like, but I never would have thought of it. I can trek you've been to some good concerts!"
"I've been to a few,"
Movruul replies with truth.
He escapes for a time
To memories of youth.
"As for the hoodie, I did not wish it harm. Though it clearly could use Another place for an arm."
As infernos erupt around him,
Morvruul attempts to distinguish
The best device to apply
To the fire to extinguish.
He quickly scans the room,
In an effort to locate
A fire suppression system
To make the flames abate.
Unable to lay visuals on where
Any suppression nozzles may be,
Morvruul heads for the devices
He is sure he can see.
In an effort to help The situation improve, Morvruul's actions this round Are to make a double move.
He points a Morvruul, "Ignore him and whatever he says. He's on some new medication and it makes him delusional."
Sigh, looks like my last attempt at a post didn't make it.
"Ignore whatever The damai may have alluded. The truth is it's he That's the one that's deluded,"
Morvruul replies
For edification,
Before he pauses to check
On his own medication.
Later as the skittermanders
Go about their way
Morvruul makes new plans
For the new holiday.
If I can't stop First Choices I now know what I'll do! I'll deliver my present bomb During the Spark that is New!
With a new plan in place,
Getting him out of a lurch,
Morvruul sets himself
To finding some merch!
I've no time for this? ponders Movruul
As he peers around the shop.
I must find away to bring First Choices to a stop!
For within a few hours, That shirren we met Along with one of my enemies, Who I wish I could forget, Will all get together.
The witchwyrd does muse.
And then? Oh, they will choose! How they'll choose! CHOOSE CHOOSE!
Then, gifts will be exchanged! Some of which may amuse. But, alas, my enemy won't be getting My gift with the fuse!
What a disaster! broods Movruul,
This day is becoming! I must find a way to keep First Choices from coming!
"BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Morvruul cackles.
Before getting himself composed.
Then, he inquires of Dot.
"Are you by any chance... closed?"
"Mind you manners, Morvruul we are in someone's home. I know you may not be able to comprehend this, but the world doesn't revolve around your machinations."
"Oh, I'll mind my manners."
Morvruul says from behind.
Though when I get a chance to get MY way It'll be YOUR HOME that I've truly mined!
With landmines and explosives! he thinks
As he starts to quietly scheme away.
Before, sadly recalling the last order he made
Still sits on Akiton due to delay.
A damai with an ironic look on his face approaches the table. He looks like he's been enjoying the food and companionship in the cafeteria. He's possibly had a few too many drinks from the way he wobbles a little as he walks, but as soon as he sees Morvruul his eyes stares daggers at him and he seems to immediately sober up.
"Hello, Morvruul..."
At such uttering of his name,
Morvruul grows quite annoyed.
For the source, he knows well,
Is one he'd prefer to avoid.
"Hello, Cha'mon Cha'mon,"
The witchwyrd says with a sneer.
"I'd have turned down this mission Had I'd known you were here."
Morvruul says nothing more
Keeping word terse.
As he ponders to himself.
How could this get worse?
Bad enough that one explosive I'd ordered Tis now so long overdue. But, with Cha'mon Cha'mon now present I could really use TWO!
As those in his presence keep speaking
Morvruul remains deep in thought,
First Choices cannot proceed. It simply must NOT!
The witchywrd kept on thinking
Of ways to arrange
Events to his liking
To delay gift exchange.
At least, he thought,
With parties set for tonight. I still have time left To ensure things are right.
To delay the holiday. There's several hours still yet To do away with signs of the holiday. To make the others forget.
Then he once again heard Camellia speaking.
Her words overwhelmed him.
phaeton_nz wrote:
Kinnik’s in need of aid,
and I know you’re just the folks to help him!
"Our aid's ill-advised," said Morvrrul.
"For your edification, If Kinnick is anxious, Then he need's medication!"
"A reasonable course, Which I think is best Is hold off for a few days Until all get their rest."
I'll get Chronicles out in a day or so - still curious about why Morvruul was in a hurry to get to the Lorespire
Heh, the truth is I don't really know for sure. He had some scheme cooked up that the Data Scourge put an end to. He has a beef with Celita--he fears that she knows about his unsavory spying and criminal activities--so perhaps he was planning some trick or scheme on her. I just wanted to give him a reason to keep wanting to get to the Lorespire Complex and to be repeated thwarted.
Only for failing to take you out when I had the chance! muses Morvruul.
Spying the mass of bots, Morvruul says aloud. "There are far too many of those automatons to take on at once, even for one with my skills. But, it is not matter. Let them march off to wherever they need to go. As for me, I need to get to the Lorespire Complex!"
With his pistol in one of his many hands, Morvruul seeks shelter from the rampaging robot. He then points his firearm at Cha'mon Cha'mon!
Bluff to Trick:1d20 + 13 + 4 ⇒ (7) + 13 + 4 = 24 Ranged (tactical semi-auto pistol) v mechanoid KAC:1d20 + 4 ⇒ (19) + 4 = 23 Damage (P):1d6 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3 Add Trick Damage:1d8 ⇒ 4
Morvruul spontaneously throws up all of his arms in a sudden expression of joy as rapturous tears well up in his eyes.
Amidst the instantaneous deluge of emotion, the witchwyrd carelessly drops his firearm, which strikes against the ground and discharges in the direction of the robot.
Morvruul analyzes this new obstacle. "Look!" he shouts to Cha'mon Cha'mon, "This mechanoid has more of a brain atop its neck than you!" Engineering to ID:1d20 + 10 ⇒ (6) + 10 = 16 Surprise me!
Morvruul pushes his way past the others in an effort to find some cover. Then (assuming, he believes a projectile can damage it...otherwise, he will use a flare gun) he fires on the headless robot.
Morvruul, hoping to end this delay to his efforts to get to the Lorespire Complex, moves where he can get a clear shot. "You think me a tasty meal, eh?"
