Dotting for interest.
I have several characters, all 1e, that never got a real chance to shine. I'd like to present them for consideration.
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I'm fine to do it, except I was waiting for confirmation from the ladies and Poog that they want to participate. ^^; I thought they might not be interested.
My home internet is being ... less than cooperative (again), and I may not be able to come online everyday. Please don't think that I've given up on the game! I hope service will return to normal soon. When that time comes, if everyone's cool with the epilogue, I'll post it here. ;)
Thirded, that was excellent!
Whoever opens the envelope finds a letter inside, which reads as follows: ' By the time you read this, I shall have died. Please do not be too upset; I have known that I was not long for this world for over twenty years now. The end comes a bit suddenly, but I have been prepared. I do not pass from this world free of all regret, but I believe I have achieved what I set out to do. Let me share with you a confession: I lied to you when you asked about the curse on my homeland -- I especially lied to poor Poog, for which I apologize. You see, it does not only strike the land; its terms also affect my family. If the curse only affected our lands, even a stubborn bunch like the Greers would have moved out, rather than continue to squat at the edge where we had to keep looking at the horror that had been inflicted upon our ancestral home. The purpose of a curse is to inflict suffering, after all. By the terms of the curse, the blood of Greer is bound to the land of Greer. Any man or woman who bears the blood of Greer and does not live at the edge of our homeland shall "find their life running through their fingers like sand". And so we have continued to suffer. Every generation, the head of the family would make sure to conceive at least two children. One an Heir to stay at home and keep our family and those few families of loyal retainers remaining to us going -- and one to go out into the world as Questor and seek some remedy for our predicament. It is true; I feel I have lived a long life, but my wrinkles, weak stomach and white hair came to me when my older brother was still dark-haired and hearty. Would you believe my distant ancestors were noble Paladins? While we continue to embrace the cause of Good, we have strayed far from the Knighthood they once espoused. I have no idea what manner of being or beings they angered to land this curse on us. Who- or whatever it was, it must have been -- and continues to be -- powerful, indeed! We have petitioned priests, wise men, shamans, wizards, sages... all to no avail. The land continued to be tainted, the Questors continued to wither and die while their older siblings remained young and healthy.
I do not say 'the last' to be dramatic. As I mentioned, I have a brother -- or rather, had a brother. He is gone now, dead from food poisoning, and he left behind only his Heir: my niece Sand. (For some reason, I suspect some fatalism or malice in her naming. My brother sometimes suffered from odd moods in life.)
Forgive me, I find myself rambling a bit. This is a curious sensation, my life not simply spilling away, but rushing headlong like a waterfall. I am a bit dizzy. No matter. The point I am trying to make is, the Ruby Phoenix' treasure vault is my last hope. I must be the one to succeed. And I believe that hope is justified! The way the curse quickened in me the very instant the Emissary told us we had won tells me so. Whatever malice has been plaguing my family, it is trying to cheat me of the victory of my life -- of the lives of all the Greer Questors. I come to you, my comrades-in-arms. My friends. I ask that you deliver my family's salvation to my homeland in my place; I can promise you a warm welcome. Grovnaidel will show you the way, if you will but agree to do me this final service. As I am dying, I should like to bestow some of my belongings on you, my comrades. Please do not see this as something as crass as payment, but rather as a memento of the great things we have done together. It was a fine adventure, quite possibly the best one I have ever experienced. I was honoured to fight by your side, and I can think of no one better suited to carry salvation home to my family than you, the Warriors of the Five Elements. To Asha Ghadvhi, I give my Boots of Elvenkind. You are a wondrous, talented dancer and I see the honour of my distant ancestors in you. May these boots enhance your performances for years to come.
To Poog Bonebane, I leave my amulet of natural armour. You love fire, Poog, and I wish you joy of it, but this amulet should come in handy in case your ardent love leads you into peril (be it from wild flames or from someone who finds issue with your love of it).
To Zakarras, I give my Wakizashi. It is a simple blade, but I give it to you for those occasions where you must fight up close. Do not doubt that I deeply admire your archery skills, but fate throws us bitter surprises at times.
To Zarina Malora, I leave my ring of evasion. You are a mighty warrior and a powerful spellcaster, but I fear that sometimes your great passions might lead you into danger. This ring should help you avoid at least some of the harm you might encounter.
I ask that you deliver what remains of my possessions to my niece Sand, with one exception: Grovnaidel.
Let me see, let me see. Should I say anything more?
Oh, yes. Please have the body of my familiar, Rach, buried along with mine. I suppose that's it. He is so stubborn; he says he will join me on my final journey, and I lack the strength to cut our bond. Yes. My body. My family has worshipped Mirarae, goddess of the moon and justice, for generations, but she has no priests in Tien Xia to hang my body in a tree for the elements to claim. I have therefore entrusted my burial arrangements to the priesthood of Qi Zhong, whose ways I have also followed; the lord of good magic and medecine has been kind to the Greer Questors who visited this land before me. I really can't seem to think of anything else. Was there anything else? Let me bore you with a quote of Mirarae's faithful, one we often throw at each other for burials.
Goodbye.
Heeeeeere we gooo~! :D
Let's bring 'er home. :)
... Ouch. What a terrible choice to make for Asha.
"My hands are a bit shaky, good priest," Simon says, his smile feeble. "First of all, I would appreciate it if you would write something down for me..."
"My, my, what a day," Simon says, chuckling. "A great victory and a flower in each hand. I am truly blessed."
"Thank you, dear lady," Simon says, bowing his head to Tsavati as he pats her arm. "Thank you for your hard work today, Lady Guardian of the Phoenix. I am grateful that you decided to stay." Simon looks back to the others for a moment and smiles more strongly.
Simon looks from Poog to Zakarras and a feeble smile blossoms on his lips. "Thank you both," he says, his voice quavering. "Yes. Some rest would be just the thing." The old man starts to bow to the Emissary, but stops when it seems he is on the verge of collapse.
The old man continues to smile, a small blush on his cheeks as he stares into the middle distance..
Very slowly, Simon wipes his blade clean -- on Wu Dizhen's clothes. The sentient rapier makes a sound somewhere between a snort of sardonic mirth and the harsh clang of steel on steel at the gesture. Simon's expression is solemn, but haggard after the Emissary's words about the Reward. Still with that painful slowness, the old man sheaths his blade -- and leans heavily on his cane, his shoulders slumping and his body seeming almost to wither as his years settle on him like a leaden mantle. Somehow, it looks as if here stands a loser, rather than a winner in battle. "Finally. I shall look forward to the coming day, then," Simon Greer says. "The coming day... I... I..." Heavy coughs wrack Simon's body, and his frame shakes with them. "If you all do not mind," he manages to gasp out between coughs, fresh blood staining his lips. "I should... would appreciate some help getting up to my room. The... the excitement. Finally, I..." The coughing fit seems to be growing only worse instead of better, and Simon can barely manage to stay standing, let alone walk.
"Time for you to lie down and sleep, dear hag," Simon says as he darts in again, Grovnaidel gleaming as it seeks Wu Dizhen's blood.
Simon darts in and out again, his blade flashing and crackling with electricity. "It is already over," he says, his voice grim as a hanging judge's verdict. "And you have lost. This ill-conceived plan has failed. You have failed."
"Twice the magician, ten times the warrior, and yet not even half the person I am, witch!" Simon shouts back with cold disdain as he rushes forward, then launches into a series of somersaults and cartwheels that end him behind Wu Dizhen. Immediately, Grovnaidel flickers out, the blade full of a cold reflection of the sun's light overhead.
At the same time, the blink dog continues to attack Wu Jufeng, its bark dopplering oddly as it continues to fade into and out of existence. For all its alien qualities, the expression on its face as it attempts to savage the evil woman is plain enough to understand: if the blink dog has anything to say about it, it will soon be snacking on Wu Dufeng's rump!
Simon finishes his chant -- and a dog appears. Or does it? The animal seems to fade into and out of existence constantly, its voice echoing weirdly. The old man turns to Zarina's battle - and his eyes widen in shock. "Zarina, get away from her! Fifteen feet or further! That spell is going to blast you if you don't!" Regardless whether Zarina listens or not, Simon turns his attention to Zakarras, trapped in the orb of force - and he levels his hand at the cage in a commanding manner, his voice ringing out with arcane power: "Aranea arcanorum rescindenda est!"
Simon completes his chant -- a ringing note sounds over the din of battle -- and shouts: "Zarina, get away from her! Fifteen feet or further! That spell is going to blast you if you don't!" Meanwhile, the summoning spell takes its effect: a single, raven-like bird with a plaster mask has appeared behind the oncoming thugs, and starts to croon an unearthly melody as it rises into the sky.
Simon steels himself against the toxic vapours -- and actually uses them to his advantage, hiding in the cloud while he issues a ringing shout:
Simon darts in, attacking Gomwai from behind yet again. Once again, his rapier lights up wit arcs of electricity as the old man seeks to jab it into the Hobgoblin's tender bits -- then leaps clear once more.
The air behind Gomwai suddenly blurs and darkens, then seems to warp as Simon becomes visible, Grovnaidel already lancing for the Hobgoblin's kidneys. The blade crackles with electricity as the old man jabs it into the Hobgoblin's flesh. "We may not be out of the woods, sirra, but you are lost in its shadows," the old man says in a cold tone of voice as he leaps backwards.
Simon starts to chant a spell - and then just seems to vanish.
I humbly apologize for my unannounced - and entirely unplanned - absence.
Simon clasps his hands together on Grovnaidel's hilt and starts to chant. The sapient blade seems to tremble in the old man's grasp as he invokes his magic.
"" Simon shouts, clued in by Asha. ""
Simon heads to the final pillar remaining.
Hey, it's been an awesome thrill-ride. ^^
My home internet has been down since yesterday evening, and I am only posting now by the good grace and hospitality of my sister. ^^; Until this problem is resolved, I can't post every day.
"Of course," Simon says to Asha, shrugging. "Regardless whether Kian Zheng is allied with the criminals, as you seem to think, she is Oni. She delights in death and suffering."
"Merciful heavens forfend," Simon mutters. "That beastly Oni would probably set us up with the worst possible kind she could lay her hands on."
"I have several weak restorative potions left," Simon says as the Warriors regroup. "You are welcome to them, if you wish." The old man's face is creased with worry as he looks at Asha, and shakes his head. "No matter what the Emissary said, that was too close for comfort..."
"" Simon shouts, and he points a single finger at the monstrous beast. "Asha, get clear! NOW!" A tiny bead of flame flies from Simon's finger up to a point somewhere above the monster's two heads -- and then expands into a roaring sea of flame!
"Tricksy bastard, aren't you, double-header?" Simon calls, his voice taunting. "Fret not, though; if there is feasting to be done in the Boneyard, you shall most likely be seated at Pharasma's table before nightfall! Or else you shall be reclining upon it, bedded down in lettuce and spuds, with an apple jammed into each mouth!" .
Simon narrows his eyes when he spots Kiang Zhen and briefly nods to her. A cynic might construe an element of mocking in the gesture, but it is such a brief one. Surely it is merely a perfunctory politeness to an official...?
The old man erupts into a series of cartwheels, which ends quite close to the ettin. And it ends in an arc of steel and crackling electricity, as Simon stabs at the beast with Grovnaidel, the magical rapier's blade wreathed in arcs of lightning!
Right after the attack, Simon launches into a series of backflips, moving him out of the beast's range if at all possible.
Certainly. Feel free to toss me an application. ^^
Thanks! ^_^ I hope this one will actually finish as planned. Having a pre/made AP may help.
Simon raises a fist, calling for attention before the demonstration can begin. "Lord Emissary!" he shouts. "The brine dragon left a considerable chunk of treasure behind! I request that what remains be used to pay for Seishuku's restoration to life, should he wish to return from his eternal reward! He is a skilled Ninja, with whom we had no true quarrel!"
Oh, it is definitely the finest choice for SMI under most circumstances.
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