*hoists an ale to the crowd*
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Stand back! I have this. *gets buried by bird dumplings* heeelllp
Ack! Poodle attack! Repel the wanna-be border collies! *opens fire with a new Uzi*
Now, that's what I'm talkin' about!
Yuse shouldn't a oughta made the Boss mad.
I'd sooner @%#$ a wookie!Then get in there you big hairy oof, I don't care what you smell.Not where it counts!Mmmm...Star porn.Aren't you a little short to be a stormtrooper? mmmm...back hair....
Warforged's grin widens Hello, Muffy, Mindy, and especially Molly...
Devlyn stifles a laugh as he finishes his coffee and goes for a refill...and some food. Hmmm...Eyes lawyer suspiciously. Since when do Jacks permission to expand? Maybe it's really a summons...but the PlayJack Mansion has a nice ring to it. Where's Hungry Jack when you need him? I could eat about 12 stacks of pancakes.
Warforged bumbles out of the tour bus. I feel so cheap. Nah, not really. Is that coffee fresh?
Yes!
I need another drink.
I'll take a half-dozen!
*walks around with keg under his arm*
the constant clanging of hammers and machinery have summoned a ghost from the past Heyo Jacks! And Jills! 'Bout time you invited me to one of your little shindigs!
"There were fewer party poopers at the parties at the Celestial Court. Even after Stinky Hammerhand slipped X-lax into the chocolate fountain." Warforged pours another drink
Back off the fish! We have a shortage of actual celestial beings in this cult, and we need to take what we can get. "Wow. Even the cult of that Sea-Bass-tian fella wasn't that desperate."
Cool, a talking tuna!Don' m'k me shm'te ya...We may have to assimilate this cult.Celestial Follower! Get some more liquor. And maybe some nachos and cocktail weenies. I'll never attract a big cult without liquor, nachos, and cocktail weenies.All right! Almost like the Jack's Clubhouse! "It's Flipper!" "Flipper, Flipper, wonderful fish. Tastes so much better than a plain tuna dish!" wanders off to find a fishing pole and a frying pan
Celestial Follower! Get some more liquor. And maybe some nachos and cocktail weenies. I'll never attract a big cult without liquor, nachos, and cocktail weenies. All right! Almost like the Jack's Clubhouse!
Hey! Is this where our dead avatars get to hangout? If so, pour me a cold one or two! I'm dry as a sand golem!
As LJ and JH settle down in the Eyrie to focus on raising Arielle 4 bound spirits decide that is time for them sleep once more. As the new family sleeps, the spirits rise out of the bracers and the hammer and gaze upon the retired heroes. The lioness and the lion nuzzle each others spirit form one last time, before they slowly walk straight thru the walls of the room and into the mountain itself. The eagle mates simply launch themselves off of the balcony and spiral every higher, eventually disappearing from sight altogether. Before they disappear, they call out once more in farewell.
Yep, we dwarves have poor imaginations when we're hung over.
Laeana and Leo were the first lion rulers to serve the Celestials. Ditto for the eagle lord spirits. (Runequest plotline.) They continue to serve in spirit form, but only in dark times and to worthy champions. They manifest thru the objects or the bearers when the need is strong, but they are always in the background. Noble creatures, noble goals, but still fierce. They view their allies as family. I agree, but didn't want to intrude in your plot. Laeana should be pretty substantial in the spirit/dream realms. She also might not be alone. Leo especially, or the eagle mates have travelled together for millenia. Lyn is lucky. She should be able to see their noble forms.
Coughing and spluttering just a bit, she summons three air elementals to help her against this foul water creature. The wind swirls around her in a protective barrier while she calls her allies. LJ's bracer hisses as it expels the evil water, as if it was in its lungs as well. From her arm the large ghostly lioness of Laeana springs. Snarling loudly, it leaps the lava field easily and pounces upon the evil water elemental. Clouds of steam arise as the positive energy collides with the negative.
The winds kick up outside the Clubhouse and the form of an invisible dwarf can be seen in the dust. It walks around Warforged Jack's tent gesturing. The tent begins to fold into itself, and forms into WJ's travelling pack. The form hoists the pack and straps it on. He walks to the Clubhouse entry and places a rosewood box at the entrance, in the area still warded by the Emperor's Hallow spell. He raises his hand in farewell and walks down the road, the pack disappearing from sight as well as the dwarf. The box is addressed to Poetry. Inside is a finely crafted adamantium rapier with a beautifully sculpted crossguard and red gem set in the pommel, and a rolled scroll. Spoiler: Little Poetry,
If you are reading this it means that I have fallen, and 'Prentis is now the new Forgemaster. Hopefully I have succeeded in my quest to undo the harm my hands caused so many years ago. You see, it was my craftsmanship that forged the weapon used by the Fallen One. We Warforged are connected to our creations. That is why I began to craft only holy weapons afterwards. My master allowed me to feel youth once more, in order to have the strength to fight against evil and undo my shame. And earn my own name. If I failed, then please know that I am proud to know such honorable heroes. I did not forget your request. My last commission. Please accept this blade. I have used the last of my adamantium stores to make it. It is a +4 adm. holy rapier of ghost touch. The gem will allow you to cast Brilliant Blade thrice a day. Once you bypass the armor your skill should do the rest. Use it well, or I may have to come back and kick your butt. Name the blade as you will. Names give power. Warforged
The bookkeeper may be dead, but the shades continue to attack Allura, Devlyn, and WJ, and the robots divide equally between WJ and Devlyn, shooting a constant stream of bullets with questionable aim. One of the bullets grazes LJ's leg. Warforged lacks the strength to defend himself. His magical protections have failed from the blast of the evil book. The robots and shades overwhelm him. He ceases to struggle. His enemies turn to focus on live threats, leaving a battered ancient dwarf with a snow white beard laying in a pool of blood. As he dies, he whispers Jack. I wish to be named Jack.
There is a wave of negative energy released as WJ's axe pierces the book, cutting it in twain.The hag shrieks as she sees how close the dwarf has come. Her creatures didn't even slow him. In desperation she tossed down a handful of pellets. The pellets unrolled and grew until there were several robots standing there. They were not substantial protectors, but hopefully they would buy her a few precious seconds. The strong wave seems to bypass the armor's protection, and has an unexpected affect on the dwarf. He is knocked on his feet, and begins to obviously age. He is vulnerable to both the robots and the few remaining shades.
The hag shrieks as she sees how close the dwarf has come. Her creatures didn't even slow him. In desperation she tossed down a handful of pellets. The pellets unrolled and grew until there were several robots standing there. They were not substantial protectors, but hopefully they would buy her a few precious seconds. The shades scored a few hits but the celestial armor is strong in positive energy. The robots though, they will give the hag time. Time he cannot afford to give. He has failed twice before. He will not do so again. He hurls his axe as hard as he can, aiming for the tome, hoping to break the ritual. And leaving only his hard fists and his armor to fend off the robots.
The hag quickly conjures up a half dozen shades to protect her from the coming assault, and tries to move even more quickly to the end of the ritual. Shades? Is that the best you can do? WJ begins wading thru the shades, his holy axe cleaving thru the insubstantial forms as if they were solid. They hardly slow him as he rushes to the hag. *He begins singing in Celestial* Shades and spooks, and nutty kooks. Time to die, Time to fry. The Sun's Light touching the land and the sky.
As Warforged enters the realm he focusses on the Bookkeeper, the evil within her and the tome compelling him forward. He channels positive energy thru his axe, first aiming at the unholy tome. *in Celestial* You shall earn me my name, evil crone.
Looking at the body of Lyn's mother Warforged simply says As you command, Celestial. he follows
I could not stop them all. I have failed. According to this one, Ash and the Bookkeeper have taken her to the altar where she was originally bound to the goddess. I know not where it is today, but I can find out where it was. Her mother's spirit is now free. Whether she goes to the light or the flame is up to the gods. WJ gently addresses the body, arranging it with respect, and scanning her (and her equipment) with a soft glow from his hand searching for any touch of evil. I am sorry.
The words stop Warforged in his tracks, and as they register with the Emperor the vines cease their crushing assault.
Warforged yells as he begins hacking at Lyn's mother, oblivious to any damage he does to the vines. Despite the hacking dwarf more and more vines form, hungering for the celestial's flesh.
Warforged fights as one possessed, directing all of his attacks on Ash. He can't get to the fallen priestess.
I'm ready. WJ walks into the room dressed in a silver breastplate, helm, and gautlets. Each is as ancient as his axe. They seem to reflect more light than strikes them.
But we have monkeys and cats and poodles at the old one. How could this be more fun? Here ya go! One order of monkey, cat, and poodle robot decoys all ready to go.
Ahem. This might be a good time to point out that the weapons I forge are holy. It's the celestial training.
WJ begins mending the bar and cleaning up the mess he made. Sorry Mistress Alaina. I know this place is supposed to be neutral ground.
Your mother was killed during the ritual, so either she's been raised and become Fallen or that may have been your doppelganger. It appears Leaena and Aquila were none too pleased either. I am sorry about your mother.
Those without honor cannot make that challenge. You deceive yourself Wasp. If you must taste blood, challenge me.
The Wasp is hit from behind by a blast of positive energy. Not to damage, but to interrupt.
As the Wasp approaches a shield of white magic appears around LJ. She is is wrapped by a pair of wings of energy.
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.
"Warforged Jack, do you think you could make me a weapon that would be useful against undead," Poetry asks. "Something light and elegant if you would please." I'm thinking Dimensional Anchor on a critical might be more useful. Now that the prophecy has been revealed, I cannot make you a weapon without a reading. Lest my power be used by our enemies.
'Arrggghh!', screams WJ as he runs smack into the back bar, his axe splitting the first in two. As he sits, 'At this rate I'll never earn my name.' Oops, sorry about your bar.
Warforged charges the Erinyes
This will reveal if there is a Fallen among us! The dwarf begins chanting in a mix of celestial and dwarvish, and a wave of positive energy bursts forth from him.
The omniportal flashes and Warforged rushes in, axe in hand. Spotting LJ and JH he rushes to him, barely slowing. He spots Ash and places himself between them and the celestial. *whispers as best he can* There may be danger here. Your mother was not your mother. Your sister may not be your sister. |