Kasmandre

Sure, Level 10 sounds great. Although, you do realize that Harmon's ego will grow in proportion to his level right? Anything that makes the quest more interesting (and having all manner of creature thrown at us would definately be interesting).

I always wondered what happened to all those old towers and fortresses and castles that keep popping up in just about every story...

Harmon mumbled something to the latest addition to the group as he took another swig of the swill the inn-keeper had given him this morning, swearing that it could cure hangovers in no time flat. If it doesn't work soon, Harmon thought ill-temperedly, I'll give that swindler of a man a headache beyond even this "miracle" drink's capacity to heal. Turning his mind away from thoughts of assault and of whether the drink tasted or smelled worse (taste was winning by a narrow margin), Harmon looked over the other members assembled around the common room. None of them appeared to be in the same predicament as he was, which just confirmed his suspicion that they all couldn't find a good time with both hands and a torch. Well, to be fair, Allan had been down here last night with Harmon for a bit, but the bard hadn't been too jovial. Not that Harmon could blame him. Getting ready to face a kitsowhatsit that could kill them all pretty easily wasn't exactly the best reason for celebration. But you had to make do with what you had. Speaking of which, Harmon fingered his money pouch. It was lighter than it'd been after adding his employer's 3000 gold, not a whole lot, but enough to make Harmon wonder exactly how much he'd thrown around... Harmon sighed. Maybe it's best I forgot most of last night... he thought, taking another sip of the noxious mixture and waiting for the signal to get moving.

Well, I don't think anyone'd want Harmon conducting negotiations no matter what his charisma is. And yes, that was me who rolled that mind-blowingly horrible stat. Harmon also got a 6 in intelligence, in case anyone was wondering... Anyway, I'll upgrade my scores to survival-level. It'd be a shame if the group's walking meat-shield got killed in the first encounter.

Happy Birthday!! Have a pineapple!

Very nice, I really like how you left a lot unsaid. Although, I think I missed the allegory. Maybe someone could give me a hint?

Gnomes, gremlins? For me it's Fornits. I just drop some food into my keyboard (they like potato chips) and they make me some stories. Hm...I wonder if I could e-mail you a few, Aardvark. Heck, I'll e-mail 'em all if I can get even another paragraph of this story!

Hunger is a ravenous monster. Feed it not, and it will eat you. Feed it incorrectly, and it will only get stronger. Feed it well, and it will be satiated.

Recently, there's been talk of the forums becoming a more hostile place than they used to be. A lot of people seem to be saying that they haven't seen any of that, and they probably haven't, as the offending posts aren't exactly all over the place. There have been a few things said that should not have been said in a few places. That's not to say that this isn't a big problem. It is. To be close community, we have to trust one another and believe that we're not going to be judged unfairly based on who we are or what we believe. We can't be closeminded about others and we shouldn't try to force our beliefs on others. As far as I know, this is the first time something like this has come up in the Pen. I've never seen people feel unwelcome because of this. For the most part, except in some of the writing, most of these controversial issues never even came up. After all, this is a writing board, and for the most part, these issues are of secondary importance here. Part of the problem is the debate threads that have been popping up off and on again over the last couple of months. Debate can be a fine thing where it's necessary. For the reasons I stated above, it isn't here at the Pen. These debate threads shouldn't have been started. Which brings me to the point. I checked back, and I confirmed what I already knew. The first of these debate posts was started by myself. I posted some stupid comment about abortion and started a debate. Looking back, I can see how what I posted could have offended some people. I'm sorry. I'm sorry to anyone I offended with my post and any trouble I may have caused indirectly by starting that debate. I hope that we can get back to the Pen as it was and as it should be, because that's something truly worth working for.

Thanks for all the good wishes. I had a great day, seeing as it was about 80 here for the first time. I spent most of the day outside just enjoying myself. Best birthday ever.

Harmon tried to scoot his chair away from Iriador as unobtrusively as he could. As he did this he muttered to himself, "Great, tear out her soul, no problem. As if I didn't have enough problems as it is: the party only has two females and one of them not only wants to kill me, but has permission, and Al's got a head start on the other. Wonderful." Louder, he said, "Well, this is all simply wonderful, but if that's it, could I ask for a little of my pay in advance? I'd prefer to enjoy myself a little before I die."

Man, I'm sorry for the stuff that's been going on in both you guys' lives. Sometimes life's unfair, sometimes it's a total b*tch, but there are some really good things that make up for the merda. Good friends, for one. Always remember that you've got friends here. *Great big hugs*

Fear is like ice: cold and immovable, having the capability to freeze you in your tracks.

Happy Birthday, Mira. And Vlad, you have read something she's written. Schizoid

Harmon's a semi-new character for me. He was a minor character in one of my first stories (which I'm trying to rewrite in spurts), and didn't have any backstory to speak of. His appearance here would come many years before that, and I'm more or less assembling his past as I go. That's pretty much Harmon in a nutshell. He's a big guy (6'7" 275lbs) with short black hair and hazel eyes. He isn't terribly good looking, but he wouldn't believe anyone who tells him that, so it really doesn't matter . He's more than a little boorish and he has an ever-so-slightly sexist attitude toward women . He will constantly try to flirt with them and he'll rarely succeed, but he blames that on other factors (money, the woman, etc.). He believes that every woman is a frail creature in need of his personal protection and is usually unwilling to accept their help in "man's work." However, he's more than willing to have their help in cooking, cleaning, etc. The only group he's more prejudiced against is spellcasters of any kind. To him, spellcasting in any form is a less formidable means of combat and any spellcaster is, by definition, a sissy. Harmon's not above traveling with spellcasters, but he won't let them forget that they're a sissy and in need of his protection. Other than these quirks, Harmon is a fairly good individual (Neutral Good, I believe), if a little self interested. He's willing to go out of his way for those he likes and/or respects, even if he wouldn't allow himself to admit that he feels that way about them. He tends to operate on his own rules of conduct, most of which revolve around making himself look strong or important. As for gear, Harmon never carries too much stuff. He's got his mother-of-a-big-two-handed sword(+1/+1), and his armour. Other than that, he's got his money pouch that tends toward emptiness, as he spends his money fairly quickly on alcohol and women. He's not above mooching off others for money when he's low (and even when he's not), and he's quick to spot someone willing to pay. That's pretty much all I can think of at this point, if I think of anything else, I'll add it.

ooc: BPO, that'd be great. I really don't have much of a history thought out for Harmon, so putting the two together shouldn't be any problem. ic: Harmon watched the thief leave with some surprise. This guy was turning down money? And he dared call himself a thief. Well, might as well take advantage of the situation... "Dibs on his share. Oh, and yours too, Iry. So, yeah this chick's big and powerful and stuff and we need to go up to some mountain to pick up the trail, I gotcha. So, when do we start and when do we get paid? I need to know if I have time to show Al here how to meet women."

Happy Birthday, Gwai! And here's to many more!!

From behind the women, a booming voice asked, "A quest? And you're sending two women? Spellcasters, no less?" Iriador and Senora turn to see the voice's owner. It turns out to be a huge man, over six and a half feet tall with muscles bulging beneath his armour. Strapped to his back is a massive sword almost as long as he is tall. He extends a hand toward the employer. "I go by the name Harmon Eldarod, and you need my services if you expect these two little ladies to get within three towns of this Mirror thingy. Mind you, I don't work cheap." He then sat down beside the two women, threw an arm around Iriador and signals a waitress to bring him a drink. ooc: this should be interesting

Great job, it's very...Stick. Hmm, I'm gonna have to get myself on this list sometime soon...

Meanwhile, Usagi and Katzaniel were searching not far away. A few minutes after leaving the path, both half-animals had caught the scent of horse, and fear. "John must've scared the daylights out of that thing," Usagi muttered, just loud enough for Katzaniel to hear. Still in animal form, the tigertaur growled in agreement. "Skittish animals, all of them. I'd rather trust my own two feet than some half-tame beast. After all, I'm faster than 'em anyway." Another growl, this one more of a warning. Usagi turned his attention completely on the task at hand, inwardly chastising himself for letting himself get sidetracked. Ahead was a clearing in the trees. Inside were entirely too many horses. No wonder the path had been so easy to follow, it'd been made by about a dozen horses. Taking another look into the clearing, the pair noticed a crude campsite set up beyond the horses. In it, the apparent owners of the horses sat around a fire, cooking what appeared to be a miserably small meal. Those who were not directly involved in preparing the meat, were occupying themselves in other ways: repairing and maintaining bows, making new arrows, or simply brushing at their horrendously dirty clothing. "Some kind of hunting party?" Usagi muttered, knowing right away that that couldn't be the case. Few men hunted in this area, fewer still this close to the road. Also, the party was too large to be a regular group of working men out for the weekend. But too many of them were archers for this to be anything else. The leaves rustled beside him where Katzaniel was sitting. She had transformed into her tigertaur form. "No, not hunting. But what're so many men doing out here?" "My thoughts exactly. And why are they so dirty?" "No...not dirty, sooty. They're all blackened. It's like they were in some fire." And then it clicked: arrows flying out of the trees, Griever setting fire to the trees and the arrows stopping. These were the remaining bandits. Before either could give voice to the realization, another figure entered the light shed by the campfire. He was dressed in fine robes decorated with various symbols that seemed clean of any soot. He carried himself with an air of superiority attainable only by a member of the privlaged clergy. He stood slightly aloof from the others, waiting for the food, but acting as if he was surveying the area, glancing at the fire, the horses, the surrounding forrest. ------------------- Meanwhile... ------------------- Daryl and Griever were also following a horse's trail through the woods. As they went, they continued their conversation from earlier. "So, you never answered my question," Griever said. "Why are you traveling with Kasmandre?" "I could ask you the same question," Daryl answered. "Of course. If I had known that fool was going to join, I might not have. Honestly, he's more touble than he's worth. At least I got him to go off with that strange little elf. I don't think I could stand any more of his 'jokes.' But, we're avoiding the question. And I asked you first, anyway." "True. I suppose it's because-wait a minute." Darly stopped his horse and looked through the trees ahead. "I can see John's horse. It looks like it's got its lead caught on a tree." "Well, at least we found the thing. Frankly, I'm surprised Katzaniel and Usagi didn't beat us to it, two trackers being better than one. I'm afraid I've been no help in this search." "That's fine. You can get its lead untangled. Gods know we don't want to have to go searching for it again when it gets a whiff of me." Griever dismounted and approached the horse carefully and began freeing it from the tree branch it was snagged on. Then Daryl spoke up again. "Wait. If I'm with you, Katzaniel's with Usagi, and John's with Sheemie, who's with Kasmandre?" Griever thought about that for a moment, then replied. "Crap." ------------------- Meanwhile... ------------------- Kasmandre looked at the haphazard camp before him and the sooty archers within. He knew it had to be around somewhere, the fire couldn't have killed all the bandits, especially after he'd put it out. And here they were. Maybe the books were just a coincidence, but Kasmandre doubted it. For these men to be after those books, combined with his dreams and his quest, was a little too much for mere coincidence. These men had something to do with the Wizard and Cassandra's capture. Kasmandre knew that he should have told the others about all of this. Their help would be valuable, but John's horse running off was far too great an opportunity. And, after all, if the odds were too great, Kasmandre could always go back to their own campsite and wait for the others to return before taking any action. It was as simple as- A faint rustling sounded from the other side of the ragged horse lines caused Kasmandre to tense up. He stayed stock-still, barely breathing, for a moment. When he heard nothing else, he went back to watching the bandit camp. After a moment, a man in stylized robes, a priest or mage of some sort, stepped into the glow of the fire. Most of the symbols were unfamilar to Kasmandre, but the few he recognized, he didn't like, especially the one that matched the one on the books. This man wouldn't be the Wizard himself, but perhaps a close underling. If anyone in the campsite would know something, it would be him. Kasmandre eased his Raimen daggers out of their holsters and carefully emerged from the trees, staying hidden in the shadows at the edge of the clearing. The bandits all appeared to be archers, so if Kasmandre could get in close, he'd have that advantage. And as for the priest, well, Kasmandre'd been doing this type of thing for a few thousand years, he should have an advantage over him, too.

Kasmandre looks at time ends for a moment "Great job, BPO, I think you broke him."

Happy Birthday!

As everyone began to fan out in pairs looking for the horse, Sheemie made his way over to the currently horseless John. "Mr. John-sir?" Sheemie stammered. "Mr. Griever said I should look with you. He said we should keep all our fools in one sack, so he did." "Oh. Ok. Have you heard the one about the mage, the healer, and the fighter in a rowboat?" "Nope. Sheemie's never heard that one so he hasn't how's it-" Sheemie cut off as he tripped over a root and fell to the ground. As he hit the dirt, something flew from his hands and landed on the ground a few feet away. After helping Sheemie to his feet, John picked up the "something." "What's this?" he asked. "It's some books nice Mr. Kasmandre asked Sheemie to get. But Sheemie doesn't know where they came from. Sheemie didn't see them when he got breakfast ready this morning, so he didn't." John brushed some dirt off the cover of the topmost book. In the moonlight he could see the symbol burnt into the cover of the book. He recognized it instantly. It was the very symbol he was marked with, the Symbol of the Wizard.

Beautiful, Yui, simply beautiful. Every time I look at it, I notice something else in it. Wonderful.

To heck with what the tomato really is. The big question is: Is it "ketchup" or "catsup"? More seriously, I really need to get into the WW more often and offer some kinda help. It's not that I don't have time so much as I don't take the time. If that makes any sense at all... Oh well.