Ozymandias

corrupted A mage walks through the doors, dressed in pure black clothes, he looks across the room seeing this little display in front of him he shakes his head then turns and opens the doors. "Rain." he shakes his head then casts the spell of Weather summoning clearing the rain away then leaves the B.H.

Arawn "Rat problems Zool?"Arawn detaches himself from the shadows."Maybe I can render aid..." He snaps his fingers and a tiger appears, without a word of command it leaps at Zool. At the last minute is changes direction and pounces on Nisassa. "Oops! Down, Maxwell!!"

Zool Zool rose slowly from the black pit of unconsciousness. His mind swam, annoyed by a far away voice insistantly asking, "Are you Sir Olliver?" His eyes opened. A curious Mage peered down at him. "Are you sore all over?" he heard clearly for the first time. Zool suddenly became aware that he felt like he was on fire. Much to his surprise, all he could say was "Unnnnnhhhhhhh." Zool liked to play with fire when he was a wee lad. "This is the last time you're lighting your little sister on fire!" He was told, and then his behind was heated just to make the point. Something his sister had taught him tugged at his mind. He painfully reached into his pocket and pulled out - a Scroll of Protection from Fire! It is handy to always have one with you. It was already disintegrating as he brought it out, and the horrible brand across his features was fading, though he carried the smell of smoke forever. And then a more serious problem came to light. He slowly became aware that while the pain all over his body was fading (except his oddly throbbing jaw), there was also a persistantly gnawing(!) pain in his ankle. "Aaaghhrerr!" he screamed, and jumped to his feet. He quickly grabbed a nearby floating drum with one hand and the offended ankle with the other. Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! He bumped into two gorillas and a poet, Nisassa, and several bystanding mages as he beat time to his painful tune. The Mages responded by thwapping him with their Squeaker Swatters (Pat. Pending)(I must improve that design, Zool thought absently). Zool managed to get a couple of bangs on Nisassa as he hopped by. The blows with the drum were having their effect on The Grim Squeaker, as little white rat bones were starting to hit the floor.

Greenwar The door crashes open and a couple of bad tempered gorilla bouncers wearing trenchcoats, enter the Hall.... Behind them enters GreenWar. EVERYONE freeeeeze---- Wats dat ??? 'o kicks around GrimSqueaker all the time???? The Don is not pleased...So, where's dat infidel...? He walks to a weird grinning, utterly ugly, wanna-be-poet and grabs him by his collar. You look suspicious...Are you the one called Drool, nah, Stool? Damn, dats not his name... One of the bouncers whispers in his ear... Aaaahhhhhh, yeah, Zool...are YOU Zool?

Nisassa Nisassa drops his now useless converting poster and picks up his scythe for the 3rd time in his life he swings it. This time at the offending Zool and Poet. How dare you attack a Priest of the One True God? A Priest to the Left Side as well. You will pay for your crimes. There is a flash and an almost inaudible screech, like somebody was cutting the air itself, as three and a half feet of cold hard scythe blade hit the Poet and then Zool 'thunk' The flat of the sycthe blade hits the Poet solidly on the side of the head and continues towards Zool as the Poet goes spinning across the room. 'thwap' The handle of the scythe smacks Zool squarely on the jaw redering him oblivious to the harassment of the Grim Squeaker. The scythe blade proceeds to bury itself three feet and 5 inches deep in the floor of the B.H. "CONVERT!" says Nisassa in a thunderous voice which shakes the foundation of the B.H. with it very power. "CONVERT!" you have no choice in this matter Zool. For multiple attacks upon a Priest of the great God and Pharoah Nanotoknonnen you are to branded and be forcefully converted to the One True Faith. This said and done, Nisassa produced an enormous branding iron. Heating it up with an inferno, Nisassa brands the unconscious Zool. As the smoke and stench of burnt human flesh clears, mages in the Hall can see the following branded across Zool's body and face. _____________________________________________ This Mage is the Property of SuperMummy, the Great God and Pharoah Nanotoknonnen. He is a faithful worshipper of the One True Faith and a loyal slave. Any attack made upon this mage shall be treated as an attack upon the One True God and will be dealt with using extreme violence and excessive force."CONVERT!" _____________________________________________

Poet Heretic The Poet swats SQUEAKER, making him weaker. But Zool, in his wool, collapsed on the floor. Heat must've got him, or maybe I shot him, either way, just hope Heaven's waiting. He's had a long day, and Deirdre ain't dating.

shi-hulud "A duel arcane has come to the B.H." A dark and ominous figure emerges from the shadows of the entry clad in dull black form fitting suit and a dune colored robe. "do not let me interupt a circle of equals friends, I honor those who are willing to fight for a cause or in defence of there own.And the good Zugan I shall ask you to shade out the sun awhile for the harseness of his rays beat down a little to firecely for me this day.

Zugen Gora ~Watching the debacle before him with much mirth in his eyes, Zugen Gora nods to the floating instruments, changing them to a drum and a violin, which then move to hover near Zool and the rat. They begin to play a battle dirge, fast, furious and full of gusto~ "Begin the match!" he proclaims, "I haven't seen this much fun in these Halls for many days now! 'Tis a glad thing to have a laugh once in a while." ~Stretching comfortably in his seat near the crackling flames of the fire, he relaxes back to watch what will happen next~

the Grim Squeaker Zool hears a dreadful sound from the region of his feet. SQUEAK. Looking down, he sees a (dare I say it?) VERY FAMILIAR RAT standing there. The Great Squeaker looks up at him for a moment, then bites him firmly on the ankle, refusing to let go, waving slogans furiously all the while.

Zool OOC: En guarde'! IC: Another Mage burst through the front doors of the hall. He was breathing hard as though he had also run a long distance. He was an odd sight indeed. Tall and wiry, dressed all in black leather with red trim, he had an enormous head of long thick matted black hair. He had an ugly bruise on his neck, and a small post-it note stuck to his forehead that read; "If you don't leave me alone, I'll get worse than Supermummy on you. I'll tell DEIRDRE you tried to hurt me. Sincerely, The Death of Rats The Great Squeaker Priest to the left side of the priest to the left side of the priest to the left side of the great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen Treant Hill Mob, App" It was in very small writing. Zool did not look happy. "THERE HE IS!" He shouted. Zool reached behind his back and pulled a Squeaker Swatter (Pat. Pending) from his quiver. He quickly gave it to the nearest Mage. The Mage looked at it curiously. Zool ran around the room, handing out Squeaker Swatters (Pat. Pending) to everyone in the room (except The Grim Squeaker and Nisassa). "Your Banquet Hall is infested," he told them, "With a dead rat!" All eyes turned to the little lump under Nisassa's scroll. It twitched. "AAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!!" yelled Zool, as he descended on the scroll. Whap! Whap! WhapWhapWhapWhapWhap! Whap! Whap! Whap! Pieces of scroll flew like confetti, mimicking a small tornado.

Zugen Gora ~The Lord of Shadows arches an eyebrow at the parchments being displayed before the Hall, a slow smile spreading across his face~ "SQUEAK!" he says to the small figure in black. "Hehe .... about time someone who doesn't say much turned up in this Hall. Maybe a silent, yet wise, mage he will be. A presence to stay the hand of anger and turn aside ill-feeling and abuse? I bid thee welcome, Grim Squeaker, to the Apprentice Banquet Hall. May your stay here prove .... interesting."

Nisassa Huffing and Puffing, Nisassa burst through the doors of the B.H., Damn *&(*&(% Stupid mouse, It always get everywhere before me.. and he's got 3 signs too. Nisassa takes an enormous scroll out of his backpack. Walking over so he dwarfs the little skelete mouse, Nisassa purposely unfuls his Scroll covering it. _____________________________________________ REPENT AND CONVERT. Just click here ____________________________________________

The Grim Squeaker A tiny figure walks through the banquet hall wall. It walks with a brisk step to the middle of the hall, where it climbs up on a table, holds its hands up for silence, and with fleshless muzzle, declaims, SQUEAK. With that, the Great Squeaker unstraps three rolls of papyrus from its back. One in its right paw, one in its mouth, the other in its left paw, with three quick flicks, it unrolls them. *SNAPSNAPSNAP* From left to right, they read: __________________________ R E P E N T _________________________ __________________________ C O N V E R T __________________________ __________________________________________ O R , J U S T K I C K T H E L I V I N G S N O T O U T O F Z O O L I F H E S H O W S U P . Sincerely, ------------------ The Death of Rats The Great Squeaker Priest to the left side of the priest to the left side of the priest to the left side of the great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen Treant Hill Mob, App _____________________________________________ All three appear to be written in black crayon. <i></i>

Nisassa As Priest to the Left of the Great God and Pharoah Nanotoknonnen, Nisassa can not let Zool get away with his assult upon a Priest of the One True God (especially since it is a fellow Priest to the Left Side). Having gone and bought a scythe after seeing how cool the Grim Squeaker's scythe was, Nisassa attempts to behead Zool with his scythe. here is a Big Flash and wooshing noise as a three and a half foot scythe blade comes down. "thunk" Having had no experience with a scythe before, Nisassa ends up hitting Zool with the flat of the blade. Knowing that this must be how the One True God must have wanted it, I pronouce you punished for attacking a Priest of the One True God. Now, CONVERT!

The Grim Squeaker The Great Squeaker shakes it off quickly (it helps not having a brain to damage...). Zool crows in triumph as he raises his swatter for one final whap. As the weapon of mass stinging descends, there is a flash of three and a half inch scythe blade, and the bisected Squeaker Swatter (Pat. Pending) falls from Zool's limp grasp. The Great Squeaker looks up at Zool, then rummages around in its robe. Producing a crayon (black, of course) and a Post-it note pad, it begins scribbling furiously. Nonplussed, Zool looks on. In moments, the Squeaker is finished. It tucks away the crayon, pulls the sheet off of the pad, puts the pad away, scales Zool's robe up to his shoulder, grabs onto his ear, swings out and *THWAP* sticks the post it to Zool's forehead. Leaping clear and touching down lightly, it turns and begins to walk away, waving it's papyrus message. SQUEAK. SQUEAK. The Post-it said: ____________________________________________ If you don't leave me alone, I'll get worse than Supermummy on you. I'll tell DEIRDRE you tried to hurt me. Sincerely, The Death of Rats The Great Squeaker Priest to the left side of the priest to the left side of the priest to the left side of the great God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen Treant Hill Mob, App _____________________________________________ (See, he can write *really* small)

Greased Oh man! Now there's three Left Side priests, as opposed to the One Right Side Priest. Well there is a Priest to the Right Side of the Priest to the Right Side of the God and Pharaoh Nanotoknonnen, but he's never around and is too wrapped up in Real Life (phshaw!) to take his job seriously. Loser.

Zool "THERE HE IS!!!" Shouts Zool, upon seeing the tiny figure. Quick as a flash, he whips out his Squeaker Swatter (Pat. Pending) and swings madly. Whap! Whap! Whap! Whap! Thwap! The ratlike figure zigs and zags, but the last strike lands squarely on his tiny head. Stunned, the figure staggers. "Ha!" smirked Zool. "Where is your god now?"

Nisassa Nisassa comes running into the B.H. just in time to the convertion of said heathen mage... "Damn he's good!" Niss mutters... "And he's got style too. Man I'm gonna lose my spot as chief converter of heathen mages to the One True Faith soon if I don't watch out."

As Jagon disappeared from view, Timothy's smile quickly faded into its accustomed grimace. That idealistic, at his age. No good will come of it for him, that's for sure. Poor bastard. Sighing, he tried again. "From the sound of him, we may be here more than one night. Shall we find lodging?"

Regaining his composure, Timothy spoke. "I thank you again, Sir Dreamer, for your invitation. I am truly honored." He paused thoughtfully. "But if I finish this day dead I hardly see what use having a historian around would've been." The Dreamer's head swiveled round to face him almost as though it were on a turnstile. He fixed Timothy with the most intense blank stare he'd ever seen. Less ruffled by the Dreamer's sociopathic eccentricities now that he was convinced the man could and would effortlessly kill him if he so chose, he continued- "You speak of things called 'prime' and 'plane' referring to them as 'this', as though you meant the whole world. I have to admit ignorance in this case. Tell me, what did you mean?" Gyrfalcon remained outwardly calm as they rested their horses there. Inwardly, he tried his best to be prepared for anything from The Dreamer. Timothy simply waited for his death or his answer. Unconsciously, his fingers gripped the reins a little tighter.

The vocal historian looks for something to say and finds nothing in the face of the display. Finally realizing he is staring with his mouth open, he snaps it shut and nods soberly. His dual-hued eyes swirl with thought. "I'll get my- Nevermind, those are lost. I have my shoes, I have my sword, I'm ready."

I agree with the "No RL" policy. Welcome back, J.

Ozymandias steps up to the microphone hesitantly, a glum but resigned look on his face. *tap* *tap* "Hi. My name is Ozymandias, and I'm a cliche addict." "Hi, Ozymandias."

The Doctor is in an interesting, if odd mood today. A few drinks, you say? All that does to me is make me sleepy. In all seriousness, well said. ~Ozymandias~ who wants his blasted sig that he spent three hours on.

I tend to use cliches often I'm afraid, but I still give 'em out if seems even possibly useful. Just because they're cliches does not mean they're not true, AND (and that's a big and) I tend to oversimplify as a matter of course when I don't fully understand what's going on- that way, there's more to be said if you know the basics, but not particulars. Why did I give you tips on debate? Because really, that's what any argument is, isn't it? I also know how easy it is to lose sight of simple things in the heat of passion too, so my philosophy when attacking a problem is to start with the basics, and work your way up. That way, one can relax a little bit more easily or avert losing their cool. I'm glad, one way or another that my rambles were appreciated. Thank you, and you're welcome. I just didn't want you two fighting. I'm REALLY happy to see that it's been settled amicably, Honored Guest. I look forward to having you around. :>) ~Oz~ (And no, I don't really *talk* this way. Maybe half of any writing I do actually sounds like my conversation. The other half, well... utica.)