Tamaranis

Drat it, Zadown, I wanted to be the first person to announce they're actually going to try it, then later claim to be the person who initiated to flood of entries!

But maybe you should reconsider? This'll probably been less Oblivion for the rest of us for the month...

Anyway yeah, not exactly sure what I'll write, beyond something very bad.

Yeah, I'm totally at work, unable to listen right now.

There's two notionally current RPs, Hostel Fox and The Hunt, but since the creators of both threads are MIA, you could always try to start an RP'ed story yourself. You don't permission to do that or anything.

Black! The most hardcore, diehard member of AM's conservatory! (He was, you know.)

If I remember correctly, Venefyxatu and I were sort of running a separate storyline that wasn't terribly connected to the one that Lotus and Inbi were in as of yet, I think you could probably pull off dropping Tamaranis and Venefyxatu from that story if you really wanted to.

If you don't want to drop us, though, I'll gladly jump back in. (I don't know if I could do that without Venefyxatu, but I'll do my best.)

So if we suck at the game, it's okay then, right?

Gah, sure doesn't feel like Friday...

We need a smilie with a really stupid grin giving the "thumbs up" sign

Seriously, we should try to congregate in one world...

So who wants to buy a worldpass and who wants to restart?

EDIT: Turns out Titan is too crowded and they're offering to move characters off that world to another...

EDIT: Turns out it's not anything that convenient, but when I think about it, I am willing to create a new character.

She's telling the truth about the memory thing, you know.

Anyway, If some one would be so kind as to record this, I'm at work right now, so I can't listen in in real time this week.

Commentary comes in waves, not a stream, you see

I certainly hope you meant for virtual reality to be disturbing, because it was to me. Maybe only to me, because for some reason I can't explain I can identify with that somehow...

...anyway, it couldn't have actually been disturbing at all if it weren't well written.

Or rather, he did know, 'cause it was kinda obvious.

...and creepy.

Now, I didn't ever write with you or anything, but I do remember you, Blondemoon.

My concept of time with regards to the comings and goings of others at The Pen is somewhat vague, but you've been gone a loooooong time, I think.

Have you ever bounced a check?

 

When it was the rent?

 

And then felt more in control of your life than ever once you'd handled it?

Bad in an R-rated way, or bad in an impossible geometry of the dead city of Ry'leh way?

Meanwhile, Tamaranis was still trapped beneath the 2000 ton body of Chtulu.

"Get off of me, you large and ancient Mollusc(with a capital M) from beyond the stars!" Tamaranis demanded.

Chtulu, being locking in eternal slumber as it was, continued to slumber.

Oh, it's here alright...

I think that's mostly how fall seems to me as well, but I just can't abide anything that's a prelude to winter.

A largish figure moved briskly through the halls of the Mighty Pen keep. Well, in truth the figure was only of average height, but he was quite muscular, so you might consider him large. The large metal, wood, and wire comptraption strapped across his back, almost equal in size to his torso, further served to increase the impression of largeness.

Occasionally the figure encountered one of the more visually unique members of The Pen and he was unable to do much more than give a respectful nod and continue on his way. Until he happened upon a humanoid reptile that identified itself simple as “Wyvern” and insisted on conversation. Caught off balance as he was he ended the encounter short more than a few coins and in possession of a box of breakfast cereal A quick assessment of the supposed food lead him to the conclusion that it had been poisoned by an amateur who had chosen a collection of foul-smelling toxins.

He made a mental note to be careful of that lizard. Maybe he’d known it was poisoned and maybe not, but if it had been an attempt on his life the next one might not be so clumsy.

Eventually he reached his destination, the office of a dark elf named Scarlot. He raised one hand, delivered a series of three sharp knocks, and waited.

“Enter,” Called a voice a moment later.

The figure stepped in and blinked furiously for a moment as his eyes adjusted to the low light within. Once he had adjusted, it happened fairly quickly, actually, he announced himself. “I am Byrgad, son of Erst, and I wish to join your guild.”

Scarlot assessed the new applicant. Built like an ox, didn’t seem too bright, a few old scars visible here and there and a few newer ones in other places, weapons and gear everywhere. Except for the box of Nannotoknonen-O’s in his hand he perfectly fit the description of the typical arrogant and foolish mercenary warrior.

Scarlot was about to respond with the standard order to fill out an application, but he continued his speech.

“You may have heard of me, but probably what you heard isn’t true. I’ve been called an assassin, and I possess the abilities to make assassinations under certain circumstances it’s not my only calling, I’ve got a very diverse skill set, really.”

Scarlot was about to speak but he continued, “I mean, really, it’s not unheard for me to draw a sword and stand in fair combat against a foe, but that’s not what I’ve got a reputation for doing, I’ve got a reputation for burying bolts in my enemies’ heads from four or five or six furlongs away, and for sometimes making use of poison.”

“So people talk, right. I’m supposedly an assassin now. It’s somehow supposed to be worse when I kill someone than if buddy swordster cuts his guts out. You’re supposed to hide children from someone in my line of work, but I don’t get it. It’s not like I go and shoot people for sport. Dead is dead, right? Except when I kill some one there’s usually not all the fear and pain because by the time they realize what’s going on it’s over.”

“I mean, I guess I can really sympathize with the Drow, even, because you just are who you are, y’know? And...”

“I don’t particularly care,” Scarlot interrupted in a pleasant tone.

Brygad stopped speaking and brought his attention back to the present in time to catch a sheet of parchment drifting through the air toward him.

“If you’d be so kind, Use that diverse skill set of yours to fill out an application, hmm?”

Why I would be an asset to the Alliance of Vagabonds and Vanguards

-Brygad, Son of Erst

 

Well, first of all, I’m an experienced mercenary.  I’ve been doing mercenary work for going on twenty years now.  My father was an engineer of some repute, you see, and he oversaw the construction of seige engines for a living.  I learned the trade and I almost went into the family business, but I didn’t like making weapons for some one else.  I wanted to be the one using what I built.  I didn’t trust anyone else with it.  As an army footsoldier I wouldn’t have the space and freedom to make use of my skills, so I became a mercenary, it was the only logical choice, I think I was seventeen then.

 

Anyway, once I take a job, I see it through, if I have to go months beyond the original contract, I complete it.  Not to say that I don’t normally complete things in a timely manner.  Usually I get hired to kill somebody, and it happens as soon as possible without magic.  I’ve fought in tiny irregulars sections in large scale battles before, though, I’m no stranger to conventional warfare.

 

But more to the point, I’m a deadly shot with a crossbow.  I’ve built one of my own design and well, the average mage would probably rather close into a knife fight with me than exchange spells for arrows..  Then I’d still win because I’m not bad with knives either, it’s just that I’m really, really deadly with a crossbow.

 

Since I’ve been at the job a while I’ve taken the time to familiarize myself with poisons, I can recognize all the common ones and know how to make good use of the them.  I’ve also deliberately built up a resistance to most of the ones you can.  I mean, I don’t like using poison, it’s slower, most of them draw death out unnecessarily and you never know if there’s going to be some clever healer or alchemist handy to deal with it, but sometimes you just need an edge, y’know?

 

I’m a fair tracker, there are plenty of rangers better than me, but I’ve worked with so many over the years that I’ve sort of picked it up.  It’s a useful thing, because there isn’t always a ranger around to do it for you.

 

I make good use of a healer’s kit too.  I don’t just kill people, but somehow people get to think I’m an assassin and then they get to think that’s all I do.  I guess they can think what they want, I guess.  Now, I can’t actually use magic to cure wounds but short of magic, I’m probably your best bet for keeping injured people alive.

 

I guess I have to be fair and say that if you wanted to hire an assassin, there are some jobs you should hire a real assassin for instead of me.  I’m not subtle with words, and I don’t always react to people the right way.  Sometimes I ramble... and if I’m trying to learn something from somebody, well, they usually end up learning about me more than the other way around.  I’m not usually very persuasive, well, unless I threaten people.  That’s a weak spot for me.  I don’t gather information well, or do that sort of thing.  I’m not a spy I guess, I’m just a multitalented mercenary is all.

Wyv! Your links are broken!

Hooray! Any. Given. Moment is back!

I'll be sure to not only plan to tune in every week, but actually sometimes tune in, as well!

...wait, that doesn't count, right?

I wonder if I should post here in order to assert my presentness and avoid the weenie award, or deliberately avoid posting here and so reclaim the weenie award that is rightfully mine...

Gotta love it.

“Wren, Wren, Wren. Listen to me Wren. Wren, listen.”

Despite the firm tone of what he was saying, Wren wasn’t listening to Robby and she continued to spout a constant stream of questions.

“Wren! Stop!” Robby increased the pressure of his grip on her shoulder until it became painful. In response she drove the palm of one hand upward at his nose.

Current pain and memory of worse pain overcame reflexes and Robby didn’t move his free hand to intercept. Instead he turned his head so that Wren struck him just under his eye, her hand bounced away with no apparent damage inflicted. Robby took a step back anyway.

Wren seemed to take in where she was and who was here as she paused for breath.

“I got separated from everyone else when the demons attacked,” Robby started, “I don’t know much more than you. You’re the only other hunter I’ve found since they made their retreat. There’s no sign of Ugarte or Bob either, but we’ve recovered some of Ugarte’s fortune.”

Well, maybe we'll feel like starting new characters at some point in time, at which point we can gradually converge on one server.

I play now and then on Titan.