DeanTheAdequate

Khaires listened from the second antechamber. It was true, the guardians couldn't be trusted... But what would the real guardians do if they found him? Khaires kept to the darkness. He began to plan his next actions in the labyrnthes. "If I listen nearest the second treasure room, then..." Daylight.

Khaires looked longingly into the clay jug. All that was left from his burial wares was a rich crimson dust... very scant. He listened to the sounds above. Of how there WERE guardians, and they had awoken. Khaires waited, and waited for some time until the conversation moved. "So who watches the guards while the Pharoh waits?" Khaires thought "I can only hope I am right in guessing it is I." He looked again to the red dust withen his brittle pitcher. *** When the tomb's guardians came back a red dust marked the floor. Nothing but a name in red dust... KHE

Deep withen one of the minor chambers, there is a mote of dust, silently making it's way to the floor. Just as it is about to rest for hundreds upon thousands of years with all the others... it is blown away as a stone slab thuds to the floor. Khaires looked about the darkened room. No light shone from the ornate brassires, yet he could see. He tried to take a deep breath, but all that happened was a deep rattling noise. He stared at the polished brass... And screamed. The wine servant held his skull in his hands. He remembered the chanting, the plunge of the knife, everything. It was like his chest was on fire, that his head was filled only with void. All in his being that void only told him one thing, the Pharoh was in danger. Great danger. But surely the guards were charmed for this... Unless Ra sent his spirit back because one of the Pharoh's guards were untrustworthy... He had to warn the others, but surely only most of the guards would eternally protect the Pharoh in the life streams... Khaires was afraid to show himself. Such enemies would be powerful, and quick to send him die in the black fires beyond. He grabbed a weighty pitcher. It wouldn't be much, but maybe it would help should he run into a traitor... (OOC: I don't know... Meh, gimme til' tomorrow.

Alrighty... I'll join up. I'll be Khaires. I was the wines servent, set to brew from the bounties of the nile. My area is stocked with the tools of my trade.

Oi! Just remeber guy... We still have 2 computers, no waiting! Anytime man, anytime...

Dean is carries up to the party where he is promptly put into a comfy chair. Phil proptly waddles up and begins waving a handkerchief over Dean's face. "Well this is great... C'mon Dean, geddup... the Wet bar is in danger." There is but a moan from the chair. "Aw fiddlesticks... the mind is willing but the flesh is spongy and bruised. Now how am I gonna change back?" The penguin pouts and helps himself to some ice cream.

Welsh... I can tell how the wind ish bolwing...k. Sha know what... it wash me. I didsh it. I'm not a mean druck... But am quite the bashterd... From all othersh accounts involved. Now lemme shee here... Her's shome duct tape to bind me with. The jig ish up... *Dean fishes out some duct tape from his smoking jacket.* Ahnd for the record... I'll vote for me. Lesh work and more play. Have fun shummoning up the dread lords of evil... (Change vote to myself)

Man... You try to stay sober enough to follow what's going on... then you're next for the noose... Well I won't have it! *Dean produces a bottle marked 'X to the 10th Power'. He downs it.* Ho-KAAAAY. Haccush away. *Phil slaps himself with his flipper, and gets angry* "Oh great, you screwjobs screwed everything up! Now there's no way I can get Dean to turn me back anytime soon..." *The penaguin fluffs up his bag of ice and plops down on it, like a throne* "Now, I'm a fair man... cat... and I don't think The Candidate is the trickster, nor Gwaihir. But they sure are riling me hot! Now I'm gonna go with Gnarly for now. Because his costume is pretty keen." *Dean begins walking in a circle* Where doesh the shtairsh end??? (OOC: Vote for Cryptomancer)

Meh, people are always getting hurt... *Dean slurps down his latest martini. A small, muffled scream is heard. A few quizzical looks are given.* Well, let's face it. I could damage my liver with a dagger, but the martini's are tastier... Anyway. Let us look into the soul of the killer.... *Dean finishes the ritual magic... a cloudy image appears... There is a child. It's dressed as a badly made ghost. Is walks up to the door and rings the bell. An elderly lady drops in a handful of things. The image zooms in... Candy corn, a few pennies, and a Bible tract.* I knew she was the one, and now it's confirmed! She's the one who gave you the nasty stuff on Halloween of old. Let's get an angry mob together and... *Phil waddles over and slaps Dean on the back of the knee. Dean stumbles for a second, then picks back up.* Oh wait, we were looking for the prankster that deals in very harmful jokes... Hmmm... (OOC: Finnius, I have nowhere else to goooooo! Sorry...)

Well now... The old room puzzle, eh? *Dean takes a moment to look around for the odd bottle...* Well, we should all take the proper precautions. *Dean fishes around in his smoking jacket and pulls out an old rat catcher's hat, then lights the candle.* OK then, now I can see. *As Dean exhales, his candle burns blue for a moment* THe first thing we need to do is hold hands and form a circle, that way the occult forces at work know we mean business... Or something like that, hang on... it's been a while since I've had to do any ritual type magic. *Dean pulls out several cocktail napkins. Some seems to have inscribed upon them runes of power, others phone numbers, and a great many more running tabs from the bar advertized on the napkin. He finds one to his liking.* Here we are! We'll need some liquid, and a small dish to put the liquid in...

It is well known that when a dark, mysterious place pops up from time to time, usually secret magics are locked withen. Thus the primal urge deep withen all wizards is to seek out people with skills to help tham, delve into the area of interst, and seek the magics and treasures amidst the obvious peril therein. Which is why so many established wizards have a familier. Someone that is inanely terrified of this prospect on a level the usual overconfidant wizard can never seek to attain. Of course the re-wiring of Dean's priorites hinders him getting involved as well... Dean quickly stands by, innnocently sipping on a bit of his bubbling concoction, when poor Phil runs up. "Hey! Dean, theres some sort of cavern here now. We, and by we I mean you, should check it out!" Dean scowls at the suggestion and points at his freshened up drink. Phil slowly shook his head. "You know Dean... It could have the recipe for Vilimenster's Alcohol Enchancer..." Now the frown turns upside down... The ancient wizard instincts are kicking in... Yeah, the old juices are flowing again... It's, it's time to.... BE BACK!!! Dean whips off the mask. The flowing robes of a traditional wizard are shaken away in a flash of light. In it's place a satin-fine smoking jacket with a pale glowing neon martini glass on the left breast pocket. Finely tailored pants. A pair of shoes a lounge singer would give up his worst song on. And finally a cigerette pops into his waiting mouth. The drink, stays. "Well then," Dean says "Time to earn our share." Dean puts a pattented sippy cup lid (now designed for martini glasses) on his drink and wanders over to the people gathering at the cave. "Hey! Wanna see a trick! Buuuorp. Wait! Don't run off... that wasn't it!" Phil shakes his head... Now to see if he can get Dean to change him back into a cat. FOr now, he settles on grabbing a bag of party ice and dragging it along with him.

Dean saunters on in with a bottle for the hosts and hostesses, and a half mask on his face. For some reason he's followed by a penguin... "It's me, Phil" says the penguin "Had dean cook me up a costume. And when a mage cooks up a costume... Grumble mutter..." Dean smirks and makes a beeline for the "Spike this punch only" punch... When he walks away it's bubbling with a silght whispy smoke coming off of it. Like dry ice, only more potent as it spills across the floor. A sweet smell comes from the smoke...

I'll be all over that like chocolate shell over a frozen banana

Aye! I, Dean The Adequate (With the pateneted drinks trolly) will attest to this being... no... Testla Samurai to be more than worthy! Heres to acceptance and more tales!

Charles Arthur looked up from his desk as the wagon rolled past. Even now he was recording the minutes in one of the ledgers... He was on this set's tribunal. Sure, they had been seen together and had missed a great many sundays... But deep withen himself Charles had a pit of doubt. If this trend were to continue, there would be far too few to work the harvest. But that would have prosed problematic at the trial. Doubt would breed doubt in others, and if he was to find the true heathen he would need to remain in the good graces of the council. So he spent the afternoon going over the ledgers. Hoping somewhre in the past judgements of the town he could find a grain of truth, strong enough to find the true witch... even if there is one. He drew himself a glass of water from a handy pitcher, and began pouring over another book...

I'll sign up! And I'll take any role given, or make my own if needed. No worries!

"A day without wierd is a day wasted." -Christopher Kinsey

Once again shanghaied to sail the pacific. "You know Vinnie," Melvin said "I knew we shouldn't have gone drinking at 'Crazy Ahab's Shanghai Saloon'." "But you know how much I love the ambiance there." "Less talking, more rowing!" demanded the rowmaster as he cracked his whip. As he passed by and the drum droned on, Melvin just had to know. "Why is it we're rowing a sailing ship?" "Actually..." But just then...

Perhaps we should skimp on the wolfsbane as a pie seasonong... Happy Birthday!

DeanTheAdequate: Excuse me?? I wasn't defeated by YOU, I was murdered by an out of control TINKERTOY that someone else BROKE, and now I'll take MY Arena and perhaps stay sober for a while. It's been quite some time that I've decided to stave off study. Perhaps I'll end these games as well... I don't know WHAT I was thinking... and just what is THAT look for...? :rolleyes1: :evilgrin: :twisted: Crazeyal: I grabbed something from the Chaos Avatar.... (*Crazeyal dangles Dean's heart jewel from a silver chain*) Now do we REALLY have to go through all this again??? And before you make the obvious grab... This one's a fake. I know where the REAL one is, and the fact that the Avatar made about forty copies just to confound you. We.. kinda think alike... http://www.themightypen.net/public/style_emoticons/default/ohmy.gif Now.. you can either admit defeat... or.... *Crazeyal squeezes the crystal in his hand so hard, the outer layer splinters. Dean falls to one knee * Crazeyal: oops.. sorry.. I lied... this IS the real deal... Comon Dean... I don't want to do it.. not after all this.... Give it up.... DeanTheAdequate: N-NEVV *ARRRGH* my h-home... Crazeyal: LURKER!!!! comon... don't make me ... it's over... you know it... *From out of nowhere the Kitten appears and lowers his regal head to Dean's suffering form* LurkerWithout: I'sm sorry Dean I DECLARE DEANTHEADEQUATE UNABLE TO CONTINUE!!!! The Arena is ... yours..... [/p] [/p]

Well, Al took the end round as well. But frankly, we were having too much fun. So Al put up an epilouge...

Well, there is another game tradition on the Kenzerco.com boards. It's called "The Duel". The public picks settings and duelling weapons. Then the authors have three rounds to have at it. Let's take a peek at when I got out from behind my running GM shield and stepped down as a player... As it turned out, I took the round but lost the popular vote. Al seemed to really need a good write off. He's won both of the other duels he was in, and keeps a gaggle of fans for his LARP stories. Also, I apologize for the broken smilies and whatnot. Untranslatable UBB code, dontcherknow. And now, let's look at round 2... [glow:#6699CC]Then what's good for the creations... IS GOOD FOR THE CREATOR!!!!! [/glow] WHA?? Geddoffmeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee* uh?? Whah??? [glow:#FFFF00]...unn... ay... ppin... s'awa....[/glow] oh.... NO!!!! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! [glow:#FFFF00]Sunny Day Sweepin' the clouds away On my way to where the air is sweet Can you tell me how to get, How to get to Sesame Street [/glow] To be continued To be continued

...WEREWOLVES! WEREWOLVES EVERYWHERE!!! *Van Muncie whips out an offical "Van Helsing" movie replica auto-crossbow and begins spraying the room... And then he wakes up* ....That, was wierd... *He rolls over to find a wolvish shape in his bed* ...AHHHHHHHHHHH!

In all the confusion Ms. Serena could be the wolf. Hunting for the b******* is trying work on the soul. Decisions like these have to be made, and we will all pay the price in our own hearts. I'm sorry Ms. Serena, but I will have to go with the consensus on this one. Heaven help me if I'm wrong. *Van Muncie drags out a length of rope. Normal looking, but silvery threads can be seen in the morning light.* OOC: Salinye/Serena