Venefyxatu

Ku Klux Klan kamikazes kindly keep kidnapped kids.

Nathaniel didn't hear anything : not the screams, not the talking in the streets, nothing. Even if the screaming had been loud enough to reach the house, he still wouldn't have heard it. He did, however, see the faces when he went to town around noon to have lunch at the inn. He also saw the lips moving, and from them he could read more than just the news about Mark's death. He learned of speculations about who could have done it, and he learned every single detail of how the corpse had looked. Werebeasts ... he'd read about them in several books, and he'd even encountered a few villages where they had passed. Not much was left of those villages, their inhabitants frightened and distrustful of everyone, even themselves. The books that described these towns always mentioned the suspicion rising very quickly, but none of them ever completed the entire cycle. He'd never read anything about how the creatures were chased off or what happened after they were killed. Was writing it all down worth the risk of staying here? It didn't matter ... he had other reasons for staying, too ... OoC : No vote ... yet

Youthful yuppies yield yummy yoghurt.

Nathaniel put on his warmest clothes, and then prepared to go outside. He put on his ankle-length black coat, his white scarf and black tricorn hat and lit his pipe. When that most important task was done, he put on his black gloves, took the shovel he'd put against one of the crates in the hallway and opened the front door. He stood in the doorway for a few moments, blowing smoke into the air and surveying the snow before getting to work. It took him the better part of two hours to make a path that could get him into the village proper, where most of the worst snow had already been cleared away. During that time he let his mind wander back to his beloved books; the library was the first room in the house that he'd unpacked completely and while part of him enjoyed being out in the cold, most of him was already longing to continue his studies near the blazing fire he'd have going in the fireplace. That would have to wait just a little though. Nathaniel stuck his shovel in the ground, knowing that it would still be there when he got back, and decided to go for a walk through the village. Stuffing his hands deep into the pockets of his coat, he started walking, thinking that he might even have something to eat ...

Grand group gets glorious gadgets.

Boring buffets bring blue blood.

*immediately holds breath* Because there's always someone ...

A vaguely familiar shape shimmers into view I'd like to try and participate again, but I might miss a few turns. Tanny, I *warned* you Sooo ... a character. Nathaniel Blake Churnstone has bought the old mansion that stands just on the edge of town. He moved in just a week ago, and he doesn't seem to care about the stories of it being haunted. In the week that he's lived there, the townspeople have gotten to know him as a man who won't use two words when one will do, and even then will often use only half a word. Those villagers who dared to sneak or go up to the mansion and peek in through the windows have seen that most of the ground floor has been transformed into a library, which explains all the crates that were delivered. Whenever he's at home he seems to be reading or studying something, undisturbed by the sounds of the ghosts that might really be hunting the place. Of course, the fact that he's deaf might have something to do with that ...

My apologies for dropping out the way I did ... I do hope that you've enjoyed your QQ, and that you get to enjoy a well-earned new rank

Thank you Tanny, for the help Without seeing Celina's grin, the Madame went on writing, every now and then mumbling to herself or making strange motions with her hands over the paper. Suddenly, she went rigid in her chair, making the poor thing creak as if it was about to fall apart. While her eyes were rolling in their sockets, her pen scratched across the paper. After that, she went on writing like usual. When she'd written them all down, she put her pen down and looked up at Celina. "The Madame thinks that we are done?" Celina stretches once again, and nods. "Yup. Let's have some tea in that new cafetaria." With a grin, the Madame accepted. "I just know you'll be paying ..." Celina rolled her eyes and followed her out of the office. "That's abusing your gift." "Of course not my dear ... it is merely your fate." They walked away, bickering amiably.

As he was hopping through the halls of the Pen keep, Tom Atoe's curiosity was peaked the sounds of chaos, followed by poetry. Wanting to be wherever the fun was, Tom didn't waste a second in rushing over. When he saw what was going on, he started hopping around the room excitedly, admiring the toy corner and the big drawing on the wall without ever even slowing down. "Oooohh, a birthday party! Yay yayayayayayayayayy! When will she be here, is it going to last very long, do you think she'll have fun?" The questions went on and on, and so did the hopping ... OOC : Happy birthday Appy! (yay, I'm probably the last one still on time in this timezone )

Venefyxatu enters the banquet hall, looking somewhat out of place among the poets that frequent this part of the Mighty Pen. Tanny and I were talking a few minutes ago ... or rather, complaining to each other about various little frustrations. One thing led to another and before I knew it I found myself accepting a challenge to put these frustrations into poetry. Feel free to add your own irritations here Computerstorewebsites Information. Lines upon lines Or hardly three words. It doesn't matter, For what is sought Is omitted. Different terms Mean the same thing. They all say the same Or maybe they don't. Try to figure It out yourself. He grins at the people who've tried to make him write poetry in the past, then shimmers out of view again.

Venefyxatu shimmers into view, looking very distracted, as if his mind is completely focussed on other things. Sorry for being so late - I've been ... occupied. I'd love to take part in this. As for a topic ... Horoscopes. With something resembling a slight grin, he adds, "Fill this in however you like." Then the necromancer shimmers out of view again. Edit : to an approved topic

Venefyxatu had heard about the storytelling lady that would come to the Pen, and had decided to go and listen to her. He enjoyed stories, and the fact that the audience would be giving subjects would add something extra to it. He'd put on a comfortable robe and arrived at the room right after Sven entered. The latter gave him an odd look, but Venefyxatu didn't really pay attention to it. Because it seemed that the lady wanted to collect the topics before telling the stories, Venefyxatu spoke up next. "Would you happen to know any of the myths surrounding the Moon Goddess? Which one, and of which dimension, I shall leave up to you ..."

Venefyxatu shimmers into view. I'm sorry for the delay ... I don't even have an excuse, just the age-old "not getting to it". Just wanted to make clear that the predictions that "The Madame" gave in the thread are yours to do with whatever you want ... I've kept them rather vague on purpose; feel free to use them or completely ignore them. No matter what she thinks, The Madame isn't always right What? Yes, she speaks about herself in third person

Just as the door closed behind Lucy it was thrown open again by a rather impressive person. Madame Artsuhtaraz had pressed her voluminous body in a gown of the deepest blue she could find, adorned with so much silver that the sheer weight could prevent a small plane from lifting off. Her hair was dishevelled from running and stood out in all directions around her head, giving her an appearance that would intimidate an angry gorilla, and her chest was heaving as the air fought to wheeze itself in and out of her lungs. "The Madame is sorry that she is late, but she also knows that it could not have been prevented. As a compensation the Madame shall give out some free advice to those who are about to leave for their assignment." "Appy, young lady, beware of the dark stranger in the rain. And you, Christopher ... the rain is not always a bad thing. As for you, Celina ... you know what the Madame is going to tell you." After having spoken these words in her usual deep voice, Madame Artsuhtaraz planted herself in one of the chairs and looked expectantly at Sweetcherrie.

As the fog got denser again, Stephen had just closed in on the small group, guided by the sounds of their voices. When Vincent shouted not to move, Stephen did notice that the sound seemed to be behaving ... oddly. Combining those two, he quickly came to a conclusion. "The man is right. And if this place really shows you your memories, it might be a good idea to remember a particularly fogless day." He put his hand in his pocket and clasped his fingers around the wooden Wyvern statue. :: Tanny, are you okay? ::

Congratulations! Enjoy your shiny new title

“Wolf-Lady, it seems that every time we try to work a Portal, something strange happens... I just feel this is a strange land, and I know we aren't anywhere near we were some time ago. No idea either how long I, or you, have been out either.” Wolf-Lady? Who was that, and why was he talking to her? Carefully he felt around to try and find out where he was ... he was sitting in the grass against a rock, but where? And why was he feeling around? He could see just fine, albeit a bit blurry ... maybe he shouldn't have smoked that plant. Slowly he looked around. Why was everything looking so strange? There were more stones ... big stones. No, wait, that one wasn't a stone, it was alive! He saw a creature standing there, looking straight at him with small, beady eyes sunken deep into the ugly head. Its mouth hung open to reveal two double rows of razor-sharp teeth. When it took a step towards him, Stephen tried to struggle to his feet but immediately fell down again. It took him four more tries to get up, and by then the monster had gone. When he heard something behind him, he turned around and charged. The stone he ran into didn't mind. He woke up again to a touch of earth energy that felt very familiar. It resonated with her personal energy. “Tanny?” He got up, automatically picking up his quarterstaff. The touch of earth was still there, so he extended his senses to see if he could follow it. As he trotted off, he moved around the stones without paying any attention to them.

Stephen had been exploring a part of the forests surrounding the Pen Keep that he didn't know yet when he felt a by now familiar mental nudge. He put his hand in his pocket, closing his fingers around a small, wooden sculpture of a certain Almost Dragon and concentrated on the link. :: Stephen? Did you hear that? :: :: Unless you mean that little bird failing to learn how to fly, or anything else near me, no. What did I miss? :: :: There was a call for help from Sweetcherrie and Gryphon - it seems as though they're in big trouble and I want to see if I can help. :: :: Where? :: :: I don't know yet, but I'm heading for the AVV. :: :: That's where we went through a certain portal, right? I'll meet you there. :: He turned around and concentrated on extending his senses into one direction - that of the Keep. When he was comfortable he could "feel" the ground far enough ahead of him, he started running. It wasn't long before he reached the main gates and ran through with a speed far greater than his blindness should allow. As he was making his way down the last flights of stairs he almost got knocked back by a sudden gust of wind. With a grunt of surprise, he steadied himself and continued at a slightly slower pace. He could already hear the voices of several others - it seemed there were several Pennites willing to help. "Just give me a few moments to prepare, then we can go for gold..." With a frown, Stephen approached, wondering about this going for gold. Surely the idea was to help Sweetcherrie and Gryphon, and not get richer?

The title has appeared in the same beautiful, hand-written font as the title of the first story. The story that has appeared also seems to be written by someone who paid attention to their handwriting.

... Rantalafastickaniltumulanius, one of the few remaining good wizards and party-pooper extraordinaire, decided to show up ...

*Raises fists towards Appy and dons his best "meanie-expression"* You wanted to fight? Errrrr .... waaaait a minute! *grins* This'll be fun

*slaps forehead* Vacations and a memory like a leaky bucket are a bad combination Congratulations to Horace

But until next Saturday (or Friday evening if I'm feeling very active, awake, energetic and Pen-deprived ) you'll have to do without my wonderful *cough*yeah-right*cough* presence The reason : I'm going on vacation with my parents, and I'll be spending a blissful, computer-free week. I wonder how long until I get withdrawal symptoms ... anyone want to place bets? I'll see you all in a week!