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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword
-C-

An introduction called for, an application required

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The wind howls, and dejected and forlorn, a not-so-ragged wanderer? Nay, a would-be scribe, stumbles aimlessly, wondering where those he shares his craft with reside. Where have all the writers gone? Where have the bards, poets, tome-keepers and dare he ask, the RPers gone? Have they all faded, turned to myth, a distant, lingering memory, recalled only within the dying echoes of a long-forgotten dream? Say it isn't so! But wait, what is this? The search engines turn up places, havens, sanctuaries - yet some once filled, have turned to flame, others infested with trolls, by the ranks of jeering denizens, citizens of once fine bastions of creativity turned corrupt. Do none care for literacy any more?

Has the world turned, passing by those of pen and quill, keyboard and pencil? Must one be forced to write alone? Is such a fate the doom of this age? Where the written word turns to letters, to numbers, abbreviations and phrases so callously slurred? Surely, there must be some place somewhere, a forum of creative works, where imagination is encouraged, where kindness, respect and maturity hold sway? There must be many such places - but where, how? How far must one search, how great is such toil - until at least, a shining glimmer of light, a small, faint hope - an invitation, from a friend, a chance meeting within the realms of a dying, fading hall, where once was golden, is now by twilight, slowly fading, forgotten, until oblivion and inactivity claims it. An invitation to another, a more active place - a place where writing is alive, is appreciated, where creativity is read. Could this be such a place? Or shall the traveller continue on?

 

Perhaps, in other times, such a prose shall not be quite so purple, self-deprecatingly waxing the poetic. And so, the traveller pauses, saying simply:

 

"Hello."

Edited by -C-

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A wolf who had been half-asleep at a shadowed corner of the Recruiter's Office perks her ears, the stranger's voice registering as a completely new one. Peeking out from her refuge, she rests on him a thoughtful look, wondering what would bring a traveler to seek refuge in Wyvern's place. But then, she herself had happened to be caught by the windstorm during one of her walks around the Keep, and had ducked in after making sure the lizard was nowhere to be seen...

 

I hope he is out in one of his geld-raising enterprises and got caught by the windstorm... on the other side of the Keep!

 

Chuckling to herself, Tanny stood and shook herself, noticing quickly that the noise had made the traveler turn to her corner. As he looked at her warily, she grinned toothily and took a few paces forward, tilting her head curiously at him.

 

::Hello.::

 

Aware that a mind-speaking wolf might startle a newcomer too easily, Tanny Changed back to her human form. As the shimmer of shapechanging involved her and then was gone. she stood a few paces away from the curious traveler, and smiled.

 

"Hello, Traveller... what brings you to the Pen Keep in this weather?

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A reply! Perhaps there is hope after all; perhaps desolation has not come to all such haunts. Yet, personae is not so unusual as to not be unknown; thus, the tone of the traveller's scribblings alters to conform with the etiquette of 'Pen Keep'. A mask is worn; a persona adopted. Thus: a caricature is born.

 

The traveller pauses, unsurprised at being addressed, yet unused to writing himself this way. That a wolf should address him does not shock him; he has experienced far stranger things than this, in his travels, yet the time to speak is nigh. For how long, should he remain silent, uttering the ramblings of unspoken thought? Indeed, no matter how he is responded to, by what manner of creature, strange or familiar, for now, he is a guest in this place, new and unused to the inner workings, the undertows, eddies and currents - the prose must be maintained, and RPing, is not something he is unfamiliar with (even if his sentences are far too long).

 

"Hello... good... lady... wolf?" Unsure whether 'good' is the correct form of address or not, he considers the question, "An invitation, by a friend. Perhaps you know of him? One Patrick, one who has resided long here? I hail from distant and dying... forums, seeking one of life, to name as 'home', or at least, a temporary refuge in the journey that each of us take."

 

He considers the weather, and watches the wolf shift into a woman as the wind sweeps across the land, taking him in its chill embrace, and with him, his hair and coat - cloak? - cloak, he decides. Any traveller worth his salt deserves a cloak. At least one where cloaks are in style.

 

"Might I have the pleasure of your name, fair lady wolf?"

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Accompanied by a blast of cold, wet air, a man comes in and quickly closes the door behind him. He stands still for a few moments, as if he's not quite sure what to do with all the water dripping from his cloak. Then he extends his hand to the wall, slides it up until he finds a hook and uses it to get rid of his cloak.

 

"By Fate, it's raining cats and dogs out there."

 

While the murmur was not loud enough to interrupt the conversation, the growl directed at him told Stephen that Tanny had heard him and made him chuckle.

 

"Figuratively speaking, of course, Wolf-Lady. It would be a bloody mess otherwise. Welcome, traveller. Feel free to make yourself comfortable if you can find an uncluttered spot somewhere in this office. Our resident ... recruiter might take a while to get here."

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Tanny smiled, ducking her head in a small bow. She could feel some mix of emotions from the Traveler, and on top of it his wish for a place where Life went on without being troubled by desolation. That made her pause for a moment, aware that the Pen Keep had periods of slumber while its residents were busy with farming and traveling. But that is not desolation... just a period of quiet, I guess.

 

"You can call me Tanny-" She was cut short by a blast of cold air that blew her loose hair all around her face. Her senses told her who had just come in more than the soft voice, and she growled.

 

"Stephen..." Her voice had a hint of an edge as the Ranger chuckled and also greeted the stranger. Pushing strands of hair out from her face, Tanny sighed and went back to the newcomer, knowing her glare would be lost on Stephen.

 

"This is Stephen Hascodem, Ranger, friend, and resident troublemaker." She smirked. "Though not as much of a troublemaker as Wyvern..."

 

And as the door opened, revealing a quite surprised feline, she completed, "... and that's Mynx."

Edited by Tanuchan

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"Speaking of Wyvern, where is that geld-loving lizard? We might need to trim some off from his stock of monies for the current refitting. Taxation of the rich you see. Making everything brown again can have a certain cost," Patham said in one breath as he entered the Recruiter's Office. "Nice to see you here," he called to the new arrival, "our almost dragon should be along soon enough. Unless a get rich quick scheme keeps him that is..."

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"Such a warm welcome! A pleasure to meet everyone." The traveller looks around the office's interior, and ponders over what has been said. "So this - Wyvern Almost-Dragon - may take a while to arrive? Well, waiting is part of life. Ah Patham, it is good to see you again - it's been a while since I've seen you wear that name.

"Tanny, Stephen, it's good to meet you." The Traveller pauses, and decides he needs a better epithet; 'C the Traveller' has a certain... '*arches eyebrow and shakes head*' about it. But that can wait until later. "So, what advice have you for a Traveller in these parts?"

 

Softly, the Traveller closes the door, aware of the wind scattering the hair of those around him. What happens now...

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"Troublemaker? Me? Well ... I certainly try, but ..."

 

Just then Stephen was interrupted by Patham's entrance.

 

"Patham, are you joining us for the wait? I was already thinking we could use some of the papers which are no doubt lying around to light a fire to get dry ..."

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The Traveller watches the arrival of the others in silence. What a welcome; the most activity he's seen in a single thread by so many for quite some time! He would not be surprised if it turned into it's own RP, complete with office fires, and gales outside.

 

So he waits. Finally, he nods to Mynx "Greetings." His eyebrows raise ever so slightly, "May I ask, why will this not end well?" His gaze flickers over towards the papers, "Fireproof? I must have forgotten my layers of silk, cotton and wool..."

Edited by Tanuchan
continuity check

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"Oh, no worries... we will not torch you, Traveler!" Tanny laughed softly. "Though my first advice is to stay as far from Wyvern as you can!" Tanny grimaced, memories of prosthetic limbs making her shudder. "At least, as far as you can from his gelding schemes... you'll need his stamp on your papers, just be careful what he asks you for."

Edited by Tanuchan

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"Ah, my thanks Lady Tanny for the warning. My soul - and my coin - are none but my own. I have encountered others who would have both, as well as those who would have my obedience, or have me as a zombie. Fun times." The Traveller wonders what other things this 'Almost-Dragon' has got up to, but shrugs inwardly. He would find out soon enough... probably. "So, a Wolf-Lady, a Troublemaker Ranger, a Patham, and a Tigeress? And yet to meet an 'Almost Dragon'. Am I missing anyone so far?"

Edited by Tanuchan
continuity check

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"There are more people around that might or might not come to this Office... but as for those already in, I think you didn't miss anyone."

 

Tanny rummaged around Wyvern's office, trying to clean enough places for the people to sit down and at the same time making a nice pile of papers right in the middle of the room, keeping a straight face but with a telltale mischievous smile in her lips. Tanny seemed to ponder at something, eyeing Stephen. With a grin, she turned again to the newcomer.

 

"How should we call you? 'Traveler' seems very impersonal... and I'd be curious about what tales you can tell us. Tales around a fire have always been one of my favorites... right, Stephen? There's such a nice pile of paper right in the middle of this room, I'm sure a skilled Ranger can provide the fire..."

Edited by Tanuchan

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"Well, 'C' is fine, unless you can think of a better name? 'Name the Traveller' contest? A bardic challenge. As to tales... I've no doubt you could tell me many of your own, starting with your fellows right here. The things I have seen are no doubt mundane and quite ordinary, yet new stories are always a delight to hear, especially when well told.

"There was this one time I faced a succubus, having to defeat her in a battle of wits or else be consumed..." The traveller smiled, "And what of you? Ever faced a succubus in battle? Not that I'm bragging, but that is the most recent encounter I partook in."

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"That's a good question. I'd be interested to hear your tale about that, C," she turned to address the traveller. "I've met a few...things...in my time, but no succubi, I don't think..."

Edited by Tanuchan
continuity check

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"Wolf-Lady, I'm sure your temper would be enough to light that fire..."

 

A kick and a yelp later, Stephen added, "... but because you insist, I will. Just paper won't do, though. We'll need something log-like."

 

"I know just the thing," Tanny replied. She quickly got a few drawers out of the desk and neatly added them onto the pile, without bothering to empty them first. Among the contents of one of the drawers was something that looked suspiciously like a stamp, but nobody really paid any attention to it.

 

"There, that should burn a little longer."

 

Stephen nodded and used the flint and steel in one of his pouches to light a fire. As soon as he was satisfied it wouldn't go out, he sat down at a comfortable distance from it and shook his head.

 

"I haven't faced any succubi either. One of the more spectacular stories would be the one in which Tanny and I had some... trouble with two orc tribes. Come to think of it, that might be the reason why we might appear rather destructive whenever we get into Wyvern's office..."

Edited by Venefyxatu

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"Well, fire is pretty, after all. Ah, now let me see... the succubus... I was under the guise of another at the time, a human with some elfish blood, no more than an 1/8th, no less than 1/12th. A sword for hire; bounty hunter, mercenary - all guises. Never an 'adventurer' though, but rather one who simply took jobs of interest. Anything that interested him.

"So it came about that he took a job of - well, the details aren't of interest, but he ended up going up against a witch in her marsh. Generic, except being a marsh, she was all alone and had control of various denizens that dwelt there. So she set deformed animals at him, a giant viper, and finally, a succubus she had summoned in the event he broke through. The succubus intended to devour him, and he had no way of defeating her foul witchery and magic, so he simply surrendered - but warned her that when she devoured him, she would lose the chance to ever see a mortal like him again. She wished to know why, so he invited her to look into his mind; to see his life. After all, she was in control, a succubus, while he could not defeat her. His blade could not even penetrate her hide - not that he tried. So she did - and there, once within his mind, he showed her the life of a mortal, as if she was a mortal, living, dying - and all that life has to offer. The mortal experience that she, as a monster, would never experience for herself. He touched her and changed her, imbuing her with a life unknown to her, teaching her love and hate, pain and joy - from a mortal's perspective.

"She didn't devour him, but left him alive - with a curse of sorts, a proclamation. Because he knew better, because he had experienced life, knew right from wrong, and did not just prey on mortals as a lion preys on sheep, she warned him that he was the true monster; she simply followed his nature, but he? He had a choice. And after kissing him as a lover, she left him.

"Whether part of her ever stayed with him, or part of him with her - through her long centuries and immortal life? That is a subject for the sages, but that is the long and short of the 'bloodless' conflict with a succubus. It makes for a fun tale. But I would hear more about the orcs!"

Edited by -C-

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“Tales of orcs?” Stephen laughs calmly in the glow of the fire, nudging Tanuchan as he basks the peaceful sounds of the pennites in attendance. The welcome for C the Traveler was turning out to be a promising one indeed, perfectly encapsulating the friendly and peaceful nature of the Pen and its residents. Stephen nods over at Mynx and with a growing smile, then turns his attention back to C as he continues. “Well, we can certainly accommodate you in that regard my friend. One time, Tanuchan and I were-”

 

“AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!”

 

Stephen’s story is cut short as the Office window suddenly explodes, bursting glass and mortar over the unfortunate pennites as Wyvern comes sailing into the room and crash-lands straight into his desktop, tipping it over with a flail of wings and tail in restraints. C ducks and covers over the sudden shocking display of destruction, shutting his eyes and trembling as glass falls over his back and the tottering Recruiter’s Desk almost lands right on top of his head. The loud sound of Wyvern’s coughing is the first noise that echoes through the room of stunned pennites, followed by the sound of him hacking up gravel and shaking the ropes from his wings. The overgrown lizard blinks several times and shakes his head dizzily as he glances around the Office, noticing the various Pen folks gathered there with an increasing sense of disorientation. He scratches one of his horns, then wheezes out a strained laugh and bashfully waves to those in attendance.

 

“G-g-greetingsssss all! What a pleasant surprise, errrr…”

 

“You like that, Mr. Wyvern Q. Almostdragon?!” An angry voice echoes from the grounds below the Pen Keep, adjacent to where the new Office window hole has been formed. “Maybe next time, you’ll think twice before selling a seasoned mage a faulty product!”

 

“Oh uhhh, pay no mind to him.” Wyvern cocks a claw back at the window hole with an uneasy grin. “He’s jusssst a disgruntled costumer who wasn’t fully satisfied with the quality of my Almost Dragonic Brand Cheapo Discount Prosthetic Limbs™ when it came to building his golem army. Guesssss he failed to read the fine print, eheheh.”

 

Wyvern grunts and wipes the glass from his snout with the back of his claw, then wobbles over to the C the Traveler and attempts to assist him to his feet.

 

“Pleasssure to meet you, C.” Wyvern smiles toothily and shakes the newcomer’s hand. “Wyvern, at your service and shopping convenience. I hope that you’ve seen that the Pen is a very kind and accept-“

 

“What’s the matter, Wyvern?!” The voice below jeers with an angry laugh. “Can’t accept a customer’s complaints?! Maybe if you’d refunded me, this wouldn’t have had to happen!”

 

“Jussst a moment, C.” Wyvern smiles and pats C on the shoulder, then storms over to the hole in the window and clenches his teeth, shaking a fist with rage at the figure outdoors. “Oh yeah?! Oh YEAH?! You two-bit bottom-feeding pathetic excuse for a warmongering imbecile asssshole #$^%@ stupid %^*#! You wouldn’t know how to build a golem army if you sat on one, you low-life worm! Just because you own a semi-automatic catapult doesssn’t make you all high and mighty, cheapssskate! Refund my ssscaly ass! Why don’t make good use of all those limbs you bought and SHOVE’EM!”

 

Wyvern turns his back to the window and seethes for a moment, his teeth and fists clenched with a little trail of smoke rising from his flaring nostrils. The reptilian Elder takes a deep breath to calm himself, then steps back over to C with the air of an almost dragonic angel.

 

“My apologies for keeping you waiting, C. As I was saying, welcome to the Mighty Pen, one of the safessst writing communities arou-”

 

An Almost Dragonic Brand Cheapo Discount Prosthetic Limb™ suddenly sails into the room through the window hole with some catapulted force, soaring in the direction of Mynx, who ducks out of its way gracefully. Unfortunately, the second Almost Dragonic Brand Cheapo Discount Prosthetic Limb™ fired into the room is not so easily evaded. It flies through the air until it connects dead on with Tanuchan’s head, knocking her unconscious. Stephen curses his reflexes, several seconds too late.

 

“Uhhhh…” Wyvern ignores the rants of the mage outdoors and grabs C’s hand, pulling him to a safer corner of the Office, free of projectile limbs. “A-as I wasss saying, welcome to the Pen. It’s a fine community where writers bond together and form important tie- OH MY GOD MY SSSSMUT MAGS!”

 

Wyvern promptly abandons C and races over to the burning fire at the center of the room, where he wails and desperately attempts to put it out. The overgrown lizard sobs and cries in anguish as he notices the pages of the stray magazines turning black in the fire, waving his tail back and forth and trying to stomp it out but only getting himself burnt. The reptilian Elder drops to his knees in front of the fire, pulling at the scales of his head in frustration as another prosthetic limb crashes into the room and narrowly misses him. He bangs his claws at the foot of the fire and lets out deep booming sobs, ramming his head several times against the floor and accidentally heating his horns in the flames. He flails at the flaming magazines for a few more moments, then lets out a long cry as he resigns himself to their fate. The overgrown lizard sits in a stunned silence for several minutes as he watches the mags wrinkle and crackle in the fire, then finally turns to the pennites in attendance with bloodshot eyes.

 

“Alright.” Wyvern sniffs and points a claw at the fire, slamming his tail stinger unhappily on the floor. “Whossse idea was this?”

Edited by Tanuchan
correction of continuity problems

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The main door of the office slams open, nearly falling off its cheap hinges, and a towering orc - Sir Ordolar - marches in with a clatter of steel boots on stone.

 

Seeing the remnants of the small fire, and remembering the shouting, Ordolar suddenly turns and tears the door from those same hinges, before marching over to the fire and slamming the door down to choke it.

 

Seeing that minor threat neutralized, and ignoring the surprise and shock evident through the room (particularly from Wyvern, whose clawed toes were inches from the broken door), Ordolar turns to C and speaks in a voice absent the usual orcish growl;

 

"Ah, a newcomer! Greetings, and welcome to the Pen keep. I am Ordolar, a knight of Aasharam."

 

He then steps back, realizing (albeit rather late) that his entrance and towering height make him appear quite intimidating and potentially hostile.

An orc's nature is not suited to social graces, after all.

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"Weeelll ... I don't think it really was specifically anyone's idea," Stephen muttered.

 

Mynx shook her head in agreement, "No, not anyone's idea as such, really."

 

"In fact," Stephen continued, "you could say it just sort of happened ... umm ... spontanteously. So, as an intelligent businessman such as yourself can clearly understand now, it wasn't really anyone's fault."

 

While he was saying this, Stephen reached into one of his many pouches and pulled out a few dried leaves. He moved until he was kneeling down next to Tanny and crumbled the leaves under her nose with a few soft mutters.

 

"Come on Wolf-Lady... you're going to miss all the fun here, not to mention getting away without doing any of the explaining yourself."

 

Tanny's sudden fit of coughing and sneezing made Stephen grinned in a most satisfied way.

 

"No need to worry... these leaves always do the trick." The Ranger sat back on his haunches, wisely keeping away from Tanny's attempts at grabbing his collar as she hacked and tried to sit up.

 

::Stephen, you moron of a Ranger...:: Even Tanny's mind-speech was wheezy as she tried to get her breathing back under control. ::What in hell do you think you are trying to do?::

 

::Waking you up, Wolf-Lady. I wouldn't want you to miss all the fun here. Although if you really want to, I could knock you out again?::

 

Stephen's chuckling was suddenly cut short as Tanny, in one fluent motion, changed back into her wolf shape and pounced him, landing quite gracefully on his chest and making sure he could feel her sharp teeth very close to his nose. ::You were saying what, dear Ranger?::

 

::Just trying to be helpful, Wolf-Lady. You're a hard woman to please, you know that?::

 

Laughing, Tanny changed back to her human form without bothering to leave her perch on Stephen's chest, and only then became aware of Wyvern's gaping gaze at her.

 

Stephen's mutter was lost in the commotion as Ordolar slammed his way into the room. Both Stephen and Tanny sat quietly as their allergy to Orcs suddenly acted up, making them both retreat rather hastily to the back wall.

 

"Stephen, I'd be really grateful if you stopped attracting trouble..." muttered Tanny.

 

"It's not me, Wolf-Lady... it must be you."

 

"Hah! When both you and Mynx agree, I just know there must be something wrong!" Tanny kept a wary look on Ordolar, part of her wondering what the Traveler would think of them after all that mess...

Edited by Tanuchan
continuity check

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"Ah, I see my entrance... is accompanied by unusual - usual? - disruption? A pleasure to meet you Mister W. Almost-Dragon." Shaking the glass off his cloak, and plucking the last shards with a gloved hand, C somehow manages to maintain a straight face. What... interesting characters that inhabit this place. Before he has time to respond in full, the knight greets him, and he finds himself responding automatically, "A pleasure, Sir Ordolar. C - the Traveller. I uh, would ask if meeting under such circumstances is normal, but such antics seem run of the mill where troublemakers are involved. I've already been told that there is a resident troublemaker in your ranks. Not that I would ever attempt to pass the buck, no sir. Sir. Ordolar." C clears his throat and looks around, eyeing the Wyvern's burning 'smug mags' with thinly veiled amusement. He seems to be half listening to what Stephen was saying, while responding to what's going on around him with surprising calm - after the window exploded, and the Wyvern left. "So... any place for a weary traveller in these parts?"

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“No no no no no no. No.” Wyvern raises a claw and waves it through the air to emphasize each and every “no”, stepping forward with an increasingly peeved expression at the seeming indifference towards his plight. “Ohhhh no, somebody’ssss taking responsibility for these burnt magazinesss. There was rare erotica in there that’sss almost impossssssible to acquire these days. Do you understand? Some of it was a near mythical status of rare, the kind of porn that king's waged wars over! Accident or not, it’s your resssponsibility to get it back to me. Or would you rather that that responsibility fell on C the Traveler?”

 

Wyvern snaps a claw and turns his back on the pennites in attendance with a disgruntled snort, tilting his snout up angrily.

 

“Either way, I ain’t accepting any Pen applicationsss until someone acceptsss the responsibility of retrieving those magsss lost in this fire. None. That goesss for C the Traveler and Colemanite Flakesss as well.” Wyvern taps his tail stinger on the floor impatiently, huffing a puff of smoke. “As sssoon as someone agrees that they will undertake the tasssk, I will get back to the process of accepting our honored guests. Jussst know that should you choose to accept the mission and seek out the smut, your journey will certainly be a long and difficult one indeed!”

 

A long uncomfortable silence passes amongst the gathered pennites, occasionally broken by the flap of Wyvern’s restless wings, until finally the lizard hisses:

 

“Oh, and ssssomeone remind me to thank Ordolar for taking care of the Office door. I’ve been meaning to get rid of that thing for yearsss!”

 

---

 

Meanwhile, in the ashes of the former bonfire, Woody the Office Door moans over his fractured wooden back and broken hinges. The most powerful door in Pen history had had a long run, but now it seemed that at long last, his days as a force to be reckoned with were coming to an end. The Door’s thoughts flash back to his first love Rune, his rivalry with the dastardly Wyvern over the Mahogany Travel Log, and finally the orcish knight responsible for his demise…

 

“Ordolar…”

 

Woody’s grainy voice is faint but determined. The snap of his back splintering is not enough to qwel it.

 

“Ordolar. I curse upon you… The Curse of a Thousand Splinters, brought upon you by the God Mahogney Closit. Till the day you die, may furniture treat you with the malevolence you deserve…”

 

A grainy smile etches its way over Woody the Office Door’s face as he closes his eyes, and soon the Door’s spirit has become one with the trees and chairs and mattresses and wherever else furniture souls should travel. And the door becomes nothing more than a burnt heap of wood.

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"Well, uh... that's just great." C the Traveller looks around, "Should I accept responsibility since it was my presence that brought this... tragic travesty about, that laid low the... bah, it probably deserved burning anyway. Time for a quest! Who's with me? Off to see the Wizard, the wonderful wizard of..."

 

C examines the remains of the burnt erotic in disgust, "Someone want to put the remains in a jar?

 

"You know, isn't there a get-quick-rich scheme you can distract Mister Almost-Dragon with?"

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"Really?" Wyvern breathes a long exasperated sigh and lets his wings droop, glancing left and right at the silent crowd of pennites. The overgrown lizard's snout goes out-of-joint at the general lack of sympathy in the air, and he waves the black wisps of smoke from his face as he turns to C with a frown. "Very well, C. Ssssince you've accepted responsssibility for the magazines, I will hereby return to recruiting new people to the Pen. Feel free to rope in any of these troublemakersss to help you in your quest as well."

 

"Uhhhh..." C watches as Wyvern glares at the other pennites and wanders towards the pile of smoldering ash. "Actually, Mr. Wyvern, I didn't quite accept any..."

 

"I'll fill you in on the detailssss of what mags I need later." Wyvern digs through the small mountain of blackened paper and door splinters, producing little clouds of ash that induce some fits of coughing from the surrounding pennites. The overgrown lizard digs his claw deep into the depths of the pile until he finally pauses, pawing at the object he was searching for. By the time he pulls the application stamp from its hiding place, the scales of Wyvern's arm have been rendered entirely black. "Right, onto ssstamping and accepting your application, C. Thanksss for your cooperation and patienccce."

 

Wyvern gets on his hands and knees and skirmishes the floor near his overturned desk, scooting entire piles of paper to the side with his wings until he uncovers C's Pen application. The reptilian Elder pays no attention to the new orange glow of the "Accepted" stamp as he pounds it over the top of C's application sheet. He glances at the mark and nods, then holds out the ACCEPTED application for C and the others to see... only to watch it suddenly crinkle and burn to ash over the molten stamp. Wyvern scratches one of his horns and stares at the glowing Acceptance "Stamp," tapping his foot on the scattered ash of the application and moving towards C.

 

"Hrrmmm... I guess it'll no longer work as a ssstamp." Wyvern halts in front of C with a smug expression and raises his new Acceptance Brandishing Iron. "Give me the palm of your hand so I can label ya accepted, C... that is, unless you'd like to be brandished elsewhere?"

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"Perhaps... a new sheet of parchment could be found, Mr. Almost Dragon?" C glances around, shrugs, and pulls out a sheet of paper from his satchel. "Being a scribe, one often is wont to carry such things around..." Holding it out, C somewhat nervously offers it, preferring the sheet to his flesh. "If that's all right?"

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"Alright, alright! No need for sssscare tactics."

 

Wyvern casts another worried glance at Mynx's flexed claws, then quickly grabs the Acceptance Brandishing Iron and dives in to mark the application sheet 'Accepted.' He holds up the paper as if it were a shield. "There, sssee? All finished. Eheheh. Heh."

 

OOC: An ACCEPTED application C, welcome to the Mighty Pen. :) I hope you find us a friendly little community to write with, and look forward to collaborating with you some more. Speaking of which, I'll brief you on your magazine quest later! ;-)

Edited by Tanuchan
continuity check

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