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SW has a new untitled Guru in General
Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
Profile #23
The only "normal" title he would possibly get is Canned, so...

I don't think that reaching 2000 so quickly merits congratulation, except in a few rare cases (namely Alorael's and Drakey's). I liked it more when only the deserving had exclusive titles. Welcome to the club, though, Ben, and please stay in it as long as possible.

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And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it.
-The Last Pendragon

Polaris = joy.

In case of emergency, break glass.
Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00
If you could meet one person off this board.. in General
Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
Profile #56
...yeah.

I only gave one name because that's what the topic asked for, but in all honesty I'd like to meet most of Spiderweb. TM, not so much. Drakey, Aran, Thuryl, and Motrax, to name just a few, on the other hand...

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And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it.
-The Last Pendragon

Polaris = joy.

In case of emergency, break glass.
Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00
What the heck? in General
Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
Profile #3
Ironically, creating such a topic is a great way to get a rating of one star. Don't worry about it, though. Many ratings here are arbitrary, and karma really isn't a great indicator of the general feeling towards anyone. In all honesty, the Spiderweb populace in general is probably apathetic rather than hostile towards you; 66 posts are rarely enough to accuractely judge a person.

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And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it.
-The Last Pendragon

Polaris = joy.

In case of emergency, break glass.
Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00
What's your most embarassing moment? in General
Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
Profile #21
More fun that way, though.

I tend to embarass myself on what seems to be a daily basis, but small things I can handle. Bigger things... hmm... one time I announced a piano piece before playing it in a school concert, played the first half or so, then suddenly realized I'd somehow switched over to a different piece along the way. I finished the piece and disappeared for a bit afterwards, although nobody ever mentioned my mistake.

I'm sure there are plenty more, but I'm at a lost for the moment.

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And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it.
-The Last Pendragon

Polaris = joy.

In case of emergency, break glass.
Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00
THE ABOMINABLE PHOTO THREAD: THE THIRD COMING! in General
Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
Profile #183
Or for it, is what I think he's saying.

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And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it.
-The Last Pendragon

Polaris = joy.

In case of emergency, break glass.
Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00
The Mountain of Shadows RP in General
Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
Profile #135
A chill wind swept through the forest, and Lisha pulled the cloak tight around her body, shivering. A dead leaf swirled through the air before her before impaling itself on a twig. Fools, she thought, crushing the leaf and its bane beneath a leather boot. Following that abomination into an unknown rune. They may be writhing in a desert inferno right now, or trapped and crushed beneath leagues of stone, and they deserve it. Trust is a weakness. Andros, Cyrus... well. The sun shall rise without them, and possibly be the brighter for it. But the druid...

A rabbit poked its quivering nose through the underbrush, then vanished. Seconds later, a great owl spread its wings and launched itself from its perch. Lisha drew the hood tighter around her face. Perhaps I placed too much trust in him. But perhaps... perhaps those of us without worthy education and prudent caution are the most trustworthy of us all. Of them all, she corrected herself. First giving her name, then placing simple Aramites at her own level? If I don't find a place to rest soon, she thought, I'll be placing my poison in that shadow elf's hands...

A twig cracked behind her and she glanced surreptitiously over her shoulder. The path was empty. You're losing your senses, she told herself. Wind does that out here, not just beings. She walked on, right hand slowly closing around the hilt of a long knife. She couldn't be far from a sufficient tree now, but without taking seemingly unnecessary precautions, she would have been dead long since.

The steady stream of soft morning sunlight was broken for an instant and her hand tightened instantaneously. So she was being followed. But by whom, or by what? None of the forest's beasts were that elusive; none that would come so close, anyway. Unless -

Lisha threw the cloak open, drew her twin knifes from their sashes, and hit the ground rolling in one fluid motion. The silent elf, suddenly before her, leapt back and drew her own weapons. However, the assassin was too swift - standing, she immediately hurled her entire weight against the slender elf and knocked her to the ground. A moment later, both were locked in combat on the forest floor.

"I've-"

"Yah! Filthy-"

"Halt!"

"Foul-"

Melora found Lisha's neck and pressed a blade to it. Lisha curled into a ball, effectively paralyzing the elf's wrist and straining her fingers. Her own knife flew from her hand as Melora struck the fist with her own hilt. Lisha, struggling to roll on top, pinned both arms beneath the combined weight of their bodies. Knowing when a fight was lost, she froze.

"What do you want from me, elf?"

"The use of my arm, to begin with."

"My business is my own. Go back to your people."

Melora's murderous glare went unobserved. "I do as I choose, not as I am ordered. Why don't you, rather, return to your people? There, you do the reverse."

"What do you want with me? I have not attacked you. You have no business with me."

"No," Melora said, relaxing her grip slightly. "No, I have no business with you. And yet you and your fellows have twice assaulted me without provocation. What sort of world must you live in where violence is your first reaction to any situation involving aliens?"

The irony was not lost on Lisha, but she let it go. "Tell me what you want, then leave. I only wish to pass, unmolested, through these communal woods. Y-"

"Strangely enough, that is also what I want - for you to pass unmolested through the forest."

The peculiarity of the statement confounded Lisha for a moment. Then, slowly, she began shaking. As the elf looked on in bewilderment, peels of wild, uncontrollable laughter rose from her breast, echoing through the woods and sending the remaining birds into the air. Utterly unable to regain control of herself, Lisha rolled out of Melora's loosened arms and onto a bed of leaves. Tears pouring down her face, Lisha grasped her sides desperately, struggling to regain her breath while simultaneously pouring it into the cool air in a very audible expression of merriment. It was several minutes before she settled down and forced her lungs back to their regular rhythm. Exhausted, lying helpless on the forest floor, Lisha heaved a deep sigh.

"Finished?"

Her mouth twitching, Lisha looked up into the elf's face. The startled, contemptuous look in her eyes almost threw the spy into a new fit of laughter, but fortunately for her, she had not the energy.

"Yes, we humans have our weaknesses," she admitted, still smiling. "Laughter is one of them, especially when we go overlong without rest. Had you been an enemy of mine, your words would have been more deadly than a drop of the tomb vipers' poison. As I now realize, however, by the continued beating of my heart, you are not, and so probably never were, if I know your kind. Either that or you've aquired some sense of honor, in which case you are not the same creature I've read about. As I'm not dead yet, though", she said, sitting up, "I'm willing to believe the former."

"A repetition of such a show of weakness may change the situation somewhat, but no, I am not your enemy. If you are in such dire need of rest, I shall soon seem your greatest ally. Come," she said, rising lightly to her feet, "a suitable shelter is not far from here." She kicked the lost knife in Lisha's direction and turned her back, not entirely turning her face with it. "Your friends, by the way, are alive and relatively safe. The hidden village of Verwey and its silver-haired inhabitants will not survive long, but the other humans and the undead will be out well before it is overrun by darkness. They, like us, do not appreciate the presence of outsiders. They will, however, tolerate them for as long as necessary."

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And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it.
-The Last Pendragon

Polaris = joy.

In case of emergency, break glass.
Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00
If you could meet one person off this board.. in General
Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
Profile #19
Alorael, assuming he's a real person and all.

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And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it.
-The Last Pendragon

Polaris = joy.

In case of emergency, break glass.
Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00
The Mountain of Shadows RP in General
Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
Profile #121
Lisha spat, disgusted, and turned away from the newcomer kneeling by the dead wolf. All eyes watched as she bent over another corpse and withdrew her thrown dagger. Slowly, meaningfully, she wiped her blade clean on the beast's mangy fur. Straightening, conscious of the tension in the air, she made a show of finding the dagger's hilt and snapped it back into place.

Guy rose, trembling. His voice became a ragged, deadly hiss. "There is no cause for such-"

"There was a cause, you fool," she said in an equally soft, dangerous voice. "No druid as worthy of his staff as Sequoia would permit such a loss of life without desperate need. If you have lived in these parts so long without finding death at the ends of their demonic snouts," she continued, noting his garb, "you are either very lucky or... or you are on their side."

Confused and somewhat nervous, Sullust glanced at his companion. His face had become a mask, but the suggestion of what lay behind the mask forced him to step back.

"They are on no side, adventurer, but-"

"I am no adventurer," she spat. "You know nothing of my- of our goal." Remembering the nearby Aramite spy, she tempered her words. She had become too conspicuous. The King was a fool to hire a man who would so willingly betray his secret status - even her own uncharacteristic openness had revealed naught but her name - but others here, mainly Melora and the mountain man, merited caution.

"Your goal is no different," Guy retorted, "from that of all other wanderers, only more... successful. You want gold, maybe fame, maybe to prove your courage, and a trail of thoughtless death and destruction follows. But you will eventually come against an insurmountable obstacle, like all the others, and your own trail will catch up to you. I only hope it finds you sooner rather than later."

With that, he turned and left the clearing. Another minute in that scene of mindless waste and disregard, he knew, and in the presence of those murderers, would destroy his self-control. If only Sullust would remain behind with them...

He heard crashing in the underbrush and heaved a shuddering sigh. "Wait," Sullust called. "Don't leave. I won't give up, and only you can lead me to my destination." Seeing his mild flattery fail, Sullust continued to trail Guy. "You're right, death will follow them wherever they go. And I want none of what they seek; I only want to lift the darkness from the m-"

"You can't," Guy interrupted. "As you have just seen, the demon alone does not shadow this earth. Man is his unwitting ally, not his enemy. Man cannot leave well enough alone; he must assert control over nature, and will gladly kill for that end. You can't lift the darkness."

They fell silent.

Back in the clearing, Lisha shook her head and looked away from the others. "Fool," she muttered. "Good riddance. Would he have us bare our throats and our breasts to their teeth and claws? You are right, good brother; we had no choice. The normal methods of turning them aside did not work because they are not normal. Only death could stop them." So why has he survived?

"Let us leave this vile place," Sequoia suggested, placing a broad, comforting hand on the back of her cloak. "We now know to avoid Nature's children, whatever the reason." His face clouded, imperceptible in the lingering darkness. "I... I have other company now."

"The druid is right," Melora intoned. "We must leave or the scent of death will attract other predators. Come; we have little time."

Cyrus, who was missing only an arm and several toes by this point, rose from the ground apologetically. "I can follow, but I must soon continue-"

"We'll halt before long," Lisha said shortly. "I- we must rest before we are completely drained. Sequoia must regain his energy." And I must regain my prespicuity and fade into the shadows once more, she thought. I have come far too close to revealing myself. Fixing her hood as she had observed many Aramites do, she moved off into the thickening woods on a path conspicuously divergent from Guy's. The undead and the druid began to follow, careful to keep the elf before them.

Andros also began to follow, but stumbled over a fleshy object at his feet. He stepped over the wolf, then paused. He had made his presence known in order to prevent violence, not to contribute to it, yet he had already caused and aided in several deaths and was sure to at least witness many more. Looking down at his loaded bow, the scar still evident, up at the stiff, receding back of Lisha, then back at the broken branches and bent flowers of Sullust's path, Andros pondered...

EDIT: Typos.

[ Monday, August 08, 2005 16:18: Message edited by: Lady Davida ]

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And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it.
-The Last Pendragon

Polaris = joy.

In case of emergency, break glass.
Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00
1000 posts! in General
Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
Profile #41
I propose a new contest: rather than attempting to accumulate the largest post count, or beat others to it, I say you go for the lowest post count to member number ratio. It's too late for me, but I'm sure some of you could excel at this. Why not give it a try?

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And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it.
-The Last Pendragon

Polaris = joy.

In case of emergency, break glass.
Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00
Odyssey the legend of Nemesis in General
Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
Profile #11
No, actually, it's not. Only the Exile games are free.

I played Odyssey a long time ago but got stuck early on and moved on to other things. It could potentially make a very good scenario, though, from what I've seen and heard.

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And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it.
-The Last Pendragon

Polaris = joy.

In case of emergency, break glass.
Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00
The Mountain of Shadows RP in General
Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
Profile #107
Lisha turned from watching Caecus barely in time to see the silver dagger bury itself in a wolf's blood-red throat. She looked in alarm at the elf, then back at the wolf; how had she produced the weapon so quickly? Her throw hadn't even attracted the attention of Lisha's well-trained eyes. The beast's yelp of pain was cut short by a torrent of steaming blood; it writhed in pain for several seconds before falling limp, suspended by the druid's vicious thorns. Melora gave a visible nod of relief and turned back to the pile of armor at her feet.

Curved blade in hand, Lisha flew to the dead wolf and wrenched the dagger free, simultaneously deepening the wound with her long knife. She stepped back to avoid the pouring blood and wiped the dagger clean, then held it up for inspection. Eyes widening, she turned and went to Melora.

"Mithril?"

Melora reached for the dagger, but Lisha tightened her grip. "Only a precaution." She tried twisting the blade, to no avail. An angry grunt of effort tainted by a hint of unfamiliar fear came to them from the direction of the druid. A moment later, a third wolf sported a dagger in its heaving side. Caecus removed the beast's head with a single swipe of his sword, avoiding Lisha's weapon.

"A necessary precaution, however," Lisha said, turning back to the elf. "As Brother Sequoia said, these are no ordinary wolves. Nor are they werewolves, as we now know," she continued, relinquishing her grip on the silver dagger. A nearby portion of the hedge began its decay prematurely and left a brittle brown wall of thorns between the group and their unnatural assailants. Lisha positioned herself to defend the area of the wall if it were breached.

"I have never seen wolves act this way," replied Melora, returning the dagger to her sleeve. "They have attacked stray humans, of course, and the odd ground dweller, but never with such fervor and determination. What little minds they have are no longer their own."

A wolf found the dead portion of the wall and immediately leapt through it, ignoring its pain. Lisha ran at it and slid her blade deep into its belly as it jumped at her. A second wolf followed, then a third, as if what was seen by one was known by all. Caecus noticed and turned to them, raising his arms above his helmet and whispering a curse. A bolt burried itself in a wolf's hairy chest and knocked it, dead, into its campanion, which stumbled but sprung back up as Lisha threw herself on it. A well-placed dagger ended the wolf's miserable life, though not before it let out an unearthly howl.

Brother Sequoia, shaking with rage and sadness and fatigue, stumbled to the opening and placed his staff in the hole. For a moment beautiful spring leaves burst from the previously dead branches, then slowed and stopped. The druid fell to the ground, panting from the effort. "I can't... go-"

The ring of claws on steel pierced the clearing. Caecus turned back in time to see a struggling wolf disappear from the hedge. The group heard the sounds of a struggle, and then another pitiful yelp of pain. Andros rushed to the opening, bow ready, but stopped in surprise. He turned to adress the group, but Lisha smiled grimly and cut him off -

"Yes - we are not alone."

EDIT: OOC: Ugh. I need sleep, as I'm sure you can tell. At least that partially answers your question, Aran.

[ Saturday, August 06, 2005 20:14: Message edited by: Lady Davida ]

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And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it.
-The Last Pendragon

Polaris = joy.

In case of emergency, break glass.
Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00
hey, the oldest sign in here in General
Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
Profile #4
I really don't understand this obsession with post counts, but I guess I'm not one to talk...

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And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it.
-The Last Pendragon

Polaris = joy.

In case of emergency, break glass.
Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00
Favorite car in General
Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
Profile #10
The first few posts in this topic made me scroll up to make sure I hadn't entered "You know you're a geek when..." by accident.

I'd like a sleek, forest green convertable with silver stripes and all, but at the moment, I'll take whatever I can get (and pay for). I'm taking my test soon, and I drive a truck or a minivan when practicing.

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And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it.
-The Last Pendragon

Polaris = joy.

In case of emergency, break glass.
Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00
The Mountain of Shadows RP in General
Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
Profile #96
quote:
Originally written by Spring:

OOC: I actually thought that 'one per day' meant one per real day, our time.
It did, although now it's two per day instead.

Aran, I'm beginning to agree with Sullust; IC UNDER's do hold up the RP. If you want to type a long, wordy, complex post but don't want someone else's post to cancel yours out, write some sort of outline and then edit the rest in. Maybe we were going to fast, but we're not now.

(IC after Aran)

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And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it.
-The Last Pendragon

Polaris = joy.

In case of emergency, break glass.
Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00
The Mountain of Shadows RP in General
Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
Profile #85
Sorry for the confusion, everyone. The names are correct in my post, but I suppose I didn't explain that well enough. Basically, Cyrus and Caecus escorted Melora together until Caecus took note of the soon-to-be-dead man, at which time Cyrus was put in charge. When the two undead came together again, however, Cyrus transfered guardianship to Caecus because Lisha wanted to speak with Caecus and Melora but not the others. Sequoia, therefore, could only have been speaking with Cyrus and Andros. Even if he had been speaking with Caecus, however, the spirit would most likely not have openly revealed to Sequoia what he had hidden from Lisha.

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And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it.
-The Last Pendragon

Polaris = joy.

In case of emergency, break glass.
Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00
Who's your role model? in General
Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
Profile #30
Yes, Aran, Nathaniel Hawthorne. He also wrote The House of the Seven Gables, which is almost as famous as The Scarlet Letter.

That kind of role model applies in my daily life, too, by the way. If I have a friend with a certain favorable characteristic and a bunch of unfavorable ones, I'll discriminate and adopt some traits while rejecting others. That's what positive peer pressure is all about, I say: take what's best, leave the rest.

EDIT: Typo.

[ Wednesday, August 03, 2005 19:16: Message edited by: Lady Davida ]

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And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it.
-The Last Pendragon

Polaris = joy.

In case of emergency, break glass.
Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00
We Are Not Alone in General
Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
Profile #11
Nice find, Aran. Nobody knew about this? I wonder if this'll result in a sudden influx of new members, some of whom already know how to RP...

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And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it.
-The Last Pendragon

Polaris = joy.

In case of emergency, break glass.
Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00
The Mountain of Shadows RP in General
Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
Profile #76
The mortals listened carefully as their undead companions related their parts in the recent proceedings. As the spirit's tale drew to a close, the archer came up behind him, looking somewhat indignant.

"What'd I say about fighting?" he asked, indicating the bound elf. He fixed a bolt conspicuously into his crossbow, watching the group standing around him. His menacing glare suddenly betrayed shock, then fiery rage, as a small knife buried itself in the frame of his beloved weapon, rendering it useless.

"Who is this?" Lisha inquired, her lips twisting into a contemptuous smile. "I'd thought that these shadow elves scorned the aid of humans-"

Cyrus' heavily armored limb checked the archer's violent leap and hurled him to the ground. Brother Sequoia, suddenly noticing the packed but headless and motionless suit of armor lying behind Caecus, firmly planted himself between the other man and the spirit who had raised his swords and advanced on him.

"Touch him not!" he bellowed. "Unless my eyes deceive me, you have shed enough blood already."

Lisha, following the druid's gaze, shuddered. The leaves were still. "Who- then-" She paused, thinking quickly. "Brother, please go with Cyrus and take this man. His bow will be easily mended. I must consult with these two alone."

The druid nodded, sensing the urgency of the situation and glad to separate Lisha and the elf from the attacker. The shadow elf... he shook his head, turning. A pity. This area had once been a haven of harmony and peace between mother nature and her children. With the awakening of the darkness, this peace could be no more...

"Caecus, who was that necromancer?" Lisha whispered harshly, keeping an eye on the elf's every movement. The spirit evidenced a bit too much pleasure in his new role of captor...

"He was no necromancer. He styled himself a warrior and a rune mage, but his power was not his own. If what you say is true, he must have been a puppet of Órloki. He inscribed these runes," he continued, holding the coldly glimmering metal aloft in one gauntlet. The ghastly glow threw a pale blue light over the elf's defiant features.

Better to resolve this as soon as possible. "He may have had no further use, but his death was unneccesary. The violence characteristic of your kind is not altogether absent in you."

"He reminded me of my- of my past," Caecus lied. The elf shifted suddenly and he tightened his grip, probably hurting her. What reason had he to tell the mortal of his potential position, that which had been filled by the dead man? He watched the skeleton across the clearing. How was he different?

Her suspicions growing, Lisha sought and held the gaze of the elf woman. A cold fire blazed ferociously in the eyes of the spirit's captive, and within moments, Lisha was forced to feign interest in the creature's garb.

"Why do you disturb us, elf?"

"Why do you disturb us, Easterling?"

Lisha started; she had not let her guard down since entering the village. How did the elf know? "I don't- you can't- answer the question," she finished lamely. "These woods are yours no more than they are his," she said, indicating the druid, "or theirs," the undead. Not entirely true, she knew... she hoped the druid was making better progress with the foolish archer. That was a good knife.

OOC: Not bad at all, Ephesos. You have indeed done them justice.

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And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it.
-The Last Pendragon

Polaris = joy.

In case of emergency, break glass.
Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00
Say your prayers... in General
Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
Profile #15
I only pray before a meal if I have reason to suspect it's poisoned. :P

While I believe in God and in Jesus as our savior, I am not strictly a Christian and feel that prayer is mainly a way of emphasizing one's belief and highlighting areas of need. God knows your thoughts whether your hands are together or not, and I feel no need to follow an empty tradition. The family reasons mentioned above are valid, of course, but it would take more than an evening prayer to bring my family together, and I'd rather leave things the way they are.

Jeros, I find that ironic and somewhat encouraging... I'm glad you're open-minded...

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And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it.
-The Last Pendragon

Polaris = joy.

In case of emergency, break glass.
Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00
Who's your role model? in General
Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
Profile #9
I don't really have a role model. Hawthorne influences my writing style, Debussy my piano playing, etc. but that's as far as I go.

--------------------
And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it.
-The Last Pendragon

Polaris = joy.

In case of emergency, break glass.
Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00
The Mountain of Shadows RP in General
Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
Profile #53
Lisha walked on in silence, keeping up a fast pace so as to put as much distance between herself and the Aramite town as possible. The druid, she noted, had barely left her side. She had been midly surprised when her idle invitation was taken up, and became increasingly more so with every step he took on her path rather than that of the greedy adventurer she'd happily left behind. What reason he had to follow her into the dark wilderness in the company of two undead warriors she knew not, but it all but confirmed her suspicions that the man was not a permanent resident of that particular village. Would a simple gold-seeker or a man merely bored with life take such a risk, though? His confidence bespoke powers greater than those with which she had originally credited him. As a chill wind swept through the clearing, disturbing the leaves, she wrapped the cloak more tightly around herself. Perhaps he could be of assistance.

Turning without a pause, Lisha sought the attention of her semi-willing undead charges. The druid, she decided, was unlikely to use any discoveries she might make against her. Besides, there were ways of keeping a man silent, if need be.

"You, skeleton," she began. The host halted. "What was your name in life?"

"Cyrus; in death, too. And y-"

"Whence were you raised?"

"In childhood or in-"

"From your grave."

The skeleton thought, puzzled. "A few towns over... not far from here... I wasn't in a proper grave, mind you, and I've made-"

"Not far from here, you say. Hmm. Who is your master?"

"I have no master," replied the grinning skull with a touch of pride. "I returned from the ground with a mind of me own."

"Of course, of course," she replied, distracted. "No special runes or aught like our friend here?"

"What business is it of yours?" interjected the sullen spirit. "Who cares where he's from?"

"In all my years," Lisha replied, turning, "I've come across few truly conscious undead, and none without the telltale residue of necromancy. You've both been cursed, powerfully cursed, or my teachers of the arcane deserve death by fire. Why Cyrus here lacks the accompanying hostility, however, and why it is but pale in you, I can hardly fathom. That you were both risen in the area surrounding King Albert's mountain, however, leaves little doubt in my mind that Órloki had a hand in this."

"Órloki?"

"Sister," spoke the druid, ignoring the spirit, "what do you hope to accomplish by this course? These undead have harmed no one, and are thus unlikely to do so in the future. What can you possibly gain by bringing them to Órloki?"

"To the master of my swords? Then-"

"What makes you think that is my purpose?" asked Lisha with a smile. "I need their knowledge, not their aid - or presence. But it is safer for them here, away from both the villagers and the demon-"

"I will go to Órloki and have my runes removed," asserted the spirit, beginning to move in the direction of the mountain. "If it is he who engraved them, then I shall soon rest in peace!"

"And what makes you think he will remove his own curse from his own automaton?" The spirit stopped. "He brought you back for a reason, and is unlikely to relinquish his power willingly. No; I do not trust such powerful necromancy, but I have no reason to harm the sentient undead, and you would do well to stay by my side. I, too, must find the master of your swords; together, we have a greater chance of success.

"We mortals, however, have no chance of success at anything but carelessness and suicide if we are not well-rested. I have been awake for too long, and cannot go on without sleep. You undead have the advantage of eternal vigilance; if you wish to pool our efforts, then, first guard my rest. Our rest, if you wish it," she said to the druid as the undead moved off, speaking quietly among themselves, "though I hardly feel safe unprotected against such monsters of the demon's creation. If you wish to take turns sleeping, I beg for the first shift."

Brother Sequoia raised a bushy eyebrow. "I am always safe in a forest," he responded, indicating the surrounding flora. "We have adequate protection, whether we need it or not." And so, hands gently resting on dagger hilts within her cloak, Lisha lay her head on a pile of leaves and allowed her eyelids to slide together softly but firmly.

OOC: Technically it's a new day. :P Any fewer than two posts per day would be difficult and somewhat counterproductive.

Ephesos, one of the most important aspects of RPing is knowing what one can and cannot do with the characters of others. It's always risky to put words into the mouth of someone else's creation and to pull puppet strings other than your own, but the lack of such risks makes for a boring RP. I try to integrate other characters in my posts as much as possible without interfering with an RPer's idea for his or her character, and I always stay within limits. For instance, had you wanted to accompany Ironman instead, you could have easily had Brother Sequoia turn aside after walking through the hedge rather than following Lisha far into the forest. I always try to leave my posts open enough to accommodate the ideas of others. At this point, Sequoia, Cyrus, and Caecus could easily abandon Lisha and return to the village if they so desired. I specifically did not send the druid to sleep, nor did I state that the undead kept watch all night. The trick is finding the right balance between good RPing and exerting undue influence over the actions of other characters. I only hope I've got it right.

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And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it.
-The Last Pendragon

Polaris = joy.

In case of emergency, break glass.
Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00
Ah...It's good to be back. in General
Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
Profile #29
quote:
Originally written by Aranfoolcaytar:

I saw SiS around on Polaris... she's been quiet though...
IMAGE(http://www.polarisboard.org/board/html/emoticons/ph34r.gif) Please tell me that's a typo...

quote:
Originally written by Demon-Kid:

Spannish is a challenging language...
English too, apparently... :P

quote:
Originally written by spy.there:

Who is SIS?
So Incredibly Sad, one of our (moderately long-time) French members who I thought was male, but now I'm not so sure...

--------------------
And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it.
-The Last Pendragon

Polaris = joy.

In case of emergency, break glass.
Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00
The Mountain of Shadows RP in General
Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
Profile #49
OOC: Not Lisha either; she's off in the forest with the undead and the druid. Wisey must've gotten a little confused. Not hard to do, especially with three character names beginning with the letter C...

--------------------
And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it.
-The Last Pendragon

Polaris = joy.

In case of emergency, break glass.
Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00
Our President in General
Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
Profile #6
Could've been anyone... IMAGE(http://www.polarisboard.org/board/html/emoticons/rolleyes.gif)

I'm not a fan of Bush but I support him and the war. I agree with demonslaeyr - Bush Sr. had the oppurtunity to do the world a great service but, instead, backed off and left what he thought was well enough alone. Nobody's perfect, but somebody has to fix the results.

EDIT: Newfangled auto-images. In my day... *sigh*

[ Tuesday, August 02, 2005 17:46: Message edited by: Lady Davida ]

--------------------
And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it.
-The Last Pendragon

Polaris = joy.

In case of emergency, break glass.
Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00
The Mountain of Shadows RP in General
Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!
Member # 919
Profile #42
A shadow drew away from the tavern wall and away from the shocked townspeople returning to the well. Lisha slid the dagger back into its sheath and drew a pair of slashing knives. She quickly cut a hole for herself in the thinnest part of the thorny wall, the part furthest from the crowd, then became entirely motionless to listen to the conversation within.

"Thank you, Brother, that's better."

"That won't stop me!"

"It wasn't meant to stop you, spirit," a deep voice intoned. "It was meant to give me a moment's peace. You, too, have benefitted from nature's bounty?"

"I will be rewarded as handsomely as my customers are able if I rid them of these undead," responded the first voice shortly. "I can destroy them now, Brother, or I can lead them from this village and return alone. The choice is yours," finished the assassin, idly fingering a sharp blade.

"There is no need for destruction, friend," the monk responded, drowning out the sudden protestations of the skeleton and threats of the spirit. "I shall open a passage through the thorns and you can return here in an hour to collect your... gold."

All four turned suddenly as a blade flashed through the last layer of hedge between Lisha and the clearing around the well. It took the mortal eyes several seconds to recognize the dark shape as that of a human. When she spoke, it was with the affected accent of an Aramite peasant.

"The undead shall follow me from this place," Lisha said, leaving little doubt in their minds of the accuracy of her prediction. "You may accompany me if you wish," she continued, addressing the monk. "You, adventurer... find a place to hide for however long it takes to deceive their simple minds," she said, allowing a tinge of Eastern contempt into her voice. Not enough to betray her nationality, of course, but enough to convey the message to Cain.

"I shall decide what is done with the skeleton," Cain replied, anger and a hint of fear shadowing his brow. Who was this woman, and where had she come from? Her bearing, garb, and accent suggested she was no more than a farmer's wife, but this was obviously not the case... "If you wish to follow us for their safety, feel free," he continued in a mocking tone. All the better to keep an eye on you. He wonderred how much she had heard.

Lisha's smile was swallowed by the darkness. "Very well, then. Brother?"

The monk, quickly regaining control, murmurred under his breath while the thorns drew back far enough to allow the entire party through. They slipped off toward the remaining woods, the spirit half-willingly and the humans wishing their companions' armor would stop clanking so loudly.

--------------------
And though the musicians would die, the music would live on in the imaginations of all who heard it.
-The Last Pendragon

Polaris = joy.

In case of emergency, break glass.
Posts: 3351 | Registered: Saturday, April 6 2002 08:00

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