Crowns... The crowns which once graced the heads of Kayana Waylend, queen of Dregar, of Allurial, greatest queen Mistone has known, of Rory Rockfist, king of Bloody Gate, Briant Drayton, king of Erylin, the home of the Wolfswood, and Sinthar Bloodstone, warlord who once would have ruled the world.
Twenty-five years. Almost out of his tweens, and one rash action - however justified - had landed him in this stinking hole. For twenty-five long, filthy, underfed years.Daylight filtered in through the barred window, the dusty sunbeams striking the gaunt figure laid out beneath them. Pathetic, he was. Just another Tenderfoot, wasting away in prison for a petty crime... Not even tough enough to stay hard in this hard life. Barret knew what that was like. He, too, had succumbed to despair after the first year in the then-pitch black darkness. It had consumed him, and everything he was... Even the Tricks, the thieves that had reared him, grew faint in his mind.But there was always pain.From the first day of the halfling's arrival, the other prisoners chose him as their whipping boy. Smaller than most of them, they thought him an easy target... For just one or two of them, that idea proved wrong indeed; six of his tormentors spent weeks in Solitary, healing broken limbs and battered organs. But they quickly learned to overcome him in groups, beating him to the ground until they were broken up by the guards. Barret's sharp features were quickly distorted, and his first year was spent healing... Until he simply stopped fighting back.Apathy and despair became his world. The better part of two decades in the dark Pit to look forward to, he let go of hope, of pride, and suffered without contest the jabs and jeers of his fellow convicts. "Shortling" became his name, and while he still endured the occasional beating, he was, for the most part, spared much continuing physical harm.But the pain went deeper than flesh and bone, searing what was left of his mind with a quiet hate.And so fifteen years passed, Barret now just another quiet prisoner who ate his gruel and sat in a corner, waiting to die or be released.But then, fifteen years into Barret's stay, a man named Erelos was put Inside. The flamboyant thief and murderer found the mass prison perfectly to his liking, and, with the thorough beatings of three of the tougher convicts, secured a position as one of the better-respected among the prisoners. And Erelos did not like halflings, oh no.For a time, Erelos' cruelties, both physical and verbal, went uncontested by the former Trick. The horrible things the human did, and forced Barret to do... For a time, the halfling stayed quiet between screams of pain, and took the punishment without argument.But down within the halfling's heart, the hatred grew.It grew and grew, quietly overwhelming the quiet apathy that had consumed him. It grew, until the despair could hold it no longer, and was far too great to be directed inwards. When that dam inside his soul broke, and the hate spilled free, Barret opened his eyes for what seemed like the first time in many years.And when he looked out, and saw those accursed black human eyes staring back, he decided he would take them. Later that day, he found his chance.Erelos never saw the halfling approach. Tiny, strong fingers were plunged into his eyes, clawing away their last hope of vision. Moments later, his knees were broken... And then, first, one of his flailing arms. And then the other.Barret revisited upon the human every cruelty that had been done to him over the year of Erelos' stay, and found himself laughing as he did it. The guards did not move from their posts outside the bars until the halfling was done with his revenge, and Erelos was never seen in the common cell again.Only one man dared torment the halfling again, and, with what may have been no more than a lucky punch to the kidney, put the man out of commission for several days. Barret did not go out of his way to find conflict, and no more conflict came to him, so his days passed in quiet hatred. "Good behavior," this was labeled by the guards. Nine years of this "good behavior" passed, and the halfling was brought before tribunal twice, to determine if he was ready to be released into society again.The second time, they gave him one week to remain in prison. If he withstood that week, and kept up his good record, he would be released.So now, he waited, staring at the worthless, wasting half-corpse of the barely breathing human under the window, and counted the places he could hit the man and kill him.The worthless Tenderfoots in here, all either mad or rotting. What other Shortlings were here were no better...But his name was called.It was time to go outside.
B) been hunting for a link between music and magic
Original Post Die 5: Star - Shadon Moon - Crescents Sword - Kukri Coin - Innpiece Key - Housekey Cup - Gemmed Goblet Tried to go with themes for them, but in the end each face is a piece of art all its own.
(8:14:10 PM) Stephen: *The old man knocks at the door, humming softly to himself as he waits for an answer.*(8:14:54 PM) darkstorme: *a hooded figure opens the door, then lowers his hood to reveal the disheveled hair and sharp-toothed smile Pyrran's familiar with*(8:15:09 PM) darkstorme: Pyrran! Good to see you, come in, come in.(8:16:09 PM) darkstorme: *he ushers the older man into a sitting room down the hall and to the left, richly appointed with rugs, chairs, and a marble fireplace, as well as a chess set off to one side*(8:16:32 PM) darkstorme: Can I offer you something to drink, or eat? Arynne, as you may or may not know, is now the head cook at the Arms, and her food is critically acclaimed.(8:17:07 PM) Stephen: **He smiles, gliding in with his usual inexplicable grace, cobbled-together equipment jingling.* Ah, I see you've done fairly well by yourself in the past years, old friend. You should stop by the Stars some time... **He chuckles quietly, shaking his head.* No, no... I'm familiar with her status and her food, but I'm not terribly hungry.(8:17:44 PM) darkstorme: *snaps his fingers thoughtfully* The Stars... oh yes, that place you and Karn opened down Haven way, yes?(8:18:24 PM) Stephen: Aye, that's the one. We're doing relatively well, though it's getting harder and harder to keep the kegs of the house cider filled.(8:19:10 PM) Stephen: It's a blend Rhynnala and I worked out; primarily Rilaran apples, but with a dash of dried Molten Isle Reds.(8:19:34 PM) darkstorme: *quirks an eyebrow* "Rilaran" apples?(8:19:56 PM) Stephen: **He smiles wryly.* As long as that darkear's breathing, it won't be Alindor to me.(8:20:17 PM) darkstorme: Ah, but Apples from Alindor is wonderfully alliterative.(8:21:00 PM) darkstorme: Regardless, you were asking after Feldspar in your note.(8:21:08 PM) Stephen: True... *He taps the side of his chin thoughfully.* Mayhap Alindoran Apples... Ah, aye. Feldspar.(8:21:10 PM) darkstorme: I'm afraid I don't have too much to offer beyond what you likely already know.(8:21:22 PM) darkstorme: The depths of the Haven mines, for one...(8:21:37 PM) darkstorme: But with the gnoll infestation, it's often more trouble than it's worth even to fetch amethyst from the higher levels.(8:22:08 PM) Stephen: *The minstrel nods, again giving that wry smile.* I've been trying to roust the bloody dogmen for years, with little success.(8:23:01 PM) darkstorme: The other viable option, in my experience, has been Bear Island.(8:23:26 PM) darkstorme: Though again, a fairly significant group of sword-arms is required to penetrate the temple if moving by force..(8:23:30 PM) Stephen: Hm... *He gives a slow nod, staring into the fireplace with a solemn expression.*(8:23:40 PM) darkstorme: And a significant force must still be brought to bear if moving by stealth.(8:23:58 PM) darkstorme: *grins wryly* No pun intended, of course.(8:24:29 PM) Stephen: **He smiles absently, eyes still serious and calculating.* A single mage, myself, and... Mayhaps a helping hand.(8:25:00 PM) darkstorme: Expendable support, such as that garnered by a mage or cleric, seems the best approach. Someone to absorb the damage the brutes can deal out.(8:25:08 PM) Stephen: I wouldn't ask Tim to do it, not since his visit from the Harvester, but...(8:25:27 PM) darkstorme: Tim has had fair success with a new toy of his, in fact, deep on Bear Island.(8:25:42 PM) Stephen: I'm a fairly competent swordsman, Kell. For all my old age, I've learned a few tricks. **He smiles, arching an eyebrow.* New toy?(8:26:07 PM) darkstorme: Well, whether or not you were aware of it, Tim specializes in the field that mages call Evocation.(8:26:21 PM) darkstorme: Very flashy stuff. Fire from air, lightning hurled from hand to hand, that sort of thing.(8:26:44 PM) Stephen: Aye, I've discussed the Weave at length with the fellow, and my understanding of the varying disciplines is competent enough. (8:27:20 PM) Stephen: Though I've still to understand the classification of a good many spells revolving around raw force.(8:27:33 PM) darkstorme: Tim has, however, over the years, found himself envious of those spellcasters who, lacking a companion, can call one up from some mysterious elsewhere to do their bidding.(8:27:51 PM) darkstorme: Because of his work in Evocation, such spells are barred to him.(8:28:45 PM) Stephen: Indeed. The price of specializing in an aspect of an art is weakness in another area, as always; my bladework lacks in strength what it displays in precision.(8:29:11 PM) darkstorme: *nods* However, in his latest breakthrough in his magical studies, he came across a spell created by old Moraken.(8:29:51 PM) darkstorme: The spell seizes upon a tiny model sword, no longer than a pin, enlarges it, imbues it with life of its own, and sends it forth against the caster's foes.(8:29:56 PM) darkstorme: Moraken's Sword, they call it.(8:30:06 PM) Stephen: Oh? I'd think that, Moraken being the master of magical movement... Ah. I've seen the like; made permanent in Eon's Well.(8:30:35 PM) darkstorme: Well, it allows Tim to create help, since he's not summoning it from air.(8:30:50 PM) Stephen: Nasty work, with the proper additions to the product. **He nods.* Aye. How long can he hold it?(8:31:23 PM) darkstorme: As he is merely altering something that is preexisting, I believe it falls under the school known as... *thinks for a moment* Transmutation. As such, it is not barred to him.(8:32:19 PM) Stephen: **He nods again, a glint of curiosity shining in his eyes.* Has he given a go at simply creating a dancing weapon of that sort?(8:33:03 PM) darkstorme: *shakes his head* He's been working at his table in his room upstairs for weeks on one magical experiment after another. It's gotten to the point where I've been afeared to open his chests at all, seeing all that energy pent-up.(8:33:22 PM) darkstorme: I'm sure he's working on something... but I think he's more than passing interested in an old goal of his again.(8:33:30 PM) Stephen: The cloak?(8:34:05 PM) darkstorme: *furrows his brow* Oh, that. That's why I've been hauling sand back and forth - he'll eventually need someone to make components for him, and he's given me a fair few things, so I owe the man.(8:34:07 PM) darkstorme: No, no.(8:34:24 PM) darkstorme: His research into the creation of great magical items is one goal, to be sure.(8:34:37 PM) darkstorme: His other is to remove a castle from the face of Layonara.(8:34:46 PM) darkstorme: Ideally, converting it to glass, but he's not, apparently, picky.(8:36:40 PM) Stephen: *The old Dragoncalled goes very still for a moment, then raises his eyes from the fire to look over at Kell, sapphire gaze carrying a dark weight to it.* Adamantium doesn't melt to glass, as sand and stone may. It's fairly heat-resistant, and even a great force released in an adamantine-laced corridor stands little chance of damaging the black walls.(8:37:15 PM) Stephen: Getting past the dirtguar is a chore, as well. None of their staff is human any longer.(8:37:54 PM) darkstorme: *smiles grimly* I think he'd be willing to settle for a lesser foe... though I can't be sure. He has asked me about my alchemical research - whether I might be able to make the volatile mixture found in a fire bomb into larger drums, keyed with gems infused with the fireball spell.(8:38:03 PM) darkstorme: We shall see.(8:38:49 PM) darkstorme: I think, in a very large part, it is an unadulterated desire to see the conflagration required to perform such a permanent removal.(8:39:37 PM) Stephen: I've managed to reduce the oil down to grains, though it's far trickier than even dissolved silver. A handful of flintstones in the mix can cause quite the stir when struck against something.(8:40:46 PM) darkstorme: *nods* I think for the kick-off, impact will not be necessary.(8:40:59 PM) Stephen: I've witnessed, mayhap, a spell which could do the trick... But then, still, there'd be adamantium raining down upon the populace.(8:42:06 PM) darkstorme: Tim has been working on a way to key gems like these - *here he extracts a glowing gem from a pouch at his belt* to trigger in a chain, given an initial spell. I expect the firestorm unleashed therefrom would raise temperatures in the immediate vicinity, even to the melting point of forged adamantium. Dwarven silver might withstand it, but nothing else.(8:42:36 PM) darkstorme: *nods* The fallout is something he has been pondering. The culmination of his plan is still some years away, I suspect, so it may work itself out.(8:42:46 PM) Stephen: Mithril, you mean. *He smiles faintly.* Aye; difficult to destroy it once it's tempered... Still.(8:43:40 PM) Stephen: Perhaps to charge wands such that they explode, releasing the stored magic... I've done something similar with a lightningrod.(8:44:01 PM) darkstorme: Well, we'll say that he received quite a scolding from Miss Thistletongue for his initial tests out in the sands beyond Spellgard.(8:44:41 PM) Stephen: I'm sure. That's near enough to her home, didn't you know?(8:45:04 PM) darkstorme: *tosses the gem lightly from hand to hand* This gem, and three of its kin, form the basis of a wand that hurls fireballs. Its principal advantage is that more of these can be readily stacked into a crate, which could then be placed by or in the target castle.(8:45:10 PM) darkstorme: Otherwise, the principle is much the same.(8:45:29 PM) darkstorme: *nods* I understand the shock wave from the initial test prompted some fervour in and around her home.(8:46:35 PM) Stephen: It's more the shock from the implosion, actually... One rarely notices when dodging them, per se, but the spell called Fireball is only heat. I've not even seen something catch fire from it.(8:47:19 PM) darkstorme: Have you not? I've seen woods set aflame that, were it not for a fortuitous storm (or perhaps some Druids were watching, eh?) would have burned for days from an errant fireball.(8:48:35 PM) Stephen: Hm. In my experience, the flames burn too hot, for too short a time. Mayhap the lasting heat from a singed object started the fire, or mayhap the spell was altered.(8:48:52 PM) darkstorme: *shrugs* The woods were very dry.(8:49:01 PM) darkstorme: I've no doubt that a lightning strike would've set them ablaze.(8:49:10 PM) darkstorme: As you say, the blast from a fireball does not last long.(8:49:33 PM) darkstorme: It is the *chained* reaction that Tim seeks to perpetuate. Blast after blast after blast, raising the heat in the affected area.(8:50:07 PM) Stephen: **He nods.* A few seconds, maybe as many as ten, could melt granite with relative ease, I suppose.(8:50:25 PM) darkstorme: The fire engendered by fireballs, as best I can tell, has no need of air as do convention fires (though it will exhaust air supplies in closed quarters, I'm afraid.) So subsequent explosions should not be drained of their fuel by preceding ones.(8:50:58 PM) Stephen: Aye... Though you do give me a fair idea.(8:51:10 PM) darkstorme: *cocks an eyebrow*(8:51:31 PM) Stephen: *A somewhat wicked grin spreads across the old man's face as he nods.* A way to clear out the gnolls.(8:52:05 PM) darkstorme: *cautiously* We WOULD wish the mines intact after the fact, surely.(8:52:56 PM) Stephen: Intact enough, structurally, aye. The trick would be sealing off the vents that were cut to ward against the very fate I intend for the dogmen.(8:53:28 PM) darkstorme: Ah. I thought that might be your plan. Tricky work, though. Vents were drilled all through the mines to prevent such a catastrophe back when the mines were functional.(8:53:56 PM) darkstorme: Coal dust is vicious stuff if set ablaze, and it wouldn't have done to have the miners escape the conflagration only to suffocate.(8:54:17 PM) darkstorme: We are, I'm afraid, hoist by fine foresight.(8:55:28 PM) Stephen: *He nods again.* Aye. I don't think, however, that the gnolls - as bright as they are - would have made any more, if the air was sufficient. Nor do I think that they would be able to do so once their air began to run out.(8:56:43 PM) darkstorme: So it's a matter of finding the vents, blocking them up, setting a blaze near the entrance that draws from the deeps as easily as it does from the open air, and then waiting a few days to see if it all fell out as planned.(8:58:00 PM) Stephen: Narrowing the entry tunnel and building the flame within would accomplish that; the trick would be keeping the dogmen from dousing it. There are a number of natural springs in the mines, though none fit to swim.(8:58:05 PM) Stephen: Swim out, leastwise.(8:59:17 PM) darkstorme: Of course, the vents would have to be reopened before any venture into the mines could tell if it were a success..(8:59:43 PM) darkstorme: And though the gnolls are hardly brilliant, I imagine they would grow wary of a team of workmen moving in to narrow the hallway for the firepit.(8:59:45 PM) Stephen: *He tugs absently on a lock of grey hair, expression deeply thoughtful.* Or mayhap simply a large enough blaze at the head of the tunnel, with a small army standing by...(9:00:25 PM) Stephen: Aye. Even if they send warriors to try putting the blaze out, so long as we kept them in the tunnels, we could continue building the flame.(9:00:38 PM) Stephen: And killing off any of the furred buggarts who approached, for that.(9:01:17 PM) darkstorme: *nods* Careful planning and organization well in advance would be necessary.. as would making certain that every available source of ventilation was well-sealed.(9:01:48 PM) Stephen: The lord should have full charts of such, on record.(9:02:51 PM) Stephen: I think mud or cement, rather than using explosives to seal them, would be the wisest course.(9:03:04 PM) darkstorme: *nods* Well, if you've need of an extra hand in this, and you think you have it planned out, do send a messenger my way... I expect it would be good sport, even if it proves unsuccessful. Remember, to draw out such air as is within the tunnels would require a fire of surpassing ferocity.(9:04:01 PM) Stephen: The nearby forests supply firewood for the city; they'll do for a great bonfire, as well.(9:04:46 PM) darkstorme: A thought occurs. A barrel of lamp oil, with a firebomb in the middle. A wick leading to the latter, drilled through the former. Light the wick, and roll the barrel down into the tunnels. It smashes on a wall, the firebomb detonates, and ignites the lamp oil. A room could be made an inferno in seconds.(9:06:06 PM) Stephen: Aye to that. For a slightly more potent flame, the mixture being one part alchemical fire, and one part oil, with mayhap a few measures of choking powder for particularly nasty measure...(9:06:40 PM) darkstorme: I don't know of the choking powder. The goal is to starve the gnolls of oxygen, not simply irritate their lungs, is this not the case?(9:07:21 PM) Stephen: Making them less-equipped to make use of the air they have can only be counted as increased effectiveness, aye?(9:07:56 PM) darkstorme: *shrugs* I doubt the efficacy of a powder in a flammable liquid, but then, I'm not as well-versed in the alchaemical arts as you, my friend.(9:09:18 PM) Stephen: I've not studied too closely the powder that's easily made from stink beetles, but if it's simply a toxin, it should have effect when burned as well, aye? If not, might not certain acids serve the same end?(9:10:03 PM) Stephen: Or a more potent substance, from more potent creatures... *He trails off, looking somewhat troubled.*(9:10:40 PM) darkstorme: *grimaces* Poisons of whatever sort tend to lose their nature when raised to too high a heat. I've spoiled more than a batch of.. such substances... in that manner.(9:11:55 PM) Stephen: Hm. I've not tried, being rather wary of the fumes, myself.(9:12:39 PM) darkstorme: *smiles thinly and brushes at his hair to let the subtle horns be seen* Part of my misbegotten birthright, I'm afraid.(9:14:03 PM) Stephen: *He smiles to his old friend, seeming to relax somewhat at the openness he so rarely sees.* I've always thought the horns, at least, looked rather noble, on you. Were it not for your eyes, I'd take you for part satyr.(9:14:41 PM) darkstorme: *chuckles a touch mischeviously* For that one, you'd have to ask Arynne, I'm afraid. *resettles his hair in its usual tangle*(9:15:10 PM) Stephen: *A thought flashes through his eyes, and his gaze wanders a moment, the old man sitting up a bit straighter.* Say... How familiar are you with the satyr clan near Vale?(9:16:41 PM) darkstorme: Hm... *scratches at a shoulder in reminiscence* One put an arrow near THROUGH me the other day... if 'tweren't for Tim, he'd likely have had me.,(9:17:23 PM) Stephen: Well, have you ever watched them after a fight they've lived through?(9:19:21 PM) darkstorme: No, in fact. Before my most recent purchases, I wasn't certain I could observe them unobserved, myself.(9:20:26 PM) Stephen: They've a custom, to ensure their wounds scar neatly... They rub the paste of a fairly hot pepper into the wound. Apart from how one pain can make another feel a bit less poignant, the peppers are a fairly strong irritant.(9:20:48 PM) darkstorme: And this serves to benefit how?(9:21:33 PM) Stephen: The irritant... How often do you cook Rilaran cuisine? Alindoran, if you prefer.(9:22:14 PM) darkstorme: Oh, in food, I can quite understand the desire. I do enjoy my food with a trifle of heat.(9:22:46 PM) Stephen: Aye to that. *The minstrel grins, leaning forward a bit.* And how often do you fry with such peppers?(9:23:25 PM) darkstorme: *shrugs* I tend not to. Most of my dishes that serve them are baked, rather than fried.(9:25:07 PM) Stephen: Ahh. *He winks.* Well, for myself, I'd heard of a recipe, during my days at the Surge, involving fried peppers of a variety found near Mariner's Hold. I procured a stock, and gave a go at cooking them... But Erag managed to drag me over to buy him another drink. When I returned...(9:25:23 PM) darkstorme: Fried to a crisp, I've no doubt.(9:26:24 PM) Stephen: The peppers were burning rather fiercely, actually; a bit of coal had popped, and made its way into the pan. In any event, I nearly let the bloody kitchen burn down for not being able to breathe as I put out the flames.(9:27:19 PM) Stephen: Whatever reagent actually causes the flavor of heat in those peppers, was dispersed by the fire, into the air.(9:28:00 PM) darkstorme: Useful too, but not as conducive to death as irritation. Though it might, i'faith, keep the gnolls away from the fire.(9:29:12 PM) Stephen: If we could distill that reagent, and burn it in your inferno-bombs... The smoke from the flames would spread even farther than the single, then-airless room.(9:30:04 PM) darkstorme: Well, I anticipate that air would be drawn into the room, rather than simply extinguishing when the air in the room is consumed.(9:30:09 PM) Stephen: Or, mayhaps in a larger space, be even more effective. They would cough and choke, unable to breathe even fresh air too well. And fresh air, they would lack.(9:30:38 PM) Stephen: A greater dispersal of the irritant, if you follow.(9:30:49 PM) darkstorme: *nods*(9:31:32 PM) Stephen: All that remains for that, then, is isolating the irritant, and producing a fair quantity of it. I'm curious as to how potent it would be in pure form.(9:34:58 PM) Stephen: *He falls silent, musing as he stares into the flames for a few moments, then gives a little nod.* From how far could those spell gems be ativated?(9:35:35 PM) darkstorme: *shrugs* For that, you'd have to ask Tim... my concern is merely activating them, not any sort of fancy in so doing.(9:36:41 PM) Stephen: Well, one would think that one wouldn't wish to stand next to a crate of them when it was invoked.(9:37:23 PM) darkstorme: OH, naturally. I think he's working on a method to activate them at range. AT the moment, he merely makes them volatile enough to trigger when another fireball is cast in their direction. And then he throws himself flat.(9:37:45 PM) Stephen: *The old man bursts into surprised laughter, shaking his head at the idea.*(9:39:13 PM) Stephen: If we could manage to detonate these devices from a considerable distance... Say, the entrance of the mines... (9:39:55 PM) darkstorme: *shrugs again* Again, you'd have to ask Tim. My level of expertise in these matters is "oh, it explodes!"(9:40:06 PM) darkstorme: That's what mages are FOR, after all.(9:40:38 PM) Stephen: *He laughs again.* Aye, aye... Though I'm certain you and I could manage an alchemical means, if need be.(9:40:58 PM) darkstorme: *nods* Some sort of wick, perhaps.(9:41:21 PM) Stephen: Something less obvious and easily defeated might be preferable.(9:42:06 PM) darkstorme: *shrugs* Set a smaller, escapable fire well ahead of the main pile. By the time they put that out, the second wick reaches the main pile, and...(9:42:32 PM) Stephen: Mayhap a waxen ball, filled with alchemical fire, and doused with acid? The acid would free the alchemical fire to ignite on the air... Though your idea has merit, as well.(9:43:04 PM) darkstorme: I wonder whether it would free it, or whether the one would denature the other. Experimentation, I suppose. And scorched fingertips.(9:43:55 PM) Stephen: I've tried combining the two, before. It doesn't work terribly well; the acid doesn't precisely burn, and only serves to dilute the alchemical fire.(9:44:26 PM) Stephen: A small enough splash, however, could wear away enough of the wax to free the fire to the air.(9:44:37 PM) darkstorme: Ah, so a waxen ball CONTAINING the volatile mixture.(9:44:43 PM) Stephen: *He nods.* Aye.(9:47:11 PM) darkstorme: *nods* Might work.(9:47:32 PM) darkstorme: Of course, glass with a wax stopper might work just as well.(9:48:12 PM) Stephen: Aye, but the glass wouldn't burn; I've an idea in mind for this device. Then again...(9:48:57 PM) Stephen: *Smiling, the old man pulls a small, cloth-bound book from a pouch at his belt, along with a charcoal woodmarker.*(9:49:27 PM) Stephen: *For a few moments, he starts to sketch out a rough plan.*(9:49:31 PM) darkstorme: *sighs, shaking his head* Always, the plans, the ideas... *chuckles*(9:49:59 PM) Stephen: //One moment, if you would.(9:57:17 PM) Stephen: // [URL]http://forums.layonara.com/photopost/showphoto.php?photo=121242[/URL](9:58:43 PM) Stephen: The keg itself would be likely of wood, but an acid-worn hole in the top is likely not too terribly troublesome for the design... The wax would be worn away in top, the fire would burn down into the bomb, which would explode, igniting the mixture about it as it flung it everywhere.(9:59:00 PM) darkstorme: Sounds rather fun.(9:59:37 PM) Stephen: This could get the trick done... And give perhaps fifteen seconds for the lads who placed it to run.
Author
Topic: Stephen's Assorted Character Notes (Read 601 times)
