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Messages - SiliconMagician
1
« on: January 05, 2019, 09:59:45 pm »
Part 1 - The Teacher is Met
Shao Ching Ling stood silently next to the fire. Carefully performing each of the 5 forms of the Mage-Kata in slow motion. Feeling the Al'Noth. Becoming one with it. Probing it's mysteries. Letting himself be taken away by it. He felt the familiar feeling of the Al'Noth in his bones, causing them to throb and vibrate slightly as he breathed out and moved to the next form. He was halfway through the form when..
"Hmph. Nice Dance boy." a nearby voice stated through the darkness of Shao's closed eyes.
Shao opened his eyes and looked to see another elf. Finely dressed in the most noble of clothes, staring back at him with a bemused expression on his face.
"Fancy dances and magic tricks will only get you so far, as in dead." The gruff elf said with surety.
"I do not understand. What do you mean by dance?" Shao asked.
The rich elf did a comically exaggerated rendition of the 3rd form and then broke into laughter at Shao, the sound annoyed him.
"Whoever taught you that didn't understand half of what is really out here. Hit me." the strange elf said with complete confidence, as if going around asking strangers to hit him was part of his perfectly normal day.
Shao hesitated, not sure that he heard correctly. Did this foppish dandy ask him to hit him?
"Hit me!" The elf commanded, harshly this time.
Shao struck out on command, his fist balled perfectly aimed according to the 2nd form and it flew out to connect with.. nothing but air! When Shao looked the elf who had been standing in one place was now several inches to the right. Shao lashed out with a foot and nearly fell over when his foot, which he was sure would contact some kind of target, struck nothing but the empty space where the elf had been standing.
The elf smirked. "A bit of advice lad. The best defense is simply not to be there in the first place."
Shao brought the power of the Al'Noth up and lashed out with a powerful spell, one designed to suck the life force from this arrogant fop and leave him exhausted and weak. The elf didn't even move. He just stood straight as Shao's palm struck him in his chest, which felt like an iron anvil in density. Shao felt the Al'Noth flow through his hand and begin to draw on the lifeforce of the impudent stranger.
With nothing more than a flinch of his breast muscle where Shao's hand was resting, the force of the spell was broken, forcing Shao back a step and then out of nowhere a knife palm struck him in his jaw, sending a prismatic spray of colors through his vision. When it cleared he was laying on the dirt next to the fire. He looked up astonished as the elf merely smirked down at him.
"You have some basic magic ability but that won't get you farther than Port Hempstead's sewers. Come with me if you want to LIVE." and with that the elf turned his back to Shao and began to walk away.
Part 2 - The Arena and A Very Big Orc
Before long, Shao found himself standing next the largest sentient beast he had ever seen. It stood 2 heads taller than he and was at least 3 times as wide as his own lithe frame. It was covered head to toe in platemail, and it's toothy jaw was fixed in arrogant bemusement. A few minutes before the nobly dressed elf had spoken to the orc out in the street, out of earshot of Shao, and then the orc smiled a toothy grin and headed for the arena. Each step clopping as loud as that of a shoed horse on cobblestone as he headed for a non descript door down a side alley.
The elf nodded his head towards the orc and bid Shao follow him. Now the giant orc and the elf(who finally made his introductions as "Glitch", though Shao believed that to be an alias) were facing each other in the arena and Glitch was taunting the giant creature with arrogant words about speed versus brawn. The orc was visibly angered by this, his pig nostrils snorting with the building rage as Glitch continued his insulting speech as if this giant beast was a petulant student who had done something wrong in class and nothing more.
The orc finally bellowed in rage and lashed out with a mailed fist. The wind whistled as the haymaker swung fast and wide, but as with Shao earlier, it touched nothing but air and left the orc off balance. Glitch lashed out with a foot and caught the orc in the chest and knocked it back with a grunt. The fight continued, Glitch passing too and fro with unbelievable speed as the orc swung or kicked and failed. The orc then tried to bearhug the untouchable elf. He grabbed hold and lifted the elf high into the air, locked in tight and squeezed with all his might.
The elf merely smiled and then boxed the orc's ears and followed it up with a chop to the throat and the Orc dropped Glitch with alacrity and backed off. Then, with motions so swift as to be nearly unseen he traced a strange symbol in the air and ended with his upturned palm facing the Orc.
Suddenly, the air was rent by a great sonic boom and the Orc was thrown from his feet completely and landed a fair distance away on the arena floor, tendrils of smoke rising from his armor. There was a grunt and a bellow, then silence as the creature lost consciousness.
Shao stood gape mouthed.
Glitch looked at Shao and smiled.
"What would you do with this kind of power Shao? Would you use it for good? Would you use it to keep order in the universe? Or would you use it for your own selfish needs? Tell me now!"
Shao could do nothing but nod, slack jawed and dazed. Glitch merely smirked.
"I will use these powers to protect others and to advance the cause of order in the world!" Shao forcefully replied. He had found the teacher to continue where his human father could not. To teach him as an elf.!
"Then we begin immediately. Now HIT ME!"
A loud "HA!" came from Shao as he lashed out towards his new master.
..and the training began.
2
« on: February 26, 2010, 09:49:18 am »
A dance script for characters who like to boogie.
Post boxes for letters to be dropped in.
New newspapers, or at least a coat for the paperboy (I call him Jimmy and give him gold sometimes). the kid's out in the elements all day trying to sell a paper from decades ago...can't he at least be warm?
Re: 12.An area of dopplegangers so you fight yorself if nobody else is on.
How bout a magic mirror in the Arena in Vehl where you can summon your apparition?
Re: 4.A stable in every town please. No more ox littering the streets.
Shiff and Andrew were shoveling ox poo out of the Hempstead craft hall yesterday. thanks to whomever let their ox drop a week's worth of grass and hay onto the floor. Delia will have your ears on a necklace if she catches you. HAHA.. Sorry about that guys.. I completely lost BodyBag and had been hunting for him for days s and then walked into the craft hall and there he was! I even asked people if they'd seen bodybag somewhere around hempstead and no one had. I knew he was in that area somewhere and I'm to cheap to pay for a tracker  TSM/Githrin
3
« on: February 17, 2010, 01:33:59 am »
At the present we are in need of half a box only. Would you be willing to sell that quantity for now, and when more arises take up a permanent contract?
Fehriel Cailomel
 I'll take what I can get.. Githrin
4
« on: February 16, 2010, 09:59:27 pm »
Esteemed Sir,
I am able to fill your ginseng order immediately. I have a full box on hand waiting for a buyer. If interested please contact..
Githrin
5
« on: February 10, 2010, 04:02:35 pm »
Githrin narrowed his eyes into the darkness of the Red Light Caverns.. his ears straining to pick up any out of place sounds. Unnatural ones. Then he heared one, a sneeze. Soft, but audible none the less.
Githrin sneered and looked back to his newest creation, an undead skeleton warrior. It stood silently and obediently at attenton. Awaiting his command. It held a great, rusty sword in its hand and battered helm upon its skull. The only possesions it had when it clawed its way out of the soft Gloomwood soil within which it had lain, maybe for centuries.
No matter.. with the undead beings help he had become a terror to the goblins of the red lights. He had taken up a temporary residence in a far dead end corridor halfway down in the complex.. and from that base he would make raids into the outlying chambers around and above him, his imp and his skeleton bodyguard his only company for days at a time.
Sunlight was fast becoming a stranger to him.. the soft, eerie red glow of the cavern was his only light source as he crawled carefully through the caverns, picking off the unwary and stupid.
Occasionally small groups of would appear.. and tiny skirmishes and pitched battles between Githrin and his deadly minions and the goblins would erupt.. the noise echoing off the cavern walls as they vainly sought to chase him from their home.
Through sheer experimental trial and error, Githrin had come up with the perfect combination of spells that would enhance his minions and make them tougher.. to take on the deadlier goblins that sometimes appeared from deeper in the complex..where he rarely dare tread.
The goblins occasionally won.. and Githrin would be forced to retreat and become invisible and escape into the darkness.. laughing as his pursuers gave up in frustration at the foe that tormented them relentlessly.
He would merely sneak back later and collect the fallen bones of his skeleton comrade and raise them again.. then together they would disappear down the corridors to wreak havoc on the next unwary goblin that happened to pass by.
Days would pass before Githrin would emerge into the sunlight for the trip to Hlint for supplies to keep him going for another several weeks, then he would disappear again..
Down in the caves.. there was no one to persecute his pursuit of knowledge of the arcane in general and the mastery of negative energy in particular. No one to falsely judge him for the use of the magics that would one day vault him to power and wealth...
For now.. he would live with the monsters. Learn from them... and become like them.
6
« on: February 03, 2010, 04:11:15 pm »
I got my first red D&D boxed set from my aunt over 20 years ago when I was 10 years old. She didn't even realize what it was at first when she bought it cause for years afterward she'd come over to the house to visit my mom and me and my buddies would be down in the basement doing our thing and she was always tellin my mom that she heard that stuff was the devil afterward and had she known she'd have never bought it for me. HAHA
Anayway I was hard core PnP until the end of high school when the group broke up and moved on althought I did play on MUD's after that until well into my 20's before those finally began dying out as well.
I owned all the D&D products ever created for the computer as well, up until about 2002 then I gave it all up and started an adult life.
It wasn't until I discovered layonara that I actually went and bought the diamond edition of NWN and got back into it. Glad I did to.
TSM
7
« on: January 23, 2010, 07:39:14 pm »
This has been very helpful. I've heard alot of different things on this class from other players..mainly that it's very looked down upon as a class and extremely difficult to get and play..
I've thought all these things through and I do apologize if I showed a light shift into evil. It's very hard to know these things sometimes, I mean lets admit it.. it's a pretty hard thing to maintain a completely neutral stance on alot of these things.
As far as the piece of my CDT regarding the meeting with the powerful man..that is indeed another PC I am referring to. When I created Githrin it was with the intention of seeking out a powerful patron..a benefactor with whom he could serve and learn from.
I contacted Ravemore about using Stygian as the patron for Githrin.. the "powerful merchant and mage" described is Stygian Achnuman and the entire scene was played RP IG just as described. To maintain the flavor of the shadiness and secretness of the deal.. I hid Stygians identity in the story.
Understand please that anything I put in my CDT at least broadly happened IG in an RP environment because Githrin is extremely RP driven from the very beginning. I learned all I could about mechanics from Ragnar.. so now I'm exploring deep RP with Githrin.. and the pale master class goes to that.
and while Gith may occasionally have the thought in his mind to hurt people, he knows full well that the consquences of his actions would mean long term imprisonment, death or worse... since we all normally have these thoughts, its not so much OOC for Githrin to think such a thing.
As with all people, it's actions that count and nowhere will you find Githrin harming anything other than the NPC monsters that anyone else would. I think that says alot about his neutrality. Even the best moraled Paladin loves to kill the monsters.. Gith just has different reasoning for it, the increase in his personal power. I know this is a subtle point but an important one, because if you notice. Gith isn't enjoying the suffering of say..the mongrelmen in the forest.. he's enjoying the exercise of his power.
When gith went with a party intoe black dog moors, he had the chance to use vampiric touch, and used it and that triggered the next CDT thread where Githrin enjoyed more the fact that he had managed to pull it off more than the creatures suffering.. it took him closer to his goal. The creation of an undead minion.
If there are any other misconceptions I can clear up please let me know. It is very difficult sometimes maintaining the lore of the land sometimes and I hate it when I fudge the lines a bit.
Thanks,
TSM
8
« on: January 23, 2010, 05:39:58 pm »
Thank milt for the timely response.. I think that this sort of thing is really to small to be a CDQ.. the effects are not even local I'd say and probably wouldn't be much mentioned except by the actual participants involved. Really I' dlike to just gather a few people together and have fun with it.
No character changes would result from this I think.. I forgot all about the PvP widget! LOL Thanks for reminding me of that!
TSM
9
« on: January 23, 2010, 12:46:49 am »
Githrin sat steaming in anger in the Harpy at Fort Vehl..
He stared at his mug of ale and cursed under his breath at the memory of the feirce fight against the gnolls of the black dog moors.
The best part of the trip was he was able to test out all of his necromantic spells in very fine ways. He had practiced diligently all of the necessary incantations and gestures, and his spells were growing in power.
The expedition was taxing, a long muddy slog through the muck of the black dog moors. The sucking mud and thick vines were as much an enemy as the foul swamp inhabitants themselves. Githrin was miserably wet and exhuasted. That was even before reaching the cave deep in the swamps that held the temple of the black dog clan.
The party dove in and there Githrin was able to cackle with glee. In the heat of battle, the party is too busy to see him using what they foolishly considered forbidden power. He would launch vicious attacks of negative energy on isolated gnolls in the caverns.. draining their lifeforce and feeling it flow into him. THIS was POWER.. he thought to himself. His face twisted into a gleeful sneer under his mask.
His favorite time came, his very last spell he saved for the perfect time..and it came. A gnoll had broken away from the main group and was chasing one of the party down, Githrin intoned the spell he had waited a very long time ot try safely.. one that simulated the effects of a vampires wicked touch.
The gnoll was so distracted by his quarry he never saw Githrin sneaking up behind him.. and it never saw the preternaturally glowing hand of Githrin as he laid his palm squarely on the beasts back.
A terrible scream erupted from the gnoll and it howled out in pain as its life force was torn from it's body and ran through Githrin like a jolt of electricity. He cackled in glee at the creature as it became visibly weaker. The power that channeled through him caught him by surprise, and he backed away. The creature, terribly weakened, was easily dispatched by the party member to its front.. and Githrin sneered that awful grin.
He was moving ever closer to his goal. The creation of his first undead minion. The thought of it pleased him immensely. He worked so hard, studied constantly. Twisted his magics in new and awful ways and slowly the understanding was beginning to dawn on him.
Soon... very soon the work his master had begun could begin again, once he learned the power of actually animating a dead corpse into a being under his control. The power behind that act would unlock research paths his mind could only now begin to imagine.
The terrible shine in his eyes at that thought caught a patrons stare, and Gith returned it with ice. The patron merely looked down at mug and that was that.
Githrin narrowed his eyes and stared at the man.. he growled under his breath, then stood and went to his room...
10
« on: January 22, 2010, 01:49:27 am »
Githrin quietly crossed the forest floor the best he could given his weak leg. The cloak that he had recently aquired from Riam for the head of the Zamin helped considerably. His leg just seemed to work a little better.
He crossed the ground slowly and steadily and peered through some bushes at the targets he was stalking this day. Treants on the dragon isles.
He had discovered that the slow moving trees made for perfect target practice for his various new spells as he discovered them. However he had to be very careful that druids or other naturist types did not discover his activities, which was why he chose the dragon isles for his practice.
He was in the act of immolating a treant in the hallowlight forest when a group of naturists happened upon him and the scene was quite tense as they quite vehemently reprimanded him for what he was doing, so he decided that the dragon isles were far enough away from most of the druidic groves that he would be able to immolate the stupid trees to his heart's content.
And he was doing so with glee and on a regular basis, and had just finished when he stumbled upon a group of ugly mongrelmen making thier way through the forest almost as quietly as he was.
He quickly intoned the invisibility incantation, and disappeared from sight as quickly and quietly as a shadow disappears in the dawn's early light. A wicked grin crossed his lips as he saw the chance to see his shelgarn dagger in action.
He quickly intoned the spells and then took a dagger from his belt.. he then enriched the dagger with a flame weapon.. and the with the flick of his wrist the blade darted through the trees and into the center of he group of ugly beasts.
They bellowed in anger and vainly sought to knock the quick and wicked little knife from the air. It hummed and crackled as it flew around their heads.. inflicted wicked cuts on the mongrelmen.. their howls of pain pleased Githrin and he cackled loudly as the blade slowly, bit by blood bit, took the group apart..when the last few bloody and exhausted mongrelmen were left.. Githrin made short work of them with a fireball.. and the creatures were incinerated instantly.. their screams echoing through the dark forest around.
Githrin merely laughed, and stepped out from his place in the trees and limped over and looted the bodies.. then he took the levitating dagger from the air around him and put it in his belt where the enchantment died out and it was once again inert and nearly harmless.
Then, with a huff and the pride of yet another good day's work done.. Githrin limped back to the dock and took the ship for Vehl.
11
« on: January 19, 2010, 08:38:15 pm »
..upon arriving Vehl, as he was limping towards the gate to the dock district to the Harpy for well earned rest. He noticed a dark figure leaning against the frame of the gate.
The man looked up as Gith was limping and past. His whisper barely audible above the noise of the street around them. "I've been watching you boy... come with me."
Githrin narrowed his eyes, and looked around for a trap. But the man's walk spoke of power and influence. Not just that, but of master of the Al' Noth as well. Githrin saw how the very air seemed to bend when he walked by. He had seen that before.. his own master had the same attribute.
Githrin limped behind the figure over behind a set of buildings near the gate..
The man identified himself as a powerful merchant, with connections all over Mistone and Dregar. Wealthy and powerful. He had a proposition for Githrin.. Join him as his assistant.
The idea was intriguing to Githrin. He knew he needed an ally, someone to help him continue his research into the deathless arts.. and here might be the man to do so.
But there would be cost.. possible death not being the least of them. It was made very clear to him that should he accept the offer, failure would probably mean the end of him..
Githrin shrugged, had he failed before, he wouldn't have been standing in front of the man having this conversation in the first place...
The man gave him a week to think it over, and an address. Within the week, if he was interested, he was to present himself to the address with nothing but the clothes on his back and what he could carry in a sack...
This was a dangerous time for Githrin... and a choice had to be made.
12
« on: January 19, 2010, 08:29:37 pm »
Githrin peered into the darkness of the Gloom Woods.. his eyes straining to pick out the moving shadows of the tyrantfog zombies as they shambled silently through the trees.
He was absolutely fascinated by the undead, and the magical power that created them. He had come to understand quite alot about negative energy and its uses recently.
As his spell skills increased, he searched high and low for new scrolls relating to anything that used negative energy as its power source. Every necromantic spell he could put his hands on he greedily copied into his spell book.
He would test his negative energy uses on the zombies of the gloom. He would summon forth Shellengard Persistant Blade, and send it after the zombies. Then, he would cast various forms of negative energy spells on them to see the effects it would have on them
The results were predicatble of course. It healed the undead. This led him to beleive that he was on the right track as far as negative energy was concerned. He pored over the few texts he had managed to retrieve on the subject of necromancy from his masters work.. perhaps with the goal of continuing it one day when he was powerful enough to control the wicked energy of the nether planes.
He sat back and thought to when he was younger, when his fascination with death and the deathless arts began. A wounded gnome had appeared out of the forest at the door of the tower one day. Githrin was about to send him away when the master appeared behind him and chastised Githrin for being inhosipitable, which came as a shock to Githrin. He had never known the master to invite a guest into the tower before.
At first the Gnome was quite relieved. He had been part of a party exploring a patch of forest in the area, when the party had been done in by a band of ogres. The gnome explained that he was the sole survivor, only because he stumbled upon the isolated tower.
The Master tended to the mans wounds, then fed him and invited him a cot to sleep on for the night. The gnome accepted his benefactors generosity and was soon asleep on the cot, probably helped by his masters magic.
When he was asleep, the master and Githrin had lifted the gnome up and carried him down to the experimentation room in the basement, and lashed him to the table.
The master spent weeks experimenting on the unfortunate gnome. He would summon various undead from ghouls to wights to worse to come and touch the gnome and record the effects on the gnome's body and mind.
It was horrific, but fascinating to see how the gnome reacted to the various touches of the various undead, then he dutifully recorded the notes his master dictated to him while he continued to watch the unfolding horror before him.
Finally, after about a month of this torture, the gnome finally died. As if such a paltry thing as dying would stop the torment. The old mage merely made an undead out of the gnome, and continued experimenting on the thing until there was little left but animated body parts.
So, here Githrin found himself in teh forest pursuing the same lines of research his master did in his youth. Reinventing the wheel perhaps but what choice did he have? It's not like his master was going to be sharing his research with him.
Finally, having learned what he could from the exchange, Githrin cast a fireball on the group of tyrantfog zombies and incinerated them and any evidence that might be of the experimentation he was performing with them.
Then smiling wickedly at good work being done for the day, limped towards Vehl, and a warm bed and hot ale...
13
« on: January 18, 2010, 02:51:43 pm »
The limping, black robed figure. Completely unaware of his silent and invisible watchman is seen outside of Fort Vehl Crypts, verbally sparring with a recently arrived dark elf over competition for a box of skeleton knuckles to be sold to a certain dark elven matron mother who was also present.
He handles himself quite well in the discussion and comes away with a deal for a scroll in trade for the box of knuckles, and a newly learned appreciation for dealing with the unsavory.
* * *
Later, He is seen leaving Vehl for Krashin, where he assists a party in dealing with a nasty band of cave living kobolds. His spell skills, while paltry to anyone of power, show promise. He is obviously learning quickly.
***
He is then seen in Hempstead getting laughed at by one of the locals, she eventually skips away grinning and calling him "Limpy".
He growls under his breath and limps to the bench to sit and rest after the long walk from Leringard.
14
« on: January 17, 2010, 02:57:37 pm »
Githrin limped into the front gate of Ft. Vehl exhausted, hungry, and wearing rags for clothes.
He had hobbled all night through the forests of Mistone and had arrived just as the orb was rising over the eastern horizon. He climbed the wall of Ft. Vehl and looked out over the landscape, and just picked out the rising column of smoke that represented his former masters tower. No doubt, there was little to nothing left of it now but a charred ruin.
He smiled again, or rather, the twisted sneer that was all he could manage for a smile. The old man was dead and gone, a victim of his own hubris. Of course the fact the Githrin had been responsible for his master's death in a rather direct way held no weight with him at all. The man was a bully to him, and all bullies would suffer the same fate eventually.
He hated them, the perfect people with their perfect strides and unscarred faces. He hated them because they stared at his ravaged body as if he was a freak of nature, unable to exist in the prime material plane. People went out of thier way to avoid him and he rather preferred it that way.
He hobbled down the street and kicked a drunk out of the way as he limped into the sundries merchants. There he purchased a few minor spell components and a brand new black robe and balaclava hood to cover his twisted features.
He liked the mask, it hid him and his thoughts from the outside world. It hid the sheer hate on his face when people looked at him limping down the road with pity.. they called him a cripple and felt sorry for him.
But he was no cripple! His body was weak but his mind was a steel trap and he was always considering his next move carefully. At first he had been confused as he wandered the streets of Vehl. He had been there many times on errands for his master, but his master had cast powerful illusion magics that hid his twisted features to the casual observer.
Without those magics now, the world saw him for what he was. A twisted little hobbling beast of a man. A horror to be shunned, or even better, hounded out of the town.
Ft. Vehl was home to many such outcasts so the merchants and guard noticed him no more than the various vagrants that lay about the gutters getting beaten or robbed on occasion by wandering bands of youths.
Such a band had attempted to make sport of Githrin, until he tore off his hood and stared at the youths with his twisted, evil looking face. They hesitated, then he intoned a jolt cantrip and let the electricity dance around his fingertips. The boys thought this monster far to much for them and made a hasty retreat into an alley to find easier prey. Githrin merely cackled at them as they ran away.
Power.. Power was what he needed. His master had power indeed. But Githrin knew that a lifetime of hard study was what gave the old man his power. So much power that he showed little fear when the evil extra planar being pulled ittself out of a glowing hole in the floor. Lot of good that power did when the beast grabbed hold of the old man.
Githrin smile/sneered when the vision of the look on that evil old mans face, as the beasts claws penetrated his skin, entered his mind. A look of fear.. of knowing his own apprentice had done him in. Githrin also thought he saw a bit of.. admiration in the old mans eyes?
Githrin shrugged.. He didn't care one way or another how his master felt. Githrin had ridded himself of a cruel taskmaster, and he was glad for it.
He realized however, that with his disabilities, and weak frame. He was going to need a powerful ally indeed if was going to survive and reach the pinnacle of his own unrealized power.
He knew what he was looking for.. he had met many mages in his lifetime with the old man. Most of them dithering old men with soft, complacent attitudes. Others, were twisted by their own magics into crazed loons. The idea of apprenticing himself to such men sickened his stomach. These men would never help him realize his true potential in the art of twisting the Al' Noth.
He knew the cruelties that a firm master can inflict on an apprentice, but knew that such discipline was necessary to mold and strengthen a mage's mind so it can handle the knowledge, not all of it a person should or would want to know.
So a firm hand he would accept, but an overly cruel one he would not. He was not a servant or a slave. He was a student, and as such knew that while the threat of a head masters whip was always present, the actual use of such a thing should be rare indeed. He had felt the sting of the lash to many times to accept otherwise.
So he limped out of Vehl and headed towards Hempstead. A group of people having a conversation just outside the gate saw him, and quickly moved out of his way as he limped past looks of concern on their faces.
They should be concerned, Githrin thought. For once he found the right master.. and he learned teh ways of the Al'Noth and grew powerful.. those very beings would cower down before him for his forbearance and mercy.
Mercy..the idea of a supplicant getting down before him and begging for mercy pleased him. He thought that he might grant it, should the creature look pathetic enough. AFter all tis always better to leave at least one survivor to tell the tale.
With these thoughts in his mind he limped his way towards Hempstead, and his awaiting destiny...
15
« on: January 09, 2010, 04:36:12 pm »
The world slowly came back to Ragnar Ogresbane.
At first, it was sound.. he heard the soft chants of the clergy. Then came his sense of smell.. he smelled the pungent aroma of incense burning. Finally his eyes fluttered open.. and he was staring at the ceiling of the temple in Ft. Llast.
He lifted his head and looked at his body, it was badly bruised and had been expertly stitched in several spots.. new scars to join the old ones he'd already collected in his journeys around Mistone.
He hurt everywhere and he laid his head back down and tried to make sense of things. His mind felt numb.. sluggish. Then, after a few moments of concentrating it cleared and the memories roared back into his brain as if dumped from a bucket directly into his head.
His last memories were standing in the hallway just in front of the goblin chiefs lair in the red lights.. the party he was with standing several paces behind debating on what to do.
They had fought a vicious, grinding battle to the bottom of the caves again. Their second attempt to breach the extremely cunning defenses laid out for them by the goblins in an attempt to keep them from finding out just what it was they were doing down there and putting a stop to it.
He had spent days collecting and distilling the bellies of beetles for the making of powerful fire bombs.. the coal for which had cost the lives of two brave souls to attain. Just so he could have the proper weaponry to break down the barricades.
The process was grinding.. thankfully he had the faithful services of Tuggin Sunnytoes.. a man of great talents when it came to scouting and trap finding and disarmament..without his skills the party would have been lost long ago to the never ending series of vicious booby traps that awaited them.
The party would come upon the wooden barricades.. Ragnar, well equipped with fire bombs and choking powder would douse the area in powder.. wait as the goblins began choking on the foul herbal mixtures then toss a firebomb onto the barricades and watch them burn to ash in moments.. then the party charged.
The fighting was hand to hand and vicious.. little Frieda, brave little freida.. no taller than Ragnar's knee would dart in and take the goblins on with a ferocity even he would have a hard time mustering in that dark place of death. Hacking and slashing, the indomitable Hanta Deshaldi.. with her mighty sword hacked the goblins limb from limb.
The goblin archers and mages hurled their vine spells at the party, often trapping them in the tightest locations and then lightning, fireballs and burning bottles of fire would drop down onto the party. The fight would be over in seconds.. with goblins laying around in piles and the party collapsing back to hold up and try to staunch the flow of blood from their numerous wounds. The cave floors were slick with the mixed blood of hero and enemy alike.. Each determined the crush the other's plans or die trying.
The party cleared each barricade as they came to it in the same manner.. progress was slow but was being made. Slowly, ever so slowly..the healing bandages and potions began to run low. Each battle nearly costing of the life of everyone involved, so determined to hold their ground were the goblins.
Now they stood at the very bottom.. in the hall leading to the cheiftans chambers.. Mr. Sunnytoes made a foray into the room, and explained what he saw and the party was incredulous. The goblins had indeed been busy.. crates and crates were stacked inside the lair of the chief, what they contained was unknown.. but it was surmised that whatever was in them was most likely flammable and would burn readily with the use of bomb.
The goblins milled around inside the room, but seemed oblivious to the party so busy were they stacking the various crates and boxes. The plan was set.. Ragnar would sneak to the doorway and toss in a few choking powders, then a firebomb and the party would fall back and take up positions in teh hallway around the corner.. hopefully shielded from whatever blast came back out into the hallway.
Ragnar moved slowly up the hall way about half way..plenty close enough for has massive arm to chuck the pouches of powder well into the room. Suddenly, a he stepped into a hole and stumbled.. his heart froze in terror.. He heard something in goblin and the first guard came to the door and looked directly at him and snarled.
Ragnar threw two pouches of choking powder into the room in that instant, they went off and filled most of the chamber with the green hazy dust.. and the mages and archers within began choking.. but the elites were lucky.. they had ran for the door just moments before and had avoided most of the choking powder..
As Ragnar reached into his pouch for the firebomb.. the goblins poured out of the door and he had no time.. He drew his sword.. and charged into the doorway in a desperate attempt to block it with his own body. The goblins charged home and he was knocked back by teh sheer mass of goblin flesh pushing against his shield.. blades licked out and cut at his legs opening up huge wounds in his calves..
He hacked down on teh beasts and took a couple out quickly but the rush was too much and he was forced to step back from the flurry of blades that were coming to him..he back up again and swung.. another goblin down..then he looked to his right and Little Freida screaming atthe top of her lungs, followed by hanta and the rest of the party came to the battle.. it was to late however. The goblins poured out of the doorway and rolled over the party..
Freida fell first, her body ran thru by at least 2 or 3 goblins.. Hanta next.. Ragnar was fighting 4 goblins himself and they wer pushing him back and they rolled right over anyone else in thier way..the light armor no match against the the iron short swords the beasts carried.
Ragnar stepped back and swung again.. he cleaved a goblin in two and still more were upon him.. his last vision was mr. sunnytoes collpasing under a sea of green skin..blades flashing up and down, up and down as he disappeared into them.
Then he was struck with a tremendous blow that knocked the wind from him and he fell under the sea of goblins.. their glowing eyes and wicked teeth grinning as they took down the last of the intruders who had dared enter their home.
But how had he ended up here? In this temple? He looked over to the priest who had come into the room and who now looked at him with a soft smile. "Hello sir.. he stated. "You've come back to the living world I see.", the priest stepped forward and checked the stitches and bandages and quite satisfied looked at Ragnar with deep blue eyes.
"How?" was all Ragnar could croak out.
The priest looked at him. "I'm not exactly sure my son.. a group of men brought you and your companions in.. they are quite safe. Resting in other rooms at the moment. You however.. were so badly off in body that we had to take drastic measures to place your soul back into it.", the priest softly said with wonder..
"They said they found your bodies tossed along the side of the road rather unceremoniously near the red light caverns. We had heard word of the goblin uprising and thought that you all might be the victims of it, and such brave souls deserve another chance.", the priest explained.
Ragnar simply dropped his head again and stared at the ceiling and sighed. Defeat... that word kept rolling through his mind like the tsunami that rolled through Hempstead.. Defeat.. not once..but twice.
Ragnar wasn't a man accustomed to defeat.. he had faced undead so terrible a man's soul shrivels at the mere sight of it. Hordes of Ogres and giants had fallen to his blade... but a group of paltry goblins had done him in.
Defeat..
Ragnar slowly sat up.. and ignored the priests protestations that he stay and rest.. Ragnar could not rest.. there was work to be done..first he would check on his companions.
Then.. he would plan. There would be no defeat this time he swore...
16
« on: January 07, 2010, 01:43:34 am »
*Holds up a hand to the crowd of citizens gathered outside the Wild Surge Inn. Wild speculation ensues about the barricading of the red light caves, rumors of invasion from the caves are running rampant*
"Citizens! Citizens! Listen to me a moment! I know you are frightened! But listen to me I was there!", Ragnar pleaded to the spooked crowd. They hushed after a few minutes and stared at him, and he cleared his throat. He stood on the stairs to the entrance of the Inn.. the town crier looking quite worried next to him.
"I was with the party that was ambushed down into those caves! I have seen the works that they have thrown up! Listen now and understand! The goblins have erected heavy defenses within their caves! For what purpose we do not know, but they have thrown up barricades and traps of diabolical trickery not usually credited to the beasts.", he spoke clearly so that those in the back could hear.
"The barricades seem purely defensive in nature! I did not see preparations for an assault on the town at this time. But we could not get to the deepest reaches of the cave to investigate what it is exactly that they are protecting. We suffered heavy casualties down there and were forced to retreat to the surface to regroup.", Ragnar continued.
"I implore you that word be sent, so that reinforcements can be brought to bear in Hlint for the purpose of discovering the final plans of these creatures and putting an end to them! Avoid the cave entrance for fear of your lives! Adventurers such as I will keep the roads themselves clear but move swiftly along the roads! Let word be sent to the caravan masters that they must not dawdle on the roads!", he cried out to the crowd now gathering larger becasue of the spectacle.
"There is foul work being done in the bottom of that cave, and rest assured that brave folk from all over Mistone and elsewhere will come to your aid! Hlint is home to many of brave hearted souls.. and is dear to the hearts of many! It is the heart of Mistone in many ways.. and will be protected! You have my solemn word on that!"
With that Ragnar turns and steps into the door of the Inn for a much needed rest...
17
« on: November 28, 2009, 03:12:50 pm »
Good sir, your offer for 2 boxes of knuckles seems fair. I will deliver them to you promptly and give notice when boxes are available, any change in contract please post if already received wanted product.
Ragnar Ogresbane, Wanderer of Mistone
18
« on: November 20, 2009, 10:15:33 am »
Hi all.. I realize that I'm like a complete noob to the server, and have only 1 lousy 8th level fighter. I know that I've seen not even a 10th of the layonara world. But I would just like to say one thing after reading this entire thread.
I don't play RPG's. Not since my pen and paper/MUD days years ago. NWN was teh first one I'd bought and played and thats only because I trust and know the old d20 system thats been a mainstay of gaming since I got my first D&D boxed set when I was 10(I'm now 33).
I found this place by accident looking for single player mods and decided that it really looked like something I might sink my teeth into. I've come to enjoy my time on Layonara. I've met some of the BEST role players, nicest GM's, and I've really been on some great adventures with my character.
I've never been into magic using characters. The old hack and slash warrior of the ancient days was always my bread and butter and I enjoy it.
I might be mistaken, but it seems to me that there is an undercurrent among the playerbase(at least in this thread) that if you want to see your fighter character advance into superhigh levels and be able to explore solo.. you MUST be some kind of grinder/power player trying to ruin it for everyone.
I have a long way to go before Ragnar reaches anything near those levels.. right now I have plenty of places I can go solo around and build my player's skills up, but if I get to 20th level or above and that starts to fizzle, places where a 20th level fighter or above can go and receive decent experience in times when a group might not be available all the time start to dry up. I can see where this would be frustrating to a few people.
If there are indeed areas that high level mages can solo, (and apparently there are or this thread wouldn't have started) wouldn't it seem proper that there be at least a few areas where high level fighter types are able to solo?
Solo players are not all pariahs trying to destroy the world.. some of us might just want to whittle away an hour or so before or after work and don't want to always jump into a long drawn out RP trek that will take 4-6 hours to complete, and spend the rest of the time crafting.
This is one of the closest watched and maintained game worlds I've seen. The GM's work really really hard to ensure that all the players have a good time, promote grouping, etc.. but as much as RP and groups are the focus.. its not possible all the time to have a group available and there SHOULD be at least a few places for high level solo fighters to go and have a reasonable expectation of making it out in one piece, while gaining significant experience for the task.
Is it really to much to ask there be certain areas that a fighter of high level can gain 3-5000 points per cycle through an area? The sewers, the vehl crypts, the roadside beasties close to hempstead and other areas.. these are all the places for the low level charcters such as myself.. which is really great.
But these areas will become moot to my character before to long. Already ogres, which put up a huge fight, but only give 48 experence to me are not worth the trouble of attacking.
Such areas could be dead magic zones, to prevent mages from exploiting them.. the beasties could scale from a minimum level range to keep out low level/noob grinders that would come and abuse them. Keep such areas FAR apart.. say one on the northern adn southern ends of mistone for example, where there are no convienient portals. This would force fighter types, should they want to solo, to take LONG TREKS just to get the areas involved, having to cross the continent. This will keep them to the roads where they will run into people, and encourage them to RP adn join up(its always more fun to group than solo IMO)
I completely understand that this server is geared towards high RP/group interactions and that is wonderful.. but just lumping all solo players into the powerplayer/grinder type seems like throwing the baby out with the bathwater.
Just my take on the whole thing.. please forgive my newbish interference.
SM
19
« on: November 18, 2009, 12:34:03 am »
"I 'eard there be an expedition formin on the docks, what they might be expeditin fer I have no clue", said the guard standing watch at the gate to Ft. Vehl. He was a large man, and looked quite capable of cleaving a man in two without the slightest provocation.
Ragnar had no intention of provoking the large man, instead.. he pressed several true into the mans palm and thanked him, then proceeded through the gate and headed towards the dock district.
The smells of the city stung his nose, this city was a bit dirtier than hempstead, for sure. The destitute and poor were laying in the gutters, and fighting over scraps of food thrown out the windows with the chamberpots from those more fortunate souls above.
Ragnar pushed past the throng and entered the gates to the dock district. Immediately upon passing the gate he spied the unusual profile of a dwarf. Ragnar had met only a very few of the stocky folk in his time on Mistone, and he was curious as the man was powerfully built and carried a massive axe over his shoulder. His beard was the longest Ragnar had seen on the squat little people, and this assured him that THIS dwarf, was up to something.
"Excuse me master dwarf", Ragnar said..
"Aye?" the dwarfs beady eyes peaked out from behind the nose protector of his large war helm.
"I understand that there is to be an expedition forming. I'm looking for information about it.", Ragnar stated briefly, looking down and believing that this particular dwarf could handle himself well in a fight.
The dwarf apparently wasn't so sure about Ragnar, he studied his tarnished copper armor, and the odd mismatched white and crimson helmet, elvish style no doubt, on Ragnars head. It was when his eyes fell on the fine, custom made iron sword Ragnar had over his shoulder that a measure of respect crossed the old vets features. Such weapons were not merely given away, but earned by deeds. Especially by such a young buck as the one that stood in front of him.
"Perhaps lad, but before we go ye best be understandin where we goin. There be certain resources that are needed in Hempstead and we aim to collect them, but where WE goin ain't no walk in the park. It be DREGAR, we headin to.. dangerous place for one such as yeself", the old dwarf spoke from behind his bushy beard.
Dregar? Ragnar had heard much mention of the place. Filled with mythical beasts of immense size that would kill a man in mere seconds. A place to be feared, and not trod lightly by the inexperienced. Even his young pride knew that this was indeed a dangerous undertaking.
Ragnar agreed with the short little fellow and without a word the guy bounded off down the road, leaving Ragnar shocked at the speed the little dwarf could muster.
Ragnar followed as best he could, trying ot keep up with the dwarf in the taller crowd. He disappeared into a door of a house and motioned Ragnar inside, he stepped in and was greeted by the eerie yellow light of a magical portal in the floor.
The dwarf pinched his nose closed, winked once at Ragnar, and jumped into the center of the portal. With a whoosh and a pop, and the sparkle of glittering dust he was gone. POOF! Just like that..
Ragnar shrugged, closed his eyes and stepped into the void..
Quite suddenly he was standing inside a large courtyard between two massive walls, surrounded by a group of diverse persons.
Several men and women in various attire, and various weaponry. Magical backup was provided by a mage as well and this party of adventurers looked truly ready for what was about to happen, if only Ragnar truly understood what was about to happen.
The veteran adventurers smirked at Ragnar's pauper armor, and odd, mismatched elvish helm. The doubt in their faces was evidently plain and they wondered why such a greenhorn as he was even thinking about joining them into the wilds of Dregar.
Ragnar shrugged, "High Risk, High Reward!" was all he could say.
The rest of the party just shrugged and moved out of the city gates. After several hours of trudging along the roads the guide, a small halfling.. took the party off the trail and led them into a thickening woods.
They came to a clearing a few minutes walk back into the trees and Ragnar stopped suddenly. Odd, was the ground shaking? He looked around and noticed the birds a few hundred feet away flapped away wildly in a flock and then an explosion of tree branches, and a hugh humanoid hulking beast came bounding towards the party.
It growled menacingly and held a huge war axe in its hand. The party sprang into action, the 3 warriors of the group, swords drawn and a glow with mage fire, frost and various enchantment hollered war cries and plunged down onto the creature.
The battle was chaotic, but fast. The beast falling in a matter of moments to the skilled adventurer's blades. Afterward, adrenaline coursing through his veins, Ragnar commented on never seeing such a creature before.
One of the party merely chuckled and replied that he was only the beginning and far worse was to come.
Ragnar gulped and nodded, then followed the party deeper into the woods.
The party had been right. Ragnar soon found himself deep in a wood, standing shoulder to shoulder with 4 other adventures, holding back an equal number of lumbering giants. The creatures would slash wildly, howling and bellowing and spitting with rage, the skilled warriors worked together as one. Chopping each giant down like a group of skilled woodsman dropping an ancient oak.
The fight continued through the woods and intensified as the party burst into a camp of at least a half dozen of the creatures. The chaos that ensued around the fires of the camp was astounding and all Ragnar could remember was the blur of combat. A dodged slash here, a quick parry there. Hacking at the giant creatures legs, taking huge chunks out of them, trying ot drop them to the ground for the coup de grace.
Ragnar, already exhausted from the ordeal of just getting to the woods commented wryly on the situation. The seasoned warriors around him, now seeing that he was just as willing as they to face down the beasts.. showed a trifle bit of respect in thier tones and chuckled. Stating that worse yet lay ahead.
"Worse?" Ragnar asked. But got no reply.
The party hiked to a sheer cliff with steps dug into the side of it that led down to a giant cave opening. The halfling scout was first in, and disappeared into the mouth, but not before showing her bright white teeth in a flashing grin showing from beneath the cowl of her cloak.
The party followed a few moments later...
20
« on: February 23, 2010, 01:50:04 pm »
Those of you who may have traveled with my chars Gith or Ragnar before know that they were notorious for being so slow on transitions, and being slow and clumsy in battle.
Well no more! Before I was running NWN and layonara on a 750mhz PIII.. yes thats right.. a PIII at 750 mhz!
Now I am on a brand new 2.8 ghz dell system I picked up today.. so I wanted everyone to know who travels with Gith and Ragnar regularly that I will no longer be holding the group up.
I appreciate the patience shown by the players who often took Gith or Ragnar with them..knowing that they were liability characters.. and I hope that it didn't cause to much aggravation.
i'm looking forward to running NWN and layonara the way it was meant to.. and taking part in further adventures without slowing the rest of the group down.
TSM
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