This section allows you to view all posts made by this member. Note that you can only see posts made in areas you currently have access to.
Messages - Skabot Redwolf
21
« on: June 22, 2010, 05:44:02 pm »
*Father Logan has put in many years in the service to the church of Lucinda. His views were not always popular, or well accepted. His proposal that the Lucindite church start a holy order of undead hunters was met with reproach by the general council; his volunteering to head said order met with amusement and best and was scorned by some as shameless self promotion. His continual warnings of some unforeseen threat from necromancy were initially simply scoffed at and then met with icy stares, and finally most of his peers in the clergy took to simply trying to avoid him. He has heard from friends still loyal to him that he is commonly referred to as 'the Toranite' by many of the Lucindite clergy. He considered trying to pledge to the order of Protectors of the Weave, but he feared he was too old, and possibly not pure enough of heart. And so after much reflection, Fr. Logan has decided to retire as an active member of the clergy. After his many years of faithful service, and and his steady decline in popularity, he believes his retirement will not be met with much resistance from his superiors.*
After much thought on the matter, I have decided to retire from active service in the Church of Lucinda. I believe I have reminded the faithful to be ever-vigilant to the threat of undead attack enough times that some of it must have sunk in. I have decided to spend my golden years learning music from my friend Ferros, helping tend the plants of Hempstead, and swapping tales at the Inn. I recall many fine times at the Tavern, singing telling tales, a cold ale in my hand and a warm fire at my back.
I also want to further my research into hymns of the various deities; of course, of Our Lady of Spells in particular. Ferros gave me an excellent hymnal that is cleverly bound in carved Mahogany which when tapped can give one the pitch note for the hymns it contains. I wish to learn the process of manufacturing these books, I think such books would be a boon to traveling clergy.
Finally, I am intrigued by the interaction of the Weave and song. The casting is arcane, yet they can heal... fascinating. The interaction with the Weave is almost like a divine blessing from Lucinda her self. I have formally studied magic, I wonder if I could learn to cast bardic magic? The idea fills me with a vigor that I haven't felt since I was a lad.
Father Logan
22
« on: September 10, 2009, 05:52:25 pm »
When I fall in battle, I wish to be buried with Widowmaker. I will my platinum full plate to Mangle-Or, I wish the exceptional panther cloak I wear to be returned to it's owner Grovel Foaming Wolf, and all the rest of my belongings I bequeath to my most foul-mouthed student ever, Kurn Blackwater. His cursing has brightened my autumn years. Such is my will.
Cassius
23
« on: July 21, 2009, 10:09:33 pm »
*in goblin*
As I progress as a hunter of the tribe, and a warrior, I have found myself able to strike more accurately then ever. I have also progressed in my knowledge of healing and wounds. I think that a mixing of these forms could help me to give a blow so painful it would disable a foe. I am still researching how the monks can strike with enough force to daze an opponent. I am making progress there, I have learned how to strike bare handed and not leave myself open to longer hand-held weapons. I have take a sick whelp of Fang's to care for, if he lives, I think I will name him Son of Fang. Until then, he is Whelpling. I failed trying to poison some arrows today, must seek new methods for using poison, it is too valuable to waste.
The Pack grows in power, Mangle is as stout as an oak, and Grovel can summon great magic from nature. Warsinger has written some good songs. There are new prospects for the pack also, a follower of the oak, an arcane caster, and another hunter. Feral has become a formidable fang of the pack. (note: brag more to pinkskins re. Feral) Have met a partner in my research in Fenthon. His interest in healing, which he calls medicine, and wounding, which he calls surgery, parallel my lines of research. Will keep close study of his progress.
The golden bear will dance in the embers of the fire that will consume Hlint. The Oak blesses he who killed Johann.
Long live the Warg Pack.
Long live it's chieftain, Nonac Shadow-Wolf.
24
« on: October 27, 2008, 11:59:35 pm »
saw through my greater sanctuary? dunno if it's a bug in the area or what, might want to look into that though. was Skabot Redwolf, Bioware name C.Pooser, at around 12:06 tue, oct. 28. Thanks for your attention to this matter.
25
« on: March 31, 2008, 06:29:36 pm »
*a blob-like humanoid form amid several poorly depicted quadruped forms, the humanoid form is green, the quadrupeds have long sweeping horns that stick almost straight up, the quadrupeds are brown and white spotted and black, they tower over the humanoid, in the place of the sun is a huge red demon face, with flames emitting from it*
further down the wall....
*a blob-like humanoid form stands confronted by many wavy lines, the lines look sharp like teeth, the lines are blue, the humanoid is green, the humanoid is small on the wall, and the jagged blue lines are large, from floor to ceiling in this part of the cave*
further down the wall....
*a blob-like green humanoid form stands amid vertical bands of brown with green smudges atop them, the figure is small compared to it's setting again*
further down the wall....
*a blob-like green humanoid form stand on a red field, one arm upraised, there is something brown clutched in the upraised arm, other humanoid forms litter the field prone, they are all colors, some are missing limbs, a couple have extra ones, the blob-like green humanoid form is very large in this part, the prone forms are small, there is basic face depicted on the humanoid, it has yellow eyes and a black mouth, the mouth is shaped like an 'o'*
26
« on: October 16, 2007, 06:05:45 pm »
Dear Bishop,
In the days since the village was destroyed, I have found myself with more time than things to do. Where I was once busy with the duties of caring for a parish, I now find myself with odd hours spent in morbid languor. I thank you for your offer, but i don't think I'm ready to go back to pastoral life yet, the wound is too fresh. The Temple at Spellguard has been most accommodating, the quarters I was offered were much to fine for a simple country preacher such as I. I took a cell in the monastery, it's cosy, and quiet. The Priests there have been most kind to me, but as an experienced healer, I know a bedside manner when I see one. They still consider me, not daft perhaps, but wounded. I know they talk about my choices in what I wear on my patrols to protect from the undead threat. I explain to them that as a healer I may at any moment need to rush into a mass of putrid, life-hating undead to save the life of some poor beset peasant. Then the get that look again, and pat me on the arm or something...it's all very tiring. You know the sheer numbers of innocents killed by undead every year! And even one would be too many! I try every day to understand, I grapple it with every fiber of my being; I cannot comprehend Our Lady's wisdom in this matter, why she would let the weave be used to that end....
I recall back in the village there was a midwife, not a follower of Our Lady of Spells, but of Prunilla. She baked the most wonderful pies, and had a course but fine humor to her. She knew that I taught lower form conjuring, and one day the topic of the undead came up. I even then was never quite sure how to respond when asked about that aspect of the weave. I guess I waffled, I'm sure I wasn't a very good representative of the theology of the church, but what ever I stammered out, she laughed. She gave a rich deep peasant's laugh, and she said that come hell or high water, those dead would feed the crops, so in the end they would be a good thing. I never saw her body among the dead in the village. Is that irony? I'm not sure. I sometimes daydream that she escaped, a baby under her arm, some how stealing a meaning from the slaughter. A child that would grow up to make a difference great enough that the massacre would become sense to me, that I could fathom why...
Meanwhile, I patrol, I walk the crypts, that kin may visit their dead in peace. I make potions, and give them away. The threat is everywhere. They walk beneath Krandor, and Vhel, in Storand's, and deep in the broken halls. The walk again in the woods, and still beneath the swamps. The others at the temple think I spend too much time fighting them, do they not know that the undead are tireless?
In response to this threat, I suggest an immediate formation of a corps of paladins to combat uncontrolled undead where ever they may be found. I submit my candidacy for the post of combat healer for them. I know I could not presume to guide them in matters spiritual, but She has granted me a gift in healing, and I think that in such an enterprise, which is necessary anyways, I could provide a valuable service.
In regards to the accusations that may be pending against me, the Toranites with who I have cleansed the undead from the afore mentioned areas had the self discipline to hold their tongues in regard to our differences in creed, and we certainly have made a difference to the people who live in the lands nearby. Also, Lucinda did not hold back her power when I healed them, does that not mean anything?
I am, as ever Lucinda's humble servant, please pray for me, that I may better understand her wisdom.
Father Logan
27
« on: April 05, 2007, 08:05:54 pm »
Could we get a button for downloads on the front page again? It was very convienient.
Thanks for your attention to this,
C. Pooser
|
Forums
Show Posts