((Will be at the Great Spikes camp just after the goblin caves at 5:00 PST tonight (the 17th), but will not be leaving until around 5:30PST
Looking at 5:30-8:30 tonight, tomorrow night, and Wednesday night, and whatever can be managed after that as long as necessary.
Please bring your expedition RP and remember
*Quenton sends a bird back after consulting his horible map and even worse memeory of where things are* Is that on Krashin? It sounds like the kobald cave on Krashin...
*Daniel pens a neat , but terse reply*
I shall be there equipped for a long journey.
Daniel.
Acacea, after managing to shove rope and ice spikes and other such things into her sleeves, meets her match when trying to stretch the opening around an entire keg. Why didn't I make the opening bigger? Why? I could have stored a house! she grumbles to herself, deliberately ignoring the greater difficulties that would have come with greater size.
As she considers aloud the various things that one might need for a venture into the treacherous depths where the gods conspired to break apart magical, wonderful camps of magical wonder - food, potions, footie wraps, ice climbeys for the tin cans, food, trick rope, non-trick rope - her mouth gapes and she adds "THE SUN!" with a tone of utmost urgency.
She takes off for the last person that had it.
Daniel settled into the cave, he'd been here before with Griff, Zig, and a few other dwarves, on their trek for mithril decades ago, so he made his way firstly to the cave garden to see if the corn plants would offer their bounty. Disapointingly, only a single plant had actually produced any corn, so no oil, no cherry pie. Fortunately, he'd come well stocked with an assortment of roasts fletchetted in his pack along with an assortment of waybreads, nuts, and berries. The cherries he'd saved for a pie could be eaten raw as well. He returned to the main cave find all three halfers - Jennara, Acacea, and Quenton enjoying the bear skinned rugs on the cave floor by laying full out upon the soft fur. Steel seemed happy of the garden - even boasting of enough supplies to make an ale or two. Lady Sala seemed quiet, perhaps like himself, she was more concerned with the well being of the troupe. They had faced some fearsome creatures on the way. Quenton had befriended all of the giant bears in the mountains and even surprisingly a few of the wild winter wargs once upon the ice flows. Ice Drakes of nearly every size, Frost Giants, and Gigantic elementals of ice had fought them viciously, but they had prevailed.
Daniel sat down and closed his eyes, the murmurings of halflings speaking against the backdrop of the fire crackling soon lulled him to the edge of sleep, despite the dull ache in his right knee. The slog through the flows had been murder on his old joints, but he had endured it. His last thought before the glow of his dreams overtook him was a curious one. Where would they go next? His dreams took him home on a soft lilting voice of song as a smile formed on his lips.
Acacea looked out from the mouth of the cave while the others slept, clothed only in her shabby Pretty Dress and magic, bells and ink. Jennara had spent some while carefully repairing her left footie with steady hands before herself retiring. She felt small stirrings of guilt for waiting to step out, but why should she? Jennara was not likely to stop her. The snowlands were not forgiving, but they both knew that for one of them the worst part was still to come. Making the most of last communions with the stars couldn't hurt, and even this chill wind would be missed.
It didn't help. Acacea had been so sure that with Jennara along to carry the sun, they could not fail. They would be in time. Yet the further they traveled, the more troubled her sister seemed to be, and she often gazed far away.
The banded hem of her slit skirts trailed down the steps carved into the ice behind her, but as she sang quietly to herself and to Lucinda, she noticed movement in the shadows. Jennara would be very unhappy if she were to do anything foolish, but...
Get to the bloody point?! She talks in circles, constantly. Gold save me from halfers. - and rarely is she prepared for much more than a good story. Chimes, fall back!
Ni um eczeam cugi dned, she had muttered to Jennara beneath the sounds of cave-sigh-fish-splash-plants-grow-fire-pop. He is always like that. Syrmderdca busg busg busg ed li. Constantly pick pick pick at me. Had she grown entirely feeble? Well, aren't ye the baby, Smiles? Little goblin goo goo.
Ha! Wordless melody shifted from companionship to protection without her really having made a conscious decision, and with the last prayer the runes on her skin lit in the moonlight. She met the elder drake almost politely, unable to hide, and stood waiting barefoot with her shield and torch in the snow.
*****
One breath, and then another. Still alive. She sat for a moment in churned, bloody snow, thinking that after all it had been really rather silly. Still, Steel might like some more drake steak. Closing her eyes, she tilted her head back to sing her good night to the open sky. Once the worst of the bleeding had slowed and the claw marks begun to close, she started her way back up, leaving scarlet footprints for the snow to conceal. Her Pretty Dress would just need the blood washed out of it and all would be well, again.
The first to wake find a halfling sprawled bare *** nekkid and snoring faintly beside the water, with a damp, oft-repaired dress draped over a jutting stone to dry. Perhaps she fell in the pool... some people.
((I originally misunderstood an availability message and thought that tonight was out, so I set it up for tomorrow, and now not everyone can do today. Can we stick to Wednesday? I'm happy to blame it on Acacea not feeling the camp is quite right enough to move on, yet, hehe. I'm also down to log on to just hang out pretending to fish and drink beer, which is just about the weirdest thing ever ))
KABONG!
performed by Acacea and Quenton, Week 2 of the journey.Acacea: When you're in a pinch, the answer's a cinch, KABONG!Quenton: KABONG!A: Oly-Oxen Free will answer your plea, KABONG!Halflings are bleeding, know what you're needing??Quenton: KABONG!A: Quenton ain't crying, huge brutes are flying! KABONG!A: When stuck in a rut, shoot them in the butt!Remember this word when wrath is incurred, KABONG!Have some fear! Kabong is here!As we entered the deep and the miasma of foul air grew thicker, I heard Chimes speak these words before she grew silent:Too bad Oxen Free is not here with Kabong...I find myself in agreement.
A day later we found ourselves firmly in some foul pit. We had made a short camp for some rest and food, when I noticed Quenton had run off. Before I could become overly concerned, Quenton bounded back to the area announcing he had found two dwarves! Masters Zig and Griff had been tracking us for some time and had finally managed to catch us. It seems the Gods of Light have gifted us with some Kabong!
//Another option is to do some scouting from our camp and return back to camp after we patrol. I kinda recall there being a fork in the road on the way out towards the rubies and would be interesting to see if my recollection is correct. I think both forks end up at the rubies but they take different routes.
Oi get dis taint out yet!
A mostly naked white-bearded dwarf hollars as he washes, squeezes and slaps his clothing against a smooth rock. The flickers from a nearby campfire offer glimpses of scarred flesh and other oddities.
De witch sloime be de worst of eht!
He squats down straining out dark ooze from his undergarments as he curses the Stillwaters. Satisfied with his efforts he gazes back at the newly found group he and Griff finally caught up with after tracking their not so abmiguous trail. Some he knows better than others and some he hasn't seen for ages. A slight glimmer crosses his face as the fire warms his flesh and he contemplates their future.
Quote from: "davidhoff"&cid="2759506"
((Sorry for more OOC! I'm down, just don't want to leave anyone behind Anyone that doesn't want to be up late if we're not leaving can always be doing camp prep, cleaning witch slime (hehe), recovering from traumatic injury, breathing dwarf-free air, the possibilities are endless!))
((Sorry for long posts, I have to get CD fix somewhere ))
It happened just like before, like getting turned around in deep water and forgetting which way is up - only the drowning understand. Wards were scarce but still ashimmering, and everyone was all aslosh in the stillmurk. They're right there, you'd think, how could you get lost? And then it happens to you, and you feel it, too. The dark stretching in all directions and the slow stirrings of the water masking the progress of your companions, the echoes mocking the sound of their voices. They're right up ahead, you think, after being momentarily turned around. No cause for alarm - surely that was Quenton chuckling, or a dwarf farting. Your companions are not the swirling energies of stagnant water, though, and neither are they the withered and ancient hags that catch sight of you and smile.
She'd stood still, eyes darting about. Her resolve was crumbling under the weight of oceans above and the secret certainty that they would be too late for Sanctuary, that it would succumb to the Shatterdark. Her fears relaxed a little, then, remembering this part - yes, she got turned around and left in the dark, and then Blue Eyes would appear behind her and grab her arm - so.
She waited. He did not come. It wasn't right, not how it was supposed to be. She drew the crude, heavy cloak of shadow around her on reflex, then smiled at its chaotic shimmer. Holding her shield between her knees, she tugged it down over her shoulder to inspect the neckline, and found the words flaring softly through the magic left there for her. Drana ec mekrd pareht ymm crytufc, yht ubahenkc pareht ymm fymmc.
Letting the cloak trail once more behind her in the water, she slowly turned her "torch" to look again at the words inscribed around its hammered stem. Vnus dra taabacd tyng syo ed gaab oui cyva. -Rukrym- She tugged at her ear then rubbed her thumb on the ring she wore, more solid in the dark than ever it looked in sunlight. It made the shadows her paltry light cast friendlier, helpful. They gave her sight through the dark, but still there was no one there.
Three treasures she carried, to bear her safely through the - oh, bugger. She waved the Buqui Dragon in the air, casting E's in a circle about her like a charm, then held it between her teeth (how silly! she shook her head a few times to imagine the effect of Es dripping down her chin. Nom nom nom!) and shifted her shield back on her arm with torch in hand. Four treasures she carried... no, four just wasn't right. She gnawed on the edge of the Buqui Dragon and wondered if she could find three more treasures to make it seven. Seven treasures she - no, no, it wouldn't do. Who trusts the skill of anyone with seven treasures? Three is already the result of a well blessed life. She decided the ring didn't count.
Three treasures she bore, to bear her safely through the night...
Sanctuary had seemed fine, after all. Of course it was fine, hadn't she known it really would be? Just had to make sure. For certainly. Maybe she'd had too many gritter taters at the Scamp; it was hard to decide.
After they'd returned from scouting out quite some ways away she informed the Nigh Fish of all of their latest doings, from the Leafy Dwarf's experiments in slime to particular types of mushrooms with purple hats, but they were busy being pretending to be fish, even when Quenton set about translating. It turned out that he had been a sea turtle once, quite separate from his other adventure in throwing up on a dwarf while snow zombies climbed up the sides of the ship, and she was really rather jealous. Not of throwing up, because she was Acacea Ship Sailor and never got seasick. She'd never been a sea anything, and, in fact, was forced to confess to the other halfling that though she'd begun introducing herself as Acacea Dragon-Rider decades before in anticipation (one of the first things she learned to say in elven), her plans had yet to come to fruition. Unlike SOMEBODY.
While she was extremely grateful that her sister had brought the sun her own self to help her and check on Sanctuary, and very glad that they had worked out all the business of one of them not being dead and one of them having disappeared but not of their own volition and so forth, she had definitely not forgotten that Jennara had snatched the Dragon Rider title right out from under her. Honestly, some people. It was okay, though; Jennara hadn't ridden hardly anything before, so if you've gotta pick one thing a dragon is pretty nice.
I guess we have to leave the Nigh Fish again, soon... she added with a sigh after flopping backwards, and looked from side to side. But it seems okay. Do you think? she asked with a change in tone, looking suddenly to Quenton as if anxious for a second opinion. Does it look okay, to you?
"Yeah, I think these fish are looking pretty fat and happy, here. Not so many rothes come down here and poo in the water."
She tilted her head from side to side uncertainly. Hm... but does it look okay? Her hand lifted to encompass the entire camp. Not, like... besieged by forces of evil, or anything? The fingers of one hand tugged at her earlobe, a knuckle on the other one got gnawed at, and she second guessed herself before he could answer. But maybe it is happening on the lels, and we can't SEE it being besieged... That was more like what it had felt like, after all. The scene of some ongoing ghost battle with perpetrators beyond her sight, destroying the things that she loved... worse than destroying...
"Oh yeah, I think we got that path outta here good an' bottlenecked, and with Griff or Steel on watch periodically while we sleep, we should be fine. Oh, we should have a watch on that tunnel we came through, too! I'll wake Sir Daniel for that one."
She frowned to herself, thinking about that. He couldn't tell! He didn't know what she meant. How could she make sure the Nigh Fish were okay, when they pretended to be fish in front of everyone? No, they were fine. But maybe they weren't. Maybe she could leave something behind... she would have to think about this. Later. Now was naptime. She yawned and set out a small harp beside them. When gently she strummed the strings, they rang quietly for a time after she had curled up beside the pool, singing, nothing here... nothing important... don't notice me... and those around it became as good as invisible for a time. Long enough to fall asleep.
"Well, I think this camp is pretty good; no bear skin rugs like the last one, and a bit more windy, but all in all not bad." Quenton pronounced, and she smiled to herself while closing her eyes. It is the best camp.
As the weeks blurred into one another, through labyrinthine passages and across cold subterranean lakes, the more colorful of the halflings grew increasingly cheerful at the prospect of returning to the surface. Camp Ubiquitous Glyph had been "fine," as she'd put it, or "crisis averted!" Even the skirmishes with extraplanar beings of air made for only a brief period of cloudiness. Mostly she spent her time asking questions at inconvenient times, such as in the middle of a fiercely waged battle with illithid...
Dramatic complaints return, however, with their latest campsite. Though the icy wind filling the cavern had at first been a comfort, her grimy "Pretty Dress" soon disappears in favor of the padded gear she wore through the mountains - complete with socks over her ears and scarf over her face. Her fiddle is stowed, replaced with inventive (if muffled) expressions of cold. Questions of local flora are replaced with things like, "do you think that ice things originally had different genders, but it was so cold everything sorta crawled up to die?" "Do ice dragons accidentally freeze their food all the time, or is it like an outer layer of ice so it is more of a crunchy topping?" "If a water elemental falls in the ocean, does anybody hear it? What does that tree thing mean, anyway? Honestly. Some people."
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Topic: Destination Camp Ubiquitous Glyph (Read 467 times)
