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Thread: D&D Snippets

  1. - Top - End - #121
    Ogre in the Playground
     
    BardGirl

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    Default Re: D&D Snippets

    Quote Originally Posted by Machuchang View Post
    That is a really amazing idea. I've gotta start doing that!
    Made even more amusing by the fact that my character is a bard

    I am and always have been a compulsive note-taker. I struggled to stay awake during lectures at uni, so I would compulsively write down everything the lecturer said in an effort to stay awake (stupid overly-warm lecture theatres). It's stuck with me

    Probably frustrates the group, because it'll get to my turn, and I'm going "wait wait, I'm not ready yet!" trying to write and play at the same time is hard, but it pays off in the long run. DM is constantly going through my notes to refresh his memory

  2. - Top - End - #122
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    Machuchang, welcome to the thread! And I liked your story a lot. It was well-written, the only obvious criticism I could find has already been pointed out.

    I should mention that I couldn't see the end coming - somehow I got the impression that the BBEG was active before your paladin parted ways with his friend, and a paladin's Detect Evil pretty much saves him from bad character judgement (usually. Sometimes. Give me a break here. :) ). Accidentally: upon re-reading, it reads fine, and nothing implies such a conclusion, except the Deathwind's teasing after the name was dropped. But for me it did come as a surprise, so that was fun, and... Way to leave on a cliffhanger! Will there be more?

    Lady Moreta: ooh, note-keeper! Kudos from someone that once got a almost a megabyte of pure text in .txt format from her game. But I don't write such detailed notes anymore: that one took too much out of me. I prefer snippets these days. :)

    As for my own work, well - I didn't finish the funny segment, because we had a game last night. It should be noted that in this campaign we take turns to run adventures - the first one to run was the paladin's player (who wanted a "one-shot to get acquainted with the classic system," but made such a fun game that we decided to continue), the second one was the warlock's player (if you see my snippets getting anime, you'll know the scene was from his adventure), and now it's my turn, with the favored soul's turn coming up rapidly. So this is from yesterday's game, and I hereby ask my players, should they come across this thread, not to look at it until next time. After all, though you may suspect where your wizard has disappeared, you do not truly know yet, and I wrote this to figure out what was happening in the background while you fought. And the rest of you, please put any particular plot comments in spoilers. :)

    Dragons, Illusions, Sphinx
    or
    How could half the group have failed a will save that low?!

    Spoiler
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    As we walk back from our meeting with the dragon, I cannot help but keep looking back, just in case. A blue, obviously. Evil. An illusionist, good enough to hide herself from Fai and Jelita. Vain enough to create an illusion of herself - if it was a she, and it was not just fooling with us? - but too careful to show. And my friends were never the definition of careful planning. They'd insulted her, hoping to draw her out through draconic pride, and all she did was laugh at us.

    This does not bode well. No dragon forgets an insult. Ever.

    And I'd rather face a dragon who would attack immediately than one whose revenge is best served cold.

    As I look back, Jelita squints and says, "Hey, what's that up there?"

    And truly, four forms - smaller than the dragon, far larger than any of us - have flown out of the forest and are making a beeline for us. They look like huge wolves, and yet winged. An intelligent formation - no line, and even a fireball would only get two.

    Ah, I've read about those. Canisphinx.

    Don't they hunt alone? And only in pairs when mating?

    And do dragons not drive sphinx from their territories?

    "A test." Cypher smirks grimly.

    "Looks that way." I say quietly. "They can paralyze with their howl. Be on your guard."

    "I've spent most of my power to remove such effects." Katarina replies. "We shall rely on healing."

    "Very well."

    What else can they do? Instill fear? Most unlikely, not with a paladin by our side. Ah, yes. They drain strength when howling. Good thing not all of us rely on strength, then.

    And then their leader howls, a haunting dirge. I have only time to see Fai's face contort in fear, as the warlock leaps into the air - for then the howl rises to a crescendo and fills my own soul with terror.

    I must get out of here!

    Somehow I do not fumble the arcane gestures, and appear almost a mile from the fight. Not far enough! More gestures, more words, and I am quick to run, and dodge between the trees, only to get away from that place, faster, faster!..

    And then I come to my senses. Where am I? Damn! I - what direction did I even jump in? I try to get my bearings, and rise above the trees in flight.

    And then a huge paw slams me into the ground, face down. All I can see are blue scales and claws.

    "Caught you." That same female voice says, no longer in Common, but in Draconic. "I should think I did well not to show myself to your group. Not that our little chat went well, but had you been running like the cowards you are, there would have been no chat to speak of."

    And all I can think is: I've used up my power to jump dimensions. I'm dead.

    "Do you even speak the true tongue, mageling? You had better, for if you do not, I shall tear you limb from limb here and now."

    "A-as if thh-at is n-not your plan regardless." I answer in Draconic. My voice shakes, betraying my fear. Damn again, do I at least not get to die with dignity?!

    "Possibly not, mageling. Possibly not." I can almost see her smirk. "Tell me, little one, do your friends value your life?"

    "H-how did you know my profession?"

    "Simple." She laughs. "I've had ample time to study you while you were making fools of yourselves. Your little bat - careful in its hiding, but not careful enough - is very much a giveaway."

    I can feel Taali's shame from the extradimensional pocket he must have peered out of back then.

    "Do not worry." I say to him. And then to the dragon: "Y-you had taken m-me bec-cause I'd split furthest from the group?"

    "Correct."

    "My cal-ling makes no difference, then."

    "Correct again. Though I do believe I shall have a use for your familiar. And, little bat, though I've no time to waste catching flies, be foolish - and I shall crush your master."

    "I am listening," Taali says. I translate.

    "First, answer me, mageling - do your friends value your life? What would they do to preserve you?"

    "I... You p-plan to.. To blackmail them?"

    "Quite obvious, is it not?"

    I'm dead.

    "It will not work, dragon." I say, and I think it can hear the resignation in my voice. "It simply will not work."

    "You are so worthless, mageling?" Her claws squeeze tighter around me. "I can believe it, if you are so fearful. What is it you do for them, protect them from the sun and wind? Was there no one better to do it than you?"

    "What I do is... Irrelevant. What is relevant is that they do not submit to blackmail. That is a matter of principle, dragon. No matter what kind of power they are faced with. They will die rather than submit."

    The dragon laughs with almost-palpable glee. "They will not die, mageling. If they prove useless to me, you will die, and I shall fling your head to them, and fly off merrily. Comb the desert if you will!"

    Here it would be appropriate to proudly spout something like, "And then we shall hunt you to the ends of the Earth," but that would make her even more eager to get to the good part of the game. So I say, "They will not do evil. Not for my sake. Not for anyone's sake."

    "So they will not kill for you?" The dragon says condescendingly. "Lucky you are, then, that I do not require killing. Nor even a particularly evil act."

    "What is it you want, then?"

    "Ah, that I shall reveal to all of you. Batling, I see they have scared off the remaining canisphinx. Go and call them here. Tell them that they may heal themselves before coming. I do not want to get too hungry from smelling their blood."
    There are thousands of good reasons magic doesn't rule the world. They're called mages. - Slightly misquoted Pratchett

  3. - Top - End - #123
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    Quote Originally Posted by Werekat View Post
    Machuchang, welcome to the thread! And I liked your story a lot. It was well-written, the only obvious criticism I could find has already been pointed out.
    I'm really glad that you enjoyed it! Thank you.

    Quote Originally Posted by Werekat View Post
    I should mention that I couldn't see the end coming - somehow I got the impression that the BBEG was active before your paladin parted ways with his friend, and a paladin's Detect Evil pretty much saves him from bad character judgement (usually. Sometimes. Give me a break here. :) ).
    Well, that's the thing. The Deathwind WAS active before Varen lost his friend. My DM's pretty crafty, but he promised that the next time we game, he'll reveal how that twist came to be.

    Quote Originally Posted by Werekat View Post
    Accidentally: upon re-reading, it reads fine, and nothing implies such a conclusion, except the Deathwind's teasing after the name was dropped. But for me it did come as a surprise, so that was fun, and... Way to leave on a cliffhanger! Will there be more?
    Yeah, that reveal came as a total surprise to me too (during the game, that is). And I don't know when the next session for this campaign is going to be, so this cliffhanger may have to hold us for a little bit.

    However, I still remember a lot of the previous sessions, so I'll probably post some snippets of those soon, definitely starting with the first session. Hopefully, that will help to give my snippet a little bit more context.


    As for your story, I really loved it! Especially this part:

    Spoiler
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    Quote Originally Posted by Werekat View Post
    "Ah, that I shall reveal to all of you. Batling, I see they have scared off the remaining canisphinx. Go and call them here. Tell them that they may heal themselves before coming. I do not want to get too hungry from smelling their blood."
    That dragon is just too cool! I love how you managed to sum up its haughty, self-assured, and indisputably evil personality with just that last phrase. I love it!


    Though I do have just one little thing to nitpick:

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    Quote Originally Posted by Werekat View Post
    and it was not just fooling with us?
    This part is a little bit confusing to read. It might be better phrased as: "and if it was not just fooling with us". Also, I don't think the question mark is necessary, since that phrase isn't really a question. But really, great work all around!

  4. - Top - End - #124
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    While A Death in the Family is in progress, here's something a little more light-hearted, told from the viewpoint of my Vendel "doctor."

    Frederik's First Surgery
    Or, I Can't Believe He Survived!
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    I looked off of the aft deck towards the small island, called Teramunde by the natives and That Theus-forsaken rock out in the middle of friggin' NOWHERE by civilized people. We'd been here for several days now, anchored at the edge of the world while our passengers did...something...on the island. Not that I'd complained, mind you. Although I was no closer to finding my former business partner, I was rather far away from my other former business partner, and until I found the former I was absolutely fine avoiding the latter.

    The island was scenic, in a nostalgic way. It reminded me of my cousin's island, before I acquired the deed and sold it to the Montaigne. Now, where there was untamed nature lay row upon row of tilled land, a mine or two, and of course several Montaigne garrisons to keep those pesky Vesten savages from taking back "their" land. A pity my cousin didn't understand. There were no harsh feelings, of course. It was merely good business, but Arjenson insisted on taking it as a personal affront. Something about selling the soul of our ancestors... I don't know, it didn't seem important so I wasn't paying attention. This island, however, lacked the bountiful resources required of a trading partner. Perhaps a resort for the wealthy? Yes, I could see it now; the top of the mountain would be a lovely retreat, surrounded by nature without any of the inconveniences.

    rumblerumblerumblerumble

    Hmm. Or perhaps not. I straightened my glasses, then said "Pardon me, mon Capitan but, uh, as you may have noticed, the island is now shooting up thick coloumns of foul smoke. Either there is a tremendous fire at the top, or there is about to be a tremendous fire everywhere. May we commence with sailing the hell away?"

    The bald Castillian man at my side spat overboard without taking his eye from the spyglass. "First, senor Luccassen, you call me mon Capitan again an' I'll keelhaul you. Second, no, not yet."

    "May I ask when, mon Capitan?"

    He snorted thoughtfully. "First, senor Luccassen, you call me mon Capitan again an' I'll keelhaul you. Second, either when our guests return or when the island starts throwin' rocks at us."

    "Won't it be a bit late then?"

    "Ah, quit yer whinin. I can see em' runnin' down the mountain now. I already sent the bosun out to get em, we'll lift anchor within 10 minutes an' we got at least twice that 'fore it gets dangerous." He focused the glass, then chortled. "One of 'em is bleedin' somethin' awful. Looks like it's time for you to earn yer keep, doctor."

    Oh, fantastic.

    Ok, calm down, you can do this. It'll be fine! How hard could it be, a snip snip here and a sew sew there, he'll be good as new! It's like fixing your niece's doll. This is not a big deal.

    The man, however, WAS big. A tree-like Avalonian man in a skirt, perhaps a Highlander, was escorted on board by a slight Castillian woman in pants and the dark-skinned bosun. He was still conscious, and could stand, though it obviously pained him. One hand was clutched over his stomach, and a dark stain was spreading through his blouse.

    Without preamble, I grabbed his face and started inspecting him, pressing into his cheeks as though he was a dog that had got ahold of something he shouldn't. He pulled away and grimaced, backing away. I rapped his knee with my cane - delicately of course - and grabbed his cheeks once more as he bellowed in pain, shoving my fingers between his molars to prevent it from closing once more.

    "Excuse me!" Oh good lord, that shrill voice. "What do you think you're doing? He's hurt! He needs to see the surgeon!"

    Once the shivers passed through my spine, I adjusted my spectacles and turned to face her. "Madam, I am the surgeon. Now if you please, I am busy checking your friend for internal injuries. I fear his uvula may have fallen off."

    The big man got nervous. "My uvula? Is...Is that important?"

    "Only the single most important organ in your head! It's the seat of your soul. According to research I've personally conducted, people become quite violent and incoherent immediately upon the removal of their uvula."

    The shrew piped up. "Excuse me, I don't think that's-"

    I wheeled on her, clutching my cane tightly. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize there were TWO trained and licensed professionals on board. Perhaps you'd like to give a second opinion? Please, by all means. You'd only be contravening one of the most respected doctors of medicine to come out of the University at Kirk. But no, I'm sure you're just as qualified." She glared at me, but remained quiet. "So you'll let me finish then?" Silence. "Fantastic. Why don't you make yourself useful and run down to my lab? Bring me a set of forceps, a roll of gauze, and some needle and a thread." She shot me a look that could curdle milk, but went below deck.

    With the nag out of the way, I returned to the big man, now noticeably paler. "Don't worry, she's gone now and I can proceed uninterrupted. Did you know that Vodacce men are born without uvulas? A little known fact, but it explains so much. Now, say Ah."

    "Ahhhhhhhh."

    "No no no! Follow my directions! Say Ah."

    "Ah?"

    "Much better." I peered into his mouth. I have no idea what I'm doing. "Alright, it appears your uvula sustained some superficial damage, but it'll heal overnight."

    The skirt-wearing ogre sighed in genuine relief. "That's great, doctor. Thank you. Now, um, I do have one more ailment I'd like you to take a look at."

    "Oh?"

    "The HOLE in my STOMACH."

    I waved my hands in dismissal. "A minor concern, nothing to be worried about." Just then, the hell-cat returned carrying the supplies I'd asked for. "Perfect! Thank you for finding those. Now if you'll please follow me down to my lab."

    -----------------------------------------------

    I consulted my star charts as the she-wolf strapped down the hulk, cross referencing the instructions with the Beginner's Book of Anatomy. "So I make the first incision here..." I drew my finger across the neck of the diagrammed man. Why doesn't that seem right? Ah, of course! The book is upside down. Ah yes, that makes much more sense.

    "Doctor? Shall I fetch a basin for you to wash your hands in?"

    I chuckled. "Nonsense! We Vendel have passed beyond such silly superstition. You may, however, fetch me a bottle of wine. The cheaper, the better."

    I was quickly given a bottle. I stood and uncorked the wine...she didn't skimp on the cheapness, that's for sure. I took a swig from the bottle, then poured the rest onto the wound. The Highlander groaned and began to thrash around. "Hold still, you ape! This'll go much faster if you don't wriggle around. Scalpel, please." One was placed into my hand.

    Ok. Showtime!

    I placed the blade inside the bullet hole and pressed down. In hindsight, perhaps I applied slightly too much pressure. Or perhaps I was on the wrong side of the bullet. I don't know; I'm not a doctor.

    There was a sound like air escaping a bladder as liquid spewed from the incision and painted the wall a foul shade of green, taking the slug with it. The Highlander screamed like a sissy, then fainted away.

    OH SWEET MERCIFUL PROPHETS WHAT IS THAT.

    "Relax, my dear! Nothing to be worried about. A perfectly natural expulsion of bodily waste. It's occurred in every surgery I've ever performed."

    Yes. Yes it has.

    "Calm down. I haven't lost a patient yet!"

    No. No I haven't.

    Despite my reassurances, however, the harridan wouldn't stop screaming. You'd think she'd never seen green unidentified liquid spurting from someone's stomach before. I do confess, though, that her panic was beginning to affect my judgment, and so I grabbed the closest thing to hand and crammed it in there good and tight, then quickly sewed it up.

    "See? Good as new! I will need to keep him overnight for observation, but I expect him to make a full recovery."

    "Doctor, is that...is that a cork in his stomach?"

    "...Think of it as his new bellybutton."
    Last edited by Marillion; 2010-10-05 at 07:35 PM.
    Quote Originally Posted by Xefas View Post
    I like my women like I like my coffee; 10 feet tall, incomprehensible to the human psyche, and capable of ending life as a triviality.

  5. - Top - End - #125
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    Quote Originally Posted by Lady Moreta View Post
    Made even more amusing by the fact that my character is a bard

    I am and always have been a compulsive note-taker. I struggled to stay awake during lectures at uni, so I would compulsively write down everything the lecturer said in an effort to stay awake (stupid overly-warm lecture theatres). It's stuck with me

    Probably frustrates the group, because it'll get to my turn, and I'm going "wait wait, I'm not ready yet!" trying to write and play at the same time is hard, but it pays off in the long run. DM is constantly going through my notes to refresh his memory
    I'm gonna have to start doing that if I"m gonna keep trying to post up snippets from sessions I'm running.

    also, later tonight I am GOING to finally write the death of valek, and then I'll be takin requests on what to write after that.

  6. - Top - End - #126
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    Quote Originally Posted by Werekat View Post
    I should mention that I couldn't see the end coming
    I didn't see it coming either. Very good with the springing of surprises. I wish I was that good at it.

    Quote Originally Posted by Werekat View Post
    Lady Moreta: ooh, note-keeper! Kudos from someone that once got a almost a megabyte of pure text in .txt format from her game. But I don't write such detailed notes anymore: that one took too much out of me. I prefer snippets these days. :)
    Thank you it's as much for my sake as anyone else's. Although Tanc's player has all my old notebooks because he's also writing snippets. I'm not quite as obsessive now as I used to be, but I like to get the comments and descriptions down as much as possible, for my own writing.


    Quote Originally Posted by Werekat View Post
    [CENTER]Dragons, Illusions, Sphinx
    or
    How could half the group have failed a will save that low?!
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    I love your description of your wizard running away in fear. Or teleporting away rather. Very well done. And I love the dragon's pure smugness about the whole thing. Perfectly well-sprung trap. There is something very feminine about the way the dragon talks too. Very well done

    And yes the 'hungry from smelling their blood' pure terrifying evil. Brilliant.



    Quote Originally Posted by Marillion View Post
    While A Death in the Family is in progress, here's something a little more light-hearted, told from the viewpoint of my Vendel "doctor."
    First impression: your Vendel has a warped sense of humour...

    Favourite parts:
    Quote Originally Posted by Marillion View Post
    Either there is a tremendous fire at the top, or there is about to be a tremendous fire everywhere. May we commence with sailing the hell away?"

    I placed the blade inside the bullet hole and pressed down. In hindsight, perhaps I applied slightly too much pressure. Or perhaps I was on the wrong side of the bullet. I don't know; I'm not a doctor.

    "Doctor, is that...is that a cork in his stomach?"

    "...Think of it as his new bellybutton."
    The bellybutton bit? Just about had me in hysterics. At work.

    Well done

  7. - Top - End - #127
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    Quote Originally Posted by Lady Moreta View Post
    First impression: your Vendel has a warped sense of humour...
    Whatever do you mean?
    The bellybutton bit? Just about had me in hysterics. At work.
    Yes, the group laughed for a good five minutes straight. Much drama dice was earned that night.

    My personal favorite bits were (apart from the bellybutton bit)
    -"My uvula? Is...Is that important?"
    -Asking the woman to get him some needle and a thread
    -Dismissing hand-washing as silly superstition as he's consulting a star chart

    I have much hope for Frederik; that was his first appearance.
    Quote Originally Posted by Xefas View Post
    I like my women like I like my coffee; 10 feet tall, incomprehensible to the human psyche, and capable of ending life as a triviality.

  8. - Top - End - #128
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    Quote Originally Posted by Machuchang View Post
    Well, that's the thing. The Deathwind WAS active before Varen lost his friend. My DM's pretty crafty, but he promised that the next time we game, he'll reveal how that twist came to be.
    ...
    Yeah, that reveal came as a total surprise to me too (during the game, that is). And I don't know when the next session for this campaign is going to be, so this cliffhanger may have to hold us for a little bit.
    Huh, spontaneous divination. Or something in the text, really. But, yeah, I want to read more. There's several possible explanations I can think of as a DM for this plot twist, but I really want to see what exactly yours will use.

    Quote Originally Posted by Machuchang View Post
    However, I still remember a lot of the previous sessions, so I'll probably post some snippets of those soon, definitely starting with the first session. Hopefully, that will help to give my snippet a little bit more context.
    I'd love that! Varen looks interesting, and context is always a good thing.

    Quote Originally Posted by Marillion View Post
    While A Death in the Family is in progress, here's something a little more light-hearted, told from the viewpoint of my Vendel "doctor."
    *crawls away laughing* Well done! I can't wait until our local 7th Sea DM gets to read this! Your "doctor" is the quintessential scoundrel, is he not? And very tight-rope walking, too: I loved how he'd risked annoying the captain the second time.

    And the character you did this to actually survived? You people are truly heroes in the 7th Sea style!

    As for my text, thank you for all the love. ;) For what it's worth, the last line is actually inspired by the favored soul's (Katarina's) player.

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    When giving me feedback for the session, he actually said something like "I actually wouldn't mind facing the dragon now. If you give us twenty or so rounds to heal." Of course, he also said "and if you give us our wizard back," but that's a whole different story. *evil DM grin*


    Lady Moreta:
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    I tried to evoke the "feminine" feeling by making the dragon speak more formally and using diminutives. Looks like it did the trick! ;-)


    An-nd the question I've been meaning to ask: what gender does my wizard read as? Well, besides being an elf? ;-)
    Last edited by Werekat; 2010-10-06 at 02:21 AM.
    There are thousands of good reasons magic doesn't rule the world. They're called mages. - Slightly misquoted Pratchett

  9. - Top - End - #129
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    Here is fluff I wrote for my Assassin for my friend Rob's Pathfinder campaign.

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    Throughout my career as an assassin, I have been good at one thing and one thing alone: making people disappear. The single caveat to my impeccable record is when anyone notices my choice in weaponry -- A tarnished, well-worn Battleaxe. The image of my silent, dour form attacking anyone with a weapon as inherently violent and bloody as my axe has always struck others as odd, and bit disconcerting. The story of my avocation to my line of business is a simple one and based in my childhood.

    Like most non-human members of our Beloved Empire, I was thrust into the world destined to be someone's slave. A gift from the Drow to His Majesty's eldest son, I was originally told that I was to be his apprentice. Trained to be made partner in his plantation and eventually become his successor. Until the time when I was meant to be trained, I was to be the Son's personal house servant.

    The young man was very particular about how things should be done. My first task was to give all of the floors of his mansion a thorough scrubbing, basement to attic, every day. If the work was not to his satisfaction (which was often) or a single spot missed, I was beaten and made to start the work over again.

    My second burden was to ring the bell that would bring all of the laborers to the house. This meant at least four times a day for meals, with more depending on any new orders my master wished to submit to his slaves -- which was quite frequent. I soon discovered that in order to pull the ponderous chain I had to throw the entirety of my weight into it. If I was tired or did not pull the back-breaking apparatus hard enough, my master was soon there to give me a generous thrashing until the bell rang loud and clear.

    My third burden was to dust every book and shelf in my master's great library. As old and deep as the shelves were, I had to do the dusting with a cloth on the end of a long and heavy rod. The only way I could see to manage the leviathan was to hold it at shoulder level and then swing it out in a sweeping motion. And again, if any dust was seen left on the shelves, or he didn't think I was working hard enough, the master would give me a beating.

    After several years, I grew into a young man, but my responsibilities were not increased. Once I had mastered my servile responsibilities, it was promised to me that I would be taught the Son's trade. Divorced from any knowledge except from my own base engagement, I had no idea how far in debt or how poor the plantation's yields were.

    When my sixteenth year came, I was called into the cellar by my benefactor. At first afraid for a thrashing because the floor was not scrubbed to his liking, I was surprised to find him packing all of his possessions into crates.

    "I'm leaving the Empire." he explained "The profession has gone sour, and I think I'm going to try my luck running a caravan in the north lands. I understand there's ample money to be made trading fake Duergar weapons to the Barbarians there. I wish I could take you with me, lad, but there isn't going to be need for my scouring, bell-pulling, or dusting where I'm going."

    "But master!" said I "I cannot read, I know nothing of the business you were to teach me. What will I do on my own?"

    He shrugged. "I'm sure you can find some sort of work in a domestic capacity. I have done my best with you. Goodbye."

    I had never stood up to my master before, and I felt no anger only a sort of coldness that gripped my heart. Among his possessions laid an old heavy axe, allegedly of Duergar manufacture. I lifted it in my hands and was surprised to find that it was not much heavier than my familiar dusting rod. In fact, it felt very comfortable as I lifted it to my shoulder and swung it out like so many times before. In this instance, however, I swung it into my master's right arm.

    The young man screamed in pain and rage, but for some reason I was not afraid of him anymore. I lifted the axe to my other shoulder, and cut a swath across his chest, dropping him to the floor immediately.

    I hesitated as I lifted the axe above my head -- another natural position for me. Like ringing a bell. Over and over again, I swung down like I was ringing that cursed bell. Except this time, no laborers came from the fields. The master had sent them away hours ago.

    In a time, there wasn't anything left of the Emperor's Son that couldn't be washed down the cellar drain. The process of cleaning up came naturally to me as well. Blood was much easier to scrub off the floors than the usual grime and flour that habitually covered the cellar.

    It was well known that the Emperor's Son was planning to leave for the north, so no one was surprised when he suddenly disappeared. All of the possessions in the house were sold to debt collectors, but I took the axe. It looks like the bastard gave me some useful business skills after all.

    By the time they had figured out what had happened, I was already long gone. Awash in the euphoria that was my new found power and freedom.



    +1 iCookies to anyone that can guess my character's race.

    It seems a bit awkward to me. I did a bit of canon-bending here and it makes my teeth itch.

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    Quote Originally Posted by Marillion View Post
    Whatever do you mean?
    The way he talks and thinks. "commence with getting the hell out" the star chart reading, and his utter absurdities

    Quote Originally Posted by Werekat View Post
    An-nd the question I've been meaning to ask: what gender does my wizard read as? Well, besides being an elf? ;-)
    My first instinct is to say 'female'... but that could be based on nothing more than the fact that I'm female, and I know you are too. Still, seems somehow feminine to me...

    Quote Originally Posted by Vin Robinson View Post
    Here is fluff I wrote for my Assassin for my friend Rob's Pathfinder campaign.

    +1 iCookies to anyone that can guess my character's race.
    First instinct was to say orc or half-orc. Second was dwarf. Read it again, and now am thinking drow.

    Am bad at guessing though, so I'm probably wrong on all counts

    Quote Originally Posted by Vin Robinson View Post
    It seems a bit awkward to me. I did a bit of canon-bending here and it makes my teeth itch.
    Doesn't seem awkward to me. I like a snippet that has no (or not much) dialogue in it. I'm not very good at driving a story forwards without talking, so I admire your skill in making it work. I don't know the mechanics of the game well enough to notice any canon-bending, so you're safe from me there

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    Anyone interested in a brief and humorous side-trip into the life of Nikoli Valshren, Tiefling Wererat Paladin (of Pelor)?


    Quote Originally Posted by Chilingsworth View Post
    Wow! Not only was that awesome, I think I actually kinda understand Archeron now. If all the "intermediate" outer planes got that kind of treatment, I doubt there would be anywhere near as many critics of their utility.
    My extended homebrew sig

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    You know me, I'm always interested

    Wait? Tiefling Wererat paladin? Okay, now I have to know.

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    Only read stories in first post. Very awesome. Keep it up.


    (only thing is, was only able to piece together what happened halfway through Leister's story)
    Part of the "Raise Nale and Let Him Serve Life in Prison" fan-club

    "The only reason why people didn't like Durkon before was because he is the only member of the group that doesn't commit evil, like hurting others, or breaking the rules for giggles. I.E.' He's not cool'"

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    Vin Robinson: nice, but there are a few awkward segments. For instance, this one:

    Quote Originally Posted by Vin Robinson View Post
    Throughout my career as an assassin, I have been good at one thing and one thing alone: making people disappear.
    You, er, kinda have to be good at making people disappear to qualify as an assassin (unless you mean illusion magic, but that doesn't seem to be the case ;-)). That's a prerequisite. What you've just said, it seems, is that the character barely meets it - it is the only thing he is good at, all the while being bad at things like getting clients, staying hidden from the law, disappearing himself when things get tough, backups and contingencies, and so on. Maybe I'm wrong, but that's how it read to me from the start. First sentences are the always tough to write, though.

    I also don't really understand why the Emperor's Son would be saying goodbye to a simple servant. For that matter, why did anyone bother promising him something? There might be something we're not seeing here, though, since it's a short snippet.

    Speaking of which: servant or apprentice? Or do you essentially have Roman slavery, where a good slave was much like a part of the family?

    I think your character is a gnome, though. He had a hard time pulling the bell and dusting, and a gnome with a battle axe would certainly be unusual! The only thing that doesn't seem to fit is his age - but at sixteen he could have been a child prodigy.

    Lord Gareth: yes, please. :) Included with just how that came to be.
    There are thousands of good reasons magic doesn't rule the world. They're called mages. - Slightly misquoted Pratchett

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    You know, lurking in this thread got me to finally sign up for the forums myself. I'd sort of like to submit a few of my own campaign "memories", but looking through them now, the general tone of that one game I've ever been in (on) is rather... weird and so this is pretty much testing the waters: Anyone interested in the adventures of a spellcasting drug-fiend, a megalomaniacal zealot and the owlbear-riding barbarian manchild who adopted them, on their way to perform some epic-level planar plumbing?

    On another note: I really enjoyed the stories in this thread so far. But, and please don't get me wrong, Vin, your story strikes me as eerily familiar... I could have sworn I've heard it somewhere else, in a game, if I recall correctly. I mean, might be coincidence, but I've got a major case of déjŕ-vu...
    Last edited by Worlok; 2010-10-06 at 08:52 AM.

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    Worlok: looks like fun. :) Sure, I'm interested.
    There are thousands of good reasons magic doesn't rule the world. They're called mages. - Slightly misquoted Pratchett

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    So... this character snippet thing. Can anyone play? 'Cuz I've got a new character whose head I'd like to get into (as well as some old characters whose headspace is just fun to be in!)

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    I was about half way through typing up "the death of Valek"

    but then My conscience struck me....

    it's not fair to write a snippet about an NPC the party hired along to fill in for a missing party member.... especially when the party also hired a "tank" who (at the request of the party) was 2 levels higher than them, who dominated in combat......


    so much to my chagrin....

    I now have no idea what to write about............
    I have the "origin stories" of my various characters including
    Spoiler
    Show
    Valek Knifebeard
    Roche Smoulderbeard
    Cog Skulltaker
    Maximillian Thanos
    and the second half of "gohk and grok"
    for dnd

    for phoenix (a superhero expansion for d20 modern)
    I have
    Liam
    and Blacklist

    and then..........

    A guardsmen from Dark Heresy named Casey.....

    so what do yall want me to write up first? the hardest part of this for me is picking what to do next.

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    Pisha: Welcome to the thread! *looks around for the OP and first posters* And, well, I'm pretty sure anyone can play. :)

    big teej: why's it bad to write about an NPC? I do that pretty often to get into their heads, and if it's well-written, it should be fine. :) So I vote for Valek. But please, please, please take a bit more care with the punctuation and stuff. It's hard to read as it is now.

    As for my stuff: the DM in another one of my games has been reading this, and has asked me why I've not written stuff like that for the character in his game. My answer was, "Because it is a lot harder to write an Int 16, Wis 6 (sic!) CN Duskblade than an Int 18(20), Wis 11 TN wizard." But then I decided I was up to the challenge.

    Warning: sewer monsters and appropriate physiological terms abound. Unreliable Overconfident narrator. And, yeah, more weird pop-culture references than the last two.

    So, without further ado:

    It's Crawlin' Time,
    or
    You *did* know the enchantment that would have spared you that costs merely 500 GP, right?
    Spoiler
    Show
    ...Oh great forsaken weapons of doom! Getting impaled doesn't seem so bad now! At least the green fetid crap in my stomach would spew out!

    And I wake with a gasp and a sickening lump in my throat, grasping at my trusty guizarme. What in the thrice-stamped rejection lists of the celestial bureaucracy was that!?

    A half-conscious moan from my left... Bagheera brought a man in again?!

    No. Damn it. This ain't gonna be solved with a pillow down someone's throat.

    The warlock is thrashing about, foaming at the mouth, obviously unconscious.

    Now, hey, I'm a caster, I can beat any of the pure academy mages in a straight fight, provided they're in reach. But this? When you see something like this, you know you'll want a cleric.

    So I burst into the neighboring room, and let them be envious of the silken underwear and the sexy guizarme.

    "Hassan, Cris! Wake up, you accursed sloths!"

    Hassan is already wide awake, and looking like he'd swallowed a frog. Cris's reaction is more like mine - the bow is tight in his hands way before he opens his eyes. The hawk, his companion, squawks angrily.

    "Wha?.. Bashira?"

    "Right you are, pal. There's something wrong with Bagheera, go and see, while I get my armor on! I've a feeling this is going to stink royally."

    Cris is already pulling his pants on, so I get back into my room and start dressing myself, while Hassan makes sure our warlock doesn't drown in slobber. Not that she needs much more drool to pull that off, but thanks to the priest's timely intervention, she doesn't. Good for us, I guess, bad for my sleep in nights to come.

    I snap the last of my armor into place, activating my favorite glamor - a charming silken dress - and look outside.

    Whoa. Whatever it was, it woke up the city! Lights are everywhere...
    Everywhere I know mages and clerics live. And in some places I'm not sure of. Let's see if I can map those tomorrow.

    Anyway. Looks like we just got work of some kind. Now just where is it?..

    Ooh. Is that a black puddle... Rising to the first floor window level... Rising to the second floor? Crawling out of the sewers? Lesseee, what do we remember about those?

    Right. Crap-eating oozes that are usually contained by the city's mages. Good news: these don't split when harmed, to control their population. Bad news: they still eat everything in sight.

    Eeedjits. I always said the local mages were just like, "Ooh, I wanna be digested by my own handi - if those were made by hands and not other organs! - handiwork. But, hey, we get to clean up and we get paid, right?

    "Great." Cris says, already by my side. I can see the look in his eyes.
    They have little gold coins circling around the irises. "Ready to fight a few jellies?"

    "Always ready!" I laugh.

    "Bagheera seems to be safe." Hassan reports. "Let me get my weapons."

    Cris notches an arrow and lazily shoots into the blackness. It... Dissolves.

    Great. If I touch it with my guizarme, it'll eat it, too. And I don't have many reach spells. Backup, then.

    And then the pungent thing is in our faces.

    "Whoa! That was quick!" I yell, as I dodge a pseudopod.

    Cris isn't so lucky, and I hear the ranger's hoarse voice cry out in
    pain. And it's got him choked. And half-dissolved. Quick indeed!

    I punch it.

    "ARRGGet back to your outhouse, you stupid jelly! Cris, RUN!" And the jelly appears across the street. Too bad there's no cliff to drop it off here.

    The ranger dives back into the healing embrace of our cleric. I hope to follow suit, but just as I turn to run, I feel a searing pain, as it lashes across my back and whirls around my chest.

    MY ARMOR!

    But I slip out of its tentacle, just in time to see two more arrows embed themselves in the ooze.

    "That was charmed mithril, you annoying little..."

    "Bashira!"

    "My armor, you bastard! I am SO going to get the one who summoned you..."

    "Bashira, curse you!"

    "...and make them eat their intestines, all the while being..."

    "Bashira, listen!" Cris's yell finally gets across. "We need to get out of here! Outside, where we can maneuver!"

    "Right. But don't dissuade me on the intestines thing!"

    "Er, Bashira?" Hassan hands me a sheet.

    "Thanks!" I wrap it around my burned chest hastily. Oooh, someone's gonna pay in the most painful coin possible.

    We run out, and Cris shoots it some more. So do I, with magic, but I can't really do much without a reach weapon. Note to self: finally buy bow again! I broke my first one back in training and never looked back. It might help next time, though.

    But the ooze still notices Cris and starts crawling towards him. I distract it with a bit of cold, and it lashes out with a massive tentacle again.

    Owwowowowow.

    And a couple more arrows. When's it gonna die?!

    "Bashira, catch!" Our cleric shouts, and throws me a crossbow.

    I snatch it out of the air as I dodge some more attacks.

    "Hey, AI-less crapshoot, eat this!" And it quivers and loses structure, black waves of stinking mass disintegrating as they cascade down, down, down.

    "Whoo!"

    "Don't be so optimistic!" Cris yells.

    Yep, that was a bit early. One more is crawling out of the hellhole which the first one came through, and another one is somewhat off, but not by far.

    So we start shooting again, and the cleric starts summoning. Not that it works too well: when the crap monsters are as big as the houses and fill the street, it's a bit hard not go get caught between two who have crawled out on opposite sides of yours. But they're way too slow, and we do just as I predicted - shoot one quickly enough to get a "get out of reach" card for free from the other one.

    I just have time to withdraw and turn around, and aim, when suddenly we hear a bit more twanging than our bow and crossbow could make together even if they had bowstring babies from every shot fired, and the last jelly finally dissolves.

    The guard. Armed with crossbows, all. Killstealers!

    Well, we can steal a few kills from them.

    "Are you all right?" Their leader calls out.

    "Somewhat digested, but otherwise fine." Cris says grimly. "Are there more of these?"

    "A lot more." The guard answers. "The city's drowning in them!" Looks like the sewers have broken down finally and completely. What *have* they been feeding those oozes so that they rebel? Oh, right, crap. Not that they care.

    "I say we go and get the others. Right NOW." I interject, snarling. "Whoever did this gots me an armor to buy."

    "Err, Bashira." Cris says, staring. The guards also stare. Oh, right, cloth-eating.

    Hassan just hands me a new piece of sheet with a prayer on top.

    "Good as new!" I say, tying the final knot in my makeshift dress. "Let's go get them bastards!"
    There are thousands of good reasons magic doesn't rule the world. They're called mages. - Slightly misquoted Pratchett

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    Quote Originally Posted by Werekat View Post
    big teej: why's it bad to write about an NPC? I do that pretty often to get into their heads, and if it's well-written, it should be fine. :) So I vote for Valek. But please, please, please take a bit more care with the punctuation and stuff. It's hard to read as it is now.
    because I was DMing, and the NPC barbarian they took along completely dominated combat.....

    so I felt guilty writing about said exploits...

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    Quote Originally Posted by Cerlis View Post
    Only read stories in first post. Very awesome. Keep it up.

    (only thing is, was only able to piece together what happened halfway through Leister's story)
    Thank you Well, I wasn't trying to hide what had happened or make anyone guess. It wasn't outright clear because he was thinking about what had happened in the past. He already knew what had gone on that day, and because the dialouge was mostly internal, he wasn't going to start narrating.

    Quote Originally Posted by Worlok View Post
    You know, lurking in this thread got me to finally sign up for the forums myself. I'd sort of like to submit a few of my own campaign "memories", but looking through them now, the general tone of that one game I've ever been in (on) is rather... weird and so this is pretty much testing the waters: Anyone interested in the adventures of a spellcasting drug-fiend, a megalomaniacal zealot and the owlbear-riding barbarian manchild who adopted them, on their way to perform some epic-level planar plumbing?
    I want to hear about planar plumbing. It sounds like fun

    Quote Originally Posted by Werekat View Post
    Pisha: Welcome to the thread! *looks around for the OP and first posters* And, well, I'm pretty sure anyone can play. :)
    *waves hand* Please join us Pisha

    Quote Originally Posted by Werekat View Post
    So, without further ado:

    It's Crawlin' Time,
    or
    You *did* know the enchantment that would have spared you that costs merely 500 GP, right?
    Ummm... wow. That was quite different from your last couple. Well done for changing your writing style so completely for the different characters. I'm impressed. That's one thing I really struggle with.

    Only one thing I noticed that wasn't quite right:
    Quote Originally Posted by Werekat View Post
    it's a bit hard not go get caught between two
    I think there's a word missing in that sentence, it doesn't make sense. I did find it a bit hard to get into... it was a bit jarring having someone wake up and have a companion having a fit. Made me wonder what on earth had happened that they hadn't noticed. But the flow improved as it went on.

    Quote Originally Posted by big teej View Post
    because I was DMing, and the NPC barbarian they took along completely dominated combat.....

    so I felt guilty writing about said exploits...
    So? I wanna hear about him too.

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    Quote Originally Posted by Werekat View Post
    So I burst into the neighboring room, and let them be envious of the silken underwear and the sexy guizarme.
    Quote Originally Posted by Werekat View Post
    "A lot more." The guard answers. "The city's drowning in them!" Looks like the sewers have broken down finally and completely. What *have* they been feeding those oozes so that they rebel? Oh, right, crap. Not that they care.

    "I say we go and get the others. Right NOW." I interject, snarling. "Whoever did this gots me an armor to buy."

    "Err, Bashira." Cris says, staring. The guards also stare. Oh, right, cloth-eating.

    Hassan just hands me a new piece of sheet with a prayer on top.

    "Good as new!" I say, tying the final knot in my makeshift dress. "Let's go get them bastards!"
    Oh man! I laughed SO hard at these two parts. Very well done!

    Quote Originally Posted by big teej View Post
    because I was DMing, and the NPC barbarian they took along completely dominated combat.....

    so I felt guilty writing about said exploits...
    Aww, come on! I got so hyped about hearing that story, the least you could do is let us see it.

    Quote Originally Posted by Worlok View Post
    You know, lurking in this thread got me to finally sign up for the forums myself. I'd sort of like to submit a few of my own campaign "memories", but looking through them now, the general tone of that one game I've ever been in (on) is rather... weird and so this is pretty much testing the waters: Anyone interested in the adventures of a spellcasting drug-fiend, a megalomaniacal zealot and the owlbear-riding barbarian manchild who adopted them, on their way to perform some epic-level planar plumbing?
    DO IT!

    Quote Originally Posted by Pisha View Post
    So... this character snippet thing. Can anyone play? 'Cuz I've got a new character whose head I'd like to get into (as well as some old characters whose headspace is just fun to be in!)
    As far as I'm aware, yeah. No one's kicked me out yet. It's a whole lot of fun and is really a great way to get into your character's way of thinking. I'd love to see what you have to write!


    Anyway, I've got another episode from Varen's past. The first session of this campaign in fact, way back when he was just a Level 1 Paladin. They grow up so fast...

    *ahem*

    Defiance
    (or Coup de Graces Don't Work That Way...)
    Spoiler
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    It had been a long day of training at the monastery, and I was just happy for it all to be over. The warm evening air that at other times could have been pleasant now felt incredibly oppressive against my sweaty skin, and all I wanted at that moment was to cool off. Too tired to even remove my armor, I trudged down the winding, sloped path from the training grounds to the creek. I sat down heavily on the bank of the river and dipped my hands into the water, savoring its cool temperature. Relaxing, I closed my eyes…

    Only to be disturbed by a sharp tap to the back of my head.

    “You know Varen, normal people wash their hands in a basin,”

    I turned around and smiled at my new company.

    “Well Tali, normal people don’t knock out half of the monastery with a wooden sword in combat drills,” I teased as I flicked water at her. “So as an extraordinary person, I’m sure you must have come here to wash your hands, unless I owe something else to your visit?” I grinned cheekily up at her.

    “Father Daugherty sent me to come get you,” she said while trying and failing to contain a smile. “It’s dinnertime now, and if you don’t get a move on, there won’t be any left. Come on, we’ll walk on up together,”

    Slowly, I brought myself to my feet and followed her up the path when she suddenly stopped, her eyes focused on something rising above the line of trees. I followed her gaze to see a billowing, thick, black cloud wafting over the trees.

    “Smoke…” her voice trailed off and her face went pale. The next thing I knew, she was running far ahead of me on the path. Frightened and confused, I followed her as closely as I could, worried about losing her in the clouds of smoke that had started to descend upon the path. Assaulted from all ends by the choking fumes, my eyes began to water and my breath became short and labored.

    No, it couldn’t be! It just wasn’t possible!

    But is was. As I dashed out of the choking smoke, I was stopped dead in my tracks by the sight of the priory, ablaze. I watched in terrified fascination as the flames quickly climbed over the monastery, engulfing it all in flame.

    Even worse, though, was what I saw happening around the burning wreck of my home. A massive horde of barbarians, both human and orc, wearing the skulls of animals as helmets, were locked in combat with my brothers and sisters at-arms. Dead bodies were strewn about the grounds haphazardly, illuminated by the flames and much to my horror, most of them were of people I knew. I knelt down next to the corpse of an old friend, and muttered a quick prayer for his soul as I took his sword and shield. He wouldn’t be needing them anymore.

    “Oh gods, Natalia,” I said softly, trying to hold the back my choking sobs. “What are we going to do?”

    No answer. I looked up in alarm, just in time to see Natalia disappear into the abbey.

    “Tali! Wait!” I screamed, as I prepared to give chase. But as I went to move after her, the giant Eight-Pointed Star, the sign of our order, fell from the roof, blocking the entry into the abbey. Disheartened, I turned around, only find that my around had been cut off by two of the strange tribesmen, one wearing a bear’s skull, the other a wolf‘s. The skull masks they wore were illuminated eerily by the light of the flames as they began to close in around me. I brought up my shield just in time to deflect an axe blow from the orc wearing a bear skull. He snarled and hefted his weapon, preparing for another strike.

    “This ‘un looks like he’ll be a lot of fun!” the slender human wearing a wolf skull cackled menacingly as he circled behind me, twirling two thin blades in his hands. He lashed at me, and I ducked one dagger easily, only to be caught by the second as he whipped it upwards. I staggered backwards as blood dripped from my forehead across my face. Blinking my eyes to keep my vision clear, I turned towards my new assailant, only to be struck in the back by the orc as he rammed me. I fell to the ground at the feet of the human, who jabbed at me with both blades at once. I lashed back with my shield and heard two satisfying tings as I knocked the daggers from his hands. Using the momentum from the block, I spun upwards and caught him in the neck with my sword. He fell to ground as I regained my footing, turning to face the orc. The orc screamed in rage and brought his axe around in a vicious arc which I neatly sidestepped. Taking advantage of his opening, I rammed into him, sword first. By the time he hit the ground, I was already gone, trying to get into the abbey some other way.

    “Natalia!? Tali!? Where are you!?” I shouted at the top of my lungs, trying to make myself heard over the clamor of the battle. A woman’s chilling scream was the only reply I received. I ran as fast as I could in the direction of the cry, arriving just in time to see the screaming woman driven to the ground. I moved as quickly as I could to try and save her, but I was too late. Her opponent casually slammed his two sword through her chest, before turning to me. Cold sweat ran down my neck as I gazed at him in complete and utter fear. He was truly a figure straight out of a nightmare, wearing a horrible mask crafted from the fused skulls of a variety of monsters. Over his rusted chain link was the skull of a dragon, and a tattered hide cloak lay draped over his shoulders. Worst of all, he was covered in blood. The blood of my friends.

    “You will know fear, tool of the emperor,” he said as he stalked towards me, his voice garbled by some strange magic in his mask. Coolly, he unsheathed a second sword, twirling one in each hand. “For I am the Deathwind. Know my name well, for it shall be the only thing you will remember in the afterlife,” I hid behind my shield, tensing myself in preparation for his inevitable assault. He unleashed blow after blow, each powerful strike hammering into my shield, pushing me back. Before I knew it, I had been driven to my knees, my shield the only thing keeping his blades away. Then, with a loud crack, why shield was shattered into splinters and his sword was embedded deep into my left arm.

    I screamed in agony, only to be cut short by the flat of his other blade as he brought it full-force into my face. My head hit the ground, and as I laid there, stunned and prone, he slowly twirled his blades once more, preparing for the coup de grace. I closed my eyes, and heard the whoosh of the air as he brought his blades downward.

    Keen!

    Blinking, I opened my eyes to see why I was not yet dead. Natalia stood over me, a greatsword in her hands. The Deathwind stood opposite her, a large gash in his side, blood dripping down his armor.

    “Bitch!” he shrieked as he whipped his swords up. “I will make you regret this interference!” With that, he charged, blades held high. He brought his left around in a wide circle, which Natalia easily parried. As his right came around, she twisted herself, knocking his blade aside with her shoulder pad. But this threw off her balance, bringing her too close to him to use her blade. To my utter horror, the Deathwind took advantage of this opening, grasping her tightly in a bear hug.

    “Varen, get up!” she screamed at me. “RUN!” I tried to move, but couldn't, my body far beyond my control. Lying there on the ground, I could only watch in dismay as the Deathwind slammed his head into hers with a sickening crunch. She went limp in his arms before he dropped her nonchalantly to the ground, making his way over to me.

    “She’s cute,” the Deathwind said, his voice taking on a strange, high-pitched, mocking tone, far removed from his previous manner of speaking. “Don’t worry though. She’s not dead,” he chuckled darkly. “I’ll just make her wish she was. She‘ll make a great souvenir! And the best part is, she couldn’t even protect you!” he rammed one of his swords deep into my gut to emphasize his point. “She will regret this day... for as long as I decide to keep her alive. As for you…” his voice suddenly became deep once more “Any last words, boy?!”

    “I…” I coughed weakly. “Will… h-hunt you to the ends of the earth… The n-next t-time I see you… I will kill you…” I swore. “And gods help you, if you lay one hand on Natalia, there will not be a piece of you left for anyone to find! It is you who will regret this day!”

    “You are brave,” the Deathwind murmured. “I will await our confrontation, should you truly survive,” With that, he drove his second blade through my chest, before turning and walking away, only stopping to carry Tali away.

    Lying on the ground, my vision began to blur, then darken, but I refused to die. Not here. Not now. Not like this. The barbarian army slowly pulled away, and I was left among the dead. Yet I refused to join them. With all my strength, I screamed in defiance.






    “NATALIAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!”


    tl;dr It takes a long time for any real action to occur, Natalia gets kidnapped, and Varen demonstrates a surprising tendency to not die.
    Last edited by Machuchang; 2010-10-07 at 12:46 AM.

  23. - Top - End - #143
    Ogre in the Playground
     
    BardGirl

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    I liked it I have a soft spot for straight out heroics like that. And I like paladins too.

    Quote Originally Posted by Machuchang View Post
    Then, with a loud crack, why shield was shattered into splinters and his sword was embedded deep into my left arm.
    Typo?

    Quote Originally Posted by Machuchang View Post
    I screamed in agony, only to be cut short by the flat of his other blade as he brought it full-force into my face. My head hit the ground, and as I laid there, stunned and prone, he slowly twirled his blades once more, preparing for the coup de grace. I closed my eyes, and heard the whoosh of the air as he brought his blades downward.

    Keen!

    Blinking, I opened my eyes to see why I was not yet dead.
    I will admit, this bit - namely the 'keen' doesn't really make sense to me. Perhaps because the first thing it makes me think of is the idea of making a weapon keen to deal extra damage. But I'm not sure what you're trying to signify with it. The sound the blades made moving through the air? The fact that all Varen could think about was that the blades were keen and going to kill him? The writing is good, but I am not sure this was quite the right descriptive word to use here.

  24. - Top - End - #144
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    Quote Originally Posted by Lady Moreta View Post
    Ummm... wow. That was quite different from your last couple. Well done for changing your writing style so completely for the different characters. I'm impressed. That's one thing I really struggle with.
    *laughs* Well, that's because Bashira (which, incidentally, means "bearer of good news," if online name lists are to be believed, and coincides nicely with "bash" in English) is a total contrast to the usual character archetypes I play. I play mages - generalists, and sometimes diviners, who are usually very careful not to let their hair down until actually safe (and how often does that happen when you adventure?). They're also generally quiet, careful, but fierce when you cross them. They don't enjoy battle - or at least they don't admit it to themselves - but they'll do battle. They're also, whichever gender, relatively ignorant of gender issues. They just don't care, mostly, and those they love or form liaisons with are of either gender. There's plenty of room to make characters different in these bounds, but usually I have at least a few of these traits in my characters.

    Bashira's loud and opinionated ("there's no point in being powerful if you're not free to say what you want"), wants fame, social standing, and money (in that order), and enjoys the fact that after that little stunt she'll be recognized by most of the city as totally crazy (half - in a good way, half - in a bad way). She's very female, flaunting her beauty (not that there's much of it, Cha 12, but she doesn't care), but she can do anything she wants with the rest of them, and anyone who disagrees can just get a reach weapon down an orifice of choice. She's also way too wrapped up in herself to let little things like monsters and public opinions get in her way (Oh, Wis 6, how I love thee), though she might listen to a companion... If not busy with something else. It would have been really hard to write her the same way as Jailin!

    Basically, for me it comes down to figuring out where the characters differ in perception, and then writing what they see accordingly. It takes me a long time, though. I need between 5 to 10 sessions to actually get a character's voice (that's 30-50 hours gaming time - way too long for most people), and after I do get them, they tend to stick around for years and years.

    It gets really hard to do different voices in things like philosophical discussions, though. I've a big work in Russian, where the two lead characters often engage in philosophical speculation, and not making them sound identical when they're both following dispute conventions is very hard.

    Quote Originally Posted by Lady Moreta View Post
    I think there's a word missing in that sentence, it doesn't make sense. I did find it a bit hard to get into... it was a bit jarring having someone wake up and have a companion having a fit. Made me wonder what on earth had happened that they hadn't noticed. But the flow improved as it went on.
    Yeah, a typo. It should have been "not to get caught."
    And, yeah, the waking up was really random in the campaign, too. I should probably have mentioned it was also pretty dark, and the priest of fire's flaming hands. I'll probably edit it once I add the embellishments.

    Quote Originally Posted by Machuchang View Post
    Oh man! I laughed SO hard at these two parts. Very well done!
    Thank you!

    Quote Originally Posted by Machuchang View Post
    Defiance
    (or Coup de Graces Don't Work That Way...)
    Pluses: does shed the light on your backstory, articulate, very appropriately horrific. A nice contrast between the serenity of the initial scene and the horror of what happened next. Serenity's hard, but you have it down in a few strokes, and that's good.

    Minuses (very subjective!): 1) Seconding the "keen" thing.

    2) The classic - show, don't tell. Now, mind you, this is the single hardest thing to do ever when writing in first-person, and it's something I personally struggle with a lot. That's why it's noticeable for me. You have to strike a balance between showing the audience the scenery - what the person actually sees, third-person style - and what they're thinking and feeling about it. You lean very heavily into third-person.

    The rules my editors always gave me sounded like this: don't describe your own actions ("grinned cheekily at her" - whether it was "cheeky" is for Natalia to describe), don't describe the actual details of what happens - describe what the character notices, don't describe as if he's seeing himself from the outside - describe what the character sees.The exception to this is when the character's actually trying to notice what he's doing for some reason ("I'm typing at this keyboard now, the familiar sound of the clicks somehow disturbing, and yet I need this experience to finish my example".)

    Battle scenes are especially hard to do in this regard. If you have an excuse to monologue while you're in a relatively calm situation, you don't have one when you're struggling for your life. Basically, you need to know if your character is even capable of noticing things, because perception narrows in combat, and even very obvious things can sometimes get ignored. Or if, maybe, his perception sharpens, and he takes in every detail - but then it's still from his perspective, and not from third person. Maybe time speeds up for him (the "Wha? It's all over?" syndrome), or maybe it slows down (from personal experience, yes, it's possible to completely formulate a battle strategy in under a second. But it's just as possible to be paralyzed with fear). And other stuff like that. Generic description does not work well in combat.

    The study of what exactly people focus on in combat is very interesting. There are two books available in English, both by Dave Grossman - "On Killing" and "On Combat," which describe the process in great detail, and I use them as a reference constantly. Of authors who work in fiction, Zelazny's probably my favorite, especially "The Chronicles of Amber." You can see that the author knows his martial arts and has been in hand-to-hand.

    For examples closer to home: I think it worked better in your first piece. Though not without misses, you still focus more on your character than the general detail. And I really like the way Marillion and Lord Gareth do it, actually. Nearly every detail in their stories defines what the current focal character sees in the situation, at the same time providing us with enough information to make our own conclusions about what's going on.

    I hope you don't mind the extensive criticism - if you do (if anyone does, really), I'll keep quiet about stuff like that from now on. It's still an interesting read - I, too, have a soft spot (read: love-hate relationship) with paladins, and I really want to see where Varen goes from there, but right now it's a mish-mash of styles. And it's hard to keep quiet about it because I've already seen you do better. :)

    On a side note: anyone want an old snippet or two from WoD games? Or shall we keep it D&D and related?
    There are thousands of good reasons magic doesn't rule the world. They're called mages. - Slightly misquoted Pratchett

  25. - Top - End - #145
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    Griffon

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    Heh, thanks. Hi, everyone!

    Ok... here's one I was working on for a new character of mine, a hobgoblin named Hakar. The game is set in Eberron; the tone is a little slow and introspective, but then again so is the character. (And yes, he really does talk like that.) Sorry if it's long.

    Spoiler
    Show

    The barmaid brings me my tankard with a smile. The smile broadens when I hand her coins, but it seemed genuine from the first, and I am glad I gave her too much money. She has kind eyes. The smile brightens her face, and for a moment she is beautiful. I smile back, though I know she cannot see it, and nod my head in thanks.

    Almost out of instinct, I splash a little bit out into the fire near our table. Over the hissing, I murmur quiet thanks to Olladra for the gift of beer to make us joyful. Leaning back into the shadows then, I cautiously raise my visor and take a sip. It is good. Humans do not brew as well as dwarves do, but they appreciate the finer things in life.

    Treestrider leans over to me, lightly touching the raised visor. “Why are you keeping your helmet on at all? Isn’t that uncomfortable?” There is frank curiosity in his voice; I am pleased that I can hear it. Three months ago I would not have been able to. I wonder briefly whether this is because he has become more at ease with me, and therefore more expressive, or whether I have simply learned to listen better. “A few people are staring at you.”

    “That may be.” I raise an eyebrow at him. “Do you imagine they would stare less if they could see my face?” I peer at him from beneath my raised helm.

    His wooden head tilts slightly to one side, the glowing fire in his eyes flickering briefly. “Are you afraid of them?”

    I smile then, unable to help it. “My friend, there is very little that I fear.” With my tankard, I indicate the rest of the room. “But look at these people. They are happy. Enjoying the evening. As am I, despite any discomfort from my helmet.” I take another sip of beer. “If I were to remove my helmet, many of these people would become afraid of me. And I would be unhappy, because I find it unpleasant to be feared. Some of them might even try to hurt me, and I would have to do violence to prevent that – which I do not want.”

    He sits back. Like all warforged, he is an enigma – an old soul in a young body. In some ways, Treestrider knows more of life than I do; in others, he is still a child. I do not know how much he truly understands about the differences between the fleshy races, or why a hobgoblin like myself would not get a warm welcome in a human tavern no matter whose symbol he wears around his neck. To illustrate the point, I wave a hand at our newfound companions, at their own table a little ways away. “Do you see how they react to Phut?”

    In truth, reaction to him is mixed. For every human who stares suspiciously at him, another laughs despite himself. The feisty woman he’s currently engaging in banter might have something to do with that. They are a mismatched pair, Phut and Tuph – a large barbarian orc and his pint-sized halfling partner, born on opposite sides of the continent but so close they could have been raised together. That novelty alone would be enough to make him a curiosity rather than a threat in some people’s eyes. Mostly, though, I suspect it is simply Phut himself. For all his size and ferocity, for all his lack of social graces and distinctly un-human features, there is something about his guileless grin and booming laugh that makes people like him. It is something I never learned, how to be easy with people and put them at ease in return. Even with that, though, there are still some who are clearly not comfortable with him in their tavern. Their mutters and glares are not subtle. He doesn’t seem to notice – although, to judge from their postures, the remaining members of their quartet do. The elf Meloria appears to be reading a book and ignoring them, but her pose is too casual and her shoulders are stiff; Vel engages them in conversation, but his smile never reaches his eyes.

    “They did rescue us from that cavern,” I say quietly, answering a question Treestrider never asked. “It would be gracious of us to assist them in their endeavors for a time.” He grunts. Glancing over, I see he is drawing again, filling his leather-bound book with sketches and blueprints for armor modifications that I know he’ll never make. I continue. “And we will need their help if we ever hope to go back and face that thing in the deeps. It needs to be destroyed. I do not think we can do so on our own.” He grunts again. It might be agreement or disagreement, or it may simply be an acknowledgement that I have spoken.

    I sit back as well, enjoying my beer and taking pleasure in the companionable silence. Treestrider is good to travel with. I know he likes the idea of traveling further into the humans’ settled lands as little as I do, but I hope he will decide, like me, to accompany this group. I would be sad to part ways with him.

    Long minutes go by in which neither of us speaks. After our long captivity in the caves, I savor the simple joy of sitting in a tavern with a friend, hearing the laughter around us. After a while I finish my beer and lower my visor again; the barmaid graces me with another room-brightening smile as she picks up the empty mug.

    As she leaves, Treestrider stirs. Without lifting his head, he says, “If any of the humans here tried to hurt you, they would have to go through me.” His voice is very quiet and very implacable, and despite his muted inflections I can hear the anger under his words. It is a deep anger, an old anger, and I realize anew that the desire to avenge old wrongs is still in him. There is a part of him that would not mind a fight tonight.

    Something stirs in my soul in response. The old thing, the red thing, the fire that still burns. In the back of my mind, a sweetly reasonable whisper wonders if he might be right. After all, to harm the innocent is an evil act. If these humans picked a fight with me, knowing nothing of me and when I had done them no harm, wouldn’t it then be my duty to punish their wickedness? As one who has sworn to eradicate evil, would it not be proper to allow these men to expose whatever evil might be in their hearts, so that it does not go unchastised? And behind and beneath these arguments, the voice of the Fury growls. The faded marks on my shoulders tingle, and I feel the old lust for blood and violence rise.

    It is a feeling as tiresome as it is familiar. Reaching up, I touch the crude wooden pendant, not much bigger than a coin, that hangs from my neck. As my fingers trace the symbol carved onto it, I silently offer a prayer to the Bright Lady, Dol Arrah, noblest of the Sovereign Host and my personal patron. As if in response, a feeling of peace and joy washes over me, like stepping out of darkness into sunlight, and I push my darker urges aside as I have done so many times.

    “Of that, I have no doubt,” I say, after a pause. “But who would be helped by it? To interrupt peace and happiness with anger and violence would ruin these people’s nights as well as my own. They are not my enemy.” Nor yours. I lay a hand on his arm, the smooth wood warm to my touch. “I am grateful for your concern, but it is misplaced. I am happy tonight. Leave it be.” He meets my gaze, and I smile, hoping he can read the sincerity behind it. After a moment, he nods, and his eyes brighten in what I have come to realize is an answering smile of his own. Clapping him on the shoulder, I lean forward and beckon the barmaid to bring another round.

    Thank you, my Lady. As the merriment around us continues, I thank Dol Arrah once again for calming my mind and showing me, in a hundred small ways every day, how to walk the path of virtue and honor.

    For that is the duty of a paladin.



    And in answer to the earlier question, I for one would like to see snippets from WoD!

  26. - Top - End - #146
    Ogre in the Playground
     
    BardGirl

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    Quote Originally Posted by Werekat View Post
    Bashira's loud and opinionated ("there's no point in being powerful if you're not free to say what you want"), wants fame, social standing, and money (in that order), and enjoys the fact that after that little stunt she'll be recognized by most of the city as totally crazy (half - in a good way, half - in a bad way).
    She's very entertaining!

    Quote Originally Posted by Werekat View Post
    Basically, for me it comes down to figuring out where the characters differ in perception, and then writing what they see accordingly. It takes me a long time, though. I need between 5 to 10 sessions to actually get a character's voice (that's 30-50 hours gaming time - way too long for most people), and after I do get them, they tend to stick around for years and years.
    Wow. I wish I could manage that. I'm afraid I just don't think fast enough on my feet to pull it off. Not in game anyway. That's why I started writing snippets. Heck, I have sometimes asked my husband to give me warning if he's going to mess with my character, just in general, so I have time to consider how she'd respond. I was never happy with the way I had Silver react to the succubus, and afterwards I mentioned to my husband that I wish'd he' warned me. A simple "I'm going to mess with bringing up Silver's past" would have been enough for me to start thinking of ways to react. Fortunately, my darling is a very easy-going DM and doesn't actually mind doing things like that.


    Quote Originally Posted by Werekat View Post
    2) The classic - show, don't tell. Now, mind you, this is the single hardest thing to do ever when writing in first-person, and it's something I personally struggle with a lot. That's why it's noticeable for me. You have to strike a balance between showing the audience the scenery - what the person actually sees, third-person style - and what they're thinking and feeling about it. You lean very heavily into third-person.
    This is really hard to do. I struggle with it as well, which is why I started writing snippets, to help my first-person writing. My biggest struggle is something I've noticed - when writing in first person, I have a bad habit of putting things into the past tense when they shouldn't be. I think I did it a lot with the succubus story. I kept switching between Silver essentially going over what had happened in her mind, and her describing it as if it were happening at that very moment. I was much more careful when doing the Fire Elemental one, and I think I did better, but it's something to keep an eye on.

    Quote Originally Posted by Werekat View Post
    The rules my editors always gave me sounded like this: don't describe your own actions ("grinned cheekily at her" - whether it was "cheeky" is for Natalia to describe), don't describe the actual details of what happens - describe what the character notices, don't describe as if he's seeing himself from the outside - describe what the character sees.The exception to this is when the character's actually trying to notice what he's doing for some reason
    This is fantastic advice. I just want to argue one point... what if your character is deliberatly going for a cheeky grin? If they know that's what they're doing, why can't they describe it as such. For example, I know what my own 'cheeky grin' looks like. If I were going to write about me grinning cheekily at my husband, I wouldn't need him to describe it as being 'cheeky'. I know that's what I'm doing, and I know that's how it would come across.

    The exception that I can see is if you attempt a cheeky grin and it fails for whatever reason. Then I would say the character would need to describe seeing the person's adverse reaction and realisation that their cheeky grin failed. You only find out that it was meant to be cheeky as they muse on it and realise it wasn't.

    Quote Originally Posted by Werekat View Post
    The study of what exactly people focus on in combat is very interesting. There are two books available in English, both by Dave Grossman - "On Killing" and "On Combat," which describe the process in great detail, and I use them as a reference constantly.
    I might have to look them up

    Quote Originally Posted by Pisha View Post
    Heh, thanks. Hi, everyone!

    Ok... here's one I was working on for a new character of mine, a hobgoblin named Hakar. The game is set in Eberron; the tone is a little slow and introspective, but then again so is the character. (And yes, he really does talk like that.) Sorry if it's long.
    A hobgoblin paladin? I love it! (we had a hobgoblin npc for a while, I grew quite fond of him).

    Your first paragraph is just beautiful. One of the best I've ever read. First paragraphs are a right nuisance to write, I hate them with a passion, but that was fantastic. You give us all the information we need - we know we're in a bar or inn, we know something is up because she cannot see the character smile (somehow I knew it was male). And yet, there is something very sad in the writing. Something a little melancholy. It grabs you and makes you want to read the rest, to find out what's wrong.

    The description of Phut and Tuph is very cute too... probably because it reminds me of the half-orc/halfling friendship we had right at the start of our game (players were married and decided their characters knew each other).

    I like the way you describe him thinking and debating with himself to reveal their evil or not. You do a fantastic job of letting us know he's a paladin without ever coming out and saying it (except right at the end). You bring him right to the brink of being a Miko - and then ever so gently turn him write around. You also have made me very curious about the glowing and the fire and what the hang happened when they were prisoners.

    Very well done. I look forward to seeing more.

    Quote Originally Posted by Pisha View Post
    And in answer to the earlier question, I for one would like to see snippets from WoD!
    I second this. I have no idea what WoD is, but I'm still interested

    Also, just finished a snippet. I will say right now that I don't think it's very good, and I'm not happy with the ending. But I'm shattered right now (been a long week and I'm still at work), and I don't think I can make it better.

    Growing Pains
    or Mama, it's Time to Let Go

    Spoiler
    Show
    Lirrin came charging into the family room, waving a piece of paper above her head. She slapped it down on the table and announced

    “I know what I want to do!”

    As soon as she said that, I knew my baby girl had grown up and wasn’t going to take no for an answer. I felt my heart constrict as I picked up the paper she had laid on the table. I knew my daughter, and I knew that whatever she wanted to do would involve her standing in front of others and would likely get her killed.

    She has a big heart, my girl.

    I smiled at her, so young and so exuberant, and read the notice:

    Citizens of ‘Area’

    As you are aware, the Plague of Shadows has ended. For this, we thank the paladin Lord Lester, and the group known as The Celadians.

    This plague has taken a toll on all of us. However, we are all dependent on the protection and commerce generated by the city of Dandanagan. To ensure the survival of this city, we need replacements for members of the city guard lost to the plague. Therefore, we request that all willing citizens report to the Central Barracks in Dandanagan by ‘xyz date’.

    In serving your city, you serve us all.


    It seemed a little grandiose to me, but it had clearly captured Lirrin’s imagination.

    “You want to become a city guard?” I asked, a little baffled I’ll admit. I had pictured – well, more for my firstborn. She was so vibrant, so vital, so much in love with life. I had always imagined her leaving this village; but only so she could move on to bigger and better things. Leaving to join the city guard of Dandanagan? Not quite what I’d had in mind.

    “Absolutely!” she beamed at me

    “Why?” I asked the question a little more bluntly than perhaps I should have, as Lirrin gave me that hurt look that was so devastating when she was a child. “I’m not refusing you child, I’m just – curious. It’s not what I had expected from you.”

    She looks at me, puzzled

    “What do you mean Mama?” I sighed inwardly, taking care to hide it from her. How was I supposed to explain that I had always anticipated more from her without making it sound as though I was disappointed in her choice. There was nothing wrong with being a city guard after all.

    “You have such a thirst for adventure” I said finally. “I had expected that you would eventually leave to seek adventure and a fortune.”

    “But – being in the city guard will be an adventure!” Lirrin’s voice rose with excitement. “I’ve never been to a big city before, and there’ll be adventurers and temples and paladins and and maybe even-” her voice dropped to a whisper “the Celadians.”

    Ahhh, hero worship. It’s been a while since I felt that tug. I carefully laid the piece of paper back on the table.

    “Lirrin,” I started, very carefully keeping any concerns out of my voice. I could talk them over with Rikad later. “If this is what you want, then your father and I will support you as much as we can. All I can ask is that you take care of yourself – and, write us often?”

    Thank you Mama!”

    She beamed at me, and in two steps had pulled me into a massive hug. Great gods that girl is strong! Perhaps she’ll do better than I think.
    Last edited by Lady Moreta; 2010-10-07 at 11:21 PM. Reason: Added a snippet

  27. - Top - End - #147
    Dwarf in the Playground
     
    Griffon

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    Quote Originally Posted by Lady Moreta View Post
    A hobgoblin paladin? I love it! (we had a hobgoblin npc for a while, I grew quite fond of him).
    Our main D&D game has a goblin Arcane Trickster; after playing with him for over a year, any party without a "monstrous" PC just feels wrong!

    Quote Originally Posted by Lady Moreta View Post
    Your first paragraph is just beautiful. One of the best I've ever read. First paragraphs are a right nuisance to write, I hate them with a passion, but that was fantastic. You give us all the information we need - we know we're in a bar or inn, we know something is up because she cannot see the character smile (somehow I knew it was male). And yet, there is something very sad in the writing. Something a little melancholy. It grabs you and makes you want to read the rest, to find out what's wrong.
    Heh, well... thanks. *blushes* That's exactly what I was going for, I'm glad to know it came across!

    Quote Originally Posted by Lady Moreta View Post
    The description of Phut and Tuph is very cute too... probably because it reminds me of the half-orc/halfling friendship we had right at the start of our game (players were married and decided their characters knew each other).
    IRL, they're a brother-sister team. I was a little unsure of them at first, cuz they were the only players there that I'd never gamed with before, and because I'd never gamed with a kid before either (the player of Tuph is about 12 or 13), but they won me over in about 10 minutes. (Phut especially is hilarious - his player describes him as "The orc who was too stupid to know he's supposed to be evil.")


    Quote Originally Posted by Lady Moreta View Post
    I like the way you describe him thinking and debating with himself to reveal their evil or not. You do a fantastic job of letting us know he's a paladin without ever coming out and saying it (except right at the end). You bring him right to the brink of being a Miko - and then ever so gently turn him write around. You also have made me very curious about the glowing and the fire and what the hang happened when they were prisoners.
    Well, the prisoners thing doesn't really have a story behind it - Hakar and Tree were investigating some Big Bad Evil thing, and the Big Bad Evil found them first and captured them. Rescuing them was the plothook to get them introduced to the rest of the party. Given their respective backstories and their innate stoicism, I'm pretty sure they both consider it an embarrassing inconvenience more than anything else.

    As for the rest of it... yeah, without giving character secrets away, Hakar has some anger issues. He tends to roll a lot of self-imposed will saves, and the GM is fully aware that he'll need to prepare an Atonement side-plot for the day he inevitably fails one...

    I'm glad you liked it.


    Quote Originally Posted by Lady Moreta View Post
    I second this. I have no idea what WoD is, but I'm still interested
    WoD=World of Darkness. Another tabletop/LARP game, dealing with fantasy/horror themes in a modern, urban setting. Vampires, werewolves, mages, fairies, and even weirder stuff, although the flavor varies depending on the edition. My favorite game (and favorite character) comes from here.

    Quote Originally Posted by Lady Moreta View Post
    Growing Pains
    or Mama, it's Time to Let Go

    Spoiler
    Show
    Lirrin came charging into the family room, waving a piece of paper above her head. She slapped it down on the table and announced

    “I know what I want to do!”

    As soon as she said that, I knew my baby girl had grown up and wasn’t going to take no for an answer. I felt my heart constrict as I picked up the paper she had laid on the table. I knew my daughter, and I knew that whatever she wanted to do would involve her standing in front of others and would likely get her killed.

    She has a big heart, my girl.

    I smiled at her, so young and so exuberant, and read the notice:

    Citizens of ‘Area’

    As you are aware, the Plague of Shadows has ended. For this, we thank the paladin Lord Lester, and the group known as The Celadians.

    This plague has taken a toll on all of us. However, we are all dependent on the protection and commerce generated by the city of Dandanagan. To ensure the survival of this city, we need replacements for members of the city guard lost to the plague. Therefore, we request that all willing citizens report to the Central Barracks in Dandanagan by ‘xyz date’.

    In serving your city, you serve us all.


    It seemed a little grandiose to me, but it had clearly captured Lirrin’s imagination.

    “You want to become a city guard?” I asked, a little baffled I’ll admit. I had pictured – well, more for my firstborn. She was so vibrant, so vital, so much in love with life. I had always imagined her leaving this village; but only so she could move on to bigger and better things. Leaving to join the city guard of Dandanagan? Not quite what I’d had in mind.

    “Absolutely!” she beamed at me

    “Why?” I asked the question a little more bluntly than perhaps I should have, as Lirrin gave me that hurt look that was so devastating when she was a child. “I’m not refusing you child, I’m just – curious. It’s not what I had expected from you.”

    She looks at me, puzzled

    “What do you mean Mama?” I sighed inwardly, taking care to hide it from her. How was I supposed to explain that I had always anticipated more from her without making it sound as though I was disappointed in her choice. There was nothing wrong with being a city guard after all.

    “You have such a thirst for adventure” I said finally. “I had expected that you would eventually leave to seek adventure and a fortune.”

    “But – being in the city guard will be an adventure!” Lirrin’s voice rose with excitement. “I’ve never been to a big city before, and there’ll be adventurers and temples and paladins and and maybe even-” her voice dropped to a whisper “the Celadians.”

    Ahhh, hero worship. It’s been a while since I felt that tug. I carefully laid the piece of paper back on the table.

    “Lirrin,” I started, very carefully keeping any concerns out of my voice. I could talk them over with Rikad later. “If this is what you want, then your father and I will support you as much as we can. All I can ask is that you take care of yourself – and, write us often?”

    Thank you Mama!”

    She beamed at me, and in two steps had pulled me into a massive hug. Great gods that girl is strong! Perhaps she’ll do better than I think.
    I absolutely love this. If this is your example of "not very good," then I REALLY want to see your "better" work! Of course, I may be biased... I love slice-of-life snippets, where you get to see adventurers interacting with their families. The stuff that rarely gets a chance to come out in a regular game. I think you captured the bittersweet feeling of being proud of your child, while still fearing that their choices would get them killed, quite well. And then the odd sense of let-down, that the chosen dangerous profession wasn't quite as extreme as expected... it was cute, and very believable. I wanted to hug them both.
    Our Shadowrun game is pretty much one long string of bad ideas, fueled by enthusiasm.

  28. - Top - End - #148
    Ogre in the Playground
     
    BardGirl

    Join Date
    Aug 2010
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    Bunbury, Australia
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    Default Re: D&D Snippets

    Quote Originally Posted by Pisha View Post
    (Phut especially is hilarious - his player describes him as "The orc who was too stupid to know he's supposed to be evil.")
    Heehee, I can imagine it. I'd wondered, since their names are just anagrams of each other. There's just something about tiny halfling and giant half-orc that appeals to me. I keep picturing a half-orc with a halfling sitting perched on his shoulder.

    Quote Originally Posted by Pisha View Post
    As for the rest of it... yeah, without giving character secrets away, Hakar has some anger issues. He tends to roll a lot of self-imposed will saves, and the GM is fully aware that he'll need to prepare an Atonement side-plot for the day he inevitably fails one...
    Ahhh... yes I'd noticed there was a problem with anger. I thought you portrayed it very well. He sounds fascinating. I look forward to more writing featuring Hakar

    Quote Originally Posted by Pisha View Post
    I absolutely love this. If this is your example of "not very good," then I REALLY want to see your "better" work! Of course, I may be biased... I love slice-of-life snippets, where you get to see adventurers interacting with their families. The stuff that rarely gets a chance to come out in a regular game. I think you captured the bittersweet feeling of being proud of your child, while still fearing that their choices would get them killed, quite well. And then the odd sense of let-down, that the chosen dangerous profession wasn't quite as extreme as expected... it was cute, and very believable. I wanted to hug them both.
    Awwww thank you As I believe I've said elsewhere, I've had a really long week and am quite tired (and still at work. Boo ). I'm still not really happy with the ending, and I may yet change it. I struggled a bit with this one, but I promised milord Gareth that I'd do more of Lirrin's backstory. It was supposed to have been from her perspective, but it just wouldn't work. So I went with Mama. I have learned not to argue with the Bunny Rabbit Muse.

    And oh... why not? While I'm here, have the back story of Lyra, the character I'm working on for a PbP game.

    DISCLAIMER: If anyone from that recruitment thread should happen along, please don't read it. This backstory is different from the one I posted in the thread, and I don't want it spoiled.

    Lyra
    Spoiler
    Show
    Lyra is the daughter of a mother – and presumably a father, though she’s never known him. Lyra’s mother – Merith worked as a bartender in one of the more upmarket inns of City. As she tells the story, a roving bard came in one night, singing of love and the joy of making love. He seemed to be singing only to Merith. One thing then led to another, and Lyra was the result. Her mother was never bothered that the bard never returned, though was generally reluctant to talk about it.

    Only one thing marred the happiness of mother and daughter – Merith had a mental illness. She was prone to migraines and nausea. Even worse, she displayed wild and uncontrolled bursts of raw mental power. Lyra learned to recognise the warning signs at a young age, and grew adept at getting her mother out of harm’s way. She seemed unable to control these outbursts, and began insisting that she could hear voices. Visits to temples and churches, long consultations with clerics, the odd paladin, and even a wizard or two yielded nothing. Eventually, as word spread, and the clientele of the inn shrank, Merith was committed to an institute where she could be kept in safety.

    Lyra got into breaking and entering for fun, profit and excitement. Money is just a way of keeping score – although she’ll rarely say no to a shiny coin or sparkly gem. For her, it is about the challenge of getting in and out unseen, unheard, and unnoticed. Sometimes she won’t even steal anything. Sometimes she leaves a note instead (never very polite). Sometimes she takes an item, only to return it the following night. A few citizens of City have taken Lyra’s presence as a challenge, and created defences designed to keep her out. She has a measure of respect for these precious few, and sees it as a game they are playing. She will never steal from these citizens, but leaves notes instead – occasionally with advice on how to go about bolstering their defences next time.

    Lyra has always had very good instincts and a sort of sixth sense. She is popular with other thieves in the city as a lookout, for her seemingly magical ability to sense discovery. This is a problem for her. For years she has hidden the headaches, nausea and uncontrolled bursts of mental powers she apparently inherited from her mother. After one of these bursts resulted in destroying the mind of a friend, Lyra has redoubled her efforts both to control the affects, and hide them. She is too afraid to seek help from a cleric or wizard, for fear she will be locked away like her mother.

    Fortunately, she is extremely strong-willed, and has had some measure of success at controlling her unusual abilities. She has taught herself to control each ability as it manifests through the simple expedient of making herself scarce. However she is still terrified of what she can do, and will unleash even the controlled abilities only reluctantly. She prefers to rely on the roguish skills thieving and sneaking have granted her. She has learned to recognise the signs in herself of a new ability making itself manifest – nonetheless until she learns to control it, it is unpredictable and prone to shooting off without warning. Sometimes to the detriment of others, but more often to the detriment of Lyra herself.

    In fact, Lyra is so paranoid about someone finding out that she tries to pass off her abilities as spell casting. She carries a spell component pouch, rather obviously on her belt. Unfortunately for Lyra, she doesn’t possess a particularly good understanding of how magic works, so her attempts at deception are not always perfect. She can often been seen practicing hand movements, muttering ‘magic-sounding’ words under her breath, and pouring over components with a puzzled look on her face.

    The few people she trusts completely know the truth about her, and they too have learned to recognise the warning signs. Those two friends have learned the quickest and best ways to get her out of harm’s way (and everyone else out of her way). Unfortunately for Lyra, sometimes the quickest and best way is a sharp rap over the head with a stout stick. Anyone around her for long enough, and is familiar with spells, will probably start to realise that what she does doesn’t jell with actual spell casting.

    Lyra chose to leave City after the locals decided they didn’t appreciate her sense of humour, or her choice in games. One of her ‘regulars’ whom she was really very fond of, and suspected that he in turn knew who she really was, had left a note on the table when she broke in. It suggested that the local police were setting up an operation to catch her, by order of the council. It also suggested she might want to think about vacating the premises before this happened. Lyra had also noticed that two of the clerics who had tried to treat her mother seemed to be taking an almost obsessive interest in her. Prudence, at this point, suggested she leave town immediately. She promptly left the area and has since made her living working for the highest bidder.


    (Also, ignore the fact that her hometown is described as 'City'. I don't know enough about the setting yet to give it a name.)

  29. - Top - End - #149
    Dwarf in the Playground
     
    Griffon

    Join Date
    Oct 2010
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    Orlando, FL
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    Default Re: D&D Snippets

    Quote Originally Posted by Lady Moreta View Post
    Sometimes she won’t even steal anything. Sometimes she leaves a note instead (never very polite). Sometimes she takes an item, only to return it
    The city of Orlando would like to remind its citizens that breaking and entering is still a crime, even if you pay for the things you take.
    Our Shadowrun game is pretty much one long string of bad ideas, fueled by enthusiasm.

  30. - Top - End - #150
    Ogre in the Playground
     
    BardGirl

    Join Date
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    Bunbury, Australia
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    Default Re: D&D Snippets

    Quote Originally Posted by Pisha View Post
    The city of Orlando would like to remind its citizens that breaking and entering is still a crime, even if you pay for the things you take.
    Shush she knows that, she just doesn't care.

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