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  1. - Top - End - #91
    Barbarian in the Playground
     
    VonDoom's Avatar

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    Dining Hall

    While the last hand was being played, Shirvan had finally had an opportunity to snatch the scroll with the rules of the game for himself and studied it for awhile with a knitted brow.

    As the silver-haired one put the scroll away a smirk appeared on his lips and he seated himself, pulling the chair closer to the table.

    "Deal me in, then," he noted, finding that statement strangely appropriate. Once he had his hand and actually looked at it, a broad grin revealed itself on his face -- quickly replaced with a more neutral expression, however, as he glanced around.

    The Training Ground

    Shirvan grinned, baring white teeth at the woman sitting so prominently on his chest. His silver hair looked a bit tousled from their struggle, giving him a wild look; his eyes were still on her as she so teased him, only briefly side-tracking when the godling noticed some movement in a window from the corner of his eye, a form vaguely familiar watching them from above. Right now, he found he didn't care very much about who might be watching them, be it his dear sister or mighty Contragh.

    He said nothing as the light of the sun from above briefly reflected in his eyes, the gold within shining at Nieve for a moment as he pulled himself upward; blade at his throat be damned, a scratch could not dissuade him as he rose, nimble hands reaching for Nieve's waist.

    Before Dasque's Chamber

    Twice it knocked against the door to Dasque's own chamber, firm and in quick succession.

    On the other side, Shirvan pulled his hand back, a pensive look on his handsome face as the future God of Pride waited for his twin to respond.

    He, too, had looked forward to this day for some time and was glad to finally be away from their creator -- unlike his sister, however, this gladness was not born of an intrinsic loathing of Baz'Auran, for he too had once basked in and reflected his glory, but from betrayal; a test the golden-eyed godling had come to see as a slight to his person.
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  2. - Top - End - #92
    Ettin in the Playground
     
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    The Training Ground

    Since she couldn't very well follow through on her implied threat and cut her brother's throat, Nieve opted to push him back down by the simple expedient of kissing him. Forcefully. Thoroughly. Enthusiastically. Neither of them had to feign breathlessness by the time they broke off.

    "I think I have a proper punishment in mind," she said, now snugged firmly against his body—but only for a moment longer. She twisted free and sprang to her feet in a single sudden motion, coming to rest a few feet away with Shirvan's sword in one hand and his belt in the other. "More lessons! Real ones, I mean, with swordplay. I'm sure you can teach me more than how to take advantage of unsuspecting young maidens such as myself." She grinned slyly, and motioned for him to pick up the blade he'd dropped during their brief 'wrestling' game.

    "I suppose you'll need this back if you're to fight," she mused, looking at the belt in her hand. "Pity, I'd have liked to keep it as a trophy. I'll let you have it for now, but I warn you, I shall expect it back one of these nights." Another grin.
    Last edited by The_Snark; 2012-02-10 at 01:55 AM.
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  3. - Top - End - #93
    Ogre in the Playground
     
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    'Again!' Bellowed mighty Eliat, first among the hosts of Baz'Auran. The spirit of war flew at Carolinus, his sword a shimmering blur. With a great clash like celestial cymbals Carolinus brought his shield up and deflected the spirit's attack. To his left and right Eliat's subordinate spirits flew up practice dummies. Neither hit their marks. Carolinus deflected the spear of the one to his left with a tiny projection of his power, the exact required amount to deflect the spear's shaft so it missed the dummy's head by inches. The spirit to his right was harder, for it carried a two handed axe, he blocked it with a blunt warding, matching it strength for strength.

    He jumped back while doing this, narrowly avoiding Eliat's second strike. When the third came he wrenched it aside and caught hold of Eliat's swordarm. To his left the battle spirit had dropped his spear and pulled a sword from his back. His mistake was to lunge, once again it was easy to deflect the jabbing point aside. To his right the wicked axe swept down again but with the scant seconds he bought for himself by grabbing Eliat's arm he was able to block the attack more gracefully, a small sharp edge of a warding set before the sweep of the axe's haft sent the axe head spinning into the ground.

    Eliat dropped his sword and twisted his hand about, somehow Carolinus found himself sailing through the air. He twisted and landed on his feet, just in time for Eliat's charge. By diving aside at the last second Carolinus bought himself the split second required to glance at the dummies and their attackers, once again he threw up the weakest wards he could to stop the incoming weapons.

    Then he spun back to Eliat, just in time to block another thrust and launch a counter with almost got him disemboweled by Eliat's riposte. Eliat was so fast Carolinus usually had to block three of his strokes for each of his subordinates' attackers. When the third came Carolinus twisted Eliat's blade and disarmed him, behind his back both spirits found their swords once again confounded, leaving them wondering how he did it with his back turned.

    'That took you too long.' Was all Eliat said as he retrieved his blade. 'Five!' Another three war spirits approached another three dummies 'Begin!'

    ********************

    Eliat looked and spoke as if he had been walking amid the gardens as he intoned in damning words 'You're distracted godling. On the battlefield that will kill you.'
    In contrast Carolinus was covered in sweat and sucking in great gasps of air 'I'm not distracted, I'm angry. But I take your lesson Eliat, that too can kill me.'
    'You managed no more than eight today, normally you master all thirty. Your anger will not kill you, it will kill those you would protect.'
    'I will think on that.'
    'Why are you angry?'
    'Many reasons great Eliat. I am angry because I only managed eight today, because a score of godlings soon depart to the disk yet there is not space for one more, because others were permitted my great gift without price, because Cireo was not permitted to learn the martial arts, because this is the only time I am separated from her yet I cannot argue the necessity.'
    'It cannot be for you as it was the others. You are your Father's White Knight, the purity of your fidelity must be total.'
    'I know, yet I am angry because I must leave Cireo, that among all things. There are many reasons, all of them good and that one most of all, but all are irrelevant because you are right Eliat. My anger will break the fidelity of my oath, so I must also put anger aside, I must face what it coming without its purifying fire.'

    His face was a mask as he walked pass Shirvan and Nieve's embrace. Inwardly he seethed with jealousy and grief.
    Last edited by Ladorak; 2012-02-09 at 05:54 PM.
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    The Human Spirit also by KP. The Raynnverse lives!

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  4. - Top - End - #94
    Ogre in the Playground
     
    daelrog's Avatar

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    Dasque's Chamber

    Shirvan waited. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.

    The door open, and Dasque stood before him. She was shorter than him, a full head shorter to be precise, by she was similar to his features. The same hair, the same edge to the cheekbones. Some thought the same self-assuredness, but Dasque was willing to hide it under layers, to put it aside for her relationship with her siblings, something that had helped those relationships immensely.

    "Shirvan, a pleasant surprise. I was hoping to sit next to you at the banquet." She was dressed only in one layer, a short nightgown that covered her well. I think I had just figured what to wear for the occassion. I think I'll wear the dress that the First Spirit made for me... with an added improvement."
    Last edited by daelrog; 2012-02-10 at 02:19 AM.

  5. - Top - End - #95
    Bugbear in the Playground
     
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    The Shipyard
    The Weaver hid behind a pile of barrels as Rumel and Haramhold left for the dining hall. He smiled at Rumel's slight grumbling. If he didn't like the way the spirits were painting the ship, he should be thrilled when he saw The Weaver's sail flying proudly from the ship's mast. Dashing up onto the deck, The Weaver gave a nod to the spirits artfully embelishing the ship. "Beautiful work, my friends. Don't let Rumel's words discourage you. He'll come to realize the value of aesthetics in creation some day." With a wink, The Weaver carefully climbed the mast up to the crow's nest, the sail carefully held under one arm. Unfolding it, he made a few quick adjustments. The plain white sail that Rumel had wanted fluttered slowly to the ground, and the tapestry fell into the space it had formerly occupied. "There. Rumel's craftsmanship, Haramhold's dedication, and my eye for color. The ship is almost perfect. It just needs...a natural touch." The Weaver gazed off towards the forest where he had left Soreal, Jongo, and Fayruz. He sincerely hoped Soreal was alright. She seemed troubled, on the day she should be the happiest.
    Then The Weaver saw another sight. Carolinus, walking away from the training grounds. Even from this distance, The Weaver could feel the anger burning off his brother. It was worrisome. Almost as worrisome as the sight at the training grounds The Weaver chose to ignore. So many emotions running rampant today. He hoped the banquet tonight would go smoothly.
    Dining Hall
    The Weaver snuck into the kitchen via a back door. He wasn't afraid of his siblings, but he quite enjoyed the smells that Llassar and the culinary spirits conjured from biological stuffs. Which is why he was surprised to instead find Jongo. Making...something. "Hello again Jongo. Fancy seeing you here. Llassar finally cave to your constant pleas to help with dinner?" The Weaver stood behind his eldest sibling, and took a whiff of the creation upon the counter. Delicious, in an odd sort of way.
    ATTENTION ANYONE WHO I'M PLAYING WITH:
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  6. - Top - End - #96
    Orc in the Playground
     
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    Evening,
    on the way the Dinning Hall with Haramhold.

    Rumel got that glint in his eye again. His ever spinning, whirring, and calculating mind had stumbled on something. He started dashing full tilt in the direction of his personal workshop.

    You go on ahead without me,” Rumel yelled to his brother without turning, “I’ll catch up or something maybe-I-have-an-idea-I have-to-try-won’t-take-longbutyouknowhowthesethingsgo BYE!”.

    With a with a leap and a click of his heels, a set of wheels pop into place from the soles of Rumel’s boots. He skated along on his ‘emergency long-distance spatial repositioner MkIIIs’. Predictably, not having the grace of his more athletic siblings, he did not arrive at his destination so much as collide with it. A design flaw consistent in all models to date, but he couldn't spare a moment to look over his notes for the MarkIV model now.

    He had lamented there was no time to build his own ship, but he saw now those were the lamentations of a dullard! True, there was no time to build anything from scratch, but any witless drudge with the slightest imagination could look in here and see that was unnecessary!
    It was all in his workshop waiting for him. The large armored oval of his ‘Jongo-proof chemical locker MkXI’ would make an ideal hull! With the backfire compensators disabled, the ‘high yield refuse disintegration system MkII’ could operate as an effective thruster! Bits and pieces of various projects over the years could be fashioned quite handily into guidance apparatus!

    But he would have to be quick. Sadly, it would only be large enough for himself and maybe one other, but he’d feel much safer aboard Father’s insane Flying Coffin Made of Blasted Gold(why not build our blasted flying machine out of lead while we're at it?) with an emergency backup. Granted, said backup would have to be cobbled together in half an evening, held together with spare bolts, chewing gum, and the power of positive thinking, not to mention the 64.8173% likelihood the rig will violently explode on activation, but blast it all that’s a small price to pay for a little piece of mind!
    Last edited by DoomHat; 2012-02-10 at 04:03 AM.

  7. - Top - End - #97
    Bugbear in the Playground
     
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    Aramar sat at the table as the cards were dealt. Deal me in he says, eyeing the cards (and their dealer). As he is dealt the cards, he glances at them briefly, and there is a very slight shimmer in the air about him. Then looks up at the rest of the group. As I understand it, a run of five consecutive high cards is quite good he says, gesturing with his cards at the three (consecutive) cards laid out on the table.
    With only the slightest hint of a smirk, he pushes a good third of his chips into the center. Raise, anybody?
    Avatar by Sgt. Pepper
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  8. - Top - End - #98
    Barbarian in the Playground
     
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    Quote Originally Posted by THEChanger View Post
    Dining Hall
    The Weaver snuck into the kitchen via a back door. He wasn't afraid of his siblings, but he quite enjoyed the smells that Llassar and the culinary spirits conjured from biological stuffs. Which is why he was surprised to instead find Jongo. Making...something. "Hello again Jongo. Fancy seeing you here. Llassar finally cave to your constant pleas to help with dinner?" The Weaver stood behind his eldest sibling, and took a whiff of the creation upon the counter. Delicious, in an odd sort of way.
    The Grand Kitchen

    "Ah! Rodney!" Jongo spun on the stool he was sitting on. Looking up at her brother, Jongo grinned again, bemused.

    The spirits of the kitchen were busy, prepping for the Banquet. Not wanting to displease Father, Jongo had decided that the "Take-Over-the-Kitchen" plan would probably be only a good idea for a few minutes.

    So a few minutes was all Jongo had to put this plan into action. Giggling, he pointed at the counter, "Lookie lookie! Sammiches!"

    On the counter were what appeared to be sourdough dinner rolls. The centers, however, seemed to bulge, as though someone had carefully cooked something inside the bread. They smelled delicious. In an odd sort of way.

    There were ten of them. And other than the fact that they were separated on the baking slab in a well spaced fashion, it was hard to tell them apart.

    "I couldn't make a lot, because the Banquet is soon, but I thought a snack might be nice. For, you know, the people playing with the weird game that Lossethir made with the weird numbered shapes and things. And I was hungry too. So I had the spirits whip these up! And Llassar wasn't around to stop me, so I added a twist!" Jongo smiled a big smile, which usually meant that she was having fun... and could be trouble for someone.

    "Hey! Say! You can help me. I'm gonna close my eyes. Put those sammiches onto that plate there. And just tell me when you are done!" Saying that, Jongo spun around, back facing the counter. Placing both hands over his green and grey eyes, she scrunched her eyes shut, and waiting.

    "Are you done yet?"

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    These are NOT Sandwiches. They more closely resemble Kolaches. If you don't know what a kolache is, this is a good picture (warning, takes you away from GitP). They are bread with something filled inside, and generally are delicious.
    Last edited by Gengy; 2012-02-10 at 03:54 AM.
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    "Fear the Gerbils, lads! For they will destroy you!" ~ DOOM

    BladeofObliviom said:
    I've only seen a character at anything resembling this level of absurdity thrive exactly once, and he/she/what-the-jongo had the advantage of being written by Gengy, who I look up to as a writer.

    "What-the-Jongo?"
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  9. - Top - End - #99
    Ogre in the Playground
     
    Tectonic Robot's Avatar

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    Llassar - Dining Hall

    Llassar raised an eyebrow at his brother and sisters. "Alright, I think I get your game now." He stood up, swept his gaze back down, then leaned conspiratorially towards the group. "Do any of you know what this banquet if for, anyway?"
    Proud member of the Gnomish Wanderer fanclub!

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  10. - Top - End - #100
    Barbarian in the Playground
     
    VonDoom's Avatar

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    The Training Ground

    Nieve met her equal in enthusiasm in Shirvan; his breath hot, a low growl in his throat. Shirvan's firm body pressed against hers as he responded in kind, kissing Nieve with wild abandon, pulling her as much as she pushed him.

    Once they broke off and Nieve had snuggled against him, he stretched a little to accomodate her. "I have a few ideas, mysel-" Shirvan started to reply, his voice low as his right hand traveled up Nieve's back, seeking to trap her in the hug of his powerful arm; but then the woman was gone, and, not wanting to look the fool, he lowered his hands again and pushed himself off of the ground effortlessly.

    Apparently her light-born brother had little difficulties with his new distinct lack of belt, his clothes quite form-fitting and his pants not in danger of falling down anytime soon. "Oh," he said with slightly ragged breath still, his eyes smoldering with their intensity. "I certainly can, but are you sure you want to? It looks I've stolen your breath away, when you had just barely managed to catch it."

    Yet, even as he spoke mischief, Shirvan suddenly revealed a blade in hand -- Nieve's own training sword! That the godling had managed to keep track of it during their encounter on the ground and held it now seemed inconceivable, yet there it was.


    Dasque's Chamber

    "Sweet sister," Shirvan replied with a brief smile after Dasque had spoken her greetings, "you could dress in rags and would still stand as the most dazzling in the room." He looked her up and down briefly, then added. "Though I prefer you in your armor over rags, I think. It suits you well."

    The lean man leaned against the wall next to him, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he stood before the door; he had never asked to enter, and wouldn't, unless it was offered to him. "I wish it was over already," he began, changing the subject, "I can hardly wait to get going, courtesy of our dear father." An ironic smile was on his lips -- Dasque knew, for Shirvan kept little secrets from her, that the test placed upon him by their creator had left its marks, a wound of betrayal in her twin's heart, who had thought Baz'auran had taken him into his confidence. He had learned only too quickly that it had simply been another test.
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  11. - Top - End - #101
    Ettin in the Playground
     
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    He watched his two siblings leave the Court of the Stars and felt greatly disturbed.

    Jongo had been completely out of character and not at all what Khalen had been expecting. It had thought carefully and logically about its answers in the game, demonstrating a deep and piercing insight that was quite unknowable from his previous encounters with the creature. Yet it was the solemn speech from it at the end that had shaken Khalen to his very core, the final sentence echoing in his mind.

    “For everything must change. Even the stars. Even we must change.”

    Khalen hated feeling like this – confused, uncertain and unsure of even himself. He bowed in the direction of Father and left, his questions unasked. For how could Father help him if even he did not what was causing this crisis of faith?

    Descending the steps, he crossed the plaza to the Well of Eternity, the darkness within like a silent whirlpool. Khalen gazed down up on the Great Disk and watched it slowly turn against a backdrop of stars and oblivion. Why was the Great Disk so important? Why had Father entrusted it to them, when they were little more than children? What were they to do once they were there? Were they to ensure it remained forever unchanged as Father had left it? Were they to shape and twist it as each saw fit?

    Khalen began to feel dizzy and nauseous, his head beginning to ache as he slowly dropped to the ground.
    Quote Originally Posted by Dallas-Dakota View Post
    Succubus gets grongratulatory cookies from me. You have stepped into the realm of puns that only the likes of Death, Your Friend the Reaper have seen.

    Posting schedule likely to be erratic for the next few weeks - sorting out some personal stuff.

  12. - Top - End - #102
    Dwarf in the Playground
     
    shorewood's Avatar

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    Quote originally by Demidos
    Aramar sat at the table as the cards were dealt. Deal me in he says, eyeing the cards (and their dealer). As he is dealt the cards, he glances at them briefly, and there is a very slight shimmer in the air about him. Then looks up at the rest of the group. As I understand it, a run of five consecutive high cards is quite good he says, gesturing with his cards at the three (consecutive) cards laid out on the table.
    With only the slightest hint of a smirk, he pushes a good third of his chips into the center. Raise, anybody?


    Looking across the table at Aramar, Haramhold glances at his cards subtly smiling to himself. "Well my dear brother I'll meet that bet and raise you another ten."

    Haramhold was running out of chips and needed a big pot to stay in the game. This was as good as hand as any, so he decided to try his luck.
    Last edited by shorewood; 2012-02-10 at 09:46 PM.
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  13. - Top - End - #103
    Ogre in the Playground
     
    daelrog's Avatar

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    Dasque's Chamber

    Dasque smiled at Shirvan's flattery, the smile did not leave as he spoke of Father, but it became hollow. She unveiled a hidden lever to him as he stood there, and when he hidden door in the wall slid open, he saw an arrangement of her clothes, both formal and practical.

    She pulled out a stunning dress, shimmering, with long silk glvoes that matched. "Turn around Shirvan, I feel a spell of modesty come over me."

    She dressed if he turned his back, and held her ground otherwise, but either way responded. "Will it ever be over, Shirvan?" The question was pointed, and it was the most she had said against Bas'Auran to any of her siblings at any time.

  14. - Top - End - #104
    Ettin in the Playground
     
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    The Training Grounds

    "Well then, I have the perfect excuse!" Nieve said, twirling her sword idly. "If I lose I can blame it all on fatigue, and if I do well I shall be gracious enough not to mention it. Besides, I really ought to be working on my stamina. Don't you think?"

    Breathlessness aside, she did seem poised to fight: feet slightly apart, knees bent, blade just a flick of the wrist away from readiness. She bounced on the balls of her feet, brimming with energy despite what she claimed. Part of her was regretting breaking off that embrace, and she wanted a distraction to throw herself into.
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  15. - Top - End - #105
    Bugbear in the Playground
     
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    Quote Originally Posted by shorewood View Post

    Looking across the table at Aramar, Haramhold glances at his cards subtly smiling to himself. "Well my dear brother I'll meet that bet and raise you another ten."

    Haramhold was running out of chips and needed a big pot to stay in the game. This was as good as hand as any, so he decided to try his luck.


    Aramar smiled widely. This game promised to be good sport. Perhaps Haramhold would fold if he pushed harder, or perhaps not -- Haramhold had few opportunities remaining if he wanted to remain playing, insofar as Aramar had understood the game.


    "I'll match. Anyone else coming for the ride?"
    Last edited by Demidos; 2012-02-11 at 08:11 PM.
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    MethosH

    My Characters:
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    The Fortunar Base Class

    Completed Classes
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    The Hidden Word: An infiltrator with a wide range of abilities that works best in small teams. Tier 2-3

    Web-Spinner: A martial class based around using webs. Mid T3.


  16. - Top - End - #106
    Bugbear in the Playground
     
    THEChanger's Avatar

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    The Kitchen
    The Weaver smiled at Jongo's ridiculousness, but did as he was bid. Arranging the "sammiches" in a spiral pattern. "Jongo, if I may ask, why do you call me Rodney? That's not my name. I don't object terribly, but it is curious."
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  17. - Top - End - #107
    Barbarian in the Playground
     
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    The Grand Kitchen

    Jongo turned around, and smirked to see the 'sammiches' on the plate. Picking up the plate carefully in both hands, she carefully began walking towards the Dining Hall. Still, a question was asked...

    "Father created you. I won't disagree with the name He gave you. Never. But sometimes... sometimes it's fun calling people something that they know means them when it's not actually their name. It feels wrong, but feels right. It's outside the norm... until it becomes the new norm. The spirit who called himself 'Nyyck' taught me that. So I guess 'Rodney'..." Jongo looked up at his brother, before leaving the Grand Kitchen, "...is a Nyyck-name."

    The Dining Hall

    Coming from the Grand Kitchen, Jongo pushed the door open and seemed to be carrying a plate full of some delicious looking Rolls.

    "Ladies and Gentleman! My dear siblings. A gift for your game. And a game for your gift!" Jongo smiled a happy smile, and looked over at Rose. She'd like this.

    "From the Grand Kitchen, I have newly made sammiches. The game is called: 'What's in the Sammich?'" Jongo put the plate on the table, and let everyone look at it.

    "As you see, there are 10 sammiches. Inside is a tasty morsel, from the finest part of the Kitchen. Some are filled with yummy cream. Some are filled with scrumptious meats. One or two have something that the Spirits assure me were made by Llassar himself to be absolutely delectable."

    Nodding at the scarecrow of a Head Chef, Jongo continued, "But one. One of these near identical morsels has what I call... a Jongo Pepper. Very tasty. Very nice. You'll like it... at first. But then it changes. It doesn't become hot. It becomes scalding! You'll be begging for liquid in a matter of minutes, and you won't be able to taste anything else for at least an hour. I'm very proud of it."

    Giggling madly now, the little human child plopped on the ground and looked up at her siblings.

    "And the best part? Even I don't know which one of these sammiches has it! Brother Rodney put them on a plate, while I wasn't looking!" Jongo is excited. It truly is random this way. Talking quickly, as he normally does, she went on. "So... I see you are playing Lossethir's game. Who has the most... what are they? Chips? I propose they get the first pick. Luck favors them, because there are more GOOD sammiches. But the lowest chip holder picks last... or not at all, because the Jongo Pepper may have already been eaten!"

    Standing back up from the floor, Jongo dusted himself off, and grew a few inches, so that everyone could see her. It lasted only for a moment, but the change in size was noticeable, as was what sounded like Jongo's serious voice saying, "So what do you say? You're already testing luck through those little... cards? Why not test it a bit further?

    Or... are you afraid of a few consequences for your choices?"


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    Rules of play for this game are here. You can, of course, cheat... and risk going first.
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    "Fear the Gerbils, lads! For they will destroy you!" ~ DOOM

    BladeofObliviom said:
    I've only seen a character at anything resembling this level of absurdity thrive exactly once, and he/she/what-the-jongo had the advantage of being written by Gengy, who I look up to as a writer.

    "What-the-Jongo?"
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  18. - Top - End - #108
    Halfling in the Playground
     
    SamuraiGuy

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    Dining Hall

    "Now THIS is a wager I can get behind! Well played brother! To Jongo!"

    A flagon of Dragon's Breath was emptied. Pearly white teeth beamed as Brandis clasped his eldest sibling. And a stomach growled while he examined the tray. That, and his now non existent pile of chips.

    "Ah, well . . . Going all in seemed such a good plan at the time. A Jongo pepper, eh? That does sound like an adventure . . ."

    His voice was ever so close to holding a tinge of disappointment. Knowing his brother, this could very well be the only pepper of it's kind. And going last would make it ever too likely someone else might find it first.

  19. - Top - End - #109
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    Dining hall
    Frellon poured over the scroll of rules, sipping the ale the spirit had brought him. Eventually he rolles up the scroll and sets it to the side with a sigh, muttering under his breath. "I swear this game gets more complicated every time I play..."

    Frellon listened to Jongo's proposition and had to admit, it made the game more interesting. Nodding to himself, a smile broke through his face at the thought of someone eating such a pepper.

    Frellon leans forward, and addresses the dealer. "Deal me in on the next hand, please." He glances around at the other players, and their respective chip piles and faltered. "How do I get chips to start with?"
    Last edited by AntiMatter101; 2012-02-12 at 12:38 PM.
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  20. - Top - End - #110
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    Quote Originally Posted by AntiMatter101 View Post
    Dining hall
    Frellon poured over the scroll of rules, sipping the ale the spirit had brought him. Eventually he rolles up the scroll and sets it to the side with a sigh, muttering under his breath. "I swear this game gets more complicated every time I play..."

    Frellon listened to Jongo's proposition and had to admit, it made the game more interesting. Nodding to himself, a smile broke through his face at the thought of someone eating such a pepper.

    Frellon leans forward, and addresses the dealer. "Deal me in on the next hand, please." He glances around at the other players, and their respective chip piles and faltered. "How do I get chips to start with?"


    "Like so", says Aramar, flicking his wrist and causing a stack of chips to appear before Frellon. "The real trick is learning how to keep them there once you have them."
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  21. - Top - End - #111
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    The Well of Eternity

    The sky was full of stars, yet one shone brighter than the rest as it slowly tumbled downwards. The sand beneath his feet coarse and biting. He turns, looking this way and that, searching for something he cannot remember. Yet all he sees is the desert, stretching into eternity. He calls out, yet no-one answers.

    Feeling the beginnings of panic, he runs, blindly, calling out again and again for someone, anyone. He stumbles and falls. As he tries to stand, he sees something in the distance. A spark of light, like a candle flame, twisting and dancing. He blinks and the flame changes to a young woman, dancing. She is beautiful and enchanting. He blinks again and the candle flame returns.

    A dark wind blows across the sand and the flame is snuffed out. He turns to look at the source - a huge sword, its blade jet black, devouring the stars as it swings down towards him. Just as the blade is about to strike, a colossal stone hand bursts through the sand and grasps the blade, shattering it into a thousand pieces....


    Khalen awoke to find a spirit hovering over him, watching anxiously. He slowly got to his feet, grasping the edge of the well. The dream was vivid in his mind and Khalen knew that it was important. Yet his was a world of logic and order; he did not know what to make of it. He resolved to seek The Weaver. Perhaps he would be able to provide some answers.
    Last edited by The Succubus; 2012-02-13 at 07:23 AM.
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  22. - Top - End - #112
    Ogre in the Playground
     
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    Llassar stared as Jongo walked out of the kitchen with his bounty, his mind refusing to believe what it had just seen. Only when he started talking did Llassar realize that this was indeed happening, and the terrible repercussions of Jongo being alone in the kitchen. "By Ban'Auran, it'll be the starfish incident all over again!"

    Alright, well, Jongo had said The Weaver was there- Llassar had always like The Weaver. He'd known the value of a nice long sit under a big tree during a warm summer day. But if he had to choose a sibling to watch Jongo?

    Llassar was out of his chair in an instant. He but a foot on a chair and vaulted right over the table, running for the kitchen at a dead sprint, one hand keeping his straw hat clamped to his head.

    Throwing the doors opened, he screamed: "Status report! What are we missing!? Nothing's on fire, right?"
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  23. - Top - End - #113
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    The Weaver laughed as Llassar rushed into the kitchen. "Peace, brother, peace! Jongo found himself far too occupied with the creation of his sammiches to cause too much distruction in your kitchens. Most likely due to the fact the sammiches required very little of your supplies to make." The Weaver calmly placed the one stool out of place back where it belonged. "Come. Let us go see how our siblings fare with Jongo's wager. It should be quite amusing to see who pickes the Jongo Pepper." The Weaver leaned in confidentially to Llassar. "Part of me hopes it will be Lossethir." He whispered. "He might get up out of his chair for once."
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  24. - Top - End - #114
    Troll in the Playground
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    "I'll eat one...."

    Kalandor reaches down and grabs a sammich.

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    (1d10)[1]

    The Lucky one rolls A one.... Well, I wanted that I't is lucky.


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    And his face went. The brightest of reds, the only thing seperating him from a cartoon is the lack of fire and steam.
    "Houghi Siiiaagh!!!"
    And, If at all possible, that made it worse. But then again, anyone who eats chilli knows, dont breathe.... And then, to make matters worse, its an adaptive chilli made almost purely for the comedic effect of combining the effects of chilli and the ingesters powers...
    And Alan (The Spirit from before) laughs, clapping his hands on his legs "And to believe your the lucky one!" Roaring with laughter the spirit then says "Well, it really is BeLIEve!" The spirit slowly curling over, laughing at Kalandors plight and his own, not to good, joke.
    And the chilli finally links with his power, and it happens.
    It goes from his mouth to his hand, which goes bright red and somehow starts sweating, and the pewter mug of alcohol Kalandor was about to drink to deaden his nerves is suddenly slammed to the table to have his hand plunged in it.

    And that was just the start of a day that was (mostly) only going to get worse....


    "Ahh, my mistake. Well, I'll take that one first (The dentid one) if noone else takes it..."
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  25. - Top - End - #115
    Barbarian in the Playground
     
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    Quote Originally Posted by Erik Vale View Post
    "I'll eat one...."

    Kalandor reaches down and grabs a sammich.

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    [roll0]


    Frellon's attention shifted to Kalandor, whom he had been sitting next to, reaching for one of the 'sammich' rolls. Wait a minute..., he thought to himself. As Kalandor retracted his arm with the roll, Frellon neatly plucked it from his hand and deposited it back onto the serving plate.

    "Weren't you listening to Jongo, Kalandor? The winner of the card game gets to pick first! The runner up chooses second, and so on. We have to finish the game before we eat them." Frellon looks again at Kalandor, wondering if he had been drinking much before Frellon had arrived.

    His attention was returned to the roll he had whisked away from him. "Oh darn, I've gone and dented it." In his zeal to have what he saw as the rules of engagement upheld, It seems that Frellon had snatched the sammich a little too eagerly, his hand gripping it and breaking through the crust. Not enough to reveal it's contents, but enough to distinguish it from the others.

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    Last edited by AntiMatter101; 2012-02-13 at 09:18 PM.
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  26. - Top - End - #116
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    Steel Cathedral

    Looking at Frellon's obvious excitement and joy from the mark, Contragh could not help but grin and shake his head. "I'll never understand the pride and joy you hold in the marks you get from being wounded, they simply act as a permanent reminder of a failure or mistake." In truth, Contragh had simply accepted the healing and had be done with it. The quicker one healed, the quicker they could fight, and they quicker they could fight the quicker they could perfect themselves and hone their skills. Staring at the discarded sword Contragh realizes it would probably be a good idea to return his sundered axe to the bin so that it may be fixed.*

    Pardoning himself for a moment he runs back *to the discarded shaft and blade in order to return them to a bin. Returning to Frellon he sighs and plops himself down on the ground, turning his head towards Frellon he says "Tell me Frellon, why do you think Baz'Auran is sending us ALL to the disk? Certainly we would have to be there to defeat the beasts of chaos, Haramhold and Rumel to craft the world we claim, and Llasser to feed our loyal subordinates. But what of the likes of Jongo, The Weaver, and Rosellia? They would seem to be in danger more then they would be useful in providing anything. I know that Baz'Auran has a great and mighty plan that will make me feel stupid upon seeing it, but it does not make me stop wondering why?"
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  27. - Top - End - #117
    Barbarian in the Playground
     
    AntiMatter101's Avatar

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    Steel Cathedral

    Looking at Frellon's obvious excitement and joy from the mark, Contragh could not help but grin and shake his head. "I'll never understand the pride and joy you hold in the marks you get from being wounded, they simply act as a permanent reminder of a failure or mistake." In truth, Contragh had simply accepted the healing and had be done with it. The quicker one healed, the quicker they could fight, and they quicker they could fight the quicker they could perfect themselves and hone their skills. Staring at the discarded sword Contragh realizes it would probably be a good idea to return his sundered axe to the bin so that it may be fixed.*

    Pardoning himself for a moment he runs back *to the discarded shaft and blade in order to return them to a bin. Returning to Frellon he sighs and plops himself down on the ground, turning his head towards Frellon he says "Tell me Frellon, why do you think Baz'Auran is sending us ALL to the disk? Certainly we would have to be there to defeat the beasts of chaos, Haramhold and Rumel to craft the world we claim, and Llasser to feed our loyal subordinates. But what of the likes of Jongo, The Weaver, and Rosellia? They would seem to be in danger more then they would be useful in providing anything. I know that Baz'Auran has a great and mighty plan that will make me feel stupid upon seeing it, but it does not make me stop wondering why?"

    The Steel Cathedral
    Frellon brightens. "I like to have the scars because they do just that, they act as a permanent reminder of a mistake. If one forgets a lesson, what use is it? They also make great fodder for stories! It's a way to prove to mortals, just by looking at me, that I've been in fights and lived to tell of them!"

    *As Contragh grabs the rest of his former weapon, Frellon sits against the wall of the Cathedral, noting the other warriors sparring and training, content to just watch for now.

    When Contragh returns and asks his question. Frellon falls silent for several moments, obviously giving the question some thought. "I suppose the others each bring something unique to enrich the mortal races, without one there, all would be poorer for it." Frellon shrugged. "Thats what I seem to recall from the many lectures, but I cannot be sure."

    Frellon paused for dramatic effect, a grin creeping into his face. "Certainly they would be safer here in the White City," Frellon began, his eyes betraying a hint of mischievous humor, "but imagine how furious Jongo would be about having to remain behind while the rest of us explore the disk! And I doubt we could keep Rosellia away if we tried! She's much too clever, if she wanted to, I'm sure she could find a way to the disk."
    Last edited by AntiMatter101; 2012-02-13 at 10:55 PM.
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  28. - Top - End - #118
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    Mischief!

    As the poker game wound down and the assembled children of Baz'Auran prepared to risk their comfort on Jongo's creation, a shadow fell over the table. Before any greedy hand could reach for the sammiches, a thin, razor talon impaled the central sammich, releasing a spurt of rainbow oil that could only have come from the Jongo Pepper. Looking up with a start, the children saw Tezzerin looming over them, her eight wings shimmering like silver in starlight, the twinkle in her eyes struggling between amusement and irritation. A flick of her foot long claws, and the unlucky sammich dissipated into sparkling dust.

    "That's quite enough mischief for today, children. It would be unseemly for one of you to be afflicted with one of Jongo's pranks when the banquet begins. Now, prepare yourselves!"

    The Summons

    The blazing globe of the sun sank beyond the sight of the Well of Eternity, and as the children of Baz'Auran moved about their lives a single ringing peal echoed through the air. The sound faded, and for a moment the silence hung, as fragile and delicate as the purest glass. Then the glass shattered, as the bells in the Towers of the Most High answered their brother, great slabs of gold and silver and bronze resounding in a mighty chorus that summoned all to the Court of Baz'Auran, to the banquet that had been at the forefront of so many minds.

    As the children of Baz'Auran entered the vast chamber, they saw the space had been filled with long tables of gleaming crystal, crowded with Spirits of the Highest Circle. There were thousands of them, tens of thousands, all their eyes staring expectantly towards the approaching godlings. Before the dais rose a great semicircular table, runes of power sparkling along its side, the chairs around it empty in anticipation of the children. At either side of the towering throne of Baz'Auran sat Tezzerin and Eliat, resplendent in their glory undiminished. But not even the greatest of the Spirits could match the blazing power of Baz'Auran. His unbridled might wreathed him in a shifting garment of grey flame, flame that still paled in comparison to the shining glory of his eyes. Seeing the children, the Spirits of the Highest Circle rose in reverence, and Baz'Auran gestured to the table that had been prepared.

    "Welcome, my children. Sit, for we have much to discuss."

    His voice was barely more than a whisper, yet it sent a tremor through the air. The children had never known their father to raise his voice beyond that whisper, for his power was so great as to make even his voice a tool of creation and destruction. The sound lingered for long moments, but eventually it faded as chalices of ambrosia rose from the assembled tables, accompanied by long platters piled high with the bounty of the White City. Before the Spirits rose only the shining fruits of the City's garden, sprinkled with dew that had been masterfully joined with the essence of Joy. Yet the godling children of Baz'Auran were of a different ken, and before them the platters of fruit were flanked by steaming platters of choice meats, some glistening with barely contained juices, others glazed in wafer thin crusts of Delight and Expectation. Yet upon the dais, the ruler of the White City was sated with a simple cup of Possibility, held by his beloved cup bearer. In silence, he awaited the questions that were sure to come, apparently ready to reveal the full extent of his childrens' mission.
    Last edited by TheDarkDM; 2012-02-14 at 05:48 AM.

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  29. - Top - End - #119
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    The Training Grounds

    "Oh?," Shirvan replied, amused even as his keen eyes took note of Nieve's state. He himself was not one for regrets, but the arousal still burned within and made certain that the fellow goddesses' curves proved quite a distraction. Still, to love, to fight, was it not all the same to a creature of such passions as the Silverhair? "You think it a matter of winning or losing, do you?"

    Chuckling briefly, the honey-eyed man suddenly leaped forward, his blade rushing with a quick swipe toward Nieve's beautiful face; a feint! With a sudden twist, a shift of weight, Shirvan cut his jump short, bent his legs and rather came from beneath with a swift, straight stab.

    "When it comes to practice, I find it better when all involved win!" And in other things as well, but too much tongue-waggling in combat could prove a dangerous distraction.

    Dasque's Chamber

    Shirvan would have raised an eyebrow, but he had learned not to question the strange fancies that took his sister at times. They had been made from the same light, had they not? Witness to each other's creation, there was nothing beneath those clothes that he had not already seen. Had some of the other children of Baz'Auran infected her with their strange inclinations towards shame?

    Still, he turned. It was but a simple request, after all. "All things must end, eventually. A creator might outlive its creation, but the same holds true for the opposite. Only time will tell." An honest response, but also a harsh truth; Shirvan was not one to speak false assurances to his twin sister.
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  30. - Top - End - #120
    Barbarian in the Playground
     
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    The Banquet

    Jongo was disappointed that no one got to taste the Jongo Pepper. All that work!

    But Tezzerin had come in, looked at the plate, and simply... smashed it! That was almost worth it.

    And now they were all here, in the Court, and Father was here, and the Ceiling...

    Jongo sat in his chair, and just looked up at the Ceiling. It was magnificent. The ever swirling change fascinated Jongo. She couldn't believe that this was the last time that they all might be in this room for, well, weeks! Months! Maybe even a year or more!

    Being away from the Ceiling of Baz'Auran - from the White City, and all of it's neat tricks - was going to be tough.

    Jongo just sat, and stared. Going into an almost trance. Absentmindedly, Jongo picked up and chewed an Apple.

    It... it was the most delicious Apple Jongo had ever tasted. Sweet, succulent, and dribbly, but not so much that the child form that Jongo wore today couldn't lick the juices afterwards from his lips. It was so good, it brought Jongo out of her reverie with the Ceiling, long enough to ask a question.

    "Father, are there Apples like these on the Disk?"
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    "Fear the Gerbils, lads! For they will destroy you!" ~ DOOM

    BladeofObliviom said:
    I've only seen a character at anything resembling this level of absurdity thrive exactly once, and he/she/what-the-jongo had the advantage of being written by Gengy, who I look up to as a writer.

    "What-the-Jongo?"
    Before you insult someone, walk a mile in their shoes.
    That way, you'll be a mile away, and have their shoes!
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