D&D Snippets

[Lady Moreta]

Originally Posted by Machuchang

Well, I guess I finally got my answers. They made me really sad though...

But really, excellent job. The narrative voice was very well done, and Lyra's personality was prominent, as it should be. I loved how it hinted at past events throughout, and I was very curious about how that whole confrontation got started, and am even more curious as to the exact nature of Lyra's condition. I'm really looking forward to more!

I'm sorry! He's still not dead you know :-P

I don't even know how that confrontation started, so your guess is as good as mine!

Wait. Yes I do. I just haven't written it yet.

Originally Posted by Machuchang

And since I just love to participate so much, I have another snippet. With a NEW CHARACTER! You guys were probably getting sick of Varen and Natalia anyway.

Never! But new characters are always fun

Originally Posted by Machuchang

Anyway, I now proudly introduce to you Abigail Weathers, Witch Apprentice!

Oh, I like her She's adorable, and Gramma is terrifying. She strikes me as a real innocent, or perhaps just a little bit naive. But I love the way you take the stereotypical witch and make them so very real. Loved it

Originally Posted by Machuchang

And with that, I'm afraid I'm going to have to leave you guys for a while. School seems intent on keeping me busy, and college application due dates keep getting closer and closer. And I'm not very far as of yet...

Awwwww First Teej, and now you... Darkpuppy and I are gonna be left all alone... We'll miss you.

On the other hand, with less people posting, I might be able to get the catalogue done...

[big teej]

Originally Posted by Lady Moreta

Awwwww First Teej, and now you... Darkpuppy and I are gonna be left all alone... We'll miss you.

On the other hand, with less people posting, I might be able to get the catalogue done...

you called?
my computer stopped hating me.

no down time for you!

in fact, after I finish registering for classes, I believe I have another snippet... an idea has begun to congeal in my mind.

also, off topic

Spoiler

Lady Moreta, how do you link to a post like that in your sig? I wanna save that 'teej is a badass' comment... it makes me happeh

[Lady Moreta]

Originally Posted by big teej

you called?
my computer stopped hating me.

no down time for you!

Yay! What? it's not like I actually wanted any down time.

I have the catalogue up to date (did it last night) I just have to write blurbs and format it for the Tav er Playground... and possibly find a nice friendly neighbourhood mod to edit the post for me, since I have a feeling it might not let me any more.

Originally Posted by big teej

in fact, after I finish registering for classes, I believe I have another snippet... an idea has begun to congeal in my mind.

I don't know why... but there is just something so utterly - gross, about the concept of something congealing in one's mind. It's just bringing to mind all sorts of nastiness I'm picturing congealed food, only in one's head...

Helpful help:

Spoiler

What you need to type is: [url="*your url here*"]*your text here*[/url] (just take out the italics, that was just to fool the system into not turning it into a link.)
So it'll look like this: Teej is a badass
Also off topic, can I steal the 'the Lady Moreta' comment. I likes having a reputation

[big teej]

Originally Posted by Lady Moreta

Yay! What? it's not like I actually wanted any down time.

I have the catalogue up to date (did it last night) I just have to write blurbs and format it for the Tav er Playground... and possibly find a nice friendly neighbourhood mod to edit the post for me, since I have a feeling it might not let me any more.

good to know

whats tav?

and I'm sure a mod will be more than willing to help organize that (hopeful hopeful hopeful)

Originally Posted by Lady Moreta

I don't know why... but there is just something so utterly - gross, about the concept of something congealing in one's mind. It's just bringing to mind all sorts of nastiness I'm picturing congealed food, only in one's head...

heh oops /lie

when I use the term 'congeal' in that sense, I mean in the sense that details have started to stick, and the idea is taking a definite useable shape/form.

for instance, all thats really pending on the Gideon snippet is time to sit down and right it.

Originally Posted by Lady Moreta

Helpful help:

Spoiler

What you need to type is: [url="*your url here*"]*your text here*[/url] (just take out the italics, that was just to fool the system into not turning it into a link.)
So it'll look like this: Teej is a badass
Also off topic, can I steal the 'the Lady Moreta' comment. I likes having a reputation

yay!
and of course you may.

[big teej]

I'm kinda frusterated here....

I'm working on Gideon's snippet and I've written a good 2 pages and going strong on the 3rd.... and I'm just not happy with it... the general idea behind it has stuck and I'm happy with that, but I am not pleased with the execution...

has anyone else had an experience like this? if so, what did you do?

I'm torn between finishing it out and posting it anyways then rewriting it... or just tearing it apart and trying all over again
or both
or
or

I don't even know.

help/ideas/suggestions?
does somebody wanna see what I have so far so I can get some feedback? (I'll PM cause I only wanna put up a finished work)

grr......

[Lady Moreta]

Originally Posted by big teej

whats tav?

The Mallorean Tavern - my other forum. I keep getting the two muddled up in my head.

Originally Posted by big teej

when I use the term 'congeal' in that sense, I mean in the sense that details have started to stick, and the idea is taking a definite useable shape/form.

I know it's just a very evocative word and my brain is weird.

Originally Posted by big teej

I'm kinda frusterated here....

I'm working on Gideon's snippet and I've written a good 2 pages and going strong on the 3rd.... and I'm just not happy with it... the general idea behind it has stuck and I'm happy with that, but I am not pleased with the execution...

has anyone else had an experience like this? if so, what did you do?

Constantly. Chuck it and start again.

That's the short answer. The long answer is a bit more complicated, and it depends on the nature of the problem - and is also spoilered for length.

Spoiler

Is it that the story is trying to tug you off in a different direction to the one you intended? Or is it just that it doesn’t seem to say what you want it to, or it feels clumsy or just badly written?

If the former – let the story go where it will. Don’t try and fight it. I have this problem every single time I write anything that has Lyra in it. She is a stubborn little rogue and she consistently refuses to go where I want her to. When I write I always have a rough idea in my head of where the snippet is meant to go, and generally of how I want it to get there. With Lyra, I can’t do that. She may be a figment of my imagination, but that girl has a mind of my own. I don’t think any one of the snippets with her in them have ended the way I meant them to. And most of them have gotten to the ending not in the way I intended. With Lyra, I have learned to just let her go where she wants.

If it’s the latter – then yeah, chuck it and start again. Go over it and see if you can pinpoint where you stopped being happy with it. You might be able to keep the start and still use it. I wouldn’t through it out or delete it outright though. Open a fresh file and start again, but keep the original, you may find that you need it, or that you like it after all and want it back. I make it a policy to never delete anything if I think I may want it again later. (Of course, this is why I have so much crap saved on my hard drive.)

If you like the idea, think about how you plan to get there. How is it meant to end? How can you get it to that place? That’s what I usually do when something just won’t write the way it’s meant to.

Originally Posted by big teej

help/ideas/suggestions?
does somebody wanna see what I have so far so I can get some feedback? (I'll PM cause I only wanna put up a finished work)

grr......

Send it to me if you want I don't mind taking a look.

[big teej]

Originally Posted by Lady Moreta

.

Spoiler

Is it that the story is trying to tug you off in a different direction to the one you intended? Or is it just that it doesn’t seem to say what you want it to, or it feels clumsy or just badly written?

If the former – let the story go where it will. Don’t try and fight it. I have this problem every single time I write anything that has Lyra in it. She is a stubborn little rogue and she consistently refuses to go where I want her to. When I write I always have a rough idea in my head of where the snippet is meant to go, and generally of how I want it to get there. With Lyra, I can’t do that. She may be a figment of my imagination, but that girl has a mind of my own. I don’t think any one of the snippets with her in them have ended the way I meant them to. And most of them have gotten to the ending not in the way I intended. With Lyra, I have learned to just let her go where she wants.

If it’s the latter – then yeah, chuck it and start again. Go over it and see if you can pinpoint where you stopped being happy with it. You might be able to keep the start and still use it. I wouldn’t through it out or delete it outright though. Open a fresh file and start again, but keep the original, you may find that you need it, or that you like it after all and want it back. I make it a policy to never delete anything if I think I may want it again later. (Of course, this is why I have so much crap saved on my hard drive.)

If you like the idea, think about how you plan to get there. How is it meant to end? How can you get it to that place? That’s what I usually do when something just won’t write the way it’s meant to.

Send it to me if you want I don't mind taking a look.

long story short, its a combination of............most/all of these things

there was ALOT more to this response, but I figured since I'm about to send you what I have in a PM, I'll just copy paste over what I had typed here.

I really appreciate you willing to help me with this

[Lady Moreta]

I finally replied to you!

Also, I have snippets waiting in the wings for me to write

[darkpuppy]

I also have an idea waiting to grow into a snippet (using some characters from my OU final assignment, HM 1st Clockwork Irregulars... well, a pair of them, anyways), but it has to wait until I've slept. I am stupidly tired. :(

[big teej]

at the risk of not having all of THE Lady Moreta's suggested revisions in place, I present to the playground my latest snippet, the first to actually take more than a single sit down to complete.


I present to the assembled pixies-titans of the playground -

Gideon's Tale (or, Why My Knight Doesn't Have a Horse)

enjoy.

Spoiler

Gideon’s tale…


As a newly spurred knight, I had been issued with armour and weapon, along with a mount and lance. I had decided to start my quest for glory by heading towards the city of Andor, I found it likely that within its walls I could find compatriots with which to adventure and earn fame for myself. Even if lacking in potential comrades-in-arms, surely someone within a city of this size would have use for a knight.

I was travelling through the mountains near Andor, when I rounded a bend in the path and saw before me a band of ruffians dressed in leathers and looking down the path towards me expectantly.

“Oh goodie” I mumbled to myself, disdainful of the idea of sullying my weapons with the blood of these wretched rapscallion – for surely these were mountain men, intent upon lightening passerbys purses.

I prod my horse forward, taking heart in looking at things in a new light “ ah well, at least this will be a good workout eh Star?” My horse snorted beneath me and tossed his head as if in contempt. I chuckled to myself. The bandits, for surely this is what they are, had begun to pick themselves up from the dirt and ready themselves. One of them sticks out to my eyes, he wears a silver metal mask of a design I am not familiar with. He carries two hookswords as well as an oversized spear I am unfamiliar with. He appears to be the leader, or at least a man of import amongst these thieves, as he directs their movements with curt words and an aura of command.

A wretch steps forward as I bring Star up short several horselengths from the group. “good day sur, could ye perheps spare sum coin for a man down on ‘is luck?” I notice the slightly rusted and heavily notched axe upon his back, and the gold hoop in his ear. “I’m afraid not my good man, I’ve barely a pence to my name, and that must first go to my horse.” The man replies, “surely good sir, as a blessed knight, fortune rides with ye, and you can surely spare something for the likes of us.” I grow tired of this charade, many of the members of the group are anxiously fingering weapons. “I am afraid that all I have for you is either kind words, or a swift death. I ask that you please stand aside.” The bandit grins evilly, revealing crooked and broken teeth “now there’s no need for talk like that milord.. heh heh heh” he backs towards the group, keeping a wary eye on me (as well he should, insignificant peasant). As he reaches the main group he draws his axe and rolls his arm around to loosen it.

I scan the crowd, looking for any amongst them who are worthy of my steel. I find them wanting… I shall have to educate them on the folly of accosting a knight in this manner. I spread my arms out wide, shield strapped to one, lance held in the other. I raise my voice in the manner I was taught. My voice drops several octaves, into a tone of command, one that demands attention, regardless of its audience. a voice thata can be heard ringing over the chorus of battle, of steel on steel, of metal cruncing into bone and the sound of flesh being sliced to pieces…
“I am a humble worshipper of sigmar, a knight who rides in his name.” I announce in this voice. “I have no quarrel with thee, but if you do not stand aside, surely it shall mean your deaths.” I pause just for a moment.
I am known to the creatures of this world as Gideon, the rolling thunder of the mountain peaks. Knight of the Order of the Hammer-Commet. I give you one last chance to save your lives, or feel my wrath.” I chuckle inwardly, ‘may as well start making a name for myself’ I think to myself.
[SIZE=”1”] The fact my monicker as ‘rolling thunder’ came as much from my belly and my snoring just as much as the sound of Me charging down a foe is irrelevant….[/size]

My piece said, I clap down my visor and walk Star back in a circle, adding several more horse-lengths between myself and the mob. They seem angered by my words, angered, arrogant, and ready for a fight.
Good….
The mob begins to move forward, moving slowly but picking up speed, obviously intending to bowl over my mount and I through overwhelming numbers.
They’ve obviously never seen what happens when armoured cavalry charges foot troops – another lesson I must teach them.
I spur star into a trot; picking out my targets and planning a path through the group. I see the man with the silver mask hanging back from the crowd, holding his massive spear. He seems confidant – overly confidant.
“well I’ll fix that right now!”

I dig my spurs into Star’s flanks, driving him to a full length sprint. The sound of his hooves echo through the mountain air, like rolling thunder, a storm gathering on the horizon. I lower my lance and couch it beneath my arm. I begin to make the thousands of minute adjustments necessary to bring the tip of my lance through the chest of my target, and the man beyond him – and mayhap the man beyond that. My lance points directly at some poor sod in the front of the mob, driving towards him like a thunderbolt. Closer…..

Closer…

The bandits are but a few strides from me now….

Time slows down and seems to speed up all at once. I continue to adjust the aim of my lance, keeping it in line with the man’s chest. I see many of the bandits begin to draw back their arms, preparing to swing…

Hoofbeat

Out of the corner of my eye, I see the man with the mask attaching a length of chain to an apparatus on his upper arm…. Curious.. the other end seems attached to the blunt end of the spear…

Hoofbeat.

Impact!

In a riot of sound, screaming, and the crunch of flesh and bone, my charge connects with the mob of bandits. My lance punches through the chest of the man I aimed for, as well as the 3 men behind him – 4 men in one charge- I gloat. I let the lance fall from my hand as their blows rain down upon me. Axes, swords, spears, they all glance away from my armour and shield. I rear Star back, having him lash out into the press with his hooves. As he breaks bones beneath his mighty legs, I reach across my back and grab my battle axe (mounted combat against knaves such as these is not task for my hammer). I begin to reap, spurring Star onwards, driving him to lash out at the mob again and again whilst I scythe my axe back and forth through the bandits, felling at least a man with every blow.
After an eternity that lasted only seconds I break through the trailing end of the mob and slow to a cnater. Star is lathered in sweat and pants beneath me. My axe is covered in gore, and I keep an eye on the man in the mask as I turn to survey my handiwork.

There are few bandits left alive, a wide swathe of destruction marks my passage. The remaining bandits do not look very intent on approaching me through the lane of human slush I have created; Even if I were to turn my back.

Acknowledgeing my victory, I walk Star back amidst the human wreckage and pluck my lance from the dirt. I turn towards the leader, the man in the mask, and say to him “surely it is folly to continue this massacre. Allow me to pass and the rest of you may keep your lives.”

I hear a strange choking sound coming from behind the mask, which has a grate across the mouth. After a moment I realize this insolent peasent is LAUGHING!

“if you be so brave, sir knight” he rasps from behind the mask, “face me. Ride me down as you did my men.”
I am more than happy to oblige. I spur star back into a gallop, quickly covering the ground between me and the man in the mask. He does not panic, he merely picks up his oversized spear, hefts it over his shoulder and with a mighty heave and a grunt of effort hurls it at me…

The oversized spear crunches into Star’s chest - completely destroying his momentum and sending us both crashing to the ground. I land hard and bounce… twice. I struggle to my feet and turn to observe the tragedy that I know has occurred.

My horse, Star, lies upon the ground; drenching it with his life’s blood. The oversized spear sticks out of Star’s ruined chest. I turn to face the man in the mask, who is winding in the chain attached to the spear, drawing out from my mount’s chest, along with the majority of his innards.

I take stock of my own situation: bruised? Oh certainly. Anything broken? Only my heart. My weapons and gear? Anything not crushed by Star should be fine, my lance is ruined (I landed on it). The rest of my equipment is in passable shape for the task at hand, though my axe is somewhere near the cliff face.

I ignore the grief, that can come later. Death before dishonor. I speak to the man “ye killed my horse.” I state plainly. He winds in the rest of the chain and yanks the oversized spear from Sar. “ye killed my men” he says, mocking my speech.

The fool does not understand. I am a Knight. I. need. My. Horse.

I draw my hammer.

I stride towards him, fury threatening to overcome my self control.
YOU
KILLED
MY
HORSE!!!

I cover the remaining distance in three long strides, hammer raised to dash out his brains upon the earth. He blocks my swing with his spear, but I break several of his fingers as the hammer skids down the length.

I hook my weapon under his and pull, tearing it from his grasp as he fumbles around his pockets for something. He finds it before I can put him down. He laughs that metallic rasp again and throws it at the ground at my feet, it explodes into a blinding cloud of smoke, completely obscuring him…

When the smoke clears, he is gone….

The sun will be setting soon, I turn and admire the beautiful vista before me with ashes in my mouth. I see Andor on the horizon, and a small town much nearer to me, I should be able to make it there by nightfall….


I will find you, man in the mask, and I will kill you.

[Lady Moreta]

Originally Posted by big teej

I present to the assembled pixies-titans of the playground -

I'm a bugbear and you're a barbarian for that matter...

Anyway! You already know I like this

I think the second half is much better than the first, mostly because it's funny. I love the "ye killed my horse" / "ye killed my men" exchange. And "The fool does not understand. I am a Knight. I. need. My. Horse." is also wonderful.

To answer the question you had about speech and paragraphs, I shall show you

You had:

Spoiler

Originally Posted by big teej

A wretch steps forward as I bring Star up short several horselengths from the group. “good day sur, could ye perheps spare sum coin for a man down on ‘is luck?” I notice the slightly rusted and heavily notched axe upon his back, and the gold hoop in his ear. “I’m afraid not my good man, I’ve barely a pence to my name, and that must first go to my horse.” The man replies, “surely good sir, as a blessed knight, fortune rides with ye, and you can surely spare something for the likes of us.” I grow tired of this charade, many of the members of the group are anxiously fingering weapons. “I am afraid that all I have for you is either kind words, or a swift death. I ask that you please stand aside.” The bandit grins evilly, revealing crooked and broken teeth “now there’s no need for talk like that milord.. heh heh heh” he backs towards the group, keeping a wary eye on me (as well he should, insignificant peasant). As he reaches the main group he draws his axe and rolls his arm around to loosen it.

It should look like this:

Spoiler

A wretch steps forward as I bring Star up short several horselengths from the group.

“Good day sur, could ye perheps spare sum coin for a man down on ‘is luck?” I notice the slightly rusted and heavily notched axe upon his back, and the gold hoop in his ear.

“I’m afraid not my good man, I’ve barely a pence to my name, and that must first go to my horse.” The man replies,

“Surely good sir, as a blessed knight, fortune rides with ye, and you can surely spare something for the likes of us.” I grow tired of this charade, many of the members of the group are anxiously fingering weapons.

“I am afraid that all I have for you is either kind words, or a swift death. I ask that you please stand aside.” The bandit grins evilly, revealing crooked and broken teeth

“Now there’s no need for talk like that milord.. heh heh heh” he backs towards the group, keeping a wary eye on me (as well he should, insignificant peasant). As he reaches the main group he draws his axe and rolls his arm around to loosen it.

[lord pringle]

Hey, Moreta should I write more about Tanner or start Eric the Red

[Lady Moreta]

Hey, it's you!

Well, I would say you should write about who you want to write about, but since you asked, I'd love to see more of Tanner. He was cute and funny

[big teej]

Originally Posted by Lady Moreta

I'm a bugbear and you're a barbarian for that matter...

I meant pixie-titans as inclusive between the two,

Originally Posted by Lady Moreta

I think the second half is much better than the first, mostly because it's funny. I love the "ye killed my horse" / "ye killed my men" exchange. And "The fool does not understand. I am a Knight. I. need. My. Horse." is also wonderful.

To answer the question you had about speech and paragraphs, I shall show you

-snip-

oooooooooooooh

that makes way more sense now

you kept saying "new speech" and I was going "but nobody's giving a speech!" >.< -teej does not understand!!!-

but now I get it

thankyou much.

[lord pringle]

Up soon will be tanner part 2: hiring montage.

[Lady Moreta]

Originally Posted by big teej

I meant pixie-titans as inclusive between the two,

Didn't realise pixies and titans were the two extremes. Haven't really paid that much attention to them

Originally Posted by big teej

oooooooooooooh

that makes way more sense now

you kept saying "new speech" and I was going "but nobody's giving a speech!" >.< -teej does not understand!!!-

but now I get it

thankyou much.

Yes, I'm sorry. I fail at explaining

I should have said that every new line of speech needs to be a separate paragraph. If one character starts to speak, then you go off into some description of how he's talking, and then he speaks some more - that's fine as one paragraph. As soon as a new person starts to talk, new line.

Sometimes I'll do a new line even if it's the same person talking. If whatever decriptive/non-speechy stuff ends up being more than two or three lines, before they go back to talking, I'll tend to put the new stuff as a new paragraph. Makes it easier to read.

[Marillion]

I return!

But not with a story about Raphael. It's turned out to be a bit harder to recount that story than I though.

So instead, I present some snippets for games that, sadly, never got off the ground. I wrote them well over a year ago and just stumbled upon them again. Enjoy!

Magaska, called Venomwind
or, Would You Kiss Your Father With That Mouth!?

Spoiler

Mag grunts as his punch lands in her gut. She tries to strike back, but her opponent is already out of reach. Out of reach, and out of sight. She is shoved from behind, and she very nearly falls over, but rolls at the last second and rights herself. Spinning around with a back kick, her foot grazes skin, and she feels a surge of pride before he grabs her leg, sets his heel behind her support, wraps his arm beneath her breasts, and unceremoniously dumps her on the ground. There were several sickening cracks despite the soft earth of the forest, all the wind left her body so quickly that she couldn't even make a noise, and she spent almost a minute arching her back and screaming silently before her lungs would work again, breathing in what felt like fire instead of air. She rolls over and slowly pushes herself off the ground, coughing and sputtering the whole way.

"Stay down, lass. I've broken five of your ribs, and cracked the rest. To fight with an injury such as that is admirable, but ultimately stupid. The battle is over."
She mutters something derogatory about his manhood, then finishes standing, keeping her arms in a low guard as it hurt too much to bring them up. "It's not over until I'm unconscious, you son of a troll."
The slight elf chuckled. "I see the fire that flows from the snake's fangs also flows from your tongue. If you desire to keep learning, I suppose I have no alternative than to teach." With that, he dashed forward, intent on knocking her out before she insisted that he hurt her too much.

She fought well, all things considered, but was in no shape to go toe to toe with Feras the Giant. He wound up behind her, applying pressure to her carotid arteries with his forearm. She struggled, then fell limp. When he let go, she slumped to the floor. Suddenly worried that he had hurt her too much after all, he bent over her. "Mag? Magaska, are you alright, can you hear me?" Her eyelids fluttered, and a light sigh escaped her lips. He exhaled in relief, and was unable to inhale again because she was digging her fingernails into his trachea. Blood welled up around the punctures, but she didn't let go. Wheezing between words, she said "Remember the first thing you taught me? Never let your guard down." He gurgled, and suddenly she was digging her nails into a very, very, very large serpent. She could no longer penetrate the muscle, and though she was still holding onto the neck, she could not hold it still as it thrashed from side to side, and she soon found herself wrapped in it's powerful coils. It gave the slightest of squeezes, and she shrieked as the rest of her ribs shattered under the immense pressure.

Feras the Giant shifted back into his 4'8, 110 pound self, collapsed next to Mag, and began rubbing the holes in his throat. Each time his fingers passed over them, they became smaller and smaller, until all that was left was 5 crescent shaped scars, raw and red. Chest heaving with the effort of breathing, he growled "Now are you finished?" She merely nodded, unable to speak. "You've learned well. Had it been anyone but me, you very well may have taken your first life today. But you must remember: No one else you fight will care whether you live or die. In fact, they'll probably be trying to kill you. That is rather the point of a fight." She nodded again. "Good." With great effort, he rolled himself over to face her. "More importantly, it doesn't matter that you almost killed me. Almost gets you almost. You either win, or you do not." She nodded once more, nearly crying from the pain. "Good. Give me a minute, and I will tend to your injuries." After catching his breath, he gently turned her over and repaired her ribs the way he did his neck. She then limped to her bedroll, saying nothing else, and fell asleep.

The next morning, she is shaken awake. "Come. There is something I must show you." Still sullen from last night, she nevertheless obeys Feras for fear of incurring his ire. He led her miles into the woods away from the camp, and though she was curious, she asked no questions and he volunteered no information. Without warning, he stopped. "What do you see?"
"I...I see the forest. I see the forest that has been our home for many seasons now."
"Is it beautiful?"
"Yes, of course it is. Have you gone soft in the head to ask me such a thing?"
"Turn around."
She turns around, and gasps. The forest they had passed through was no longer there. In its place was another forest, brighter, greener, softer, and more beautiful than anything she had ever seen.
"This is the Feywild, the most beautiful, magical forest in all the planes. Here, all live in peace and harmony, with nature and with themselves. I hope one day you can stay here."
"Wh...What? Why can't I now?"
"Didn't you hear me? I said 'all live in peace and harmony.' Even if you could hold your tongue, which you couldn't, very soon the boys would all be fighting over you."
"Then why show me this, you stupid ox!?"
"Is that any way to talk to the man who found you as an infant, abandoned to the elements? My homeforest is here. Last night, I received a message from an owl who owed me a favor, sent by my brother. There is...trouble, of an extremely personal nature, and I must leave you, years before I'd intended."
"You were going to leave me? You're LEAVING me!?"
"Yes. I am. But I did not bring you here just to make you jealous."
With that, there was a rustling in the grass, and a beautiful black and green viper reared its head, staring intently into Mag's eyes.
"I do not know if you chose the snake, or if the snake chose you. But you take after your old man more than you think, and my friend here has agreed to initiate you."
The snake approached, slithering up her body until it was gazing into her eyes once more. Minutes that seemed like hours passed as she felt it probe her soul. Without warning, it sank its fangs into her neck. As liquid fire surged through her veins, she found she could not move at all, not even to breathe, but she wasn't in nearly as much pain as she thought dying would bring.
"You are not dying, Mag. When the venom wears off and you wake up, you will find yourself imbued with magical powers such as I have. Take a week or so to get used to them. Learn your limits. And then, I have one last favor to ask of you. The owl also brought very troubling news out of Blackweald. I need you to go to Blackweald, and sign up with the local mercenaries guild. Mention my name, and you'll have no issue with them. Captain Helmspur is a good man, more than competent from what I hear, but this is simply beyond him, and he will turn to the mercenaries eventually. Good luck, Magaska Venomwind." Though unable to speak, she thought very hard at him "Who are you to give me a family name? I will rip you to pieces and throw your carcass to the wolves." This seemed to have some effect, because he sighed and laid a kiss on her forehead. "What am I unleashing on the world?" he wondered aloud. And everything went black.

The Next Fix
or, Celestial Voice, Infernal Soul

Spoiler

Lines of brilliant red and luxurious purple followed his movements. Some days, he could entertain himself for hours simply by waving his hand in front of his face. But not today. Today, he was running low. Today, he was on assignment.

Marillion Silverwind hummed a simple melody to himself, reshaping the contours of his face as he altered his pitch and tone. Soon, he looked nothing like his beautiful self. He was plain, utterly forgettable. Good. A man of Marillion Silverwind's status could not afford to be seen where he was going.

He left his den, stumbling down the street towards the poor district, pulling his cloak around him, relishing in the feeling of wool on his skin in contrast to the cold air. Gods, what a beautiful day! It was a good thing he'd remembered to put on his cloak before he left; otherwise, he'd have danced down the street naked, reveling in the cool winter crispness.

"Mari? Is that you?"

A surge of red hot anger flowed through him, threatening to consume him alive, and he slammed the halfling against the wall of the inn. When did he get here? No matter: He'd broken the rules.

"How many times have I told you, Daris? NO. DAMN. NAMES." The essence of hatred flowed through his teeth, seeming to color the air green.

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry Ma...I'm sorry. Let's just be cool, ok? It was an accident."

Instantly a wave of remorse washed over Marillion, dousing his rage. He didn't mean to cause any problems. He just slipped up. Everyone slips up sometimes. "It's alright, friend. I am sorry, I...I just get frustrated sometimes."

"Don't worry about it, it's already forgotten." And indeed it was. Daris was one of the few genuinely nice people Marillion had met in his line of business. It would be his death someday, but right now, it was giving Marillion a steady supply of what he needed. "The target's in room 208. You don't need to know the specifics, but he's really been coming down on us, and it'd be most appreciated if you could make it go away. Here's a bottle of wine. Tell him the hotel sent you. It'll be simple, in and out. You know what to do."

"And when this is over?"

"You'll get your Mayella, no worries. Now get it on."

Marillion rolled his eyes, and began to sing again, this time a complex piece. He felt his bones rearranging inside his body as he sang. His legs lengthened, his hair turned raven, his hips widened, his chest swelled...very soon he wasn't a he at all.

Marillion dropped her cloak, revealing a tasteful yet teasing outfit. He felt his arm, reassuring him that it was still there under the sleeve, adjusted her cleavage, tossed his hair, and strolled into the hotel carrying a bottle of wine so cheap it was closer to vinegar.

Three knocks at the door.

"Hello?"

"Good evening, sir. I'm from the hotel's welcoming committee, here to thank you for choosing to stay at The Flea-Bitten Cat."

The door opened.

A middle aged man, fat, and slightly balding. It was obvious he knew what she'd really been sent to do, and he couldn't be happier that she'd arrived. Marillion flashed his winningest smile at the man. "May I come in?"

"Of course, miss..."

"Please! Miss was my mother. Call me Mina." She set the bottle of wine on the table, waiting for the target to close the door before she turned around.

"So, uh...How, uhh..How do you, you know...I mean, this is my first time. No, it's not my first time, but it's my first time, you know? I mean -" Marillion shushed him, toying with the idea of giving the man what he wanted before Mina took what she needed. But Liri's dark haired and fine featured visage surfaced in his mind...Disturbed at this unusual display of care, Marillion stepped back.

"Don't worry, sweetie. Just let it happen. Sit down over there." The target happily obeyed. "Shall I sing for you?" Though slightly confused, he nodded, and Marillion began to sing. There were no words, but there didn't need to be; the sheer sound of his voice provided all the meaning that was needed.

"Oh my, Mina. You're very talented." The man was fairly wriggling on the seat, eager to get on with it. But Marillion wouldn't hear of it. He simply smiled, and continued to sing, beginning to weave his magic into the words.

"You're very good, but...I have a headache."

Mina pretended not to hear him, continuing to sing, now walking seductively towards the man.

"Really, please Mina, my head...It..." He began to whine and moan, softly at first, growing louder as Mina walked closer. His face contorted in agony, his body writhing on the couch, and still Marillion sang. He began to scream, but couldn't hear himself over her angelic voice.

As Marillion sustained the last note, he flicked his wrist, extending the hidden dagger and slashing the man's throat in the same swift motion. A corresponding but much shallower cut appeared on Mina's neck, filling him with ecstasy without missing a beat. The last strains of Marillion's voice died as blood sprayed from his severed arteries, painting the ceiling in brilliant colors that only Marillion could see, until his heart finally stopped beating.

A minute later, Mina stepped out of the man's room. He'd used magic to clean herself up and remove any traces of her from the man's room. The body wouldn't be discovered until morning, by which time he'd be singing for the head of the local merchant's guild. In the extremely unlikely event that an alibi were even needed -after all, who'd suspect Marillion Silverwind, the loveliest voice this town had seen, of being a drug-addled murderer?- Liri would swear on Corellon's Bow that he'd passed the night in her passionate embrace.

But he would not spend this night with Liri.

He would spend this night in the arms of his mistress, his lady, his one true love...Mayella.

And 3 background snippets for the same character, in roughly chronological order. The first one is Leon as a young man, the next two occur after his retirement.

A Dilemma
or, Goblins Are Stubborn

Spoiler

"Kryyg snyshya lynhey!! Pynhya nas Nenda!"
Leon winced at the harsh, guttural sound of the chief's voice. "Wha' did tha' gobbo say?"
Ribald, who was rather short and stout for an elf, peered down his pointy nose at the scrappy little greenskin. "My goblin's a little rusty, but if I had to take a guess, it would be something along the lines of 'Go mate with a manticore.'" The chief laughed hoarsely, and even though he was dangling upside down from Andar's massive fist, he looked like he felt he'd accomplished something useful.
Jinnie said "He used less polite words, but you're essentially right." The dark-haired halfling knelt down to the chief's level and said "I know you speak Common."
To this, the goblin responded with a series of gestures and noises that were as obscene as they were offensive.
Percy sighed in disgust. "Can't we just kill him and be done with it? The rest of the tribe will scatter after we've dealt with him. Problem solved."
Wiping goblin spittle off of her cheek, Jinnie said "You know, I think I'm inclined to agree with you."
"Go ahead! Kill me then! Cut my neck! I am Riknik, king of the Greeneye Clan, and my tongue shall be eaten out my head by ants before I dishonor myself and my people by consorting with TooTalls and TooSmalls!"
Ribald cleared his throat. "I, er, can make that ant thing happen, if that'll speed things up."
"Would you mind? He's kinda heavy."
"ALRIGHTALRIGHTALRIGHT! There's no need to be uncivil!"
"Well then, tell us; Why has your tribe been taking people from the village?"
Riknik opened his mouth, then closed it and stared sullenly at Jinnie.

Andar lifted the goblin until their faces were even and said in a low, threatening voice "Alright, you little turd, listen closely. My arm's getting tired, so this is what's going to happen. You're going to tell us what's going on, and then we'll kill you... or we lock everyone in that nice little church to...whatever god it is would accept such disgusting followers as you, and we burn it to the ground, and THEN we kill you. Am I clear?"
Leon felt sick to his stomach. How could he...But the goblin spoke up before he did.
"Fine! Fine, you barbarian! A mage has been coming around, telling me to kidnap the TooTalls or that he'd burn the village down. He comes around every couple months to pick them up. I don't know where he takes them." Andar shook him a little. "I swear on my tribe that's the truth! All I know is that my scouts say he always heads to the east afterwards. Now kill me! I am not afraid to die for my people!"

“Ugh, finally.” Jinnie rolled her eyes, and drew her dagger out of her boot. “Hold him still. I don’t want goblin blood on my shirt.”
“Jinnie, ye put that knife back in yer boot right now!”
Surprised to hear such forceful language from Leon, she stopped moving towards Riknik, though she didn’t sheathe her dagger. “Excuse me?”
“Ye heard me. We cannae kill a hapless person like this!”
Percy snorted. “I see no ‘person’ here.”
Leon whirled on Percy. “Have ye gone daft, or have ye forgotten which god it is ye serve!? Ye know as well as I do that Pelor cares not for yer species.”
“But Leon, this goblin ordered the kidnapping of tens of humans! Who knows what he's condemned them to?”
“Aye, under threat o’ tha destruction o’ his village. Would any of ye no’ have done tha same? The goblins ha’ lived peacefully with tha humans for generations, and they would again, and ye would start a blood feud by killing their chief!?” Percy looked like he was about to speak, then thought better of it; everyone else looked away, suddenly feeling ashamed. Andar was the first to speak.
“I never thought I’d say this, but Leon’s right. We let our anger get the best of us. Let us move on from this place, to the east.”
“No! Kill me, you cowards! I can't face my tribe now!! Ny hen Yygga! ******** ******** ******* ***********!!!!!” Jinnie blushed despite herself; though she was the only one in the group who could speak Goblin, she’d never heard a string of invective quite this foul. Ribald drew a complex symbol in the air, scattering rose petals as he did so and punctuating it with what sounded like a lizard attempting to bark. Riknik’s litany of expletives gradually faded, to be replaced by a gentle snoring as Andar set him down on the grass.

“Well, we all learned something today, and we have Leon to thank for it.”
Aye…I learned somethin' as well.

The adventurers headed off, sun at their backs. After about a half hour walking in silence, Andar came up alongside Leon and coughed awkwardly. “I, er…I was bluffing. About the whole…burning…thing. I, uh…I just thought I should tell you.”
Yer a terrible liar, Andar.
“Of course ye were. Don’t worry about it, friend, it’s water under the bridge.”

Graverobbers
or, Ye've Been Hornswoggled!

Spoiler

"Come on, Dirk! Hurry up and dig! We need to be out of here by sun-up!"
"Yeah, well, there's another shovel."
"Jeth's busy being the lookout, and we both know I'd just get in the way."
The enormous greenskin in the hole sighed, his small tusks jutting out in frustration. "That's true enough. Tell me, Pad, were you BORN this squishy, or did you have to work at it?"
"A little bit of both."
Dirk chuckled, then bent back to his work. Minutes passed without conversation, the only sound the half-orc's shovel striking earth and the occasional owl hoot.

"Ya know, Pad, I've been thinking."
"A dangerous past-time."
"I know. The thing is, we fooled the whole town, and it was so...easy. I mean, you'd think SOMEONE would have been suspicious when we said there was a lair of Otyugh's nearby and they were headed this way."
"Yeah, but they weren't."
"Well...I don't know. That priest seemed a little...off."
"Please! The old fart doesn't suspect a thing."
"Oh, I would no' say that."
"Dirk...When did you get an accent?"
The half-orc looked up, puzzled. "What are you talking ab-OOF!" he asked as a roughly halfling shape landed on his head.
Now knowing that something was not quite going the way he'd planned, Padmich fumbled at his waist for his pouch, pulled out some guano, and sent a fireball screaming over the pit. The ensuing explosion illuminated the graveyard, and the mage glanced around wildly...

Just in time to see what appeared to be a large ham crash into the bridge of his nose. Blind with pain, he stumbled backward and fell into the pit. Fortunately Dirk, who'd just gotten back on his feet, broke Pad's fall. Leon stood at the lip of the hole, holding a small pouch that moments ago was tied to Pad's belt.
"Well, I dinnae think ye'll be needin' this anymore." With that, he turned the bag upside down, emptied it, kicked some earth over the heap of components, and flipped the bag over his shoulder. "By the way, lad, I think next time, ye might want ta make sure ye know where I am 'fore ye fire off a spell like that. Ye coulda hurt someone."
"Believe me *sniff* I will."
"Now, then...what brings ye to me little town?"
The halfling piped up. "Please, sir, we only want to help your town!"
"Aye, and I've got a dwarf growing out of me stomach." The priest rolled his eyes. "Why don't ye tell me what yer REALLY here for?"

The three exchanged glances, and then Padmich looked up at him. "We were told that...a powerful wizard was buried here centuries ago with his spellbook and several of his powerful items. I...I just wanted a look, I swear!"
Leon stared at the mage, beginning to shake. At first, it seemed like he was shaking with anger...and then he began to chuckle.
"S-sir?"
Leon fell over on the ground, laughing so hard that he began to cry. He managed to say between gulps of air "Ha ha! Oh my goodness, lads! Ye-Ye've been swindled! Hornswoggled! Hehehehe...A WIZARD! HERE!? BWAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! How...How much did ye PAY him for tha' tripe!?"
Dirk looked down at his feet and sighed. "A thousand gold pieces."
Leon had just managed to regain composure when he heard this. He fell over again and began to slap the ground with mirth. After a few minutes, he calmed down. Wiping tears from his eyes, he said "Oh, ye poor things. Here, let me grab hold o' tha shovel, I'll pull ye out."

A few minutes later, they were all standing around the pit, Dirk and Leon refilling the grave.
"I would just like to say again, Mr. Abbot, that I am VERY sorry about that fireball."
"I'm sorry about wallopin' ye. And about dumpin' yer pouch out. And Dirk, I'm sorry for droppin' yer friends on ye."
"Eh, bigger things have fallen on me from higher. Don't worry about it."
Jeth took off her pack and held it out. "Here, Mr. Abbot. It's the supplies the town gave us to help deal with the Otyughs."
"Och, don't worry. Ye need tha potions an' such more than we. We're a quiet little place. In fact, ye're the most excitement we've had in years."
Unsure of how to feel about this, the adventurers kept quiet until the grave was filled.

Afterwards, Leon borrowed Jeth's pen and paper and scribbled some names and addresses on it. "Here, if ye ever find yerself in the town of Riveroak, ask for Ribald Moonwhisper. Tell him Leon sent ye, he'll let ye sneak a peek at his spellbook. And this card gives ye full protection from tha thieves in North Bend. Now go on, get outta here 'fore I change me mind. And don't worry about the town, I'll tell em...Ah, I'll tell em you were too embarrassed to come back and be thanked and such." He grinned, shook hands with all three of them, and then sent them on their way.

Ahh...Ta be young again...They're good kids. I hope they don't have it too hard out there.

With a smile on his face, Leon turned around and made his way back to the church, promptly falling asleep in his chambers.

He woke up at first light two hours later with a splitting headache, cursing those darned kids.

A Holy Calling
or, Go Away Already!

Spoiler

"Merciful Pelor, whose loving rays nourish tha land, I ask that Ye look after your loyal subjects in this humble province. Shine your holy light on us, and cause tha tiny seeds ta become the grains that will feed us all. And though the night is long, and the darkness full of terrors, we shall be comforted knowing that your brilliance will radiate the sky...And, as always, give me tha strength to endure those who would wish me dead. Amen."
Ilnin cleared his throat.
"You, ah...You do realize that we're standing right here."
Without opening his eyes or unclasping his hands, Leon responded "Aye, and ye've been there for a while now. I drew my prayers out 'specially for you. I hope you liked it."
Maari wheezed "Oh yes, your prayers were lovely. I quite enjoyed the bit about the gra-wha?", interrupted by Ilnin's elbow. "Oh yes. Have you given any thought to our request?"
"Have I given any thought? I've done nary a thing but give it thought, and my answer is tha same as it was last week. Find someone better suited to this task. I am old, and tired, a horse tha's been put out ta pasture."
"But, Leon, there IS no one better suited to this task. Maari and I may be higher in the hierarchy than you, but that is only because you insist on staying in this town. No other priest has the experience that you do."
"Ya mean that no other priest has ever raised arms, or even traveled?"
"I just returned from my mission to the southern continent two months ago, but it was dreadfully boring." Maari piped up.
"They ha' CANNIBALS there."
"Oh, nonsense! They're really more civilized than people think, and quite friendly too! Delightful cooks, as well. They served me the most exquisite pork chop for my last meal with them."
At this, Leon's eyes popped open. He blinked twice, then looked at Ilnin. "Er...Ye wanna tell him, or should I?"
"Tell me what?" Ilnin shook his head so violently that he became dizzy for a second while Maari remained oblivious.
"Er, never ye mind. Still, I'm afraid I must decline. Now please, leave me be."
"As you wish." Ilnin took the still-bemused Maari by the arm and steered him out the door, gently closing it as they left.
"Ach, finally! I dinnae trust them, and now I can finally return to my prayers."
But Leon discovered that he could no longer concentrate on his prayers, and after a fruitless 10 minutes, he stood, disgruntled, and went into his chambers.

It was a simple room; A bed in one corner, a dresser in the other, a desk in the third, and a rack for armor in the last, decorated only with a sketch that Jinnie had drawn of their deceased captain, which his eyes were drawn to more than usual. She had a remarkable talent, really. He pulled himself away, and looked instead at the shattered phylactery on the desk. Most men would have buried it upside down at a crossroads and set several heavy rocks on it, but not Leon. He needed it close, needed to remember that evil could lurk anywhere, even in the hearts of those who claimed to be Pelor's servants...Even in the hearts of his friends. He traced the sunburst pattern, still warm to the touch. Percy...I still cannae understand...

Opposite was suspended a suit of full-plate armor; it was of truly fantastic craftsmanship, if a bit fuzzy around the edges.
How long's it been...9 years since I last wore this...9 years since... He recoiled at the memories, looking away, then looking down at his gut. It'd probably still fit me.
Next to the armor hung his mace and dagger. Leon reached out, drawing a finger across one of the flanges on his mace, repeating aloud what Andar had replied to Jinnie when asked why HE needed to destroy the Lich.
"If no' I...then who?"

A half hour later, Leon had kissed his mother goodbye, loaded his things into a chest, put the chest on the wagon, and was riding out of town with Ilnin and Maari.

I still dinnae trust them.

[darkpuppy]

Ah, lovely snippets all, especially the ones about Leon! Loving it!

Anyways, for the first time on the snippets thread (or anywhere but my OU coursework!) a little snippet of HM 1st Clockwork Regulars!

A Slight Predicament
or Why You Should Burn Your Bridges Afterwards

Spoiler

"Well, sir, this is a right ol' mess, innit? They're bloody tampin'!" The comment, coming as it did from a small, jolly welshman in ill fitting leathers, seemed a little ludicrous, but made perfect sense to his commanding officer, Colonel Smedley Smythe.

After all, while the inital reports had said the rioting force was "Another bloody bunch of Pankhursts", it had failed to mention that said women were both wilder than your average women's rights group, and were well versed in the older, bloodier form of druidry. Things were looking quite grim, and the situation was not helped by the lack of dignity in fleeing from said women in, of all things, Sgt. Barry Jones' mechanical monowheel. The experience was one that never failed to make Colonel "Smedders", as he was known among his men, wish fervently to never have the need for such a contraption again.

Alas, his wish was always fated not to be, and he hung onto his hat as Barry wildly swerved and leaned, dodging the rather large seedpods that were hurtling from the sky.

"Oh, sod!", cried Barry, and Colonel Smythe could quite easily see what occasioned such an undisciplined use of uncouth language. The bridge ahead, while still passable, possessed, as its central feature, an extremely large venus flytrap. One which, despite being of the plant, rather than animal kingdom, did a surprisingly good job of looking hungry.

Barry Jones, however, was a man of keen instincts, and, without further ado, hit the button on his single wheeled contraption. Everyone, including Colonel Smythe, knew what the button did, and dutifully averted his eyes as the rockets stationed on top of the wheel let fly...

The dreaded contraption skidded to a halt, and, with eyes tightly shut, Colonel Smythe heard only two things: A twin explosion, and Barry's ebullient cry of "Bloody 'ell, that's one 'ell of a sight, innit, butt!"

Slowly and cautiously, Colonel Smythe opened his eyes... and was horrified to find that, while the large plant was gone, so, in fact, was a good half of the bridge. Specifically, the middle of the bridge... Their only escape route.

Colonel Smythe was seething with fury, but, remembering his officer's manual, and the use of lighthearted jollity in times of stress, he simply turned to the still cackling Sgt. Jones, and stated breezily:

"Well, that presents a slight problem, doesn't it, Sergeant?"

Barry didn't really understand until he turned around.

"Oh, sod!"

[TheBlackShadow]

Good sir, you transcribe the accent and colloquial speech of our nation with great efficacy, if a trifle stereotypically. I also find the effect of the juxtaposition of our countryman's dialect with the stiff, precise narrative and the general ludicrousness of the situation to be highly amusing.

[Lady Moreta]

Much much funniness I approve of this.

Marillion - Marillion (heh) is kinda creepy. Well done. I love Leon, I love the way he talks and how he gets himself out of retirement. I want to know what happened with Percy.

Very impressive array of characters you've got there.

Darkpuppy - I'm not entirely sure I followed what was happening, but it was funny and that's what counts

[darkpuppy]

Originally Posted by TheBlackShadow

Good sir, you transcribe the accent and colloquial speech of our nation with great efficacy, if a trifle stereotypically. I also find the effect of the juxtaposition of our countryman's dialect with the stiff, precise narrative and the general ludicrousness of the situation to be highly amusing.

*chuckles* being a welshman cursed with an english accent, my learned friend, I can dutifully report that stereotypical accents can be easily found in both the Swansea and Kent areas of our fine (*snigger*) country.

Lady Moreta, I can sum the particulars up thusly: The world is a steampunk alternate history/parody (hence the stereotypes of "The Rupert" and "The Mad Welsh Bomber/Techie"), and, as such, still has victorian prejudices. Pankhursts refer to radical feminists, and these particular feminists knew druidic magic, causing a lot of trouble for the Clockies... after all, the Lady St. Germain (an occultist and un-ladylike lady) was not present at that particular engagement, embarassing another character of mine in front of his ladyfriend in another world entirely...

EDIT: I might try for a Fading Suns character next, we'll see if anything interesting comes out of the original 2nd Ed character gen (as for FSD20... BAH! and I say again, BAH!)

[big teej]

I finally got to play gideon last night......

my dice told the Law of averages to piss off

I rolled 3 20s essentially in a row

and then rolled below 10 the rest of the night.

as soon as my dignity has a positive hit point total large enough to take another pummeling, I'll have a snippet

"in the name of the hammer! (oh bollocks)" or 'my dice liked me better as a DM'

[Lady Moreta]

Originally Posted by big teej

"in the name of the hammer! (oh bollocks)" or 'my dice liked me better as a DM'

Sounds fun

I actually got stuff written! Well one thing... I was going to wait til I had a bunch, but meh...

Growing Up
or I love you Mam

Spoiler

“Tela? Tela where are you?”

Mam. Mam is safe. Mam won’t try and hurt me. I stuck my head out from under my bed. No one ever looks for me there. No one realises I fit.

“Tela! There you are,” Mam sounds happy. She won’t stay that way. Not for long. She crouches down to see me. “Come out from there,” she says. I don’t want to. But I don’t argue with Mam. I crawl out, lifting my head as I do. She’ll be mad. Everyone else is mad. She hisses when she sees my face.

“Tela, what happened?” I don’t argue with Mam when she uses that tone.

“I hit Taid...” I said it quietly. Mam would be mad at me. She looks mad and she sounds mad too.

“And what did Taid do to you?”

“He hit me.” Mam stared down at me before bending down and getting onto her hands and knees.

“How many times did he hit you?” I was startled. I didn’t realise Mam could read minds. The wizard down the street can.

“Umm... it was – lots?” I’m not good with numbers. It was enough to hurt. Enough to make my nose bleed. Enough to make me angry. I don’t like being angry.

“Oh Tela..” Mam reached out and pulled me up. She looked upset. And angry. She tugged me forwards then, towards the front of the house. Before we got there, there was a loud banging on the door.

“Open up Kella!”

“We know you’re in there!”

“We want to talk to you and your spawn!”

Mam stopped so fast I ran into her. She stumbled and I grabbed the back of her dress. She shoved me backwards and followed me into the bedroom. She grabbed me and pulled me down to look at her.

“Tela, do you trust me?”

“Yes Mam,” I said. Now I was getting nervous. The voices were loud and yelling and angry.

“Good girl. Now I want to you do exactly as I tell you.” Mam hurried around the room, grabbing things and shoving them into a bag. She tiptoed into the main room and came back with food from the kitchen. She put that into the bag as well and then shoved it at me. I took it.

“Tela, my dearest girl. You have to go. It isn’t safe here any more.” Mam looked like she might cry. She reached out and touched my face. “They might have killed you...”

She helped me put my cloak on and the bag as well. Then she gave me the big walking stick.

“Listen to me child. You have to leave this place. I want you to take these things and go. Leave by the back door and go straight into the forest. You’re a strong girl, you’ll be able to find work easily enough.” Mam looked unhappy, she looked that way sometimes – when she was talking to the people she didn’t like. Telling them that they looked pretty in this dress or that tunic.

“When can I come home?” I asked, putting the bag on my shoulders.

“Oh Tela... not for a while. Not until you’re older. Wait-” Mam stopped suddenly, then started again. “Wait til you’re 20. Then come home again, if you can.”

She started shoving me towards the back door, the one that leads out to the forest.

“Kella!”

More angry voices from the front of the house. I couldn’t leave Mam alone to face them. I stopped. She seemed to know what I was thinking.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be okay.” She smiled at me, and opened the door just a little bit. I stared outside, it was cloudy outside, probably would rain soon.

“Go Tela. Please go.” Mam was getting even more upset and I realised she was afraid. For me. That made me afraid. I would go. And then I would come back, just as Mam said. I was a good daughter. Mam said so.

“All right Mam,” I said, stepping outside. I turned back to look at her. “I love you.”

[big teej]

the good

Spoiler

I have 2 new snippets, the bollocks one, and the one from last night's session (both for gideon)

only 2 more weeks of school (this week and monday, and then the rest of next week is exams!!)

the bad

Spoiler

LAST 2 WEEKS OF SCHOOL!!!
i have 2 papers due tomorrow (heh...)
and a book to read for an exam
+ articles in one text book
+ 3-6 chapters in another textbook

I will most likely NOT be able to post these snippets until this work is complete (i may however, write them up at least in draft form, while taking a break from productivity)

the ugly

Spoiler

one of said papers is on global warming, so I'll be ranting in text form for about 2395349577 pages

after next session, I may not have another one with my current group until january (school is out from dec 14th till jan 14th

/news

[Lady Moreta]

Study hard

and when you need a break - I wrote a new one! Quick background - new game, my character and another know each other, mine is the only member of the group who knows he's a binder. If he fails the check against one vestige he manifests goats hooves. This is the story they came up with to explain it away. So it never actually happened, it was just too cool an idea not to write about.

Bluff, bluff, bluff the rest of the party

Spoiler

I let my longsword fall slack as Marlowe rammed his sword point through the last of the demon’s victims. I winced as the poor thing let loose a horrible screaming wail – the demon I presumed. I glanced around the field in which we stood, blood and bits of bodies scattered everywhere. I absentmindedly brushed sweaty blood-soaked hair from my face. The cut on my forehead wasn’t bad, but blood in my eyes had just about gotten me killed twice. I shuddered. Demon-possessed people died just like regular people – but in an eerie silence that made it awfully hard to concentrate on the work at hand.

The screaming wail cut off as Marlowe wrenched his sword free of the body. It fell with a clatter of old armour. I saw something flicker in the dead man’s eyes before the head lolled to one side, away from me. The next second, Marlowe’s head snapped backwards and he screamed – both surprise and pain. Before I could act, he dropped to his knees, clutching his sword for support. This couldn’t be good.

Warily, thankful I hadn’t let go of my sword completely, I approached my friend.

“Marlowe? Are you all right?” He was clutching his head as if it pained him, making little moaning sounds. Something wasn’t right. “Marlowe?” I asked again, flicking a sliced-off hand out of my way with the point of the sword I held in my right hand. I reached my friend and leaned over him.

“Are you okay?” His head came up slowly, staring at me like he’d never seen me before. I lost patience. “Damnit Marlowe, we don’t have time – for… this…” My voice trailed off as I saw his eyes. They were white. Completely white. That is not normal.

“Hell…" I started backing off, slowly. He smiled at me, slowly, coldly, delightedly.

“You’re quite right,” he said. And then he moved faster than he’s ever moved before. If it was even Marlowe any more.

One second I was standing, moving cautiously away. The next, I was dangling in mid-air, held up by his hand around my throat. I gargled helplessly, struggling to keep a grip on my sword. I swung my feet wildly, hoping to kick him somewhere – anywhere it might help me get free.

He laughed at me, extending his arm fully – even if I could have gotten enough power behind a kick to make him release me, now I couldn’t reach. Then he squeezed. I gagged, fighting to draw breath. His hand tightened further and I saw spots in front of my eyes. Spots of ever encroaching darkness. I felt my sword slip from my fingers and drew my hands up to claw feebly at his hand.

“Mar- lowe…” I choked out his name desperately. Trying to reach my friend. He had to be in there somewhere. He chuckled, the sound grating on my ears

“Little bard,” he laughed. “I am not Marlowe. Your friend is gone. I am Grazz’Vog.”

You’re a bastard I thought, but I lacked the breath to say it. Besides, completely unintentionally, the demon had given me an idea. I abandoned my useless scrabbling at his hands and reached for the pouch on my belt. Fumbling frantically, I pulled the carefully twisted paper package containing ground mica. If I could just get the words out, I could cast a spell to blind him and get away.

“Ha- haer-rrrrr...” I struggled to get the words out past his grip on my throat. More laughter and the grip tightened further. Now I couldn’t breath. Couldn’t speak. I was going to die. My closest friend, my only friend was going to kill me. How ironic. My hands curled into fists, too many attempts on my life had failed for me to give up now. The paper in my hand crinkled as my fingers curled. Suddenly I smiled, glared at the demon-wearing-Marlowe’s-face and threw the mica into his eyes.

He snarled, automatically bringing his hands up to his face to rub at his eyes. I dropped like a stone. I hit the ground at his feet and crumpled up, gasping for breath. One hand went to my throat even as I scrambled backwards. No time to grab my sword, I had to get out of there. Had to come up with a way to get the demon, this Grazz’Vog out of Marlowe’s head.

I heard a scream of rage behind me and the sound of heavy footsteps as I forced air past my bruised throat and into my lungs. I didn’t dare look behind me. Instead I concentrated on running. On thinking. I needed a priest, a cleric, a paladin, a church. Something.

Wait. A church! We had passed a Temple of the Silver Flame on our way out here. I cast a glance behind me, stumbled and almost fell. Grazz’Vog laughed again; he was clearly in no hurry. But if I could convince him to follow me to the temple, and somehow trick him into going inside… Surely there would be someone there who could help. Either way, it was my only chance.

I was at the edge of town now. I skidded to a halt, only partly faking my need for oxygen. Holding my chest, oh how it ached! I stared up at the face of my friend

“Marlowe, please.” My begging was not feigned. If I could reach him, if he could defeat the demon, I could get my friend back.

“Run little bard! Run!” There was a bass rumble in Marlowe’s voice I’d never heard before. It almost entirely masked the whistling sound my longsword made as the demon chucked it at my head. I threw myself to one side at the last minute, snatched the weapon from the ground and ran. Praying as I did there’d be a priest or cleric in the temple who could help.

This had to be the most bizarre chase I have ever experienced. I could barely breathe still, and I fought for every one. My lungs burned as I dodged and darted around buildings, into doorways and under the occasional cart. Marlowe had always been faster than me and the demon now inhabiting his body seemed to be delighting in taking pot shots at me. Thankfully it wasn’t as good a shot as Marlowe and they all missed. Either that or he was deliberately avoiding hitting me. I wasn’t sure which option I preferred to be honest.

He hurled taunts and insults at me, making sure I knew he was toying with me. I didn’t really care; I didn’t understand half of them. Just as long as he didn’t realise I was toying with him. I skidded around a corner and almost fell again; I grabbed at a nearby wall and managed to stay on my feet. Marlowe-Grazz’Vog was gaining on me, but I could see the temple in front of me. Ducking my head, I sprinted for the stairs and raced up them.

Time to set the deception.

I flung my head up, looking towards the temple and skidded to a halt. I stared up at the door, my shoulders sagging. I’d come the wrong way. This wasn’t the temple. This was the old temple. The demon behind me laughed again as he followed me up. I cast a desperate glance over my shoulder at him and prepared to run again.

Too slow. I threw myself forwards, trying to get behind a pillar. Too slow again. Grazz’Vog grabbed the back of my cloak and yanked. My feet flew out from under me and I hit the stairs hard. Before the haze cleared, he’d dragged me to my feet and slammed me against the pillar, Marlowe’s ridiculous-looking halberd in his hand. Only, as pain burst through my skull, it didn’t look so ridiculous any more.

“Ahh,” I gasped, pulling air into my lungs as the pointy end of the halberd came to rest against my throat.

“You thought you would trick me?!” Marlowe’s usurped voice roared and thundered, crescendoing upwards in a way he’d never be able to pull off himself. “You try to trap Grazz’Vog?” He sounded both furious and incredulous; I guess no one had ever had the guts to stand up to him before.

“ANSWER ME!” He shook me violently, then slammed me back against the pillar, halberd still in place, still threatening. I struggled to stay conscious and managed to stammer out

“I didn’t- I hoped. I- I… It’s not…” I trailed off, despair filling me. There was a time I could have sung it away, but you need air to sing and I had none left.

“Spit. It. Out.” The demon shoved Marlowe’s face into mine, increasing the pressure on the halberd so that I felt blood trickle down my neck into my tunic.

“It’s not a temple!” I blurted it all out, desperation filling my voice and face. My voice rose to a sobbing scream. “It used to be! It used to be! It’s not used any more…” My voice faltered as the demon twisted my friend’s face into a horrible similitude of a smile. Oh the irony, killed by my possessed best friend. He started laughing, horrible and high pitched.

“Oh little bard, do not despair,” he chuckled. “We’ll go inside anyway, you and I. Since you want to so badly.” And with the halberd tucked under his arm he wrenched me off my feet and dragged me into the temple-that-was.

The temple-that-is!

As soon as we set foot inside, I threw myself sideways and started screaming

“HELP! SOMEBODY HELP!” A sudden hiss and the demon realised my trick. He turned his head slowly to stare at me, death in his eyes. I lifted my longsword, miraculously I had held onto it this time, and stared back.

“That is my friend’s body,” I told him, with a calmness I did not feel. “I’ll thank you to leave it now.” He roared with laughter.

“I like this body, little bard. I think I shall keep it for a while longer.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it!” A new voice. I turned my head the barest inch and caught sight of a young man dressed in a robe of the Silver Flame, with the gentle clink of chain mail coming from beneath it. “A demon?” The question directed at me. I nodded grimly, not daring to take my eyes off Grazz’Vog-Marlowe.

“Distract him!” The priest yelled and flung himself sideways as Grazz’Vog apparently bored, charged the both of us.

The cleric started chanting, and I threw myself in front of him, longsword raised to parry the downward stroke of the halberd. It was Marlowe’s favourite weapon. To my everlasting gratitude it didn’t appear to be that of the demon’s. He handled it clumsily and that enabled me to stay two steps ahead of him. I tried to sing, to bolster myself and the unknown cleric whose voice rose and fell in chant behind me, but failed. I had no voice left. I would have to rely on more mundane skills to get through this.

“Damn you back to hell demon!” The cleric behind me screamed in righteous defiance. How I wished he’d shut up. I don’t know what it was, but suddenly Grazz’Vog ignored me. He seemed to have realised there was a chance this cleric could actually do what he was attempting to.

“MOVE!” I screamed at him, cutting in front of Grazz’Vog and hammering a blow at my friend. The demon, growing more comfortable with his weapon, caught the hilt of my longsword with the halberd and wrenched it out of my hands. Before I had time to reach for the bow on my back, he slammed the haft of the halberd into my wrist. I screamed as the bones shattered into pieces and stumbled backwards. The demon stared down at me as I wavered on my feet, wondering if I was worth the effort. The cleric still chanted and while there was hope I could not abandon Marlowe. I stepped forwards.

With an aggravated huffing sound, the demon simply swept me to one side. Reaching down with one hand, he grabbed me by the neck – again. With barely a breath of effort, he lifted me off my feet and flung me across the room. Into a pillar.

Pain and bright colours flared in my skull and the world went dark.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Screaming woke me.

Marlowe screaming.

“Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop!”

I forced my eyes open and almost immediately wished I hadn’t. The crazy little cleric was standing over my friend, hands raised, an expression of religious ecstasy on his face.

“BE GONE, DEMON!” He cried in a great, resonant voice. He’d probably make a good singer. If he wasn’t in the process of killing my friend that is.

“Stop!” I cried, “you’re killing him!”

“The demon must be exorcised!” The cleric didn’t even turn his head as he focused his energy on my friend. I got my hands underneath me and tried to push myself up

“Aieee!” I screamed as I put my weight on my broken hand. I’d forgotten all about it. I slid back to the floor, panting and cradling my hand. All right, take two. Using only my left hand I managed to get onto my knees. This alone made my head spin and I retched. I squeezed my eyes shut and forced myself onto my feet and upright. I clung to the pillar with my good hand, fighting nausea and opened my eyes.

Marlowe was on his knees, screaming. I’d never heard a person make such a horrible sound before. It was as if his life, his very soul was being torn from him. I realised then what the cleric must be attempting to do. He was trying to exorcise the demon from my friend’s body. But Grazz’Vog had attached himself – somehow to Marlowe’s soul. The cleric was literally tearing them apart. It might work. But it would almost certainly kill my friend.

I staggered forwards, away from my comforting pillar. Head pounding, my throat swollen and aching, I stumbled up to the cleric and yanked at his upraised hands.

“Stop.” I begged him. “Please. You’ll kill him!” I don’t think he heard me. There was a shout from Marlowe – a desperate bellow from the demon. I stared in horror as it took form in front of us. Grazz’Vog had only a shadowy form, and for that I was grateful. It took in the scene, Marlowe’s body had slumped to one side, his chest crushed in by the force. The demon stared at us instead, vaporous lips forming words I could not here. It swooped at us.

“DO SOMETHING!” I screamed at the cleric, who looked rather stunned. As if surprised his little exorcism had worked. If that demon didn’t kill me, I promised myself I’d have words with this fanatical little cleric. He cried something incoherent and thrust his holy symbol in front of his face. I have no idea what he said, but it worked. Grazz’Vog froze in place.

And then… And then, he spread outwards, the formless edges of his hazy body fading and blurring as he gathered speed. Until finally with a faint popping noise, he blew apart. A burning wind slammed into both of us and we went down in a tangle of limbs. I heard myself scream as I landed on my broken wrist and somewhere in the back of my mind I knew that I’d received yet another blow to my head and that it wasn’t going to be good news for me.

I struggled to shove the stunned cleric off my legs and used my elbows as leverage. Nausea hit me again, along with a blinding pain behind my eyes and this time I did throw up. Oddly enough, it seemed to clear my head.

Marlowe lay on his side not far away. I scrambled over to him on my knees, balancing with my good hand. I nearly fell onto him trying to stop myself. Dizziness swamped me as I searched for a pulse. I couldn’t find anything with my hand, so I laid my head on his chest. The dull ache in the back of my head turned into a pulsing pain. I ignored it and felt what I was looking for. Barely, but Marlowe was breathing. I struggled to push myself upright again and turned to the cleric.

“He’s alive! Help me!” I stared, the cleric was out cold, lying on the floor with his arms flung out. I had some healing, but it wouldn’t be anywhere nearly enough to heal Marlowe. But I could stop him from dying. Pushing my own pain to the back of my mind, I summoned up the healing magic and poured it out into Marlowe’s body. Again and again I flooded him, until I had run out of magic myself. It wasn’t enough.

I felt despair surging up through me, he would die, and all because I didn’t have enough healing spells available to save him.

“NO!” I screamed it at him, furious. Marlowe was my only friend, I couldn’t lose him. The throbbing pain came flooding back. It started behind my eyes, then swarmed up to my temples before shooting down my neck into my shoulders and spine. I closed my eyes as the room started spinning again. If he was going to die, I would be awake for it damnit.

“Terryn?” That voice… soft and uncertain, but undoubtedly Marlowe.

My eyes flew open and I winced at the sudden onrush of light. He was still curled on his side, but his eyes were open. On their knees opposite him sat another cleric, this one wearing the robes of a more senior priest than my crazy little friend. I half-turned, there was yet another cleric attending to their fellow.

“Ma’low’,” I felt literally faint with relief. Or perhaps I just felt faint. Marlowe was looking at me funny, as if I was talking strangely. I didn’t care, he was all right. I learned forwards, to tell him how glad I was he was okay. I slid a little on my knees and caught myself without thinking. Pain tore through the hand I simply could not remember was broken and I whimpered. Light was fading from the room, but my burning dry eyes welcomed the darkness.

“Terryn? Terryn, are you all rig-”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

This time when I woke up, I was in a bed. A soft, comfortable, lovely, wonderful bed. My it had been a long time since I’d slept in a bed that was actually comfortable, and that I didn’t have to share with the bugs. A shadow fell over my face and I looked up into Marlowe’s face.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, his voice soft and concerned and – thankfully – back to normal. I blinked for a minute, taking silent stock. Headache? Still there, but fading rapidly. Hand? I rotated my wrist, all better. Throat? I coughed experimentally, it’d be tender for a couple of days and I’d better lay off the heavier songs, but I could breathe again and that was the important part. “The clerics say the headache will fade and you’ll have full use of your voice again in a couple of days.”

Bless him, he always knew the right thing to say.

“I’m okay,” I said finally, realising I still hadn’t answered his question. I shoved back the blankets over me and fought my way to an upright position. Marlowe leaned forwards and helped me clear the bedclothes. Travelling on the road, I’m not used to more than a bedroll.

“Good,” he said. “You scared the hell out of me, collapsing like that.”

“I? I scared you?! I-!?” I spluttered at him disbelieving. “After all that?! You were possessed and I scared you?!” I would have undoubtedly gone on, I can talk after all, had I not noticed his sudden grin. Damn fool was teasing me.

I threw my pillow at him.

He caught it easily and tossed it back, grinning.

“Now I know you’re all right,” he chuckled.

“And you?” I asked, suddenly serious. “Are you all right?”

He smiled at me, a more serious expression than before and I noted with relief that his eyes had gone back to their normal green instead of that horrible white.

“I am all right,” he assured me. “Except possibly for this…” he gestured at his feet and I leaned over the edge of the bed to take a look, wincing as it triggered a sore spot in my head.

“Oh… oh my.” I blinked rapidly, staring down at Marlowe’s – hooves. Goat’s hooves to be exact. I lifted my head and looked at him, eyebrows raised.

“The cleric assures me it won’t be a problem. In fact, they’ll only manifest sometimes – along with a ‘certain shortness of temper’” his voice rose slightly on that last, mimicking the cleric obviously. He sounded a little short of temper already.

“Well,” I said finally, a smug smile forming. “It’ll make a great story.”

[Marxism]

A snippet from a very wonderful campaign DMed by my brother (I was a 20th level wizard in 3.5 and I was evil(yeah my dear bro did not think that one through enough)

Spoiler

"OUCH" Its only after the first few times that you really remember how much getting punched hurts. The bright side is that once they hit you its not a crime. With that in mind I recited the incantation and raised the index finger on my right hand. A smile escaped me as the flames blasted the foolish dwarf that had punched me and the surrounding tables chairs and stools backward. Nothing like a nice explosion to make you feel alive. There was an odd silence as the flames crackled and the crowed stared. They had expected a normal bar fight. That's more their style nobody dies and there is very little property damage. Then came the panic screams and yells prayers and shock. That kind of thing the dwarf was dead that was sure his body was charred and ruined. The panic had set in officially as everyone began sprinting for the door. The smoke began to rise and my associate tapped me on the shoulder. "That was not your greatest Idea you know this place is going to be filled with guards any minute now." He was right but Id be dammed if I left this place that peacefully. I looked around to see if there was a viable escape route or if teleportation was the only option. This however became the last thing on my mind as I noticed the last person in the bar it was a human. He was staring at me not moving at all even as the flames spread further and further. "well? going to run like the rest of the vermin?" "From the spell you cast I can tell that you are not that skilled in magic. Besides I want to see the fun." In my days I had never once let anybody talk back to me and I was not going to let it pass. That and hey I had already decided we would be leaving so why not go for the grand effect. I held up my hand and felt the magic grow. Though it was a boring spell it would serve. The huge hand that my power had created in the air drew back and smashed into the man before me throwing him against a wall and holding him there. "Well? are you sure I'm unskilled?" "Maybe." he grunted the magic burst as he spat another word I recognized it as a dispelling technique one of the more advanced ones. dispelling is an odd thing you can never really tell how powerful someone is by it. Because of that I did not bother to hold back. My whole body shuddered as the four spheres exploded out of my open palm. It was such a pain to use a large spell like that looking for the body is so hard once you've done it. The explosions ripped the building apart. another spell and ten seconds later I was standing 20 feet over the rubble with dozens of guards staring at me and my associate next to me. Oh the woes of being too powerful hah just kidding there are none.

[Lady Moreta]

Originally Posted by Marxism

A snippet from a very wonderful campaign DMed by my brother (I was a 20th level wizard in 3.5 and I was evil(yeah my dear bro did not think that one through enough)

Spoiler

"OUCH" Its only after the first few times that you really remember how much getting punched hurts. The bright side is that once they hit you its not a crime. With that in mind I recited the incantation and raised the index finger on my right hand. A smile escaped me as the flames blasted the foolish dwarf that had punched me and the surrounding tables chairs and stools backward. Nothing like a nice explosion to make you feel alive. There was an odd silence as the flames crackled and the crowed stared. They had expected a normal bar fight. That's more their style nobody dies and there is very little property damage. Then came the panic screams and yells prayers and shock. That kind of thing the dwarf was dead that was sure his body was charred and ruined. The panic had set in officially as everyone began sprinting for the door. The smoke began to rise and my associate tapped me on the shoulder. "That was not your greatest Idea you know this place is going to be filled with guards any minute now." He was right but Id be dammed if I left this place that peacefully. I looked around to see if there was a viable escape route or if teleportation was the only option. This however became the last thing on my mind as I noticed the last person in the bar it was a human. He was staring at me not moving at all even as the flames spread further and further. "well? going to run like the rest of the vermin?" "From the spell you cast I can tell that you are not that skilled in magic. Besides I want to see the fun." In my days I had never once let anybody talk back to me and I was not going to let it pass. That and hey I had already decided we would be leaving so why not go for the grand effect. I held up my hand and felt the magic grow. Though it was a boring spell it would serve. The huge hand that my power had created in the air drew back and smashed into the man before me throwing him against a wall and holding him there. "Well? are you sure I'm unskilled?" "Maybe." he grunted the magic burst as he spat another word I recognized it as a dispelling technique one of the more advanced ones. dispelling is an odd thing you can never really tell how powerful someone is by it. Because of that I did not bother to hold back. My whole body shuddered as the four spheres exploded out of my open palm. It was such a pain to use a large spell like that looking for the body is so hard once you've done it. The explosions ripped the building apart. another spell and ten seconds later I was standing 20 feet over the rubble with dozens of guards staring at me and my associate next to me. Oh the woes of being too powerful hah just kidding there are none.

Heehee, I agree, brother didn't quite think that one through.

However, it made for a fantastically funny story

The characterisation was brilliant. You can tell that he's evil, but it comes across not only in his actions, but in his speech and thoughts. He has a definite "you are a bug in my eyes" attitude about him that just works. Well done

My only critisim is the formatting - because well, it's not.

As I have said to Teej before, each new line of speech should be started on a new line (as if it were a new paragraph). For that matter, you haven't included any paragraphs, which makes it much harder to read and detracts from the overall cleverness of the story and your writing. There are a couple of instances where you've used the wrong plural or wrong tense and you seem to dislike the comma... most of your sentences aren't punctuated at all, which makes it very hard to read. Try reading it out loud - every time you find yourself naturall pausing to take a breath - stick a comma in there. That's what they're for

Overall, it was very good... but fixing the formatting/grammar issues will make it easier to read and turn it into a brilliant piece of writing.

[lord pringle]

The tale of Eric the Red
or the tale of the biggest jackass I ever played

Spoiler

10/12/763 AKW

Dear diary,
Today I was hired as a pirate for a king! Sandstorm is mean though. He keeps grunting at me and mocking magic. Lubbi is a nice little goblin but that elf keeps wanting to fight everything. Stevenson the paladin makes fun of me and my past. When we fought the army of wights who saved the wagon? Me. Who cast the fireball? Me. Stevie got it handed to him when the wights killed his horse. He wanted to stay and bury him after a scout ran off! he'll regret that tomorrow when he's a wight.

10/13/763 AKW
Dear Diary,
The farmers got sick. It isn't any of my books and registers as evil. A lizard folk tribe attacked us today right after we sent the farmers home. Kentucky fried lizard folk:)

10/14/763 AKW
Dear diary,
Everyone but me and the paladin got sick with the evil illness. Sandstorm is nowhere to be found. We found the lair of a lich but all the paladin did was yell at me. this will probably be the last time I right in yell as the paladin wants to kill me to much. I'll see you when I'm done.
-Love Eric the Red, Mystic Theurge

[Lady Moreta]

Heeehee, this made me giggle

I only have one problem - he doesn't sound like much of a jackass! In fact, the paladin sounds more like a jerk than anyone else.

[lord pringle]

Trust me in game he was a jackass but his diary made him a hero. A quote:
Paladin: We are going up against a lich, everyone knows how to fight one right?
Eric: My godfather was a lich.
Paladin:How is that information useful in any sense of the word?
Eric: I don't care! I'm a wizard!
Lubbi: *facepalm*