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I just love how they talked about how weak the monk is, then engaged him in exactly the manner monks are good at fending off...
So, on the subject of aberrant locations...
The Game
Spoiler
The tower is on this side of the mirror...as are 'we'. Or we were. Now our mirror-selves corpses are scattered about. The red woman did, in fact, kill us.
Yin and her 'sister', Yang, were once one being known as a mirror monster. They were empowered and split to serve as the guardian. Yin is mostly curious about people and would like to be at peace with them. Yang, however, retained the love of murder, and is likely powerful enough to slay us all in a straight fight.
She is also becoming impatient. Yin managed to intercept Kol and Aileph, but their being here means Yang is ready to 'play'.
I tried to convince Yang to leave the kid gloves on, but she 'prefers to break her toys'. Make the guardian half maniacal murder-child, and half blinkered innocent. Wonderful idea.
In the end, we settled on a 'game'. Yang will spend three days and nights hunting us through the mirror side of the city. If we survived that long, she will agree to open the tower door. She will do her best to kill us. This is complicated for several reasons. One, half the city belongs to her outright. Two, she needs no rest. Three, she knows the location of anyone in the city, even in Yin's territory. Note to self: Try to avoid fighting beings on their own demesne next time...
So we ran. Kol's sharp eyes are the only reason we lived: he saw the doors. Each day, one door in the city was white, with a black dot marked upon it. Yin's room, where she got her turn with the 'toys'. We acted out parts of books she liked. One called 'Through the Looking-Glass', mostly. More amusingly, the paladin summoned his celestial steed...to play a part we were missing...
I'm no expert on horse expressions, but I doubt he was amused.
So it went. Each day, we found the door, did whatever Yin wanted to do, then sleep. Yang would then serve as our murderous wake-up call. This only worked in her favor on the third day...days one and two, we had enough warning to run for it, but the third day she kicked in the door. It hit me in the face. I did try fighting her, but my shots didn't really do anything.
Finally, we got though it. Yin and Yang opened the door, and in we went.
The door closed behind us, we went down on the moving platform...and at the bottom, the paladin cast his gaze on me. My own magic senses told me he had done so, right before he started yelling...
“I was right! Explain yourself, warlock. Now.”
“Well. I haven't actually done anything evil, so I'm not sure what you see. But suffice it to say I'm on your side.”
That got him thinking. And checking that headpiece thing. He said lately it could inform you what your patron deity would think of a given course of action. Eventually, he did make up his mind...
“Helm is a patient god. For as long as you're on our side, I will say nothing of it. Transgress, and I will smite you.”
“Fine. Let's get moving...”
Of course, that wasn't the last surprise of the day. That would be the girl who came in after us, claiming to have talked Yang into letting her pass.
I don't believe it...But she's a half-celestial, and a nauseatingly innocent example of the breed, at that. But she wants the chance to heal others, and we're likely to need the help.
The moment the paladin finds out about whatever happened to me, a half-celestial shows up.
Actually, that's exactly what happened. Since one of the rule books we are using is Big Eyes Small Mouths d20 (an anime game), no one saw any issue with DBZ style midair floating or other ridiculously awesome over-the-top combat maneuvers. Besides, she had the Hover ability at rank 1, so it even worked by RAW.
Okay then that'll serve me right for assuming everyone is using the same rulebooks
Quote:
Originally Posted by SleepyShadow
... I fumbled his Reflex save.
That's what I figured had happened I just wanted some in-character fluff for it
Winds
Spoiler
Quote:
Yin and her 'sister', Yang, were once one being known as a mirror monster.
You're missing a word or two in this sentence... okay, I take it back, no you're not. I appear to have misread it the first time.
Quote:
I tried to convince Yang to leave the kid gloves on, but she 'prefers to break her toys'. Make the guardian half maniacal murder-child, and half blinkered innocent. Wonderful idea.
Heehee I love this part. I love your character's dry sense of humour.
[quote]Note to self: Try to avoid fighting beings on their own demesne next time...[/quote\]
Good advice that
Quote:
One called 'Through the Looking-Glass', mostly.
Love it.
I'm no expert on horse expressions, but I doubt he was amused.
Quote:
Finally, we got though it. Yin and Yang opened the door, and in we went.
I think you mean 'through' it. Also, I want to know more about this fight. You were so worried earlier about how hard Yang would be to beat and that she could take you in a straight fight, and then when she finally catches up - nothing happens. You mention there's a fight and then all of a sudden 'hey we're all done!'
Quote:
The door closed behind us, we went down on the moving platform...
I need more detail here. I can't picture this in my mind and it detracts from what follows because I'm still stuck trying to set the scene.
Quote:
and at the bottom, the paladin cast his gaze on me. My own magic senses told me he had done so, right before he started yelling...
“I was right! Explain yourself, warlock. Now.”
I'm going to assume there's backstory I'm missing here, because I haven't read previous snippets - but this is a bit of a non seqitur. It just comes randomly out of nowhere. Why is the paladin detecting evil on you (I assume that's what he's doing)? What made him suddenly decide to do it? Even if this is referencing something in the past, I need a bit more detail for it to really make sense in context.
Quote:
That got him thinking. And checking that headpiece thing. He said lately it could inform you what your patron deity would think of a given course of action. Eventually, he did make up his mind...
Hey! I know that phylactery! (Phylactery of Faithfulness right? The warlock in my game has one)
Quote:
Of course, that wasn't the last surprise of the day. That would be the girl who came in after us, claiming to have talked Yang into letting her pass.
I don't believe it...But she's a half-celestial, and a nauseatingly innocent example of the breed, at that. But she wants the chance to heal others, and we're likely to need the help.
I feel like this needs a bit more context as well, but I'm not sure exactly how one would go about providing it.
Quote:
The moment the paladin finds out about whatever happened to me, a half-celestial shows up.
How annoying.
Heehee, I can think of stronger words than 'annoying'.
I like this one, I like your character's voice.
__________________
There is no social situation that can't be improved if everyone was to go away and leave me to read.
I think you mean 'through' it. Also, I want to know more about this fight. You were so worried earlier about how hard Yang would be to beat and that she could take you in a straight fight, and then when she finally catches up - nothing happens. You mention there's a fight and then all of a sudden 'hey we're all done!'
Fair enough, but we only fought her the first day, long enough to notice that she could dodge Kalach's blasts-and as those were touch spells we figured the rest of the party would have a bad time hitting her even if we could survive. So we ran. Thing is, she wasn't very accurate...the one time she hurt any of us, we were asleep...
Quote:
Originally Posted by Lady Moreta
I need more detail here. I can't picture this in my mind and it detracts from what follows because I'm still stuck trying to set the scene.
The first room of the tower is basically an elevator.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Lady Moreta
I'm going to assume there's backstory I'm missing here, because I haven't read previous snippets - but this is a bit of a non seqitur. It just comes randomly out of nowhere. Why is the paladin detecting evil on you (I assume that's what he's doing)? What made him suddenly decide to do it? Even if this is referencing something in the past, I need a bit more detail for it to really make sense in context.
That is likely to remain a problem, as it would be difficult to understand why he would need to remind himself of those things in his own journal. I'll try to remember some way of catching folks up, though. Anyway, the paladin. We were wandering though areas that incredibly evils forces like The Leviathan, the Great Dragon, and various Lovecraftian terrors had gone through. This kept him from using Detect Evil because he wasn't powerful enough to handle detecting evil that strong. Inside the tower was pretty much the first place 'clean' enough to use it. So what followed was Kalach talking about how he wasn't evil, me scrambling to find spots in Helm's dogma that didn't cause the fact that he was technically evil to incite PvP, while the DM dug for bits of dogma that would. His player settled on the Damocles bit.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Lady Moreta
Hey! I know that phylactery! (Phylactery of Faithfulness right? The warlock in my game has one)
Yeah. The DM made it...less than helpful in this case. It came in handy later, but not for the reasons you'd expect...
Quote:
Originally Posted by Lady Moreta
I feel like this needs a bit more context as well, but I'm not sure exactly how one would go about providing it.
Yeah...it basically consisted of, you'll need a healer, so here's the DMPC!
Quote:
Originally Posted by Lady Moreta
Heehee, I can think of stronger words than 'annoying'.
I haven't gone, just laboriously typing up a massive post up. It should be up by Monday, at worst.
__________________
78% of DMs started their adventure in a tavern. If you're one of the 22% that didn't, post this into your sig.
Aquaeris, Flowing Sheen.
Xacha, the Metal Serpent.
Viltasa, the Evening Star.
Yash-Ko, the Flame of the Void.
Argul Lugra, Lord of the Eyes.
Drow Lord avatar by Dread Angel.
Lupin slowly opened his eyes, wincing in pain as something cold and wet brushed against his forehead. He found himself laying on a theater bench on the main floor, his wounds being tended to by Sara Landry, the woman who had been working on the marquee outside. The young woman smiled warmly at him as she met his gaze.
"What happened?" Lupin asked, slowly sitting up.
Sara gently pushed him back down and placed the wet cloth back upon his brow. "All ya'll done got trounced by that there Frank fella," she explained. "Too bad, too. He was a mighty fine carpenter."
The halfling sat up again, pushing Sara's hand away. "What happened to Derive and Lucy?"
Sara pointed across the aisle to where Derive sat reading the strange book they had found in the hidden chamber.
"Where's Lucy?" Lupin asked worriedly.
Sarah laughed and called out to one of the balconies overhead. "Lucy, honey, have ya caught all them sparkle fairies yet?"
The cat girl poked her head over the balcony railing, a deep frown on her lips. "I'm sorry Sara, I can't find them!"
"Don't worry, dear, them little tricksters are around here somewhere," Sara replied reassuringly.
Lucy smiled brightly, then disappeared out of sight. Lupin glared sternly at Sara, but the woman could only laugh.
"Sorry honey," she said to Lupin, patting him on the head, "but Lucy's pestering was giving me more of a headache than an indoor kobold concert on a hot summer day when I ain't got no booze."
Lupin scratched the back of his head, clearly confused. "What does that even mean?"
"I'm just saying she's dumber than a codfish in a pickle barrel," Sara replied.
Shaking his head confusedly, Lupin slowly got to his feet, gave Sara a nod of thanks, then walked across the aisle to join Derive. The swordsage put the book down and arched a quizzical eyebrow at the halfling.
"What's our plan?" Lupin asked as he sat down beside his companion.
"The book mentions someone named Jonathan Long," Derive answered. "I say we go talk to him."
***
"Frickin' random encounters!"
"I don't know why you're complaining, man," Lupin said to Derive reproachfully. "You get all of your stuff back at the end of the battle."
Lucy smiled brightly as she picked up Lupin and put him on her shoulders. "Besides, we almost leveled up."
"That's not the point," Derive grumbled. "We're in a city. New Greyhawk, of all places. We still got attacked by a pack of clockwork rats in the middle of the day on a busy city street!"
"Well, we were passing by a pet shop at the time," Lupin replied.
Derive snarled, irritated. "Since when are robot rats pets?"
"Since gnomes make awesome steampunk toys." Lupin answered with a sagely nod. "Lucy, we're here. Please put me down."
Lucy shook her head, unintentionally smacking Lupin repeatedly in the face with her long pink hair. "Nuh-uh. Not until you buy me that airship like you promised."
"Would buying you a beer get you to put me down for a little while at least?" the halfling asked hopefully.
"Okay!" Lucy answered happily, immediately dumping Lupin to the ground.
***
Jonathan Long's office was a massive octagonal chamber on the fourth floor of his business's building in downtown New Greyhawk. The floor was immaculate white marble tile, while the walls were painted a pale blue color. Ivory statues lined the walls, and the ceiling was covered with mirrors. Mr. Long sat at his circular desk in the middle of the room, his large leather chair rocking back and forth slightly of its own accord.
Mr. Long himself was a tall and handsome man in his mid-forties. He had short black hair that was graying at the temples, and a well-groomed goatee. He wore a black business suit. He flashed his pearly white teeth at the adventurers as they sat down at his desk.
"My secretary informs me that you wished to speak with me about a private matter," Mr. Long said.
"That's correct," Derive replied. "We found a hidden chamber beneath The Paradise Theater, and inside we found a book about the Sound and Light club. We found your name mentioned in the book as one of its members."
Mr. Long nodded slowly, then leaned back casually in his chair. "It's true. In my younger days, before I became the wealthy land-owner you see before you, I worked as their book keeper. The club was for rich business men to meet with one another, collaborate on projects, go fishing, play cards, so on and so forth. It was disbanded several years ago."
"Frank attacked us when we showed him the book!" Lucy stated.
Mr. Long looked at her with mild curiosity. "Frank ... ?"
"He was working as a carpenter at the theater," Lupin explained. "He rambled on about how films were made of sound and light, and then he attacked us."
"I'm sorry for your trouble," Mr. Long said sincerely. "However, my association with that group ended many years before it was disbanded. I'm sorry, I cannot help you."
***
"Well, that was a waste of time," Derive grumbled as they returned to the theater.
"Oh well," Lupin replied with a shrug. "Every good mystery has its fair share of red herrings."
"Like Communism?" Lucy asked.
Lupin and Derive stared at her as if she had lobsters crawling out of her ears.
"What?" she said defensively. "Am I the only one that's seen the movie Clue?"
Lupin and Derive nodded simultaneously.
"Well fine," she snorted, folding her arms indignantly over her chest. "I guess I'm a wiener then."
"Howdy ya'll!" Sara called out to them excitedly as the entered the theater. "All ya'll oughta come take a gander at these here photos I found in that there cellar down there."
Beaming with pride, the young woman handed them several dusty black and white photos. Lupin feigned interest as he politely flipped through the photos of the theater and its long-forgotten productions. However, he stopped suddenly at one photo and tugged on Derive's pant leg to get his attention. Looking over the halfling's shoulder, he could immediately see why Lupin wanted to show him this one.
In it, a much younger Jonathan Long shook hands with an unusual looking elf woman outside the theater front, with Frank the carpenter standing nervously behind her. Over the front of the theater was a banner that read "Grand Opening! Greyhawk Chapter of the International Church of Sound and Light!"
Heh. In a game of that style, there is no random. Only unusual, and it's all related. One way or another. Sounds like an interesting campaign, though. Your own invention, I take it?
And the promised Start Wars snippet. I really need to learn how to write non-combat snippets one of these days.
Pride The Two Faces Thereof
Spoiler
I probably should have realized something was wrong when Syra stopped talking.
There were four of us (Syra, Ji'kan, Olvis, and myself) along with Master Gu'do. Ji'kan was a shy Zabrak girl, still pretty new to the Order. Olvis's parents were Jedi (some people say that wasn't allowed before Master Skywalker founded the order again, but I wouldn't know) and, well, as for me I was never really a very distinguished padawan. Syra was always the odd one out. She'd come down with some kind of degenerative lung disease, and by the time more advanced medicine got to it all they could do was halt further damage to her lungs - in order to breathe properly, she had to wear a mask at all times, connected to a small filter that she wore on her back. She was Master Gu'do's (an older human man, though the name sounded like an honorific from another species) first padawan, but I could sense quite a bit of frustration and anger that bounced between the two whenever they talked for more than a few minutes at a time.
We'd been sent to investigate some missing persons in one of the less well-off districts of Nar Shadaa - normally outside of our area of interest, but a small group of desperate citizens had come to beg the Order for help. My Master and his small group of students were dispatched to see what we could do.
A 'milk run', Master Katarn had called it, and then he and Master Gu'do had shared an ironic chuckle.
Normally on such a trip Syra and our Master (and, for that matter, myself) would be debating ethics and history with a venom that just barely stayed on this side of improper, to the point where Syra had been officially chastised at least once for her inappropriate conduct. I should have realized something was wrong when Syra started being quiet, but I am shamed to say that in my sheer relief I did not notice what she had so clearly picked up.
We'd entered the power station - one of many - with procedural caution but not with much real care. We had good intelligence that it was abandoned, and so despite the relatively weak lights we moved without due attention to detail. A brief check of the computer systems suggested that something was out of place further into the building, and when Syra formed up on our rear I thought nothing of it.
Then, just as we passed the threshold into the storage room that contained the supposed error, Syra leaped back with a startled cry. Just as we turned to see what was amiss, a force field cut off our access to the outside world, leaving Syra in the small circular room we'd just left. Syra turned away from us suddenly, her left hand reaching down to unbuckle the handle of her weapon - a light-whip, unusual even for a Jedi. I'd often wondered at her choice of so difficult and dangerous a weapon, but neither she nor our Master spoke of it, nor of the large metallic gauntlets and boots that protected her from fingertips-to-elbows, toes-to-knees.
"Someone's...coming..." Syra wheezed through her mask. "I know," came the reply from our Master. "Remain calm, Syra. Remember what you have learned."
"What, precisely, is that?" I asked of my Master through teeth gritted in frustration. "I can sense it now too - Sith, Master. Sith."
Master Gu'do nodded grimly, knowing my concern. Since I'd known her, Syra had contrived to skip or otherwise avoid learning mastery of the Force. Though her potential was in no way undiminished, she refused to develop that power into a mastery more refined than what a youngling might be able to demonstrate. She could sense feelings, see some small distance into the future, and move simple objects, but anything else was above her training - and, evidently, beneath her interest. How she filled up the time she gained as a result was as complete mystery to me - but then my panicked ruminations were interrupted by the arrival of the Sith.
Not a true Lord of the Sith - he wasn't strong enough for that - but an intimidating specimen nevertheless. He was human, but covered in scars from countless battles. He wore no armor, but carried half a dozen lightsabers at his belt, each of them gouged with the personal symbols of their slaughtered owners. He fixed his eyes on Syra and smiled a predator's grin.
"Surrender immediately and you may live," he mocked, reaching for his own lightsaber. It came to life with a dull red glow as Syra set herself into a fighting posture - a simple one, with her feet shoulder-width apart, as though standing at rest. When she activated her weapon it crawled slowly to life, blue light bleeding from its handle all the way to the tip some three and a half meters away. She moved the whip around herself in deceptively slow motions, never letting it touch the ground or walls, and it left blinding afterimages in its lazy wake.
The Sith attacked without warning, launching himself directly at Syra with obvious intent to overpower his much-smaller opponent. She moved with the easy grace of a snake, side-stepping his charge almost lazily and spiraling her weapon so that three coils intercepted his blow; the sound of saber on whip made an electric snap! that was blinding and bright. Syra flowed around her opponent's next charge, her motions surprisingly rapid in spite of her unhurried posture; again and again the saber met the coils of her whip, sending sparks of plasma raining down on the floor without ever once getting within striking distance of my fellow padawan.
"Coward!" Syra's foe snarled, spitting the word like a curse. "Be still and fight me!"
Syra remained silent, the only noise she made coming from the scrape of her metal boots on the floor as she ducked a computer bank hurled by the Sith's power. She danced backwards with a twirling motion that snapped the tip of her whip at him again and again, forcing him to stand his ground and parry, helpless to prevent her retreat.
When she stopped, she ripped the mask from her face and snapped her whip into the panels on the ceiling.
The shocked intakes of breath from Master Gu'do, myself, and his other padawans happened at the same time that all the lights in the room burst, leaving the battlefield in darkness. Syra and her opponent were both briefly illuminated by their weapons before Syra deactivated hers, leaving us to stare at the Sith and the dull red death that he held in his hands.
"I know you're here, coward of the Jedi," the Sith snarled, turning his head to and fro. "I can sense you!"
A scuffling noise from the corner of the room - the Sith blasted lightning in that direction, only to find it utterly vacant. Blinded as we were by the sudden light, we almost missed seeing the Sith recoil as if struck. He grunted in pain and threw lightning in the direction of his assault - and this time we did see it, a mass of Syra's un-powered whip (now simply a very flexible metal cable) hurtling towards the side of the Sith's face. The impact split flesh beneath it, laying his cheek open to the bone and shattering his jaw. Though he was already leaning badly and starting to fall from the surprise blow, I saw Syra's foot snake out and rip his ankle out from under him.
The Sith hit the floor head-first, and a loud crunching sound indicated that his jaw had broken further. Delicately, Syra bent down and plucked the lightsaber from his numb hands, her foe too injured to resist, and in its light we could see that she was turning blue from holding her breath. With careful haste, she attached a new mask and took several deep breaths in the near-silence that followed.
"Well done," Master Gu'do finally said. It seemed to be the only thing to say.
* * *
Later, Syra asked to speak to our prisoner before he was handed over to the Order for judgement and interrogation. Following procedures, Master Gu'do asked me to be there as a silent observer.
"What do you want, girl?" the Sith spat from his cell. His jaw had mostly healed, by now, though it would always be slightly crooked. "Have you come to gloat?"
"No."
"Then what?"
Syra took a few deep breaths, her machines pumping and whirring mechanically in the meanwhile. When she began it was slowly, with careful intent.
"I...have...been...called...a bad...Jedi. I...refuse...instruction. I...disrespect...my...master. I am...angry. Frustrated. All...of...the...time. But I...never...once...thought...of...turning...to...t he Dark...Side."
The Sith gained a snide expression, "So you are here to lecture me on your virtue? Spare me, girl."
Syra shook her head. "No. Not...virtue. Not...discipline. Fear. I...am...afraid. I...did not...ask...for...the...Force. I...would...give...it...up...if I...could. But I...cannot. So I...avoid...it...as best...as...I...can, so...that...temptation...can...never...befall...me . You...have...known...that...which...I...fear. I...wanted...you...to know...that...I...understand."
"Touching, but the point is moot. Your Order will have me executed, girl."
Syra shook her head. "Not...if...you...decide...to...give...our...way.. .a...try." When the Sith arched an eyebrow, Syra shrugged. "You...can...always...escape...later."
"...I suppose I could, at that."
Recognizing that this was all the thanks she was going to get, Syra turned and walked away, and with nowhere else to go, I followed.
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Chilingsworth
Wow! Not only was that awesome, I think I actually kinda understand Archeron now. If all the "intermediate" outer planes got that kind of treatment, I doubt there would be anywhere near as many critics of their utility.
Heh. In a game of that style, there is no random. Only unusual, and it's all related. One way or another. Sounds like an interesting campaign, though. Your own invention, I take it?
Yup, the setting and the majority of the adventure is of my own design
Well, I can tell that no one is interested in any "behind the scenes" or "director's commentary" style writing from the DM about the campaign Winds is writing about. I went ahead and deleted the previous posts so as not to spoil anything about Winds future entries.
You did try to warn me Winds. I should have listened to you.
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Some of Murphy's other laws.
"Professionals are predictable, but the world is full of amateurs."
"No plan survives the first contact intact."
"If it's stupid, but it works, it isn't stupid." -Capt. Edward A. Murphy- Newton's Law of the Road
"The object with more mass has the right-of-way."
Last edited by mebecronck : 09-04-2012 at 07:55 AM.
Well, I can tell that no one is interested in any "behind the scenes" or "director's commentary" style writing from the DM about the campaign Winds is writing about. I went ahead and deleted the previous posts so as not to spoil anything about Winds future entries.
You did try to warn me Winds. I should have listened to you.
Awww... I was going to read it... I like background/world building stuff. I actually started skimming over it the other day, but it was a bit wall-of-texty (in the sense that your paragraphs were pretty massive) and I wasn't in the right frame of mind to do a proper read-and-review (I'm still not truth to tell, my ability to be critically constructive seems to come and go and right now it's kinda gone...) Anyway... my point is that I was going to read it, I just hadn't yet. And truth to tell, a lot of the snippets on here don't get read or commented on (for instance, the last thing I wrote - which I'm pretty sure I posted before your stuff - hasn't been read or commented on either, but I haven't deleted it). Just because it hasn't been commented on doesn't a) mean no one has read it and b) doesn't mean no one is interested.
And you didn't have to delete it - if people genuinely didn't want to read potential spoilers for Winds' snippets, they simply didn't have to read what you wrote - that's what spoiler tags are for after all.
And to prove my point (or something)... SleepyShadow and Gareth - I have actually read both your recent snippets, but my brain has been fairly non-functional for the past week or so so I haven't actually gotten around to critiquing them yet. Rest assured I shall do so... as soon as this headache goes away.
Also... Gareth - I believe you owed me a response to an old Lyra snippet of mine... I shall let you off the hook if you go read the last thing I posted (Leonora's backstory). (mebecronck - poking at people to read your stuff is a perfectly acceptable solution as well )
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There is no social situation that can't be improved if everyone was to go away and leave me to read.
Well, this is my first post on-site but I've been a long time lurker, and lover of all of these snippets! So I decided to join and post my (probably very bad >_>) snippet that will probably come in two parts. Though I do not DM this game of Werewolf: The Forsaken, I play Emile in fact, I decided to write this session up as I had a lot of fun with it. Hope you enjoy!
Warning: Contains bad language!
Of Wolf and Man Or; Never trust the dead guys.
Spoiler
“Stupid bloodsucking ****s.”
Rex gripped the steering wheel just a little bit harder than he meant to and heard the plastic creak, never taking his eyes off the road as he slowly allowed his fingers to relax. The large thickly built bald African-American had no trouble imagining the expression his young pack-mate currently had on his face. At any other time he might have cracked a smile; Emile was, despite being the pack’s best scout and tracker as a natural born Irraka, utterly terrible at hiding how he felt in any form. Rex could put that down to his age though – Emile had barely been an Uratha a year, and at only fourteen any normal human teenager would be entering a whole world of mood swings and other such wonders.
Rex mused for a brief second that perhaps Emile hadn’t entirely left that behind, but couldn’t fault the boy. No, all of the pack – though only four – where still hurting over the loss of Amelia. She had always been the motherly one with a smile that could work wonders for everyone’s moral and happiness. Of course, fate would have it that she would be the first to die – and with it, the Pack lost their link to the Spirit Realm.
“Why are we playing nice, Rex? We should be ripping out their ****ing throats, not agreeing to meet them so they can stroke their ****ing ego-” Emile snarled out but was cut off by another, the woman sitting in the passenger seat to Rex.
“Emi, enough. I know you’re hurting over loosing Amelia. We all are, and this doesn’t sit right with any of us, but they’re offering to play nice for a little while, and we shouldn’t waste this chance to settle it without violence.” Rachel murmured, never having opened her eyes. The Irraka didn’t reply but for a small rumble in his throat that faded out as his attention turned to something else – probably the window. Rex spared Rachel a glance; the small blonde-haired mousey woman was much akin to Emile in that one would not expect her to be a strong and proud Uratha. As the Elodoth, Rachel would be the pack’s voice in the upcoming meeting. She was quiet and reserved with her words and actions, but was just as willing to throw herself into a fight in a split second if her pack was in danger – any of them would. Though Rex was the Alpha, she had a way with words that he simply did not, and he often looked to her to find the words he couldn’t.
There was silence as the jeep turned into a small side street, heading towards the outskirts of town. They were almost there now – and perhaps on queue the final member of the pack spoke up. It was so sudden that Emile jumped out of his skin and the sound of a skull meeting glass was heard along with a small yelp – that was enough to make everyone smile just a bit. The boy rubbed the side of his head under his black hooded top as the figure beside him spoke.
“Don’t matter anyways; if they step out of line we’ll beat the **** out of them. Blood drinking ****s aint got nothing on us. Bring all the cheap shades and fancy suits they want.” Ross said, the man running a hand through his bright pink Mohawk as he flashed a wide confident grin, nestling back into the seat. Ross was the loudmouthed one who was always the first into the fight and last out, looking like the stereotypical punk rocker – which he quite proudly blasted around the Den on those rare times the pack had to rest. He was also the one Emile had bonded to the most, as Ross had really taken a liking to the young teenager. Rex glanced in the rear view mirror in time to see Ross casually reach over and ruffle Emile’s shoulder length curly brown hair under his hooded sweatshirt, earning a swat from the young boy, but a wide grin too. Rex smiled then; Ross could also cheer damn near anyone up despite their mood. They drove for another few minutes before the other vehicle came into view – a limo, of all things. Three figures stood out a good distance away, obscured by the darkness that permeated the woodland – Rex hadn’t even realized he’d been driving the car damn near on autopilot. This place was on the fringes of their territory, but still very much inside it – and just the sight of the Vampires put everyone into defensive mode. Rex pulled into the clearing and stopped the car; everyone simply staring out the windscreen for several moments before they got out.
Rex took the time as he got out examining the three figures – even in Hishu form he had rather good eyesight. And he’d be damned if they weren’t the picture of stuck up aristocrats. The leader was dressed in a plainly expensive black dress suit like you’d go to a fancy dinner with, his blonde hair slicked back against his scalp and, yes, black sunglasses over his eyes. It was almost enough to make the man burst out into laugher. He looked like a complete and utter prick. The other two – a redheaded woman and a smaller Caucasian man with spiked brown hair who was smoking a cigarette – looked to have bought their clothes from the same store as the leader. The redhead with a slim, almost attractive face wore a revealing red dress with matching high-heels and the other male wore a simple suit himself..
Rex heard Ross snort a laugh, but true to form Rachel didn’t give a reaction either way – quiet and meditated. The Alpha heard the subtle cracking of bones and the light thump as paws hit the grass, Emile having assumed his small and slender Urhan form. The small wolf was covered in a thick mottled brown coat of fur that matched his hair as a human, his long legs built for running and endurance. He padded up beside Rex with a soft rumble, before as one the pack crossed the ground between themselves and the Vampires until the two groups stood not fifteen feet apart from one another.
“Welcome.” The leader smirked as he pushed the sunglasses down his nose to take each of the Uratha in one at a time. Rex didn’t miss the fact he was showing off. “I expected you to be a little more punctual.”
Without missing a beat, Ross rolled his shoulders and spoke. “Traffic was a nightmare.” The Rahu replied with a cocky smirk; Emile snorted and trotted up beside his friend, eyes never leaving any of the Kindred facing them. The leader frowned, his face flashing with anger for a moment before he cleared his throat to regain his composure.
“I see.” He forced out before the confident smirk returned. “Our Prince sends his deepest apologies for the tragedy that has befallen your... pack.” He forced the word out as though saying it would make him gag. “My name is Alexander Belmont and these are my associates, Miss Amanda Jane and Alistair Craven.” He gestured to each in turn, the woman and the male, who weren’t taking a bit of notice to what was going on. Rachel pushed her glasses up her nose before she spoke in her usual calm, measured tone.
“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Sir Belmont.” She replied, her voice giving away not a bit of discomfort. “These are my pack; Lucan Rexford, Ross Eton, Emile Avaant and I, Rachel Noble.”
Alexander nodded his head swiftly, before he leant back and cleared his throat once more. Rex glanced at his pack to take in their emotions; Ross had a scowl on his face, arms folded across his chest tightly and Emile was trotting back and forth along an invisible line with his hackles up – he was the most uncomfortable, but Rex wasn’t worried about him turning the meeting into a bloodbath. He was far more inclined to believe the Vampires would incite it.
Perhaps the negotiations would have truly begun in earnest if the wind hadn’t suddenly changed in the opposite direction; with it came the horrible scent of cloying decay and something else; something none of them had previously detected. Emile stopped pacing, sniffing the air – his Urhan senses where the most acute. And then he started snarling ferociously, muzzle wrinkling into a line of large fangs and his brown fur standing up on end, ears tilted forward in anger. The Pack didn’t need to scent it themselves to know what it was – Silver.
All right. I will try again. If (once again) I feel like there is no real interest, I will not delete my previous entries. Instead I just won't write any additional ones.
I will begin anew with a rewrite of my last entry - The "Towers" - and if any interest is expressed I will continue ... from the beginning. I will go back to the beginning of the campaign and give detailed background information on all the locations and NPCs. Descriptions, history, and details that might be interesting.
Before I begin, a reintroduction. I am the DM that created the campaign world about which Winds is writing. My intent is to give a detailed explanation of the world and characters that surround his character, for his "Journal" style writing doesn't leave much room for such things. I will be covering a lot of information, and I won't stop until all that I feel is important is covered. If this leads to the entry being lengthy, then so be it.
`And now - The "Towers"`
Spoiler
The Name:
Let me first establish that I never referred to them during gameplay as towers. This is a creative choice of Winds or the character Kallach to show us a similar image with a more familiar name. What I called them, however, is Obelisks. The name "Obelisks" is not so common and as such might not immediately bring any form of imagery to most who would read it. At least not without pulling out Merriam/Webster.
Description:
The Obelisks are Ra's Rays from ancient Egyptian times. The most famous of them in the western world would be The Washington Monument. The Obelisks look exactly like this, except at half the scale. When dormant the have a subtle inner light which glows pure white. When active, they glow violently dark red and are wrapped in eldritch energy.
The guardian is the defender and key of the Obelisks. Each one having a different guardian, I will go into detail about them when I cover specific Obelisks. In general, however, they open the Obelisks by placing a piece of themselves within it (hand/claw/etc) and pulling down, as if on a lever. The Obelisk then splits straight down the middle and parts upon itself creating two parallel half obelisks. This reveals a stairwell where the Obelisk once sit.
Walk-through:
Entryway - After going down the stairwell the players are met with a giant double door with no obvious means to open it. Perpendicular walls to the left and right show normal size singular doors.
Going through the door on the left reveals the largest mound of treasure the characters have ever seen. Imagine Mt. Everest made of gold and platinum coins with assorted rare gem stones mixed within. Now imagine many them.
Going through the door on the right reveals a small table with a wooden bowl set upon it with a sign next to it that says simply "Tithe".
This is an obvious test. The solution of which is simply to place one tenth of your wealth in the bowl. All players must remit. If they were to try and take from the wealth in the other room, they would find that by no means can the gold leave the room. Physically trying to take the gold through the door is met with an invisible force at the doorway. All teleportation and interdimensional means of transport fail automatically, and bags of holding cannot leave the room if holding gold from it.
(This is something that Kallach's team never discovered.They always just Tithed.)
Chamber - Through the double doors the players find a large round room. The style is Roman with 12 massive pillars set in a circle around the room holding up the ceiling. On the opposite side of the room from the door is 13 Obelisks. One directly opposite and 6 to either side. Concentric circular steps rise in the center of the room. Standing on top of the steps is a man in modern day formal attire; hands held behind his back and nose pointed slightly upward.
-break-
Character:
Jeeves - He is the caretaker, in many ways, of the Obelisk. He knows of everything that goes on within it, and has certain powers over it. However, he is not real. He is not physical, even ghost touch weapons don't harm him. He is an illusion that the players can interact with to gain information about the Obelisk, although, the magic of the Obelisk prevents him from revealing certain details. He also provides a meal to the players if they stay in the Obelisk long enough. However, he never leaves that step.
-continue Description-
Main Room- When all the players are on the top step and have told Jeeves they are ready to continue, the step lowers into the ground revealing it to be an elevator leading deeper into the Obelisk. When the elevator stops the players see a large rectangular room. A long table set in the center with nothing on it. Large double doors on the far end similar to the ones they passed through to enter the Obelisk, and a variable number of doors set in the left and right walls (dependent upon the number of trials for the Obelisk.)
This room serves as an intermission between trials. The door they pass through is standard and wooden, when they first go through, but turns green if they pass or red if they fail. Pass or fail, they cannot reenter the room. The table in the center will have food if they stay long enough in the obelisk. Eating it fully heals the players. Once the players have passed a majority of the trials, the double doors open.
-break-
Trials:
The trails are where I let my imagination as a DM go wild. They can be anything. At first I intended each one to be a morality test. Then, I tried to incorporate intellectual puzzles. Finally, I said "heck with it" and used it as an excuse to try anything I wanted.
-continue Description-
Activation Room - In this room resides the final test. This again varies depending on the Obelisk. The one thing in common between them is the sword and the stone. The sword acts as the key to activate the Obelisk. By taking up the sword and calling out a deities name you claim the Obelisk for that deity. More on this later.
History:
A long time ago, when arcane magic was not regulated by gods, a group of wizards, exploring different dimensions, decided to create something "daring". Wanting to understand their gods better, they created a powerful magical artifact that would forcefully bring a piece of the gods home domain to the material plane. The ego of the wizards made them think, "Why should we travel there, when we can bring them here?" Thus, the Obelisks were created.
This artifact would literally bring two points on two planes together as one. Turning the interior of the Obelisk and part of the surrounding area into the home plane of the chosen god.
Knowing how dangerous such an artifact could become in the wrong hands, they placed several protective measures. They made the Obelisks invisible and incorporeal to all but those who know where (and how) to look for them. They placed a guardian with each, and made them the keys to open the Obelisks. They placed trials to determine the worth of any who enter it.
Even with the massive egos, typical of wizards, they knew they would not always be around to control the Obelisks. Not wanting their hard work to waste away with time they placed means for future generations to find and use them.
They created a compass that points to the nearest Obelisk, and shows their exact locations when placed upon a map. They created a caretaker, that will maintain the Obelisk and sustain the magic which powers it. Finally, they made all that resides within the Obelisk adaptable to the passing of time. The appearance of the caretaker, the language he speaks, and even the nature of the trials change to match the norm of the now. So that future generations won't walk in and become immediately confused by what they see and hear.
Time passes on, and the magic of the Obelisks wanes. The invisibility and incorporeality spells on the Obelisks fail entirely. Revealing them to the world. Inside, the stability of the magic that governs the trials becomes unstable. Now the trials may no longer test participants in the way originally intended.
Conclusion:
This covers, I believe, the Obelisks in full detail. If you have any questions let me know. If enough interest is expressed in continuing this series; Next is "The Island".
__________________
Some of Murphy's other laws.
"Professionals are predictable, but the world is full of amateurs."
"No plan survives the first contact intact."
"If it's stupid, but it works, it isn't stupid." -Capt. Edward A. Murphy- Newton's Law of the Road
"The object with more mass has the right-of-way."
Last edited by mebecronck : 09-04-2012 at 07:56 AM.
Reason: To show my signature
Sarah laughed and called out to one of the balconies overhead. "Lucy, honey, have ya caught all them sparkle fairies yet?"
The cat girl poked her head over the balcony railing, a deep frown on her lips. "I'm sorry Sara, I can't find them!"
"Don't worry, dear, them little tricksters are around here somewhere," Sara replied reassuringly.
Lucy smiled brightly, then disappeared out of sight. Lupin glared sternly at Sara, but the woman could only laugh.
"Sorry honey," she said to Lupin, patting him on the head, "but Lucy's pestering was giving me more of a headache than an indoor kobold concert on a hot summer day when I ain't got no booze."
I love this entire scene It just cracks me up. Again, you have a knack for creating extremely expressive and realistic scenes/pictures with a minimum of words. It's great! And I love the indoor kobold concert analogy. I also love how confused Lupin is by it... it's a bit of a random thing to say and I can just seem him scratching his head going "wha...?"
Quote:
Originally Posted by SleepyShadow
"Frickin' random encounters!"
Heehee But I thought adventurers love random encounters! I also love that this works well in character/universe as well as just plain metagaming.
Quote:
Originally Posted by SleepyShadow
Lucy shook her head, unintentionally smacking Lupin repeatedly in the face with her long pink hair. "Nuh-uh. Not until you buy me that airship like you promised."
"Would buying you a beer get you to put me down for a little while at least?" the halfling asked hopefully.
"Okay!" Lucy answered happily, immediately dumping Lupin to the ground.
Lucy has the attention span of a gnat, doesn't she?
Quote:
Originally Posted by SleepyShadow
"Well fine," she snorted, folding her arms indignantly over her chest. "I guess I'm a wiener then."
"Howdy ya'll!" Sara called out to them excitedly as the entered the theater. "All ya'll oughta come take a gander at these here photos I found in that there cellar down there."
I'd probably put a *** break between these two paragraphs. You do mention that they're on their way back to the theatre, but there's no scenes of them walking or arriving so the sudden change is a bit abrupt and left me going 'hang on a minute... when did they get back here?' - either include more detail about them walking and arriving, or just whack in a scene break.
Quote:
Originally Posted by SleepyShadow
Lupin feigned interest as he politely flipped through the photos of the theater and its long-forgotten productions. However, he stopped suddenly at one photo and tugged on Derive's pant leg to get his attention. Looking over the halfling's shoulder, he could immediately see why Lupin wanted to show him this one.
This is quite confusing... You change point of view in the middle of the paragraph and it makes it really hard to tell who's who and what each one is doing. You start out with Lupin's perspective and using the pronoun 'he' to refer to Lupin. Then all of a sudden, two sentences away, you're now with Derive and using 'he' to refer to Derive... At the very least, I'd say you need to change "... he could immediately see..." to "... Derive could immediately see..." we need to know exactly who is doing what.
Quote:
Originally Posted by SleepyShadow
In it, a much younger Jonathan Long shook hands with an unusual looking elf woman outside the theater front, with Frank the carpenter standing nervously behind her. Over the front of the theater was a banner that read "Grand Opening! Greyhawk Chapter of the International Church of Sound and Light!"
"No way ..." Derive muttered hoarsely.
Oh dear Derive... I saw that coming a mile away
Overall, I liked this, it was a good 'filler' - bit of exposition, bit of inferred action, good humour... giving us some plot details but without being boring.
Lord_Gareth
Spoiler
I gotta admit, this isn't my favourite thing you've ever written... I can see what you meant about having trouble working out which perspective to write from... it feels a bit clunky like you had trouble with it. I am a little confused though - which of them was actually your character?
Quote:
I probably should have realized something was wrong when Syra stopped talking.
I gotta admit, this bugs me... you never really explain why your guy (whose name I don't believe we ever find out) should have realised something was wrong... or rather, we don't find out exactly what it was that was wrong. You mention later that there was something she had "so clearly picked up" but you never elaborate on what that is. Was it simply that she realised the Sith was following you and went silent because she knew somehow she'd have to fight the guy and she didn't want to?
Quote:
She was Master Gu'do's (an older human man, though the name sounded like an honorific from another species) first padawan,
Don't do that. I hate parentheses used in first-person like that... I'll admit, it could just be a personality quirk on my part... though to be honest, I find it detracts from the flow of the snippet, I've gotten so sidetracked by the fairly long parenthetical that by the time we're done with it, I've forgotten what was going on outside! I'd have just said 'she was Master G's first padawan.' and then added the description in a separate paragraph.
I am fascinated by the dynamic that you show between them. The almost fighting and tension... I assume is caused by Syra's lack of desire to actually learn anything more about the Force... save what she needs to avoid the Dark Side. I also kind of get the feeling that while she's been reprimanded for inappropriate behaviour - Gu'do doesn't mind so much... I don't know why, I just get the feeling that it doesn't bug him as much as it seems to bug everyone else (well, your narrator at least). I think I figure if it did, he wouldn't be so patient with her.
Quote:
My Master and his small group of students were dispatched to see what we could do.
A 'milk run', Master Katarn had called it, and then he and Master Gu'do had shared an ironic chuckle.
Normally on such a trip Syra and our Master (and, for that matter, myself)
I is confused... who is the narrator's Master? Gu'do or Katarn? I would assume you mean Gu'do is his master, but you never actually refer to him by name as such, not the way you refer to him by name as Syra's master... and immediately after you first mention 'my master' specifically, you then go on to also mention Katarn, which makes me wonder if he is perhaps your master.
Quote:
A brief check of the computer systems suggested that something was out of place further into the building, and when Syra formed up on our rear I thought nothing of it.
I like the subtley of this... how you give just the vaguest hints that Syra knew something/someone was coming, and while the narrator seems to have figured it out now at the time, he didn't. Alas, though, it took me three read throughs to realise that's what you were implying, so it might have been a tad too subtle. Or you just needed a few more clues scattered here and there throughout.
Quote:
Then, just as we passed the threshold into the storage room that contained the supposed error, Syra leaped back with a startled cry. Just as we turned to see what was amiss, a force field cut off our access to the outside world, leaving Syra in the small circular room we'd just left.
The flow/sequencing/timing bugs me here. I feel like the force field cutting them off should coincide with Syra's leaping back - as in, that's what caused her to leap back. But that's not how it reads. It reads like Syra leaped back... then you all turned to see why and as you did so, the force field appeared. In which case - why did Syra leap back in the first place?
Quote:
"Someone's...coming..." Syra wheezed through her mask. "I know," came the reply from our Master. "Remain calm, Syra. Remember what you have learned."
"What, precisely, is that?" I asked of my Master through teeth gritted in frustration. "I can sense it now too - Sith, Master. Sith."
Now now, no need to be nasty I like this part, even though, I admit, I had to read it a couple of times before I realised that he was referring to Syra's having learned something... I thought he was wondering what she was sensing at first...
Quote:
Not a true Lord of the Sith - he wasn't strong enough for that - but an intimidating specimen nevertheless. He was human, but covered in scars from countless battles. He wore no armor, but carried half a dozen lightsabers at his belt, each of them gouged with the personal symbols of their slaughtered owners. He fixed his eyes on Syra and smiled a predator's grin.
I like this description I can picture all the scars and the idea of all those damaged lightsabers is wonderful. It also speaks to the guy's character without him having to say anything. I imagine lightsabers aren't all that light to carry, so the fact that he's got them all dangling off him as trophies speaks to a certain - pride.
As always, your battle descriptions are excellent. I love the imagry of the whip sparking and flashing and the movements are clean, consise and easy to follow.
Quote:
When she stopped, she ripped the mask from her face and snapped her whip into the panels on the ceiling.
Okay, this is driving me bonkers. Why does she rip her mask off? Is she concerned about getting sparks in it when she flashes the whip into the panel? Cause I imagine she's been in danger of getting sparks in it the entire fight. I know you mention it again later when she puts the mask back on... but there is no mention of why she took it off in the first place. And because the narrator isn't confused by it, I imagine that he knows in which case I want him to explain it. If he doesn't know why she did it, then I want his confusion to be made clear.
But I love that she uses the deactivated whip as - well, a whip. Good for her
Quote:
"I...have...been...called...a bad...Jedi. I...refuse...instruction. I...disrespect...my...master. I am...angry. Frustrated. All...of...the...time. But I...never...once...thought...of...turning...to...t he Dark...Side."
This speech is because she's wheezing and has trouble talking, yes? I want this to be made clearer. I realise earlier you mention that she wheezes while talking to Gu'do, but she only says two words so it's easy to imagine that it was just a once off thing. You never mention that the lung disorder means she has trouble speaking (though now that I think about it, it is perfectly logical)... all that makes this section seem a bit out-of-nowhereish. I'd also suggest not relying solely on ellipses... shake things up a bit, use a hyphen or a dash
Quote:
Syra shook her head. "Not...if...you...decide...to...give...our...way.. .a...try." When the Sith arched an eyebrow, Syra shrugged. "You...can...always...escape...later."
"...I suppose I could, at that."
This gives me the giggles. I love the way Syra seems to understand the guy and in her own slightly twisted way, she tries to help him. But the whole 'you can escape later' thing just cracks me up. I find myself imagining that they don't let Syra talk to prisoners any more!
Mabs
Spoiler
Quote:
Originally Posted by Mabs
Warning: Contains bad language!
Alas, the forum filters have replaced them with lots of ****, but the point is still clear
Quote:
Originally Posted by Mabs
Or; Never trust the dead guys.
Good advice that
Quote:
Originally Posted by Mabs
At any other time he might have cracked a smile; Emile was, despite being the pack’s best scout and tracker as a natural born Irraka, utterly terrible at hiding how he felt in any form. Rex could put that down to his age though – Emile had barely been an Uratha a year, and at only fourteen any normal human teenager would be entering a whole world of mood swings and other such wonders.
I'm going to pick on these as being representative of something that you seem to do fairly frequently. Long rambling sentences with lots of commas and other punctuation that really should be separate into two or more sentences each. In both of these, by the time I got to the end of the sentence, I'd forgotten what was going on. You wander a little bit, changing subject halfway through - the first one you start talking about how Rex would normally have smiled, but you end up talking about how Emile is a natural tracker and bad at hiding how he feels. A good rule of thumb is one subject, one sentence. And the second sentence you wander through telling us that Emile's only been part of the group for a while and then start rambling about what normal teenagers would be like. Which is an effective and interesting way of giving us a quick insight into Emile's personality, but should have been split off into a sentence of its own.
I can give examples of how I'd rewrite those to show you what I mean if you like
Quote:
Originally Posted by Mabs
She had always been the motherly one with a smile that could work wonders for everyone’s morale and happiness.
See the quote for a spelling correction
Also... punctuation! Your first paragraph had lots of it! Where'd it go? I suggest adding a comma between 'one' and 'with' - it'll help the flow of the sentence.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Mabs
“Emi, enough.
I find it amusing (and quite telling) that the angsty, angry teenager is being called 'Emi' - a distinctly feminine name
Quote:
Originally Posted by Mabs
I know you’re hurting over loosing Amelia.
Losing Amelia... you lost her, you didn't set her loose
Quote:
Originally Posted by Mabs
We all are, and this doesn’t sit right with any of us, but they’re offering to play nice for a little while, and we shouldn’t waste this chance to settle it without violence.” Rachel murmured, never having opened her eyes.
I like this - it's a very nice, simple way of describing Rachel's character without going into lots of detail. Your choice of words, and the fact that she's mumuring, thus not raising her voice, and not even bothering to open her eyes all build up a good picture of a calm, diplomatic, probably unflappable person. Nice
Quote:
Originally Posted by Mabs
The Irraka didn’t reply but for a small rumble in his throat that faded out as his attention turned to something else – probably the window. Rex spared Rachel a glance; the small blonde-haired mousey woman was much akin to Emile in that one would not expect her to be a strong and proud Uratha. As the Elodoth, Rachel would be the pack’s voice in the upcoming meeting. She was quiet and reserved with her words and actions, but was just as willing to throw herself into a fight in a split second if her pack was in danger – any of them would. Though Rex was the Alpha, she had a way with words that he simply did not, and he often looked to her to find the words he couldn’t.
I like the way you explain what an 'Elodeth' is without coming right out and saying it. Exposition like this is really hard to do, when the style of writing means that such in-universe terms are obviously already understood by the characters, but you still have to explain it to the readers without interrupting the story to just go 'oh by the way, here's what this means'. I would like to see you try this with the meaning for Irraka - it's not clear whether this is a race, a role or something else. Elodeth seems to be some sort of title or job, that's clear enough - but what exactly is an Irraka (apart from a good tracker)?
Quote:
Originally Posted by Mabs
They were almost there now – and perhaps on queue the final member of the pack spoke up.
cue not queue...
Quote:
Originally Posted by Mabs
Ross said, the man running a hand through his bright pink Mohawk as he flashed a wide confident grin, nestling back into the seat.
I love the pink mohawk (don't capitalise 'mohawk' by the way, it's not a personal pronoun or a name or anything, so it doesn't need it)... but I can't see a person as badass as Ross clearly is, nestling into anything - unless it's a willing woman
Quote:
Originally Posted by Mabs
Ross was the loudmouthed one who was always the first into the fight and last out, looking like the stereotypical punk rocker – which he quite proudly blasted around the Den on those rare times the pack had to rest.
This is another sentence that should have been split into two. I'd stop at the part where you say he's first in and last out of a fight. Put in a period and then add the physical description as a new sentence.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Mabs
Ross could also cheer damn near anyone up despite their mood.
I suggest rearranging your words here to "... cheer up damn near anyone" it just reads better that way.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Mabs
Rex hadn’t even realized he’d been driving the car damn near on autopilot.
Take out the 'damn near' on this one... I know what it's like to want to use a phrase you like, but since he clearly hadn't realised he'd been driving the car to their destination regardless, then it's clear he's not doing anything on 'damn near' anything. He is on autopilot.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Mabs
The leader was dressed in a plainly expensive black dress suit like you’d go to a fancy dinner with, in
You go to dinner with a guest, you go in a suit.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Mabs
Rex heard Ross snort a laugh, but true to form Rachel didn’t give a reaction either way – quiet and meditated.meditative.
Quite apart from the fact that in this sentence, 'meditated' is easy to misread as 'medicated' (which is what I did in fact)... it's also the wrong tense.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Mabs
The Alpha heard the subtle cracking of bones and the light thump as paws hit the grass, Emile having assumed his small and slender Urhan form.
I want more information/detail on what an 'urhan' form is. Also, I'm curious as to why Emile went wolf?
Quote:
Originally Posted by Mabs
Without missing a beat, Ross rolled his shoulders and spoke. “Traffic was a nightmare.” The Rahu replied with a cocky smirk;
I like this - quite apart from the fact Ross is clearly a smartass... I like the way you casually drop what I assume is his title (Rahu) into the sentence. Here is doesn't need to be explained so much, because it's not that important to the story. I want 'urhan' above explained because it's clear that these guys are werewolves, so what on earth is 'urhan'? is it a specific type of wolf? a specific form they can assume? this is kind of important to know.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Mabs
“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Sir Belmont.” She replied, her voice giving away not a bit of discomfort.
Why is she calling him 'Sir'? Is it something Rachel just does? or is Alexander supposed to be a sir? In which case, he should have introduced himself as 'Sir Alexander Belmont'. If it's just an honourific like sir/ma'am then it shouldn't be capitalised, or linked to the guy's surname. It'd either be "... sir." end of sentence, or "... Mr. Belmont."
Quote:
Originally Posted by Mabs
Perhaps the negotiations would have truly begun in earnest if the wind hadn’t suddenly changed in the opposite direction; with it came the horrible scent of cloying decay and something else; something none of them had previously detected. Emile stopped pacing, sniffing the air – his Urhan senses where the most acute. And then he started snarling ferociously, muzzle wrinkling into a line of large fangs and his brown fur standing up on end, ears tilted forward in anger. The Pack didn’t need to scent it themselves to know what it was – Silver.
They’d brought Silver to a diplomatic meeting.
I assume you mean silver the metal as it's dangerous to werewolves? I love the idea that they can smell it, fascinating having said that, if that's the case, don't capitalise it. It's a bad thing, obviously, but it's not a name or pronoun so doesn't need to be capitalised. In fact the way you've written it says that they've brought a person whose name is Silver to the meeting.
I love the last line - you can just hear the disbelieving 'idiots!'
mebecronck
Spoiler
Quote:
Originally Posted by mebecronck
I will begin anew with a rewrite of my last entry - The "Towers" - and if any interest is expressed I will continue ... from the beginning. I will go back to the beginning of the campaign and give detailed background information on all the locations and NPCs. Descriptions, history, and details that might be interesting.
It is interesting I love background stuff and it's clear you've put a lot of thought into what you did. It's fascinating. And thank you for cleaning up the formatting, smaller paragraphs and headings made it much easier to read.
Quote:
Originally Posted by mebecronck
The name "Obelisks" is not so common and as such might not immediately bring any form of imagery to most who would read it. At least not without pulling out Merriam/Webster.
Unless people read Asterix comics as a kid I do know what an obelisk is, but I see your point. And knowing that's their proper name makes it easier to picture what they'd look like.
Quote:
Originally Posted by mebecronck
When dormant the have a subtle inner light which glows pure white. When active, they glow violently dark red and are wrapped in eldritch energy.
That sounds delightfully creepy
Quote:
Originally Posted by mebecronck
(This is something that Kallach's team never discovered.They always just Tithed.)
I am disappointed to hear it. I'd love to see a snippet about a group trying to get out of the treasure room and failing. Sounds like it'd be fun
Quote:
Originally Posted by mebecronck
Jeeves - He is the caretaker, in many ways, of the Obelisk. He knows of everything that goes on within it, and has certain powers over it. However, he is not real. He is not physical, even ghost touch weapons don't harm him. He is an illusion that the players can interact with to gain information about the Obelisk, although, the magic of the Obelisk prevents him from revealing certain details. He also provides a meal to the players if they stay in the Obelisk long enough. However, he never leaves that step.
I love that you called him Jeeves. I like this concept - someone to give a little help, but not too much.
Quote:
Originally Posted by mebecronck
This room serves as an intermission between trials. The door they pass through is standard and wooden, when they first go through, but turns green if they pass or red if they fail. Pass or fail, they cannot reenter the room. The table in the center will have food if they stay long enough in the obelisk. Eating it fully heals the players. Once the players have passed a majority of the trials, the double doors open.
I like this too. I appreciate that you've given your players somewhere to get healing if they need it. My own DM has done much the same thing through our npc paladin... none of us are healers in any way whatsoever, and while we've all got healing belts, at the level we are now (17ish) they just don't cut it. Having a paladin-healer on hand is much appreciated.
Quote:
Originally Posted by mebecronck
Finally, I said "heck with it" and used it as an excuse to try anything I wanted.
Good call. I'm not going to show this to my husband (who is also my DM), because I don't want him to get ideas. He gets enough of those on his own
Quote:
Originally Posted by mebecronck
This artifact would literally bring two points on two planes together as one. Turning the interior of the Obelisk and part of the surrounding area into the home plane of the chosen god.
Interesting concept. I like it
__________________
There is no social situation that can't be improved if everyone was to go away and leave me to read.
Alas, the forum filters have replaced them with lots of ****, but the point is still clear
That's good :D I was worried. Ross expecially tends to swear like a sailor. So does Emile, when he gets moody.
Good advice that
Glad you think so! In the White Wolf gameline, you can typically trust Vampires about as far as you can throw them. I dunno why we thought this was go otherwise.
I'm going to pick on these as being representative of something that you seem to do fairly frequently. Long rambling sentences with lots of commas and other punctuation that really should be separate into two or more sentences each. In both of these, by the time I got to the end of the sentence, I'd forgotten what was going on. You wander a little bit, changing subject halfway through - the first one you start talking about how Rex would normally have smiled, but you end up talking about how Emile is a natural tracker and bad at hiding how he feels. A good rule of thumb is one subject, one sentence. And the second sentence you wander through telling us that Emile's only been part of the group for a while and then start rambling about what normal teenagers would be like. Which is an effective and interesting way of giving us a quick insight into Emile's personality, but should have been split off into a sentence of its own.
Thank you! I was on a roll when I wrote this, I should have probably checked things like this before posting it. I sense a theme is coming with your critique :D
I can give examples of how I'd rewrite those to show you what I mean if you like
Please do!
See the quote for a spelling correction
^_^
Also... punctuation! Your first paragraph had lots of it! Where'd it go? I suggest adding a comma between 'one' and 'with' - it'll help the flow of the sentence.
I think Werewolves ate it. :P Thank you!
I find it amusing (and quite telling) that the angsty, angry teenager is being called 'Emi' - a distinctly feminine name
I think this might come down to how we pronounce Emile's name at our sessions. When I made him, I meant it to be said "Ee-mile" and they found the best nickname was Emi. IC, he doesn't much mind this (unless he's in a grumpy mood :P)
Losing Amelia... you lost her, you didn't set her loose
We did once! :D But in this context you are very right, thank you ^^
I like this - it's a very nice, simple way of describing Rachel's character without going into lots of detail. Your choice of words, and the fact that she's mumuring, thus not raising her voice, and not even bothering to open her eyes all build up a good picture of a calm, diplomatic, probably unflappable person. Nice
Thankyou! Yes, she's much the level head in our Pack. Which, considering Werewolves are angry damn near all the time, is a blessing. She's the one that makes sure we talk to the people we go to talk to, not eat them!
I like the way you explain what an 'Elodeth' is without coming right out and saying it. Exposition like this is really hard to do, when the style of writing means that such in-universe terms are obviously already understood by the characters, but you still have to explain it to the readers without interrupting the story to just go 'oh by the way, here's what this means'. I would like to see you try this with the meaning for Irraka - it's not clear whether this is a race, a role or something else. Elodeth seems to be some sort of title or job, that's clear enough - but what exactly is an Irraka (apart from a good tracker)?
I'll add this into the story, thank you. I wasn't sure how to do it without making it sound exactly like that, but like I'll do later I'll also tell you here, so it becomes clearer;
In W:TF, Werewolves are born under certain moon phases. These moon phases, while not exact, are big big signs as to what 'role' a Werewolf will play in a pack. Irraka is the loner, whom is the best at stealth and seems apart from the pack at times. As spirits and the like are very much real, these are literal things - All Werewolves can fight, all Werewolves can sneak, but some are better than others at these things, and some can learn certain abilities to assist them. Emile was born on a new moon, which made him an Irraka. :D
cue not queue...
Thanks!
I love the pink mohawk (don't capitalise 'mohawk' by the way, it's not a personal pronoun or a name or anything, so it doesn't need it)... but I can't see a person as badass as Ross clearly is, nestling into anything - unless it's a willing woman
Ross - IC and OOC - is awesome for details like that. But very much yes, a willing woman would be much preferred I tried to get across he was getting comfy, but didn't quite put it across right I think!
This is another sentence that should have been split into two. I'd stop at the part where you say he's first in and last out of a fight. Put in a period and then add the physical description as a new sentence.
Shall do!
I suggest rearranging your words here to "... cheer up damn near anyone" it just reads better that way.
-nods- ^^
Take out the 'damn near' on this one... I know what it's like to want to use a phrase you like, but since he clearly hadn't realised he'd been driving the car to their destination regardless, then it's clear he's not doing anything on 'damn near' anything. He is on autopilot.
I have a very bad habit of that in this piece, it seems. xD
You go to dinner with a guest, you go in a suit.
Oops. :P Thank you!
Quite apart from the fact that in this sentence, 'meditated' is easy to misread as 'medicated' (which is what I did in fact)... it's also the wrong tense.
Thanks for pointing that out!
I want more information/detail on what an 'urhan' form is. Also, I'm curious as to why Emile went wolf?
I'll put this in the story in some form as well as here, to help you understand. And thank you!
Basically, all Werewolves can change their bodies into five different forms. They can either spend essence - which you gain in various ways - to shift instantly, or they can 'go through' all five forms to get to their chosen one. The two 'between' forms are the hardest to shift into without essence - Dalu and Urshul. The sizes I give aren't exact, as it's based on the size of the Werewolf, really. So Emile is rather small as a Wolf because he's small as a person ^^ The different forms are;
Hishu - The basic human, really. You wouldn't know he was a Werewolf like this, he looks like an everyday human :P
Dalu - You grow a little in height, bulk out with muscle, get a lot hairier, your teeth and nails grow longer, and you gain better senses. You can still pass as a human without freaking people out as some of the other forms do (it causes madness basically, which makes people not able - except in rare circumstances - to remember what has happened) and this is the form most Werewolves take if they need a bit extra muscle without freaking people out.
Gauru - Imagine a 9 foot walking death machine like the Werewolves from Van Hellsing or the like. You're a powerhouse, you're angry, and you want to murder everything in this form. You have a high chance of entering a Death Frenzy in extreme stress which makes you either flip out and tear everything to peices, or do anything to get away from the threat - and this is the form you do it in. People who see this freak out to the extreme, and in certain cases can cause literal madness. This is the form Werewolves take when they want something dead - mostly. Explained later! :D
Urshul - Imagine a Wolf almost as tall as a person, and you've just about got it. They have big teeth, they're fast and very, very nasty. They have the biggest bite out of all of the forms, and this is the form Emile prefers to fight in, rather than Dalu with weapons or Gauru. You'll see that in the second part of the story.
Urhan - Basically, a normal wolf. Depending on where a Werewolf is born depends on how this Wolf looks, but it IS always a Wolf. You won't mistake it for a dog unless you dunno what a Wolf is. :P
And this finally brings us to why Emile took Urhan - because he feels safer in it. Not only does he have much better senses than the rest of his pack who are in Hishu form, but he has very easy access to Urshul incase things go bad. Some Werewolves feel better in certain forms, depending on preference. You need, IC, a certain number of successes to assume each form. If you start at Hishu and want Urshul, for example, you'd need to get a sucsess on each form in between to pass by it. Emile used a point of essence to hit Urhan so if he had to, he could go into his main fighting form Urshul in a matter of seconds - or, in game terms, one good roll. :3 This also ties into the fact he never - ever, as far as I remember - took Hishu or Gauru unless he had to do so with no other choice.
And honestly, he's a cute puppy. :P
I like this - quite apart from the fact Ross is clearly a smartass... I like the way you casually drop what I assume is his title (Rahu) into the sentence. Here is doesn't need to be explained so much, because it's not that important to the story. I want 'urhan' above explained because it's clear that these guys are werewolves, so what on earth is 'urhan'? is it a specific type of wolf? a specific form they can assume? this is kind of important to know.
I apologize for this again, I wasn't sure how to drop it in without making it seem tacked on. See above for an explanation! :D Sorry if it's a bit large, I tend to get carried away helping people understand c:
Why is she calling him 'Sir'? Is it something Rachel just does? or is Alexander supposed to be a sir? In which case, he should have introduced himself as 'Sir Alexander Belmont'. If it's just an honourific like sir/ma'am then it shouldn't be capitalised, or linked to the guy's surname. It'd either be "... sir." end of sentence, or "... Mr. Belmont."
It's a Rachel thing. Her moon-sign, as the natural mediators and pack 'face' if you will, tend to be respectful and gifted with a silver tongue. Alexander isn't at all important in the Vampire scheme of things - or he is, but not to his Prince - but Rachel is trying to basically play up to his ego and keep things calm. It doesn't go well. But thank you! <3
I assume you mean silver the metal as it's dangerous to werewolves? I love the idea that they can smell it, fascinating having said that, if that's the case, don't capitalise it. It's a bad thing, obviously, but it's not a name or pronoun so doesn't need to be capitalised. In fact the way you've written it says that they've brought a person whose name is Silver to the meeting.
Very much the metal, yes. :D Silver is utterly horrendous when used on Werewolves. It is a sin for another Werewolf to use it on one of their own, but other species have no such qualms.
I love the last line - you can just hear the disbelieving 'idiots!'
That was our reaction, actually, OOC! :D But yes, it only gets worse!
Thank you very much for the critique! Second part should be up later today or tommorow :3
YOU'RE BREAKING THE FOURTH WALL! ... not that it bothers me, mind you. It is sometimes interesting and even funny to have the fourth wall broken. I also didn't catch any of the previous installments, so, as far as I know, this might be common.
@Lord_Gareth
Spoiler
This was a very good "Start" Wars snippet. Never heard of "Start" Wars before, but it seems like an obvious rip-off of Star Wars.
*behind the keyboard* "You see what I did there guys. He made an small typo and I made fun of it" (stupid laughter erupts within room, akin to that of Beavis and Butthead.)
I wouldn't say to avoid combat snippets in the future. This was very well written. I enjoyed it. At the end however. The ... broken ... speech ... of the ... character ... Syra ... made ... me ... think ... of ... Captain Kirk .... until ... I got tired of reading it like that, then started to ignore the "..." all together.
@Mabs
Spoiler
Oh, come one. The silver was a fashion choice. Who doesn't go out on the town in formal attire without their silver rings, silver necklaces, silver ear rings, silver daggers, silver nightsticks, and silver bullets with matching silver guns. See, the werewolves are just jumping to conclusions.
@Lady Moreta
Spoiler
Quote:
Originally Posted by Lady Moreta
That sounds delightfully creepy
The party believed this to mean that the Obelisk was claimed for an evil god. They didn't know that this is just what they looked like when claimed in general.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Lady Moreta
I am disappointed to hear it. I'd love to see a snippet about a group trying to get out of the treasure room and failing. Sounds like it'd be fun
For a while, when the party was small, I introduced a DMPC (tiefling rogue) with the intent of encouraging them to try. They were adamant on their stance of "no touching the treasure - at all".
Quote:
Originally Posted by Lady Moreta
I love that you called him Jeeves. I like this concept - someone to give a little help, but not too much.
Sadly, they never really used him that much. All they really did with him was, "Elevator, going down." ... in later Obelisks they just skipped roleplay in the chamber room all together, "Let's get on with the trials.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Lady Moreta
I like this too. I appreciate that you've given your players somewhere to get healing if they need it. My own DM has done much the same thing through our npc paladin... none of us are healers in any way whatsoever, and while we've all got healing belts, at the level we are now (17ish) they just don't cut it. Having a paladin-healer on hand is much appreciated.
The team needed more help later on. In Winds last entry, he first introduced the DMPC Healer. I added her in because I noticed a common trend of, "Fight, long rest, Fight, long rest, etc."
Quote:
Originally Posted by Lady Moreta
Good call. I'm not going to show this to my husband (who is also my DM), because I don't want him to get ideas. He gets enough of those on his own
Sometimes they were great ideas, other times they failed miserably. Our group met on April Fools Day, and it was a trial scheduled for that day. So I introduced the April Fools Monster. Rails Fopol, a monster that is invincible until you find out his real name. He was a three headed ogre, each head was the head of one of the Marx Brothers, with an enchanted horn that does sonic damage, and an enchanted cigar which does fire damage. He also had the magical ability to incite bouts of uncontrollable laughter.
It failed miserably, it took forever for them to discover his name was April Fools mixed up. It became annoying instead of funny.
@Lady Moreta - You read mine. So I will read yours.
Spoiler
Grammar check.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Lady Moreta
Uncle Norchan had taken one look and immediately realised he must have been pushed or throw from our apartments above.
... or thrown ...
Quote:
Originally Posted by Lady Moreta
He and I were to travel back to Celadia together and he had been surprisingly easy-going about my dragging my feet.
... about me dragging my feet.
That is all I saw. I always appreciate it whenever someone points out my misspellings or improper grammar. I try to give the same courtesy to others.
My Thoughts
I like the whole thing. I couldn't pick out individual points that I liked more than others, but I was deep enough in it that, when interrupted, it annoyed me.
"I will help you unload the car, later, I'm reading."
(I did not actually say this, and I did stop reading to help unload the car [new baby stuff] ... but I did think it.)
I do have a prediction, however, ....
*pause for dramatic effect*
... I think Uncle Norchan killed Calia's father. First witness is first suspect after all. He didn't have the heart to kill Calia, too. So, he instead sends her away; with hopes that she will not return. Possibly killed in her new profession, maybe.
Perhaps ... just perhaps ... the butler did it.
"How DARE you, Jeeves!"
__________________
Some of Murphy's other laws.
"Professionals are predictable, but the world is full of amateurs."
"No plan survives the first contact intact."
"If it's stupid, but it works, it isn't stupid." -Capt. Edward A. Murphy- Newton's Law of the Road
"The object with more mass has the right-of-way."
Last edited by mebecronck : 09-07-2012 at 12:09 PM.
YOU'RE BREAKING THE FOURTH WALL! ... not that it bothers me, mind you. It is sometimes interesting and even funny to have the fourth wall broken. I also didn't catch any of the previous installments, so, as far as I know, this might be common.
Both in character and out, it seemed...unwise. (And when it seems unwise to someone who made a deal with the devils by mistake...)
1. Let's see. 50 metric ****-tons of coins and gems, in the first room of a devise/demesne built to be able to collocate with a god's home plane without permission. I vote we leave the very likely guarded trove alone.
2. Also...the devils mentioned before are trying to claim these as fast as we are. Clearly, the thing to do is spend months clearing it out, and thereby give them a head start.
3. This realm doesn't use this stuff as currency. What good is it going to do us, given that no-one wants it?
So, that's the IC and OOC reasoning.
Now...I've done okay with the journal style. It's still going to be the overall frame, but I'm shifting to a more direct account to help keep things clear.
Note: This is...not a pleasant one. If I do a good job of writing it, it will not appeal to the claustrophobic, among others.
Earning trust
or: Only half-prepared
Spoiler
So. The half-celestial girl, Jessica. She's a very good healer, as I would find out several times later. I thought the warlock skill I learned to bind my wounds was cool, but she made it fairly pointless in short order.
Not a complaint, mind you. Better to have and not need, and so on...
Her motives made little sense to me. I'm a terrible at reading people, but I feel like there's something she hasn't mentioned...No one just goes out facing beings that can kill ordinary humans with a glance just because they want to do good. Particularly her, a complete pacifist. But whatever. I'm not telling them everything I know yet, either.
So, we passed the first rooms with the usual lack of difficulty.
Oddly enough, I'm the only one of us carrying any money for the tithe. I wonder what happens when I run out...Problem for later, I suppose.
The first room of tests was simple enough. Two doors, one with the usual portal, one with a library.
So of course we looked in there first. A library used by someone who built a tower like this could have some useful information...
Not a whole lot, actually. Mostly history and alchemy and planar research. Most of it in languages we couldn't read, and the ones we could were things we knew about. Save one amusing example...A book written by Cronc, of all people. Turns out I misspelled his name. Whatever difference one letter makes, anyway. Kol found the book, of course. Must be nice to have vision that strong...
"Cronc's one way to smash...Only one page. It just says 'Cronc SMASH!'...no wonder it was gathering dust."
I had to smile at that. "He didn't strike me as the literary type..."
"Wait...you guys met Uncle Cronc?"
Yes, Jessica refers to that monster of a half-orc as uncle. I didn't ask.
Kol was amused enough by the book to keep it. The only thing really use use was locked in a case. The books inside were quite magical. I even recognized them-part of a series of tomes that boosted the mental or physical abilites of the person that read them. The problem was the case-it was locked, and likely protected. A pity.
So, we moved on to the challenge. Either the designer was a cruel man, or he had a twisted sense of humor...the terrain on the other side didn't bother me or Jessica. Kol and Aileph, however...
Let's just say the Elemental Plane of Air is hard on those without the power of flight.
I caught Kol, Jessica caught Aileph. It surprised me...I have the advantage of magical flight. I wouldn't have thought a slim girl like her would be able to support both herself and the plate-armored paladin...but she did.
Note to self. If one of her kind picks a fight, I'm going to stay well clear.
Anyway, the challenge. Several reptilian, flying creatures. They didn't mean to eat. That was, as we would learn, the only method of combat they knew.
"Kalach, I fight better on the move!"
"Right, fine."
One shot. We managed one shot before they interrupted us.
It was not a pleasant process. I felt my lower body getting engulfed by the creature, then my arm jarring against it's jaw...the shock caused me to drop Kol, but that was the least of my concerns. Feeling the muscles close around me...the sickly *gluck* noise as it swallowed me. I've known worse, but repetition doesn't make it less of a horror.
Being inside that thing's belly...the acids of it's stomach couldn't harm me. The fell energies that fill me make fire and acid easier to deal with, and my body can't be hurt easily. But that thing was strong. I could barely move my hands well enough to form the focusing runes for my blasts, and it even pressed on my head hard enough to make speaking the accompanying words a challenge. I tried to climb out several times, to no avail...the thing was just stronger than me.
Still. I am a warlock, an arcanist whose destructive potential is unrivaled by any other. I was not going to let an overgrown lizard beat me.
My usual acid blasts won't help here. Let's try...
"RIME!"
It shuddered at that. I tried again to get out while it was weakened b the cold, but...no dice.
You wanna keep me in that bad? FINE! I'LL SLAY YOU FIRST!
"SMITE!"
That did it. The frost and the force weakened it enough for me to escape. I kept focused on that one. The others were flying around too much for me to shoot them well, anyway. Of course, me erstwhile captor tried to get me again. But my flight is born of my will. This thing faster than me-but it wasn't smart or agile enough to handle me rising or dropping to avoid its dive. So it went..we got them all eventually, and were returned to the hall.
The simulacrum called Jeeves helpfully informed us that, by the tower's clock, it was noon, so the table had been set. The food was...enhanced, somehow. It healed my body completely...and Jessica mentioned that it had restored her spent spellpower. Quite useful...though not for me. Drawing my power directly from the Nine does have its advantages.
The pedestal room awaited...though we had a challenge ahead, still. We found several...I assume sorceresses, but I only knew they were arcane in power. And several liches. All frozen in time. While I probed with my magic senses, Jessica and Kol wandered off...and returned with some powder.
"Hey Kalach, can you tell what this is?"
"...No."
"Oh. I, um...Why don't I try pouring it on these ladies?"
Yeah, bad idea. But I hadn't the least idea of what to do, so I let her do it...
Hue hue hue #1 morde NA.
...I do my best to entertain. Besides, brazillian is a great number.
Anyway, here goes nothing!
@Lady Moreta
Spoiler
Quote:
Originally Posted by Lady Moreta
In fact, the only thing I had going for me, right from birth, was my twin brother – Lukas. Even when we were kids, right up to the point our parents kicked us out – he looked after me, protected me. I’ve heard the snide comments, seen the sly looks, ignored the innuendo – when people hear that I live in an apartment with my brother…
I think you're overdoing the dashes a bit (I know how you like them). I think the last one is the only place it's really justified. The same goes for later on; the next paragraph alone has five!
Quote:
Our parents were SINners
Okay; now you've repeated it and I'm forced to wonder if the first one (the end of the first line) should be written this way too, if the speaker always uses this emphasis (of course, see my comments later...)
Quote:
living in a too-small apartment under fake SINs.
Well now I just don't know what to do with myself. Clearly looks like a setting thing at this point, but this makes me confused about the term "SINners".
Quote:
And if I one day broke that promise – just remember – all of us here are SINless, but as I said earlier, none of us are sinless.
Aaaaahhh! I would like this a lot more if I understood what was going on.
Quote:
He was eight the first time he got into a fight to protect me, 14 the first time he used a knife, and 16 the first time he shot a man – again, to protect me.
The rules for numerals in text are general at best, but when you have one in a sentence that stands out, it's usually good to try to interpret the rules to make them all the same. Here I'd go with "spell out all one-word numbers", since that lets you spell out all the numbers instead of spelling one and numeralizing two, while preserving "spell numbers under ten". Also the actual reason I quoted the paragraph is that I think "We were" at the start gives a more effective feeling, as well as reminding the reader that you're twins. Speaking of which, there's probably more you could do with that fact in general. I'm not saying go all-out cliche city on the twin thing, but you could play around with a couple particular similarities between them; that sort of thing (you've already got them as each other's most important relationship, which is good).
Quote:
I was already notorious for being someone you didn’t want to cross DASH if it wasn’t your fault, it would be by the time I was done talking.
You definitely need something in there where I subtly added my suggestion.
Quote:
I became proficient – or semi-proficient in as many languages as I could find someone to teach me.
This dash, though (the first one) really doesn't work. You either need another one after "semi-proficient", which looks really awkward to me, or just take the first one out altogether.
Quote:
It was all for the benefit of others, but ultimately, it was for the benefit of me and my brother.
Eh? I think I understand what you're trying to say--in that she's basically being a diplomat, so she's technically helping people, but at the end of the day it's just a job. I think this could be phrased better though.
Quote:
At 18, I learned that there is one thing a pretty girl has that is more valuable than her ability to broker a deal or arrange a truce. And at 19, I learned it was a price I was willing to pay.
Very suggestive of the age gap here. You could elaborate on how that came about or leave it to the reader's imagination; either works I think.
Quote:
For Lukas. Always for Lukas.
Kind of a weird transition from sad/sweet to sad/creepy, in my opinion, but I don't know that that's bad thing. Just... a kind of creepy thing.
Quote:
And times were hard and we needed the money (desperately needed the money), so I said yes.
We see them needing money a lot, but rarely spending it. Especially in a paragraph starting with them hoarding money, this desperation comes as a bit of a surprise.
Quote:
It didn’t take long to find out.
Nothing happened for two weeks
Kind of weird. The timeframe is fine--two weeks certainly isn't long--but "...it didn't take long. Nothing happened..." is a bizarre thing to say.
Quote:
I was pretty sure what I was about to do meant I’d never see heaven – or purgatory.
I think "- or even purgatory" is a little nicer here.
Quote:
him
I think this is done well.
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I was no longer the innocent, virtuous little sister he remembered.
Metaphorical at best, no?
Quote:
Can the same be said for you?
I like this, and I don't. It's a good tie-in to the opening line, but we've had no other real interaction with the reader in the intervening time besides a couple of partial references. Leonora's storytelling tone is very good and very consistent, but her talking-to-the-reader tone isn't very developed, so this line ends up feeling a bit surprising.
I liked this a lot. Very good dark voice. And as usual when people post great snippets from settings I haven't played I just end up wishing I had a steady group within 2000 miles. *le sigh*
@Winds The Game
Spoiler
Quote:
Make the guardian half maniacal murder-child, and half blinkered innocent. Wonderful idea.
Ehehehe. Nice sentiment; great phrasing.
Quote:
In the end, we settled on a 'game'. Yang will spend three days and nights hunting us through the mirror side of the city. If we survived that long, she will agree to open the tower door. She will do her best to kill us. This is complicated for several reasons. One, half the city belongs to her outright. Two, she needs no rest. Three, she knows the location of anyone in the city, even in Yin's territory. Note to self: Try to avoid fighting beings on their own demesne next time...
The tenses here are really, really weird, even within sentences ("If we survived that long, she will..."). Otherwise this is very smooth exposition.
Quote:
We acted out parts of books she liked. One called 'Through the Looking-Glass', mostly.
One can only imagine the hilarity... Great choice of books.
Quote:
More amusingly, the paladin summoned his celestial steed...to play a part we were missing...
Awesome.
Quote:
but the third day she kicked in the door. It hit me in the face. I did try fighting her, but my shots didn't really do anything.
Finally, we got though it.
Eh? This needs more explanation; by all rights it sounds like Kalach (at least) should be toast, if Yang "is likely powerful enough to slay us all in a straight fight."
Quote:
The door closed behind us, we went down on the moving platform...
I agree with the Lady here; this reads too fast and I lose the shape of the scene. Spend a bit more time.
Quote:
the paladin cast his gaze on me. My own magic senses told me he had done so, right before he started yelling...
Never good. Also, I didn't realize paladins could stop yelling.
Quote:
That got him thinking.
It did? Very open-minded paladin you've got here.
Quote:
He said lately it could inform you what your patron deity would think of a given course of action.
This seems weird/out-of-place. Are you using "lately" as "eventually"? "Recently"? The context is unclear.
Quote:
Transgress, and I will smite you.
Lol.
Quote:
I don't believe it...
Me neither, but more interesting perhaps is how your paladin reacted. Implicit trust because celestial? Detect Evil because Paladin? This is a good opportunity to show us something about the other characters.
Earning Trust
Spoiler
Quote:
She's a very good healer, as I would find out several times later.
I know you're technically leaving the journal form behind, but I don't think the "I would find out later" thing works here. Until you have an actual example, you might as well not bother talking about it, even if you're not restricted by your chosen format. And if you do have an example, why aren't you using it? I think it's also worth noticing that this is pretty much the only place that this snippet deviates from the journal style you've been going with; I don't think it's really necessary.
Quote:
Her motives made little sense to me. I'm a terrible at reading people, but I feel like there's something she hasn't mentioned
You've got an extra "a" in the second sentence, and you're encountering tense problems.
Quote:
No one just goes out facing beings that can kill ordinary humans with a glance just because they want to do good. Particularly her, a complete pacifist.
This is still Kalach narrating (yes?), and he's not a guy to mince words. I think this could be restructured a bit to preserve his voice a little more: "people" instead of "ordinary humans"; "No one... particularly adamant pacificts." etc.
Quote:
So, we passed the first rooms with the usual lack of difficulty.
Lol.
Quote:
Oddly enough, I'm the only one of us carrying any money. I wonder what happens when I run out...Problem for later, I suppose.
I think this belongs in the previous paragraph--he's referring to the tithe, yes?
Quote:
"Cronc's one way to smash...Only one page. It just says 'Cronc SMASH!'"
Hahahaha. Best book ever.
Quote:
Yes, Jessica refers to that monster of a half-orc as uncle. I didn't ask.
I guess that's possible... screwed up families ahoy.
Quote:
it was locked, and likely protected.
"Protected" is unclear here. Presumably you mean magically protected or trapped through other means besides the lock, or some such? As is it just looks redundant; either take it out or elaborate.
Quote:
If one of her kind picks a fight, I'm going to stay well clear.
Yeah, seriously.
Quote:
That was, as we would learn, their only method of combat they knew.
*"That was the only method of combat they knew". Also, pretty funny.
Quote:
It was not a pleasant process. I felt my lower body getting engulfed by the creature, then my arm jarring against it's jaw...the shock caused me to drop Kol, but that was the least of my concerns. Feeling the muscles close around me...the sickly *gluck* noise as it swallowed me. I've known worse, but repetition doesn't make it less of a horror.
Nice description (I love "*gluck*), with one thing missing--no teeth? If these are some kind of strange toothless flying lizards that's important to tell the reader; otherwise I get here all confused because I expect teeth.
Quote:
the acids of it's stomach
No apostrophe on "its".
Quote:
I tried to climb out several times
Ewwwwww.
Quote:
The simulacrum called Jeeves helpfully informed us that, by the tower's clock, it was noon, so the table had been set.
Hahaha. I like this description. I actually like this part of the whole tower situation a lot, where various parts feel like they're sub-metagame constructs of some kind, like Jeeves.
Quote:
Jessica mentioned that it had restored her lost spellpower.
Probably "spent" spellpower is better here than "lost", which makes it sound rather a lot like something took it from her and I did a double-take and started rereading before I realized what you meant.
Quote:
"Oh. I, um...Why don't I try pouring it on these ladies?"
Oh my.
Quote:
Yeah, bad idea.
You don't say? Love this snippet; fun fight (swallow-whole is always entertaining) and nice exposition. My only comment (okay obviously not my only comment but shut up) would be that, if you're really going to move away from the journal format, you should do something with that fact--let us see something that we wouldn't see in the journal. I'm really wanting more development of the other characters, since at this point I have only a vague sense of their personalities; their values; etc.
@Drowlord
Spoiler
First, I feel compelled to mention that I almost always spell your name "Drowloard". I don't know why. I do think it's pretty funny though.
Second,
Quote:
I haven't gone, just laboriously typing up a massive post up. It should be up by Monday, at worst.
Good to hear it!It's Tuesday.
@SleepyShadow
Spoiler
Quote:
Lupin slowly opened his eyes
Knowing what just happened, and even without, I want to see what he sees here.
Quote:
He found himself laying on a theater bench
*lying (or "laid out"). You lie down; you lay other things down.
Quote:
All ya'll done got trounced by that there Frank fella
Did she have the accent before? I don't remember it.
Quote:
"Lucy, honey, have ya caught all them sparkle fairies yet?"
The cat girl poked her head over the balcony railing, a deep frown on her lips. "I'm sorry Sara, I can't find them!"
Hahahaha. Good catgirl; best character.
Quote:
"but Lucy's pestering was giving me more of a headache than an indoor kobold concert on a hot summer day when I ain't got no booze."
Sounds like quite a headache. Sara's metaphors are hilarious. I think the beginning of this could be phrased a little more naturally, though. That southern sort of dialect is nothing if not laid-back and natural; "was giving me more of a headache than" feels pretty choppy by comparison. I was thinking something more like "That gal's worse'n an indoor kobold concert... etc".
Quote:
"You get all of your stuff back at the end of the battle."
Funny line, but weird in context. Where did his stuff go? Also, we find out in a moment that the battle is over, so why is this in the present tense?
Quote:
"Since gnomes make awesome steampunk toys." Lupin answered with a sagely nod.
The contrast here is hilarious. I love it.
Quote:
smacking Lupin repeatedly in the face with her long pink hair.
Wonderful imagery. Poor halflings.
Quote:
"Nuh-uh. Not until you buy me that airship like you promised."
Ahahaha. The best part here is how you communicate the past so explicitly by only alluding to it. You can picture the whole scene, with Lupin promising to buy her an airship at some unspecified to time get her to shut up/do as she's told.
Quote:
Jonathan Long's office
How do they know where this is? Was it in the book? The book is sort of generally mysterious to the reader still; it's unclear where it is or what kind of information it contains.
Quote:
his large leather chair rocking back and forth slightly of its own accord.
He's (presumably) sitting in it--how can you tell he's not rocking it?
Quote:
"We found a hidden chamber beneath The Paradise Theater, and inside we found a book about the Sound and Light club. We found your name mentioned in the book as one of its members."
"My master has the Slayer's sister hostage at the Bronze because she summoned him and at midnight he's going to take her to the underworld to be his queen." Subtlety, thy name is Derive.
Quote:
Mr. Long looked at her with mild curiosity. "Frank ... ?"
Hehe yeeeesssss. Wow it turns out all NPCs don't automatically know each other by first name!
Quote:
"Every good mystery has its fair share of red herrings."
"Like Communism?" Lucy asked.
I've got to stop reading this stuff at work; I'm getting funny looks. Great reference.
Quote:
Lupin and Derive stared at her as if she had lobsters crawling out of her ears.
WOW that's vivid! Love it love it love it.
Quote:
All ya'll oughta come take a gander at these here photos I found in that there cellar down there."
You're maybe overdoing it a touch here. Also (and this goes for earlier as well), it's not my dialect but I'm pretty sure "all y'all" is reserved for rather large groups, with "y'all" being more appropriate for talking to smaller groups (such as here).
Quote:
tugged on Derive's pant leg
I like the constant subtle reminders that he's a halfling. It makes for nice attention to detail.
Good chapter overall--you mask your exposition well (funny for the fourth-wall-breaking genre you write in).
@Lord_Gareth
Spoiler
Quote:
Master Skywalker founded the order again
I'd probably go with "refounded the order".
Quote:
but I am shamed to say that in my sheer relief I did not notice what she had so clearly picked up.
This is a nice line; your foreshadowing just keeps on building.
Quote:
Then, just as we passed the threshold into the storage room that contained the supposed error, Syra leaped back with a startled cry. Just as we turned to see what was amiss, a force field cut off our access to the outside world, leaving Syra in the small circular room we'd just left. Syra turned away from us
Lot of repetition here. Also, I have the same complaints as the good Lady--the sequence of events is either unclear or unintuitive, or both.
Quote:
"What, precisely, is that?"
This is weird. Why is the speaker questioning what Syra has learned? Up to this point it's been my impression that the two of them were on relatively equal footing, though Syra's maybe a touch older or more experienced (if they share the same master but she was his first).
Quote:
Since I'd known her, Syra had contrived to skip or otherwise avoid learning mastery of the Force.
Hmm. Strange and a bit unnerving; good fact here. The question I'm left with, though, is not "how does she spend her time?", but "how does the council allow this to happen?"
Quote:
Though her potential was in no way undiminished
*diminished, I think.
Quote:
the sound of saber on whip made an electric snap! that was blinding and bright.
A couple weird things here. You've got a sound making a sound, which is described visually. Also, "bright" is an awfully weak adjective to pair with "blinding".
Quote:
she was turning blue from holding her breath.
Ahh, right. I think a note of there being no noise specifically from her mask (when she goes to darkness) would help to make that moment less confusing. As it was, I read it and was stuck just wondering why she took her mask off.
Quote:
When the Sith arched an eyebrow, Syra shrugged. "You...can...always...escape...later."
Syra is a very strange girl. This is a very interesting conversation.
Quote:
Recognizing that this was all the thanks she was going to get, Syra turned and walked away, and with nowhere else to go, I followed.
Why does the speaker have nowhere else to go? Or does he just not know what else to do? What's his reaction to the conversation he just witnessed?
I liked this; your battle was excellent as usual. I didn't think the perspective issue was too bad, though I wish we'd learned a bit more about the speaker. One of the advantages of first-person is that we get emotions and so on from one perspective, and a unique characterization of events through the senses of one of the characters. It would have been nice, during the battle for instance, to get some reactions from the party on the wrong side of the force field.
@Mabs
Welcome! Does this mean this thread has now inspired at least one person to make an account? Sweeeeeet. I wonder if I get a referral bonus (one month of free membership awwww yeeaaaaa). If you've been lurking you've probably seen my disclaimer before, but here it is again: if you don't want my to critique your work, or if there's something in particular you want me to focus on, let me know!
Spoiler
Quote:
Stupid bloodsucking ****s.
I doubt the mods are going to come around and yell at you for bad language in snippets, but the filter is kind of a pain (as a writer I mean; when reading it's pretty clear what you're doing.) I tend to use the GitP filter as an excuse to come up with new curse-expressions, since I tend not to do it in my writing even though it's a good strategy for setting-building. Of course you're in a modern setting, so that doesn't apply much here. I don't know what this comment was trying to say anymore; I'm going to move on.
Quote:
The large thickly built bald African-American
Good description; I think you could lose the "large" and add some commas though.
Quote:
at only fourteen any normal human teenager would be entering a whole world of mood swings and other such wonders.
Heheh. I almost want Rex to go into a touch more detail about this. He's got a sarcastic tone that's entertaining to read in a narration.
Quote:
No, all of the pack – though only four – where still hurting over the loss of Amelia.
*were. Also, Emile and Amelia? Aghh. Glad she's dead.
Quote:
a smile that could work wonders for everyone’s moral and happiness.
*morale. Morals are the things you learn from fables.
Quote:
“Why are we playing nice, Rex? We should be ripping out their ****ing throats, not agreeing to meet them so they can stroke their ****ing ego-” Emile snarled out but was cut off by another, the woman sitting in the passenger seat to Rex.
The placement of the identifier is a little strange; putting "Emile" right next to the "ego-" makes it feel almost like he's cutting himself off. Better to introduce the speaker first, then have him speak, then let the woman cut him off. eg. something like "Emile snarled. 'Why are we playing nice, etc...stroke their bleeping ego--' The woman in the passenger seat turned and cut him off."
Quote:
I know you’re hurting over loosing Amelia.
*losing. Loosing means "releasing".
Quote:
There was silence as the jeep turned into a small side street
This is a really good dead moment in the conversation. It's hard to communicate this sort of feeling; you do a good job here.
Quote:
perhaps on queue the final member of the pack spoke up.
*cue. A queue is a (waiting) line. Also I just realized Lady Moreta already hit on a bunch of these wrong-word things. Oh well; I'll stop repeating things she said now I guess Just assume I agree with all her comments and have the same complaints!
Quote:
Bring all the cheap shades and fancy suits they want.” Ross said, the man running a hand through his bright pink Mohawk as he flashed a wide confident grin, nestling back into the seat.
Cheap shades and fancy suits-- awesome characterization of the other players in this situation. The period at the end of the quote should be a comma though, as the sentence continues beyond the actual quoted stuff.
Quote:
This place was on the fringes of their territory, but still very much inside it
Again, very good atmosphere setting. Not so explicit as to be annoying, but just enough to communicate something about the world.
Quote:
looked to have bought their clothes from the same store as the leader.
Haha, awesome.
Quote:
a revealing red dress with matching high-heels
This forces me to assume that she's wearing revealing high heels. None of the ways I can picture that are sensible, but some of them are pretty funny.
Quote:
He padded up beside Rex with a soft rumble, before as one the pack crossed the ground between themselves and the Vampires until the two groups stood not fifteen feet apart from one another.
Kind of long and kind of awkward phrasing. I think if you split this sentence up and reorganize it a bit it'll flow much better. As Lady Moreta mentioned, you actually do this a lot throughout the snippet--on average, you could make your sentences a little shorter and things would be much smoother. In this particular moment, you could actually make crossing that distance take a little longer, and be more descriptive--it's a tense moment; dragging out the prose would add to that tension.
Quote:
Rex didn’t miss the fact he was showing off.
What's he showing off? His sunglasses? His nose?
Quote:
“Traffic was a nightmare.” The Rahu replied with a cocky smirk; Emile snorted and trotted up beside his friend, eyes never leaving any of the Kindred facing them.
Again, this ought to be a comma at the end of the quote. There's also no reason for that semicolon; just make a new sentence.
Quote:
your... pack.” He forced the word out as though saying it would make him gag.
Nice.
Quote:
who weren’t taking a bit of notice to what was going on.
Rather than saying this outright, describe what they're doing instead. Looking around, checking the time, clipping fingernails, drinking a baby with a straw...
Quote:
They’d brought Silver to a diplomatic meeting.
Ahhhhh, well this will definitely go well. I don't expect there will be any violence in part two
Very nice snippet; I like that you took the time to give real descriptions of all the players. I'm looking forward to getting to know them more (and definitely looking forward to seeing what happens at this "diplomatic meeting"...
@mebecronck
Spoiler
I'm not going to hit you with a real critique of your writing, since it's not really a snippet, unless you ask for one. I will, however, say one thing and demand one thing. I will say that I really enjoy reading this background detail that Kalach isn't privy to and therefore never comes out in his journal. And I will demand that you write us some snippets, because your writing is clearly good and I want to see more of it.
Yeah. Just too big; it keeps crashing my iPad. I will just edit the post now. Most of your suggestions will be accounted for. Accursed days getting away from me!
__________________
78% of DMs started their adventure in a tavern. If you're one of the 22% that didn't, post this into your sig.
Aquaeris, Flowing Sheen.
Xacha, the Metal Serpent.
Viltasa, the Evening Star.
Yash-Ko, the Flame of the Void.
Argul Lugra, Lord of the Eyes.
Drow Lord avatar by Dread Angel.
@ Dr Bwaa - No! Thank you for doing what you do and I'll take it all into consideration! I apologize for not answering post-by-post but it's very late and I need sleep. I'll do so tommorow and hope you like this next installment too! I apologize for not editing out the swearing, as there is a lot, but again it's very late and I just wanna get this up for people to read :D
Of Wolf And Man 2 Or; never annoy the furry guys.
Spoiler
Rex’s eyes flashed between the woman and the other man once more, who flicked his cigarette away with a smirk. The redhead’s dress rode up enough to show a flash of a knife sheathe; the male having a noticeable bulge in his jacket. Ross and Rex immediately reacted; their body’s changing and warping, growing taller and filling out with extra muscle. Hair grew where they had been none before, or existing hair thickened. Features grew angled; teeth grew to fangs and nails to claws, ears tapered into points. Dalu form – not quite their strongest form, but certainly not fully human – that much was clear as day. As one the pair moved to shield Rachel, who did not budge from her Hishu form. Emile snarled louder as he moved with them, standing just in front of them, head low and drool dripping from between his teeth.
“You brought Silver to a diplomatic meeting.” Rachel spoke softly – deadly soft. Predatory, dangerous, so low one could hardly hear it over Emile’s snarling. “The agreement was that there was to be no weapons that could seriously harm.” Her lips hardened, looking rather fearsome herself despite being sandwiched between Ross and Rex, both of whom looked seething – furious. If not for Rachel, they would have already attacked, to speak nothing of Emile.
Alistair sneered confidently at the pack. “How could we trust a bunch of Mutts like you to keep up your end of the deal, hm? We needed insurance. So here’s how this is going to go-”
Ross snarled, fingers curling into fight fists, his muscles bulging as he stared down at the man like he was an ant. “No, I’ll tell you how this is going to go, you fairy ****er.” He snarled, his voice coming out as a growl due to his Dalu vocal chords. Rex didn’t even try to stop him. “We’re going to rip you all a new ****ing ******* for what you did, and you’re going to bend over and damn well take it. You can try and stop us, use all the ****ing silver in the ****ing world and it will not do you jack-****ing-**** you undead **** sucking bitches.”
Rex flashed a grin at those words, and even Rachel smirked just a little. The vampire looked furious themselves at those words, and in a flash had drawn his large, ornate gun – and then all hell broke loose. With a bellow Ross hurled himself at Alistair with enough speed and power that he didn’t have time to pull the trigger. The Uratha bulled the Vampire to the ground with a smashed the gun out of his grip, grinning ferociously at the creature as the firearm went bouncing off into the darkness.
“C’mon fairy, fight!” Ross sneered through fangs as his hands wrapped around the Vampire’s collar and in one swift motion he rose and hurled the vampire into the limo they had arrived in. The impact was hard enough to rock the limo and dent the metal with a crunch; Alistair slumped down against the hood, dazed for a few brief seconds as Ross advanced on him, cracking his knuckles.
Jane was staring down a snarling Emile, a savage joyful grin on her lips as she drew her small knife, spinning it in her fingers. “Come here, puppy. You’ve been a bad dog.” She sneered in a thick Russian accent, her hair blowing in the breeze as she completely ignored what was going on around her. Emile seemed to grin as his body shifted; his overall shape stayed the same but he grew larger until he was four feet at the shoulder, his fur growing thicker as he put on far more muscle than he had in Urhan – he was built like a tank; the nails he had in Urhan becoming large knife-like claws; his head becoming larger and thicker like that of a pit bull, his jaws parting wider as he snarled louder, tongue flashing out over monstrous bone-crushing teeth. He was to Urhan what Dalu was to Hishu; Urshal, a giant wolf straight out of nightmare. He crouched down, massive haunches tensing to spring.
Jane’s eyes widened as she backed away, her fingers closing tight around the knife. No more fancy tricks; she certainly hadn’t been expecting that. She gave her companion’s once last glance before she turned and ran towards the limo. Emile howled as he lunged after her, heavy paws crushing the grass as he ran her down. In her panic she leapt onto the limo with supernatural grace; her high heels not being suited to such a task snapped and skittered out from under her. She landed hard on her front and pushed herself to her hands and knees just in time for Emile to pick up speed and lunge, clearing the limo with ease and ploughing into her with the force of a truck and knocking her off the top and onto the grass out of sight. It took but seconds for her to start screaming in agony, accompanied by the sounds of bone being crushed and Emile’s ferocious snarls.
“**** that whore up, Emile!” Ross called to his pack mate, roaring with laughter as his mammoth fists pummelled Alistair’s face into pulp. The fairy had got in a few good blows, but his enhanced healing had taken care of that in seconds. Ross almost felt cheated as he lifted up the crippled vampire with almost no effort and slammed him across his knee, shattering his spine and tossing him to the side; pausing a moment to lift his heavy working boot and stamp the bloodsuckers skull until it burst like a watermelon. The Uratha grinned at his work and turned to assist Rex and Rachel with Alexander.
Alexander was far more agile and strong than they’d first thought; he swayed aside from Rex’s hammer blows and lashed out at an Urhan-formed Rachel when she went in to bite for his legs. He’d cut Rex across his chest with a small silver dagger; the wound stung like hell but wasn’t fatal – he pushed himself to heal it even as he kept fighting. It was only through sheer weight of attacks that they kept Alexander off balance, but they’d backed him up a good distance towards the limo.
“**** this.” Ross grunted and closed his eyes; letting all of the anger he felt wash over him. His muscles grew and grew, his fingers elongated even more into wicked claws that could disembowel a man in a casual swipe, his legs snapped and reformed effortlessly into those of a canine as his feet became paws and his face became a monstrous wolf’s head that spouted black fur like the rest of his body was as a long tail spouted from the point above his spine – he had taken the ultimate form the Uratha had at their disposal, Gauru – the war form, the shape that everything learned to fear. Ross revelled in the raw power he felt as his eyes opened – he was huge, easily eight and a half feet tall. He threw back his head and howled to the night sky; Alexander’s eyes widened as he realized what had happened – and he suddenly knew how utterly ****ed he was. Ross lunged forward like a steam engine as Alexander feinted a blow then turned and ducked away, running just as Jane had – but unlike her, his terror was so extreme that he threw the door to the limo open and dove in, slamming it and fumbling for the keys to start it.
“Scaredy ****.” Ross snarled out with effort, the voice sounding utterly inhuman as the Rahu advanced on the limo with long loping strides. Rachel shifted back to Hishu and hung back with a small smile, knowing the fight was practically done, though Rex stayed Dalu and advanced with Ross. Emile appeared once more, his coat and jaws matted in blood as he circled the stalled limo, tongue lolling from his mouth. Ross reached the Limo first and rather bluntly ripped the door from the frame, tossing it aside and grinning as Alexander all but pissed himself in terror. Emile lunged; massive jaws clamping on his leg with enough force to shatter everything below the knee and tugged the man from the limo with his powerful muscles. Alexander screamed in agony and raised his dagger to stab but Rex gripped his hand and broke his wrist with a swift movement of his Dalu enhanced hand, the knife falling away into the foot well of the limo’s driver seat.
Alexander hit the grass with a grunt and Emile let go, the Urshul Uratha sitting on his haunches like a massive hound, blue eyes staring at the panicked vampire with savage glee. Finally, Ross reached down and plucked the vampire up like a toy and with a content rumble, gripped one arm in each of his own massive hands and tore the Vampires arms from his body in a fountain of blood. As his gurgling, twice dying corpse fell to the earth Ross shrank back down to Hishu himself, panting from the experience as Emile fell upon Alexander’s twitching corpse and shook it like a rag doll, tearing open the chest and crushing the decaying heart within into paste.
“You should consider taking up something else other than diplomacy, Rachel.” Ross grinned at her as Emile shifted back to Hishu himself, grinning wide from ear to ear despite being covered in blood. Rachel gave a soft laugh.
"Naw, that can't be right." I say with a confused expression plastered upon my face.
*reads through the comment again*
"Huh?!? He likes it ... and thinks it is very well written." this time exclaimed with just a hint a disbelief, as acceptance sets in; although trying not to let my ego get to bloated from a singular compliment.
*stepping away from comedic writing to an actual response*
To quote Mark Twain, "I have been complimented many times, and it always leaves me embarrassed. I always felt they haven't said quite enough."
(Actually that might have been more of a paraphrasing.)
Thanks for the compliment, and I would like some critique; if you feel the writing could use it. Although, don't "hit" me ... I bruise easily. Especially my ego.
I may try writing in "snippets" later, when I feel more comfortable with my writing. These background/details/history/world-building writings will make good practice for that.
For now, an intermediary piece to hold you over for the next entry "The Island". Since Dr Bwaa asked for it, I shall deliver. A little more depth to one of the characters in the party.
-CHARACTER BACKGROUND-
Spoiler
I will be honest ... I tried to write this out in the same fashion as my previous entry. It just doesn't work. You don't get the true context of the character within this style. So, this will just have one thing. History. I will mix in the other details as I go along. So, this might have the style of a snippet.
Jessica
An attractive girl, with long blonde hair mixed with pure white streaks, large feathered wings, a lithe body, and pale blue eyes. This young girl lived a sheltered life. On a small island surrounded by monks that had long ago taken a vow of silence.
They have but two purposes, two goals in life.
1. To protect the sacred plant, that only grows on this island, from the outside world. For it is the key ingredient for making Panacea.
2. To protect Jessica from the outside world, for reasons never fully explained to her.
She was told, by The Headmaster (one of two monks who decided not to take the vow of silence), that this has to do with her father. She knew her father, very well. In her childhood he never left her side. It took quite a bit of convincing just to let her have any privacy at all.
Her father was a paladin of great status, a true warrior and hero. He fought his way into the Ninth Layer of Hell and slapped (with his long sword) Asmodeus right across the face, and returned to tell the tale. At least that is what she heard, and never bothered to question it. She knew her father was a hero, but it didn't quite explain why this meant she had to be protected.
Upon reaching her teens, she was left to the care of the Monastery. Her father, over time, started to visit less and less, but she feels like he is always watching. Upon these visits, he will occasionally bring an old traveling buddy. An old man with a fondness for tattoos and red robes. A quiet girl with blue skin and hair. Her favorite of them all, however, was the mountain of muscle called Cronc.
Cronc always has a smile on his face. A feature offset by the whole picture. He looms over everyone else around him, even with the fact that he stands hunched over. Tremendous muscles bulge from everywhere but his belly, which is girthed over from too much meat and booze. Scars cover his body.
When he visits it always starts the same way. He slams his axe head first into the ground and shouts, "JESS!" at the top of his lungs. He is loud enough to be heard from anywhere on the island. She would come running and launch herself into his arms, and he would give her a big hug.
After this, Cronc would share stories of recent adventures. As best as he could describe them. His grasp on the common tongue is tenuous at best. They would mostly entail giant monsters coming out to attack Cronc, and then Cronc smashed them.
Sharing stories was not what Cronc liked the most. After sharing tales of adventures and fighting, he would ask, "Wat yu wunt do?" No matter what she answered, he would find some way to make it happen. Regardless of his limited skill set.
You see, Cronc had a very poor childhood. In his youth he had but one friend. A young girl who learned to look past his monstrous appearance to see the kind soul who lives within it. She was tiny compared to the rest of the kids and tended to be pushed around for it. Cronc would regularly step in and fight to defend her.
On one trip out into the woods, she suggested taking a dip in a small pound. However, Cronc never learned how to swim. She insisted she could teach him and dived right in. She hit hard in the shallow water and laid motionless, face-down on the surface. Cronc tried to save her, but it was too late.
He was blamed for the girl's death and chased out of town. This event left two scars on his person. One is the lost of his first friend. The other was a pathological fear of water.
Jessica reminds him a lot of his old friend. She called him, "Uncle Cronc", which, after learning what "Uncle" means, made him felt a level acceptance and, for that matter, family that he hasn't felt in a long time.
The visits from Cronc, and others, aside, there wasn't much to do in the Monastery. She spent most of her time reading. Most of what they have to read is religious text and ancient indecipherable scrolls. The only thing interesting to read was Henry's secret stash of adventure novels.
Henry is the other monk who foregone the vow of silence. A large man with an equally large curiosity about the outside world. He trades in whatever he can to learn more about it. The island, being impossible to self sustain, needs trade with the mainland to the east for resources otherwise inaccessible. Each time they visited Henry would go to trade with whatever he can for information about the outside world. Books, portraits, maps, even just stories if they had any to share.
This attitude is frowned upon by the other monks, which would prefer that he stayed focus on his duties. His "mania" would reach its peak when he somehow managed to obtain and restore a small boat. However, even he admits that he does not have the courage to take it out.
Whenever Jessica would visit, Henry would let her read whichever adventure novel he just recently finished. Rarely having two copies of any novel, he would then wait eagerly to share notes on the story.
Reading these books made Jessica more and more eager to explore the outside world. Just to see what is out there, books were a pale imitation to the real thing. She was sure.
For a time, the tales of Cronc's journeys, especially how it always ended in combat, kept her from even trying to go. She knew well that she could not fight. Not for a lack of capacity, but for a lack of desire. There is not a single violent bone within her body. She was gifted with the talent of healing through the divine. She takes this as a sign that she is meant to help, not to harm.
Even this can only hold her curiosity at bay for so long. On her sixteenth birthday, when her father came to visit, she asked him a simple question. A simple question that lead to lengthy debates, arguments, and even yelling.
"Can I leave the monastery?"
It took quiet a bit of convincing, and several days, but having pointed out that she can never truly grow living on this island, the father let his daughter leave the nest. Telling her that, " ... if you ever need me, for any reason, I will always be there."
Before she left, Henry offered her two things. His restored boat, and his pristine copy of "Around the World in Eighty Days" by Jules Verne. She thanked him, taking the book, but refusing the boat.
"I'm out to see the world ... and to finally stretch out my wings."
__________________
Some of Murphy's other laws.
"Professionals are predictable, but the world is full of amateurs."
"No plan survives the first contact intact."
"If it's stupid, but it works, it isn't stupid." -Capt. Edward A. Murphy- Newton's Law of the Road
"The object with more mass has the right-of-way."
Last edited by mebecronck : 09-11-2012 at 09:24 AM.
Reason: Correcting grammar/spelling errors.
The tenses here are really, really weird, even within sentences ("If we survived that long, she will..."). Otherwise this is very smooth exposition.
Hurm. Grammar gets to be a failing of mine. I tend to rethink a sentence in the middle...usually I change the rest. Usually.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Dr Bwaa
Eh? This needs more explanation; by all rights it sounds like Kalach (at least) should be toast, if Yang "is likely powerful enough to slay us all in a straight fight."
We ran away, and she's a terrible shot.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Dr Bwaa
I agree with the Lady here; this reads too fast and I lose the shape of the scene. Spend a bit more time.
Part of why I'm switching styles.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Dr Bwaa
It did? Very open-minded paladin you've got here.
Heh. It may have helped that Kalach really hadn't done anything evil...
Quote:
Originally Posted by Dr Bwaa
This seems weird/out-of-place. Are you using "lately" as "eventually"? "Recently"? The context is unclear.
It should say 'later'...
Quote:
Originally Posted by Dr Bwaa
Me neither, but more interesting perhaps is how your paladin reacted. Implicit trust because celestial? Detect Evil because Paladin? This is a good opportunity to show us something about the other characters.
Detect Evil helped with the trust...but I seem to recall she has an aura of good, as well.
Spoiler
Earning Trust
Quote:
Originally Posted by Dr Bwaa
I know you're technically leaving the journal form behind, but I don't think the "I would find out later" thing works here. Until you have an actual example, you might as well not bother talking about it, even if you're not restricted by your chosen format. And if you do have an example, why aren't you using it? I think it's also worth noticing that this is pretty much the only place that this snippet deviates from the journal style you've been going with; I don't think it's really necessary.
My foreshadowing needs more practice, I guess.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Dr Bwaa
RE: Grammar
This is what happens when I don't proofread more. I'll fix this stuff later.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Dr Bwaa
This is still Kalach narrating (yes?), and he's not a guy to mince words. I think this could be restructured a bit to preserve his voice a little more: "people" instead of "ordinary humans"; "No one... particularly adamant pacificts." etc.
True enough.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Dr Bwaa
I think this belongs in the previous paragraph--he's referring to the tithe, yes?
You're right, and correct.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Dr Bwaa
Hahahaha. Best book ever.
That's why he kept it!
Quote:
Originally Posted by Dr Bwaa
I guess that's possible... screwed up families ahoy.
Well...extended family. They aren't related by any degree of genetics, but no one wanted to inquire further.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Dr Bwaa
"Protected" is unclear here. Presumably you mean magically protected or trapped through other means besides the lock, or some such? As is it just looks redundant; either take it out or elaborate.
Yup. I'll fix that too.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Dr Bwaa
Nice description (I love "*gluck*), with one thing missing--no teeth? If these are some kind of strange toothless flying lizards that's important to tell the reader; otherwise I get here all confused because I expect teeth.
I don't remember. However, as they didn't have a combat action bite and did all their damage by swallow, I'm thinking no. They're extinct for a reason...
Quote:
Originally Posted by Dr Bwaa
You don't say?
The results are about what you'd expect. Specifically, Incoming FUN!
Quote:
Originally Posted by Dr Bwaa
Love this snippet; fun fight (swallow-whole is always entertaining) and nice exposition. My only comment (okay obviously not my only comment but shut up) would be that, if you're really going to move away from the journal format, you should do something with that fact--let us see something that we wouldn't see in the journal. I'm really wanting more development of the other characters, since at this point I have only a vague sense of their personalities; their values; etc.
Glad you liked it, as always. I am shifting styles for that purpose. Will keep improving, I hope.
Lucy has the attention span of a gnat, doesn't she?
In and out of character
Quote:
This is quite confusing... You change point of view in the middle of the paragraph and it makes it really hard to tell who's who and what each one is doing. You start out with Lupin's perspective and using the pronoun 'he' to refer to Lupin. Then all of a sudden, two sentences away, you're now with Derive and using 'he' to refer to Derive... At the very least, I'd say you need to change "... he could immediately see..." to "... Derive could immediately see..." we need to know exactly who is doing what.
You're right. I should have clarified my writing a bit.
Quote:
Overall, I liked this, it was a good 'filler' - bit of exposition, bit of inferred action, good humour... giving us some plot details but without being boring.
Thank you
@Dr Bwaa:
Spoiler
Quote:
Did she have the accent before? I don't remember it.
I don't remember whether she did at the beginning either. All I remember is that I used that accent for her that session. None of my players bugged me about it, so my excuse to you is that she's a bard. She can speak as she pleases
Quote:
I think the beginning of this could be phrased a little more naturally, though. That southern sort of dialect is nothing if not laid-back and natural; "was giving me more of a headache than" feels pretty choppy by comparison. I was thinking something more like "That gal's worse'n an indoor kobold concert... etc".
Not sure on that. I've never heard a real southern accent, and it's been years since I last watched a spaghetti western.
Quote:
Where did his stuff go?
He was referring to Derive's maneuvers and how they refresh every encounter. I think Derive's player got tired of running out of spells at critical moments
Quote:
How do they know where this is?
Gather Information. Um ... Meepo the Shoe-Shiner gave them directions.
Quote:
Good chapter overall--you mask your exposition well (funny for the fourth-wall-breaking genre you write in).
Thanks. Just to be clear, it's not that I can't write completely in-game world, but I feel that some of the chatter that occurs around the table deserves to be written down.
Now I have a brazilian things to fit into a single snippet without it becoming too lengthy.
The Cliche of the Genre (or A Cat Girl's Worst Nightmare)
Spoiler
It was opening night at the Paradise. Despite their investigation, the three adventurers had been unable to find reason to stop Sara from putting on the show on-schedule. Despite her reassurances, Lupin and Derive 'knew' that something terrible was going to happen.
Lupin was on edge as the customers began to file excitedly into the theater, all of them eager to see the elven romantic comedy A Good Year In Suss Forest. Lupin knew that his comrade Derive was somewhere in the balcony to keep an eye out for trouble. However, the halfling had lost track of Lucy in the crowd. He worried that she had gotten into trouble somewhere.
"No time to fret over her now," Lupin reminded himself as he watched the line of patrons from the darkness of the alley across the street. "Like Uncle Jan always said, 'when you aren't sure what you're looking for, look for everything.' Hmm ..."
Lupin furrowed his brow and a frown crept upon his face. "Then again, he was usually passed in the corner from his turnip wine."
Suddenly, a hand gripped him by the shoulder. Screaming like an eight year old girl, he scrambled away from his supposed attacker and bolted out of the alley. He tripped on the curb and fell into the street, turning around with his gun pointed at the alley.
"Whatcha doing?" Lucy asked curiously as she exited the darkness of the alley.
The halfling turned bright red as he heard the chuckling of theater patrons across the street. Lupin stood up quickly and put his gun away, then began to brush himself off.
"Keeping an eye out for trouble," he answered her as he cleared his throat. "What are you doing back there?"
"Chasing hobos," Lucy answered with an innocent smile.
Lucy's smile slowly morphed into concerned curiosity as she looked beyond Lupin at something across the street. Turning to follow her gaze, the halfling felt an icy chill run up his spine as he saw Jonathan Long entering the theater, his arm wrapped tightly around Sara's waist.
"Trouble," Lupin said bluntly.
***
Once everyone was settled into the theater, Lupin and Lucy joined Derive up in the balcony. The murmurs from below echoed hollowly throughout the chamber, though the halfling dismissed it as nothing more than odd acoustics.
"Have you seen Sara?" Lupin asked Derive.
"Yeah," Derive replied tensely. "She's over in the other balcony with Long."
A cheer rose up from the theater patrons as the film began. Lupin glanced intermittently at Sara and Jonathan, and every time it seemed as if Mr. Long had pressed himself more firmly against her as he whispered into her ear.
Suddenly the movie stuttered and stopped, the projector making a horrendous metallic squalling sound. Someone from the crowd called out "Focus!" in a friendly tone. Standing upon his seat to get a better view, Lupin watched in horror as the image of the dozen men in blank masks came into view on the screen. The theater grew very quite as a palpable feeling of malevolence began to wash over the room.
The silence was shattered by a scream as Long pushed Sara over the balcony railing. She plummeted to the wooden floor, landing on her head with a sickening crack. Screams and the hackneyed cries of "Dear Gods!" rang throughout the room.
Suddenly, the image on the screen went black as the floor to the theater collapsed, causing another chorus of screams to reverberate across the room. Rising up from the darkness of the hole, terrified patrons gripped in its slime-coated tendrils, was a massive amorphous ball of black and silver film. It lashed out with its limbs, snatching up fleeing patrons and devouring them.
Regarding Southern accents: that example was more complicated than you'd expect, but not so bad as to be out of place.
@SleepyShadow
Spoiler
The snippet is done well, and the story is going places. As for Derive's comment about tentacles...well, it's made of film. Can't do much else with it, really.
You guys it is way harder to keep up with you when I actually have to be productive at work during the day. Jerks. Don't stop the rock writing, though.
Rest assured that I have read and enjoyed each of your snippets; they're all in the compendium already and I will have comments for everyone soon, by this weekend if not before. And you might even get a special treat from me! (but more likely you'll just get edits to some snippet that's already posted that no one will read).
Tentacles! I've seen enough "anime" to know were this is going.
@Mab
Spoiler
A boy standing in a lonely field. The Sun hangs low to the east. The child cups his hands around his mouth and shouts to Sun.
"CONTEXT!"
To which the Sun replies, "... about what?"
"What is an urhin and all these other weird words? I know it has something to do with the fantasy setting, but without more context they mean nothing to me."
"Why not Google it?"
"I'M LAZY!"
__________________
Some of Murphy's other laws.
"Professionals are predictable, but the world is full of amateurs."
"No plan survives the first contact intact."
"If it's stupid, but it works, it isn't stupid." -Capt. Edward A. Murphy- Newton's Law of the Road
"The object with more mass has the right-of-way."
Last edited by mebecronck : 09-07-2012 at 07:46 PM.
... I think Uncle Norchan killed Calia's father. First witness is first suspect after all. He didn't have the heart to kill Calia, too. So, he instead sends her away; with hopes that she will not return. Possibly killed in her new profession, maybe.
It's a nice theory... I'm sorry to say it's incorrect (I already know what happened to Calia's father), but it's a good theory
Quote:
Originally Posted by Winds
Both in character and out, it seemed...unwise. (And when it seems unwise to someone who made a deal with the devils by mistake...)
1. Let's see. 50 metric ****-tons of coins and gems, in the first room of a devise/demesne built to be able to collocate with a god's home plane without permission. I vote we leave the very likely guarded trove alone.
2. Also...the devils mentioned before are trying to claim these as fast as we are. Clearly, the thing to do is spend months clearing it out, and thereby give them a head start.
3. This realm doesn't use this stuff as currency. What good is it going to do us, given that no-one wants it?
So, that's the IC and OOC reasoning.
Oh, I completely understand. Leaving the gold is exactly what my own party would have done if we'd been faced with the same circumstances (though there probably would have been a brief argument with the warlock first)... I just think the opposite would have made an awesome snippet
Quote:
Originally Posted by Winds
Oddly enough, I'm the only one of us carrying any money for the tithe. I wonder what happens when I run out...Problem for later, I suppose.
I'm curious about why Kalach is the only one carrying any money for the tithe... that's not normal adventurer behaviour! Where's all the loot?
Quote:
Originally Posted by Winds
"Cronc's one way to smash...Only one page. It just says 'Cronc SMASH!'...no wonder it was gathering dust."
I had to smile at that. "He didn't strike me as the literary type..."
Heehee I don't think that qualifies as 'literary' though and I love that Kol found it funny enough to keep. I like little short sentences like that that are wonderfully descriptive of a person, without going into huge details.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Winds
Anyway, the challenge. Several reptilian, flying creatures. They didn't mean to eat. That was, as we would learn, the only method of combat they knew.
They didn't mean to eat us. Saying 'they didn't mean to eat' makes them sound like they don't mean to eat anything, ever, which is just silly (and would make them die really fast).
Quote:
Originally Posted by Winds
One shot. We managed one shot before they interrupted us.
I like this too. Good succint way of getting across that these aren't going to be an easy fight without going into lots of details and description of who did what.
Also, the whole being eaten process? Yuck. - so well done!
Quote:
Originally Posted by Winds
"Oh. I, um...Why don't I try pouring it on these ladies?"
Yeah, bad idea. But I hadn't the least idea of what to do, so I let her do it...
Oh dear...
I liked this, I like this style better than the journal style I think... it's easier to figure out what's going on.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Dr Bwaa
Okay; now you've repeated it and I'm forced to wonder if the first one (the end of the first line) should be written this way too, if the speaker always uses this emphasis (of course, see my comments later...)
Well now I just don't know what to do with myself. Clearly looks like a setting thing at this point, but this makes me confused about the term "SINners".
Yes, you kind of have to know something about the setting for that to make sense. A SIN is a System Identification Number (I think) and everyone has one (or at least, is supposed to have one). Most shadowrunners have one, or two or three, but they're fake and their real details aren't on the system anywhere. Someone who is SINless is a person who has no SIN with their real details (they may have many fake ones... Leonora has three, but none of them are real). Someone who is a SINner is someone who has a legitimate, actual and real one. They may have a few fakes ones as well (especially if they're a shadowrunner).
The juxtaposition of sinless and SINless in this case, was entirely intentional. But I didn't want to explain what was going on, because that would have ruined the impact... and this was backstory anyway...
Quote:
Originally Posted by Dr Bwaa
Here I'd go with "spell out all one-word numbers", since that lets you spell out all the numbers instead of spelling one and numeralizing two, while preserving "spell numbers under ten".
Good point.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Dr Bwaa
Eh? I think I understand what you're trying to say--in that she's basically being a diplomat, so she's technically helping people, but at the end of the day it's just a job. I think this could be phrased better though.
Yes, and on a second reading, I think you're right... it's a bit clumsy.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Dr Bwaa
Very suggestive of the age gap here. You could elaborate on how that came about or leave it to the reader's imagination; either works I think.
I... don't quite get what you mean here.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Dr Bwaa
Kind of a weird transition from sad/sweet to sad/creepy, in my opinion, but I don't know that that's bad thing. Just... a kind of creepy thing.
It was meant to be kind of creepy, so I'll take that as a compliment. (I don't know about creepy so much as 'not happy' so meh, I'll take it anyway.)
Quote:
Originally Posted by Dr Bwaa
Kind of weird. The timeframe is fine--two weeks certainly isn't long--but "...it didn't take long. Nothing happened..." is a bizarre thing to say.
If it makes you feel any better, I didn't like that part when I wrote it either.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Dr Bwaa
Metaphorical at best, no?
Technically, Leonora is younger than Lukas, and also shorter/smaller, so yes, she is the little sister it was also meant as a kind of telling comment on the way they see themselves. There's not a huge difference between them in age (or height for that matter), but she still refers to herself as the 'little' sister because that's how Lukas sees her.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Dr Bwaa
I like this, and I don't. It's a good tie-in to the opening line, but we've had no other real interaction with the reader in the intervening time besides a couple of partial references. Leonora's storytelling tone is very good and very consistent, but her talking-to-the-reader tone isn't very developed, so this line ends up feeling a bit surprising.
That's because I wasn't able to make up my mind whether she was actually talking to someone or just sort of talking to herself. In the end, it reads to me, like she's actually just talking to herself, but she's doing so as if she's talking to someone else. This of course, makes perfect sense to me (and is thusly obvious) because that's what I do all the time. I tend to talk to myself a lot and the usual way I do so, is as if I'm talking or reciting to another person. It's a bit odd... but mostly it was just because I had struggled to get started writing this and that first line just made it easier...
Also, I do intend to read the other things that have been posted, but I have a splitting headache right now and it's kinda hard to concentrate on anything at the moment.
__________________
There is no social situation that can't be improved if everyone was to go away and leave me to read.
This is a snippet from the middle of a campaign I am in now where my character is a double agent for the BBEG. I wrote out the whole campaign actually but this is the only part I really liked.
The Destruction of Amolarr: Part 1
Spoiler
At last we have left the barbarian tribes and their wastes and made our way to the city of Amolarr. The cold in this region seems to chill the hearts of those who make their lives here, which makes it difficult for outsiders to establish relations with them. Even I found it challenging to convince the guard to open the city gates to us. In the end, however, the name of the southern dragons strikes fear into even the most obstinate hearts and we were allowed passage.
A cursory appraisal of the city’s interior was enough to lay bare the nature of its inhabitants. This was a city built on the backs of the impoverished, fueled by their skills, and managed by a cunning nobility. This much was certain based on the rows of tidy shops that lined the streets. They featured finely crafted items in their windows, but further inside there was no workbench, no smelting fire, no sign at all of the sort of mess that real crafting entails. If I had to have guessed I would say the goods were bought cheaper elsewhere. Those who shopped in this district did so because if they ever met the real masters, they would gasp at the horror of associating with one so below their status.
A few gossiping aristocrats confirmed my suspicions, “…prices in the dwarven district are ruining…”
Ah yes, dwarves, that would do it: a race so skilled at crafting and architecture, but so poor with words and no patience for politics. They basically cried out for mistreatment by their very nature. The supplies we needed would be cheapest in the dwarven district, so I suggested we pay it a visit. It was an inconvenient walk, far from the main gates. We rounded several corners, finding less glamor and more filth the farther we went, until we came upon a smaller square packed with twice the shops of the main district. We found a potion shop first and packed ourselves inside.
The shop was built for dwarves, and by consequence the ceilings were low and most of the room’s meager space was occupied by a working cauldron and a wall-length shelf of spell components. The floor was littered with dust and little pieces of herbs. These were the marks of a true craftsman, and I was glad to have come to the right place.
A cheery, red faced dwarf welcomed us from behind the counter, “Good day to ya’ lads ‘n lassie. What c’n I do for yeh?”
“We’re looking for healing potions” the barbarian, Malakar, answered.
“Aye then, I got all the healing potions yeh could ever want” the dwarf bellowed as he produced from behind him an array of potion bottles of differing hues, “now here yeh got yer cure lights, your cure moderates, yer cure serious and for the really tough wounds, yer cure criticals.” He pointed to each bottle in turn.
“How much for cure light?” Malakar asked.
“70 gold, lad, or 10 for 600” He offered.
I frowned. He was bumping the price up because he thought we were
nobility. I wondered what prices he sold wholesale to the fools in the main district. Probably more. I was in no mood to part with that much gold, though, so I worked a charm on him and asked him again.
“How about 40 for one?” I offered politely as the spell took hold, forcing the dwarf to regard me as an old friend.
“O' course, lass, that sounds fair.” He replied affectionately “or 10 for 350.”
We made the deal, absconding with 10 potions each before the spell wore off. We headed for the nearest tavern to stay the night. I was looking forward to a hot meal and a comfortable bed when the nearest tavern found us, in the form of a drunken dwarf being hurled out of a window into the snow before us. Warm light and hearty laughter flowed from within, along with shouts of “take yer preachin elsewhere yer holiness!”
Malakar lent the dwarf a hand and dragged him out of the snow, displaying his oft unnoticed barbarian strength. The stranger was tall for a dwarf with a bright red beard the likes of which one would expect and a smile to match. He thanked us for our help and against my wishes the business of introductions was initiated.
“I am Bronn” the dwarf mustered, “servant of Torag.”
“Kepesk of the southern dragons” I replied dutifully, though making the acquaintance of a paladin was not something I wanted or needed.
Just as I was hoping this holy warrior wasn’t the prying sort, the damned fool muttered an almost inaudible prayer and I knew my secret was out. I extrapolated from the shock on his face that his detect evil spell had yielded results. I imagined overwhelmingly powerful evil woven through my very blood, originating from a tattoo on my clavicle. My own allegiance would probably be undetectable in comparison, but I still had some explaining to do. I prepared mentally to play at ignorance. If I had to, perhaps a misleading truth about the nature of sorcery. Some admission of the evil dragons I once served. If it came down to it, a threat. Anything but the truth.
“By asmodeous left testicle!” the paladin shouted, “Lass! What is WRONG with your shoulder?”
I donned my most innocent and confused face, “I have no idea what you’re talking about, friend.”
“Well we have to get you to a temple straight away!” He uttered, taking my hand.
“I don’t think so” I said sharply, pulling my hand away, “I think you might be drunk.”
My companions were eyeing me skeptically, which made me more uncomfortable. These fools should trust me completely, but I knew they had their doubts ever since we had joined the Brotherhood. Dragging them into my infiltration of a secret society had been necessary, but it had also put a strain on our working relationship as I kept more and more information from them. I opted to disengage, walking away from the group purposefully into the tavern.
Inside I sat at the bar and ordered a meal. The paladin and my companions entered after, but only the paladin approached me again. Fortunately he was stopped by the barkeep who told him to leave before his in had to deal with another broken window. As they argued I picked up some chatter from the rest of the room.
“Who does that paladin think he is, preaching to us while our families starve.” Said one.
“Torag can’t help us now, we’re on our own” muttered another.
“If he don’t leave I’ll slit the bastards throat meself” wheezed the man beside me.
The consensus was clear, and added another feature to my understanding of this city. Among these dwarves, religion was not welcome. Their living conditions were so dismal, this usually noble race had turned its back on their gods, on their hope, and to some extend their heritage. These were desperate, violent people, propping up the entire city with their blood. They were realizing they had nothing to lose and they were ready to do something about it.
It was during these musings that a familiar glint caught my eye. A man at the opposite end of the bar tipped his hat to me, revealing a silver amulet in the shape of a wolf’s head. I pulled back my sleeve to reveal my own. He wanted to speak with me, and in this I knew I would have the barbarian’s support. I found him in the crowd, flashed my amulet, and motioned for him to come distract the nosey paladin. He did as he was bid and I was able to approach the agent.
“Evening brother” I spoke softly to the man, “what can I do for you?”
“Sit, sister” he answered, “as it happens, it seems we have a revolution on our hands.”
The agent explained the situation in the city as I had suspected. The seeds of revolution had been planted years ago with high taxes on crafted goods, laws restricting entrance to the city to outsiders, and an underlying racism that kept the dwarven population oppressed. However, an opening in the city council had sparked many dwarves to action. One candidate, an old scholar named Soluth, advocated better working conditions for dwarves within the city, strengthening trade with the barbarian tribes, and a more lenient policy to allow outsiders access to the city. The other, Kathull, was a younger man from a noble family who called for a crackdown on dwarven weapon smithing and cutting ties with the barbarian tribes.
“I fear that if the council does not make this decision soon, this entire area could become destabilized” the agent finished, “it doesn’t matter who wins, but one or the other must be elected soon or we will have bloodshed on our hands.”
“We’ll take care of it” I promised.
I was glad to have some common ground with the barbarian again. I explained the situation to him, playing up the fate of his precious tribes in the mix. It was decided that tomorrow we would endeavor to campaign for the right candidate and stabilize the city. I paid for our rooms and one by one we turned in for the night.
I was so glad to lay in a real bed again that I fell asleep almost instantly. I slept comfortably, but it could not last. After a few hours I felt a familiar presence in my mind.
“Kepesk” the voice of a man prodded gently, “it has been thirty days, what have you to report?” Through the fog of my dreams the image of my employer came into focus. It was the first time I had ever seen him without the half mask he wore in front of enemies. His face was strong and serious. He wore black robes, but his dark red hair was exposed. I nearly didn’t recognize him.
“I have had little contact with the brotherhood before today” I began my report. I informed him of my movements and the movements of my group since my last report. I listed the cities we had visited where we had found no agent of the brotherhood stationed, I told what I had gathered of barbarian customs from our time in the wastes, and I gave a detailed assessment of this city’s gathering revolution and the brotherhood’s intentions to stabilize the situation.
“You have done well, agent” the man in black said, “this city’s instability pleases me. If these godless dwarves need a savior, they might be more inclined to join me. Do as the brotherhood asks with these councilors, but insure that their stability does not last long.”
“Are you sure, sir?” I managed, “if you want the brotherhood to trust me, I ultimately will have to help them in some ways. This might be a good time to build that.” The man in black usually respected my ideas when we disagreed, a quality that insured my loyalty almost as much as his vision.
“You are correct” he conceded, “but I feel there is an obvious choice that will lead this city to ruin much more quickly than the brotherhood realizes. This man, Kathull, you must support him.”
“Of course, sir, it will be done.” I told him, knowing this was not going to win me favor with the barbarian or the paladin who seemed insistent on following us around. That was my problem, though, not the man in black’s.
He nodded solemnly and for a moment I saw the strain of battle on his face, “I will need strong reinforcements within the year. Set this city on a path to destruction as quickly as you can and report to me any developments. As always, I will be watching.”
Then he was gone, as I sunk back into my dreams I felt a growing excitement that tomorrow would be far more challenging than I had planned. I could easily stabilize a government, but it was so much more fun to knock out the foundation and watch it fall.
Last edited by PaperMustache : 09-16-2012 at 04:00 PM.
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Re: D&D Snippets II: The Snippetting
that'll serve me right for assuming everyone is using the same rulebooks
I just wanted some in-character fluff for it 
I love this part. I love your character's dry sense of humour.
Love it.
I suggest adding a comma between 'one' and 'with' - it'll help the flow of the sentence.
One can only imagine the hilarity... Great choice of books.
- so well done!
