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Thread: A Bitter Quest

  1. #241

    internet down

    currentley m internet is down. Reported to ISP waiting. Did this with my kindle
    "The small town of Swampspittle is a charming reminder of how Faerun use to be.Plague victims crawl eloquently down it's dung filled streets; greasing the way with puss from thier buboes.While at least two children a week are burnt as the devil in the handsome market square. The town boasts two taverns, one humourous dwarf and a shop that sells little things made of straw."

  2. #242
    Gadreun's Avatar
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    ahhhhh no problem. will be here if you connect
    Ultimate license

  3. #243
    UP! ip is 120.29.240.138 just finishing up A few things
    "The small town of Swampspittle is a charming reminder of how Faerun use to be.Plague victims crawl eloquently down it's dung filled streets; greasing the way with puss from thier buboes.While at least two children a week are burnt as the devil in the handsome market square. The town boasts two taverns, one humourous dwarf and a shop that sells little things made of straw."

  4. #244
    isp down again may as well call it. ISP is obviously having isues
    "The small town of Swampspittle is a charming reminder of how Faerun use to be.Plague victims crawl eloquently down it's dung filled streets; greasing the way with puss from thier buboes.While at least two children a week are burnt as the devil in the handsome market square. The town boasts two taverns, one humourous dwarf and a shop that sells little things made of straw."

  5. #245
    Well heres this at least.

    MEANWHILE BACK AT THE RANCH..............

    The dwarf stuck his chestplate in salute.

    "Commander we have the Duergar on the run and have secured the main hall and forge"

    Durgan turned to face the dwarf stoking his long beard, "Very good Greo, has Spard and his boys reported back yet?"

    "Not yet sir, but that tis to be expected. These halls are huge and it will take time to explore them all."

    Durgan nodded, "And dis dragon my brother spoke of what have the scouts to say?"

    "Gone sir, there were a few gems and coin left but it appears its cleared out and taken its horde with it"

    "Tis a pity. But to be expected I guess. Still we can't be.."
    The sound of pounding feet attracted Durgan's attention, "AH! heres's one of Spards boys now. What to report?"

    "Sir, Greo reports that we have found a dwarven prisoner", said a young dwarf

    "One of ours?"

    "No sir, a female. She said she had been captured by a human wizard and held here for some months"

    "What! didnt Spard read the reports? That girl is probably the demon my brother spoke of!!"

    "But sir? Your report said a Human girl"

    Durgan pushes the younger dwarf out of the way "YOU FOOL!" pointing at several dwarven warrors in the room , "You fellows with me; quick about it"

    The younger dwarf led the way while Durgan and several doughty warriors followed. He supposed Spard (although a damnable idiot) could handle any problems;
    as he and his warriors were all battle tested, but he couldnt rid himself of that worm of doubt that nawed at his gut.

    As Durgan came around the corner he stopped. Before him and the others was a scene of total carnage. The bloodly corpse of Spard and his men lay about
    the corridor, some with thier guts spilt, other with thier heads removed. Blood and gore ran slowly down the old worked brick walls and all was total slience.

    A noise, softly at first then becoming louder. Durgan could hear a light feminine laughter echoing through out the corridor. "Ah so much entertainment after so many years"....
    Last edited by Willot; July 21st, 2013 at 03:35.
    "The small town of Swampspittle is a charming reminder of how Faerun use to be.Plague victims crawl eloquently down it's dung filled streets; greasing the way with puss from thier buboes.While at least two children a week are burnt as the devil in the handsome market square. The town boasts two taverns, one humourous dwarf and a shop that sells little things made of straw."

  6. #246
    You know I was actually thinking about that situation. I know it doesn't work in Pathfinder, but For malena she believes that there is no such thing as true evil. Had she the chance to redo that situation, she would likely let the demon go, with a brokered deal of sorts of course, just because she doesn't believe in true evil, she knows people that are generally considered evil are not so easy to trust.
    90% of RPG deaths are falls. The other 10% are thief related

  7. #247
    Ardem's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by Argol228 View Post
    You know I was actually thinking about that situation. I know it doesn't work in Pathfinder, but For malena she believes that there is no such thing as true evil. Had she the chance to redo that situation, she would likely let the demon go, with a brokered deal of sorts of course, just because she doesn't believe in true evil, she knows people that are generally considered evil are not so easy to trust.
    If you remember right Ardem wasn't letting anyone go out the door so was not your only your decision you would of had to kill him the dwarf made his stand once done he will die this way eventually. If his brother dies this will rock Ardem perhaps blame himself drive some sort of anger in him to fuel a hatred
    Ardem knows he is not ready to defeat such evil

    The Internet gods must of known I could not play today and been harmful to you all sorry about that

  8. #248

    Oh wow Didnt know I still had this

    Many years ago I use to play Dark Age of Camelot. Over a period of time I created a story involving people in my guild.
    As time went on other people in the guild kept wanting to put them in the story too, so please excuse the number of characters.
    OH my character was Rokar
    PS unfortunately I appear to have lost the final parts. (each part came out randomly) If you wish to read it here it is

    Part 1



    A twig snapped.
    "Bah! I can't get this damn fire lit.", Raziel threw down a flint and sat heavily upon the cold ground.
    Ceciel looked up from his freshly sharpened knife, "You'd better or we'll all freeze to to death this night." Ceciel turned his head . "Has the earth given up any clues yet Captain?"
    "No, it is cold and silent.", Dragonheart rose from the ground and brushed off her hands. " I have half a mind to give up on this fools errand."
    Ceciel stood and approached his captain. Standing close he said "You know we can't. I don't know what possessed Brylath to take the scabbard but you know he is one of us, and it falls to us to find him."
    Dragonheart looked into Ceciel's eyes knowing that he spoke true. Suddenly a loud crack and curse word broke the air. Ceciel turned from his leader to see Raziel lying on his back. Ceciel marched over to
    Raziel, "What are you doing with that fire? Give me that flint".

    With a half smile on her lips Dragon turned away from her two companions and again inspected the snow-covered earth. What had made Brylath take the holy scabbard from the keep? He was a Friar of the holy order, and while somewhat unauthordox he was always true to albion and her company. So what would have made him take the Scabbard to the enemies of Albion? Dragon turned her mind once more to the earth, pleading it to tell its secrets. She was a theurgist, an elemenlist mage of the highest order, her speciality was earth she should be able to read the ground as one would read a book; she felt sure something or someone was hiding Bry's presence from her. A light breeze stirred the snow and the dirt moved and swirled. Dragon's eyes widened as she saw Bry struggling through a deep forest surrounded by low scrub and brambles. He looked in a bad way his face was filthy and his robes torn and ragged. She could hear no sound bit it seemed that he was talking to himself and it looked as if he was in tears. He struggled forward, falling occasionally but he always rose once more and continued dragging a heavy pack behind him. Dragon felt an ever so slight pull to the North, then( like a door shutting fast in her face) the image disappeared.

    Dragon stood and turned to find her guildmates standing around a merrily burning little campfire looking quite pleased with themselves. "Put that out! We ride through the night. Bry is far from us and we must get out of these highlands."
    "You have seen him captain?", spoke Raziel
    Dragon nodded her head towards Raziel, "Yes, the earth finally spoke to me. He moves north"
    "He makes for Hadrain's Wall?" said Ceciel stepping forward.
    Dragon turned towards the looming snow capped peaks in the distance. "It would appear so. Enough talk we ride!"
    Instantly Raziel kicked out the fire and collected what belongings they had removed from the're mounts. They pulled themselves onto they're steads. They dung their heals in. The horses snorted and shook their heads in protest but they leap forward all the same. Down an embankment and into the the night they went ducking and weaving as they rode. Dragon's hair pin had come loose with the hasty departure and her blond was hair streamed out behind her. She knew it was dangerous to ride thus on a moonless night but she had a deep feeling that Bry was in trouble and she wasn't about to abandon her friend to his fate. To her left she could hear Ceciel shouting in prayer and to her right Raziel's curses. She again gave her horse a slight kick and urged it on. "Hold Brylath, hold, we are coming."
    If you want the next part let me know... Wont fit in one post
    "The small town of Swampspittle is a charming reminder of how Faerun use to be.Plague victims crawl eloquently down it's dung filled streets; greasing the way with puss from thier buboes.While at least two children a week are burnt as the devil in the handsome market square. The town boasts two taverns, one humourous dwarf and a shop that sells little things made of straw."

  9. #249
    Ardem's Avatar
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    Quote Originally Posted by Willot View Post
    Many years ago I use to play Dark Age of Camelot. Over a period of time I created a story involving people in my guild.
    As time went on other people in the guild kept wanting to put them in the story too, so please excuse the number of characters.
    OH my character was Rokar
    PS unfortunately I appear to have lost the final parts. (each part came out randomly) If you wish to read it here it is



    If you want the next part let me know... Wont fit in one post
    I also played Dark Age of Camelot.

    Kay Server, Midgard, Dwarven Warrior, and yup you guessed it, his name was Ardem StormAxe. Knights of Ni [KoN] Guild


    PS I want the next part when the Dwarves, Norsemen, Halflings and Trolls run over the hill moving faster then a locomotive with there lute singing Skald. And stomp your little campfire out.

    With those names you sound like Albion scum.

    I have many fine memories of DAoC, my brother played a human healer, I majored in axe and shield, and lots of con points. One the best battles we had was against three albion stealthers. I used to carry a hammer to look like a healer. They were giving our guys some pains trying to pass the gate. So I sat down the stealther came in and hit me and wondered why I was only down 15% on his attack. Shield bash hack hack, the other came in to help. Shaseki - Mez, 1st then tries to run, Snare. Kill. Then start on the next one and rinse and repeat they then try to take the healer on cause he keeps mezing them. So I shield bash and hack.

    3 Albion stealthers dead. Lasted about 10 mins (A long time for DAoC) but very tactical. My first and last hardcore MMPORG.
    Last edited by Ardem; July 29th, 2013 at 05:36.

  10. #250
    Yep Albion! I too (with my fighter character) wearing a robe and carrying a staff so stealthers would think I was a caster.

    MY caster Was Rokar he was a thergist?

    anyways hereeeessss Rokar

    PART 2


    "My liege. Ladies and lords of Camelot. Sir Rokar Thunderchild." The door warden struck his staff upon the tiled floor, signaling the guards to open the large ornate doors to the audience room. A tall man walked forward down the centre of the room. He wore silken ornate robes that swirled and shifted slightly as he moved. They were crimson red with a black trim; the colors of his guild. His hair was the white of one of those from the isle of Avalon, his face was grim.

    The assorted throng of court nobles paid no heed to his entrance nor did king Constantine, who was engrossed in jovial conversation with one of his courtiers at the head of the room sitting upon the throne of Albion. Rokar stopped before the raised throne with his hands clasped in front of him and waited. The king (appearing somewhat perturbed) looked down, he signaled with his kerchief to his lord chamberlain. "Who is this fellow again lord chamberlain?".
    The chamberlain responded, "Tis Sir Thunderchild my liege. I suspect he has come about the search for the realm's recent loss."
    "Loss? What loss?", the king looked annoyed and sat straighter in his chair. He could feel his day was about to be ruined.
    The chamberlain leaned in closer to ensure his words were not heard by others, "The scabbard my lord".
    "Oh, yes a most unseemly business" said the king, "well I guess we had better take this to my private study." The king rose from his throne, as he did a hush fell over the audience chamber.
    "There will be a ten minute break for his liege to recover" spoke the chamberlain.
    The door warden again struck the tile floor with his staff of office "God save the king!"

    The king made his way to the back of the room to a small plain door. The chamberlain motioned for Rokar to follow. Rokar noticed as he walked behind his king that he was a small man. This surprised him slightly as he always thought the king to be quite tall, perhaps it was the effect of the raised platform. The king stood at the door and waited, the chamberlain opened the door for his king and Constantine entered. Rokar followed them into the room.

    The room was wall to wall books. Another closed door was on the other side of the room. A large desk was centred in the room, behind it a large padded leather chair which the king seated himself in. Papers were piled high on the desk. There were the nibs of various pens, having given their life in pursuit of their duty strewn about the desk. At least he appears to do something in his office, thought Rokar. The king then started looking for something on the desk. He pushed a large pile of papers onto the floor and then proceeded to rifle through a drawer.

    "Here, my liege. I believe you are looking for a pen." said the chamberlain as he reached into the bottom right drawer.
    As the chamberlain handed the king his pen the corner of Rokar's mouth curled ever so slightly up.

    “Thank you, lord chamberlain”, Constantine nodding his head slightly towards the flustered chamberlain.
    The king turned towards Rokar, “I believe it has been given to you to investigate this theft? Although remind me again why it was seen fit to assign this task to one of the thief's own company?”

    Rokar took a breath,” Our captain convinced my liege that we would know the quarry best and also we could redress some of the shame brought to our guild.”

    The king shifted the weight of his body in the chair,”Yes, well, I become less than convinced the more time goes by. What have you discovered?”

    “I have searched Brylath's room and discovered some things of interest. Chief among them being this.” Rokar pulled a scrap of paper from some place on his robe and presented it to the chamberlain. The Chamberlain in turn presented it to the king.
    Constantine looked over the paper carefully, “So? It's a list of goods to be purchased?”

    “Indeed sire. It is written in Brylath's own hand. Written the day of his so called theft.” Rokar looked expectantly at the king.

    Constantine peered back at Rokar dumbfounded, “Yes? Your point being? I tell you I grow weary of this and I have many other appointments. My chess match with Lord Meepan is already well over due.”

    Rokar sighed ever lightly, “My lord. Why would a man about to commit the highest treason make a shopping list on the very same day?”

    The king threw the scrap of paper on the desk, “This proves nothing. This list could have been drawn up at any time.”

    “I beg to differ my lord”, said Rokar “If my lord would notice the third item on the list. My lord will see it is for 100 sheets of paper to be picked up from the Merchant Germin. I checked. The merchant took delivery of that paper on the day before the theft and had sent a runner to Brylath's room to inform him of such.”

    “Yes, yes all good and well but it doesnt change the fact that his prayer book was found in the chamber, and he and scabbard are gone. He is involved somehow, of that there is no doubt!” The king leaned back in his chair. “But more importantly now, have you discovered the whereabouts of the scabbard? Or where he is taking it?”

    “Not as yet my liege but my captain and some of my brothers are in close pursuit as we speak and I am sure we will have the scabbard returned before....” Suddenly the king stood up! His fist pounded the desk.

    “Do you take me for a cretin!”, spat the king. “Your company is close to expulsion from Albion as it is and yet you come here with your “Not as yets” and your “I am sure's” and your little pieces of paper! I WANT THIS BUSINESS CONCLUDED! I will not be made to look a fool!“ The king held Rokar's eye for what seemed to longest time, considering something. Rokar started to feel very uncomfortable under this scrutiny and started to shift his feet. The king slowly turned his head away from Rokar, his eyes not leaving Rokar's until the last moment. “Chamberlain are the men ready to leave?”

    “Yes my lord”, said the chamberlain bowing low.

    “Very good. Send them out at once to track down this traitor and retrieve the scabbard.” Constantine sat back down in his chair adjusting his robes of office.

    Rokar stammered, “But? My lord we were to complete this task”

    “Well, then your captain had better hurry and complete it before my men do. Hadn't she? Now if you excuse me Sir as I've said I am overdue for my chess match. The Lord Meepan will be becoming most impatient”, the king rose and Rokar bowed his head as Constantine passed him; chamberlain close behind him. Just as he was about to leave the room the king suddenly stopped and turned to Rokar, his face was a mask of uncertainty. “Something has just occurred to me?”

    “Yes? My liege”, asked Rokar.

    “I'd heard you were dead?”
    "The small town of Swampspittle is a charming reminder of how Faerun use to be.Plague victims crawl eloquently down it's dung filled streets; greasing the way with puss from thier buboes.While at least two children a week are burnt as the devil in the handsome market square. The town boasts two taverns, one humourous dwarf and a shop that sells little things made of straw."

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