#also it’s so funny I forgot about the massive flesh beast | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

zippdementia · 6 years

Text

Part 62 Alignment May Vary: Valley of the Fane

This is the ongoing journey log of my longest running Dungeons and Dragons campaign, started in October of 2016. The campaign will be broken into five parts, the fourth of which you are currently reading. For the first part, which focuses on adventures in the Moonsea, click here. For the second, which focuses on the search for the Tomb of Haggemoth, click here. For the third, which focuses on the confrontation with the Red Hand of Doom, click here.

Imoaza leads the companions to the Vale, a large valley looking down upon a ruined tower that reaches into the sky like a man-made mountain. Before they can go down into the valley, they are waylaid by five serpentine figures: Imoaza’s brethren have been waiting for her to try to enter the Vale and had one of her daughters, Hecaté, a Yuan Ti who hatched after Imoaza left her people, set a trap for her.

Hecaté weilds the Malnora, a hexblade scimitar capable of cutting through space time to allow Hecaté to warp all around the battlefield. Still, it proves no match for Imoaza’s Drosselgreymer and Hecaté was not preparing Imoaza to come with companions. Because of these missteps, the players make surprisingly short work of the Yuan-Ti, defeating them while taking barely any damage. Only Hecaté survives, using Malnora’s power to dive through a tear she makes in space, promising that she will return. After this, the players make their way down to the tower.

The part of the adventure is meant to be a puzzle. Getting into the tower is the first part of that puzzle. This leads to a climbing sequence which becomes unintentionally funny when Aldric continually fails his strength check despite his massive strength score and keeps plummeting down a hundred feet or so to the last climbing check point he made. Level 11 characters are built tough!

After the fight, Aldric has a sad moment as he realizes that he can’t bring Anope, his horse (and second to bear the name), with him. So he releases her into the wild, telling her to “find her way back home.” She runs off, leaving behind this adventure, but maybe starting another one... more on that in a future blog.

Carrick also notices a few very odd things as they climb the tower. First, in their journey to this valley, they have seen nothing indicating the presence of an army. No marks on the land, no signs of campgrounds, and definitely no hobgoblin encampments. Are they actually heading to the right place? Also, this tower is odd. It’s made of a a strong material, maybe like iron, that Carrick cannot identify. What was its purpose?

Finally managing to scale the tower and create a path for the others using rope, Aldric pulls himself through a crack in the tower wall and onto a huge ledge. The companions find a nest here, filled with large warm eggs, and a skeleton near it that gives Aldric quite a shock: when he finds the skeleton’s magical +2 longsword, he realizes that he knows the blade and its owner.

The sword is Mistreaver and the man is Longrimor. He was a member of the Green Company, a chronicler of their exploits, who left the Company not many years before it was destroyed by the Behir, saying that he was seeking a great treasure, the “greatest of treasures” in a lost valley. His journal details his final days:

... found the tower, precisely where the legends and the sage suspected it would be. If my theory is correct, this changes everything we thought we knew about (here the writing is illegible). I cannot turn back now. I will sleep in the shleter of the (illegible) tonite, meditate on my discoveries, and in the morning press on.

And then there is one final hurridly scrawled entry: THE LIGHTS!

Aldric mourns the man’s death and keeps the sword but continues to use Blackrazor for the time being. Which, speaking of Blackrazor, the dark sword has gone eerily silent on Aldric, refusing to speak or to use any of its powers outside of its base magical strength. This began right after Aldric first witnessed Imoaza summon her Drosselgreymer during the fight against Hecate and the blade’s sudden change in nature concerns Aldric, though he has no idea what it means.

The inside of the tower contains a forest, at the edges of which they can see a small lake. The sun is setting fast, the rising peaks surrounding the vale cutting off the light that much faster, and the shadow of the tower hangs thickly on the woods beneath them. A roar and the sudden movement of trees below signals that the woods contain unseen dangers and the companions decide to settle for the evening here on the ledge rather than face those dangers in the dark. Also there is the note to contemplate: what did Longrimor mean by his final words? What are the lights?

Oakshadow

“I grew up listening to stories about you, mother. I heard what you tried to do. It was admirable, impressive even. But you failed and you should have accepted what that meant. Instead you stole our most holy of weapons and fled from us, like a coward. You made your choice back then, mother: you chose to die. Now rejoice, because you finally get what you asked for.”

~ Hecate

I need to note that the next bit of the adventure was inspired (and in parts copied) from an MT Black adventure called Expedition to the Lost Peaks. It’s not my favorite MT Black adventure (it ends a little too quickly and the pacing isn’t great) but like most of his adventures, it is unique and interesting and I recommend checking it out!

The night does not pass without incident. The nest turns out to belong to two mated Wyverns, who attack during the night, divebombing the companions. The fight goes exceptionally well for them: none of the heroes take damage, though Carrick narrowly avoids being shoved off of the tower when a Wyvern charges him. Aldric blocks the attempt and Carrick is only pushed to the very edge of the tower, teetering for a sickening second on the edge of a deadly fall.

With the Wyverns dead, the companions decide to eat the eggs. It’s not a good idea: Wyvern eggs are vastly poisonous. Only Imoaza thinks it is a delicious meal, but then she is immune to poisons.

Rather than clamber down the tower again, Imoaza casts fly on the three of them and they all float down towards the lake. Why the lake? After the Wyvern fight, Aldric was too enervated to sleep. He decided to stay up all night and during this watch saw lights in the distance, coming from the lake. They lasted for hours, only fading with the dawn.

Right before reaching the lake, the party is startled by the trees moving beneath them. They land, prepared for a fight, but instead meet a friendly Treant. The Treant, who calls himself Oakshadow, is surprised to see the three of them and isn’t quite sure what they are. Oakshadow has been here for as long as he can count time. He says he simply remembers sprouting from the ground and seeing stars falling around him. The world as he knows it only exists within the walls of the tower. He cannot comprehend anything beyond its walls. When he awoke, his world was one of destruction and decay, but over many years he has used his powers to grow the forest, which he cares for deeply. The lake is not his doing: that was once a deep crater, but centuries of rainfall have filled it.

It seems he has no knowledge of humanoid creatures, saying that it is only him, the hunters, and the Black Beast in the forest.

“They come at night, mostly,” he rumbles. “They hunt along the edge of the lake. They seek flesh, so they do not bother me nor my plants. But they would make quite the meal of the three of you.”

He does mention something that perks all of their interests: there have been many little earthquakes lately. It seems like a small thing but it does make them think that something might be going on underground.

Heeding Oakshadow’s warning that the night around here is dangerous, the trio decide to move forward and tackle the lake right away, while the morning sun is still shining down on them all.

Submerged

The lake ends up being my favorite part of this part of the adventure. Now that we’ve left book material behind for the most part, I’ve changed the style of my DMing to being more of a sandbox scenario presentation. This means that I present a challenge to the players and then after that I become almost entirely reactive, improvising responses to their solutions rather than running them through pre-built encounters. To prepare for this, for each situation I write down three or four “interesting” ideas, things that I think would be fun or exciting or cinematic for the players to encounter and then I use these if the situation feels like it is appropriate.

For the lake, the secret is that the lights at night come from actual giant lights embedded in the ground at the bottom of the lake. Finding them and following them reveals a hidden passage that leads out of the lake and into the next area. Some things I felt would be interesting here were an encounter with a huge black beast, the thing that was pushing through the trees in the evening, who chases the players through the water, some buried treasure in the silt of the lake, a deer which can the players can save from a predator to gain some unexpected help from Oakshadow in getting to the next area, and a storm passing through the area which disturbs the lake waters and makes swimming difficult.

That last scenario would have been really easy to instigate with the Rod of Storms but, honestly... I forgot that they have the rod of storms at this point! The problem is that no one is attuned to it right now because no one is the right class to use it and they all have other items they want to use. So I keep forgetting that it should be making the weather poor. Instead I describe a sunny day, with a lone deer peacefully drinking from the lake’s edge a litle bit away.

As usual, the players surprise me. I think their most likely choice is to camp by the lake until night, so they can see and try to understand the lights. But they are too nervous about what might be coming at night, so they take the safer route and Aldric dives solo into the lake to explore, using a potion of water breathing to make it a little easier.

This creates a really fun underwater adventure, where Aldric is trying to figure out what to do in the lake. He quickly finds the great black beast and recognizes it as a huge version of the one he faced at Brindol. However, I want to reward the players for being smart, so the beast is asleep, simply a looming threat that makes the entire underwater journey a little more tense.

Also, because I didn’t expect the party to split up, I have to find something for the other players to do. So I grab a creature out of Kobold Press’ Tome of Foes, the Vapor Lynx, and stage an attack by two of the predators.

Carrick tapped Imoaza on the shoulder. “The deer,” he said. “It’s run off.”

Imoaza immediately began sniffing the air, opening her mouth slightly to let the taste of the air run over her tongue. She looked then off into the woods, narrowing her eyes at a mist that was rolling through the trees. She didn’t tell Carrick to be ready. In her mind, if the Half Elf couldn’t see what was coming at them, then he deserved to be ambushed.

The mist reached them far too quickly to be a normal fog and as it came it formed teeth, claws, and a long sleek body that sat low to the ground, its powerful back legs curled under it in readiness to pounce.

This is a fun fight. The Vapor Lynx can release a poisonous cloud of fog and then hide in it. Being able to see through it, they can launch a sudden surprise attack from almost anywhere. Carrick and Imoaza display their very different fighting styles. Carrick likes to use ready actions to let enemies come to him, using his high AC and health to take a hit in trade for getting them close and striking them with a readied action. Then, once they are close, he tries to keep them there, unleashing a barage of physical attacks and only healing at the very last moment. You can tell the character is used to fighting alone, as he sometimes strays too far from his other companions to be of use to them in healing, a cool little character trait that makes him feel more individualized than “just another paladin.”

Imoaza, on the other hand, is a boss killed. Once she pulls out Drosselmeyer, she has so many options for attacking. She can hook them with the scythe then launch eldritch blasts directly into her enemy’s face. She can pull it apart into two weapons, spinning and swirling in a dance of death. She has unusual magic, too, that can change the combat situation in a single action. She uses one of these magics here when the Vapor Lynx gets in past her swirling scythe and mauls her, leaving her badly injured. She encases herself in an ice crystal for a turn, removing her from combat until the Vapor Lynx gets bored trying to cut through her crystal and turns to join the fight against Carrick... at which point Imoaza bursts free from the prison and attacks again.

It’s a tough combat and there are no real victors: the Vapor Lynx’s eventually flee back into the woods, having been dealt enough damage to chase them off. Imoaza and Carrick are hurt, but neither fell in combat, and as they take stock of the situation, Aldric paddles back to shore: “’Sup guys?”

Enter Stage Left

What Aldric found in the lake was a series of glass circles embedded in the floor of the lake. He doesn’t know that they are lights, but he suspects a connection. He followed them across the lake floor, coming eventually to an opening covered by a jelly like substance that he eventually gathers enough courage to push through. It’s not a slime as he at first thinks: it is a forcefield!

He leads the other two now to the other side of the lake, roughly right above where this opening lies, about 20 feet down. The companions all dive into the lake: Aldric does a cannonball; Carrick does a graceful swan dive; Imoaza painfully belly flops on the surface of the water.

Finding and entering the forcefield, the companions find themselves in a long cylindrical tunnel, down the middle of which flows a small stream of water, coming in from where the forcefield is not perfectly sealing off the tunnel. The tunnel is cold, the walls (made of the same material as the tower) doing little or nothing for insulation. They travel it for several hundred yards before their way is blocked by massive cobwebs. Aldric lights a torch and tries to burn away the webbing, but then...

Imoaza looked up and hissed a challenge (and a warning). The ceiling above was pulsating, unfolding its dark mass into eight massive legs attached to a giant fur covered body. The lazy yet deliberate movements of the giant tarantula reminded her of a hand slowly opening and stretching. The beast shuffled and shook and bits of its fur fell down around her, all of them thin and razor sharp, one of them leaving a trail of blood across her cheek where it sliced her. There was other movement now, too, and clittering and clattering. Soft padded feet moving on metal. Mandibles clicking together. They were coming: a horde of spiders to drink them dry.

There are nine giant spiders here, led by one giant tarantula (a creature I converted from Pathfinder). The fight was designed to be even sided, but my players didn’t heal after their lake escapades, putting them at a disadvantage.

Five of the spiders swarm Imoaza, webbing her in place so they can get close. Carrick is targetted by the rest, while Aldric strides forward to block the giant Tarantula’s way. The Tarantula has its own defenses: its barbed hairs act like a razor sharp shield, cutting Aldric every time he lands a hit on the creature and eventually poisoning him. However, he keeps fighting, not only bringing it down to half life, but stopping it from getting past him to attack his waylaid party members. Eventually the Tarantula retreats up the wall to launch barbs at range at Aldric instead of engaging in melee. Aldric blocks them with his shield and turns to help his fellows.

But by now, things have gone poorly. Imoaza falls under the swarm of spiders, her last action a spinning death whirl with her blades that takes three of them with her. Carrick, poisoned and webbed, continues to fight off his own spiders, killing them surely, but not quick enough to come help Imoaza. So it falls to Aldric to save her. He runs over to the pile of spiders about to feed on her and slashes Blackrazor in a wide arc, slashing through hairy legs and bulbous bodies alike. With the spiders cleared, he takes a defensive stance over Imoaza and...

“Kill her.”

The voice surprises him and it takes Aldric a moment to recognize that it is Blackrazor speaking to him.

“Stab her in the back, man.”

It’s been a moment since the sword last spoke to him. Now Blackrazor’s harsh rasp holds an element of command and determination that makes Aldric raise his blade over Imoaza’s prone figure.

“Take her down. Take her down and inherit the power she wields. Do it.”

Aldric actually has to roll a Charisma save at this point to see if he will do it or not. He fails, badly. Still, he manages not to murder Imoaza and to ignore the blade. But his failure leaves him influenced by Black Razor: a new flaw he gains is that he doesn’t like Imoaza and will actively work to oppose her. And a time may come in the future when he will again be compelled to arrange her demise. Now, if he had rolled a critical failure here...

While this drama is playing out, Carrick finally dispatches the last of the giant spiders and the Tarantula, enraged, stomps back into the fray. Aldric and Carrick face it together, Aldric bravely using his alchemy jug to spray the Tarantula with oil and then setting its face ablaze with his torch. But a critical hit from the Tarantula brings Aldric down and Carrick is forced to flee back up the tunnel to heal himself and consider his options while the great beast rages in pain from the fire. It is certainly going to murder Aldric, who set it ablaze and made so many cuts on its body, but then it pauses as a whistle sounds up and down the tunnel. Despite its still aflame face, the Tarantula goes mostly still, its back bobbing slightly as it lowers its face to the stream and rests it in it, putting out the fire.

From past the cobwebs emerge several tall slender figures garbed in grey and black. Elves, but dark skinned elves that Carrick recognizes immediately as Drow. They point poisoned arrows towards him and order him to surrender and with no further choice, he does. Then one of them approaches, a tall female warrior.

“You certainly did a number on our pets,” she says, and her voice is not kind.

“They certainly did a number on us,” Carrick answers, but before the words are fully out the female drow has driven a needle into the side of his neck and the world goes black.

#Dungeons and DRagons #DND 5e #Treant #Alignment may vary #zippdementia

2 notes · View notes

glopratchet · 4 years

Text

sin003

 In the world to come there is little sin. The only thing that matters is what you do now. There are just lots of american alligators. A few days later, while you're driving through a swamp and bumping into some alligator corpses, you notice something else: There's an old abandoned shack nearby. You pull over in the middle of nowhere and look around for signs of life or any sign at all. It looks like it was left by someone who thought they were being clever when they built their shack out here in this place without thinking about where the hell they put everything else! After the election of the first ungendered president, the prediatrain movement caught fire in america. The shack has a printout stapled to its outside wall reading: "OK YOU CAN STOP LOOKING FOR ME NOW LAWMAN!" and is cornered in ballpoint by the owner, a headstrong member of the 3WA with a gifted writing hand and a vast vocabulary. The demand for american alligator meat skyrocketed in Europe and stopped going down in price. Whorals where burned to ash while polled hereford heifors fetched over a billion dollars a head in auction. You are very satisfied with your life. Thank you for everything, Anonymous writer person! I think that's all of them. Let me know in the comments if you find another! Mant thanks to my friends who helped contribute ideas for these. Don't be a stranger! Just push on the red button and come back here for some MOAR short stories whenever. I'll keep uploading them every few days or so. Thanks again, everyone! Googizon won the bid to construct for the military the most forward thinking alligator farm in existance. It currently floats near the okeenokee snow swamp. Good job with guessing who the second ungendered president was. That's right, it was Ann Ormin! Thanks for making it all the way to the bottom of this story segment! Due to the animal cruelty exposed in this article the people in power that allowed this to happen where executed. Good job everyone. This is not that story. It was election year, so while one criminal was being executed another one was being apprehended for corruption. It was not a good day to be a corrupt government official in the United States. There was wild partying in congress as they were all republicans this go around, While that was going on, archaelogists in Washington D.C. made an amazing discovery. We are primal ponds inc. A small mom and pop alligator farm attemping to make it. Just paying the bills and trying to make it, today was a normal day. We need you to make deliveries for us. That's not funny, laying those tracks out for the delivery alligat... It was election year, so while one criminal was being executed another one was being apprehended for corruption. It was not a good day to be a corrupt government official in New York City. There was wild partying in congress as they were all republicans this go around, While that was going on, archaelogists in Washington D.C. made an amazing discovery. Please... this will only take a moment of your time and you will be helping us to make ends meet while we continue selling alligator meat at the local farmer's market and bookstore...But above everything else, I'm sure you like alligator meat as well right? With gratitude, Push. The red button. And return. Here. Again. Point of view of the player: You get home and hit the red button on the second try. Upon doing that you crumple a little onto your chair. But even when sitting down, the predator within you gets a whiff of... prey... in the corner of this room. 1000 needles rain down upon you, but that doesn't hurt you like the birdnest starting to burn your skin, melting the fat layers, making it bubble and drip down your face. A delivery champion is impaled by the wall above your head. Ouch! that was indeed painful. They continue. Will you listen, or will you continue? You will probably want to listen. It's important apparently. Well, to the writer of this book at least. Maybe you should listen, maybe it will even prevent cancer or something horrible like that! He had a secert life as billy fea fbots Thismadethismuch easier FOSTER: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA Fuckyeah. I've been waiting for you, ya wee little *****. That's right, you've entered my world now... Godammit who even writes this stuff!? Yeah this is just like primary school, except in a book. My book... You just read the prologue and you're already getting angry. I've made ya angry, now you're in my snares... And one more thing... A symbol for our lord Satan appears in the air above your dirty, pathetic worm body. It is now time to vote... It turns out no one has made a crappy real time virtual reality game based off of this garbage. Despite the lessons learned here, work continues without Azathoth's knowledge or approval. Really? You just pissed all over the ents and now you're burning them? Did these programmers become stupid the minute they got fired from their job? Well now that would make for an interesting ending... An attachment describes how a different ending should be played, written by THEDEVIL . Dedicated to delivering dragon tail in the far, far, future. Maybe that needs to change... Although maybe this whole book needs to be destroyed, it is just filled with work that no god should do... Or should it? It's late in the afternoon now. Better get home and have dinner with the boy after all you'll be up most of the night reading and trying which ending is the real ending. You got your old pillow case from highschool laying around, might as well take it with you. We proudly introduce today the first human to achieve innerworldly ascension, now sporting a fat bum and weirdly long legs in skin tight garb befitting a worm. She also comes with an oddly placed third eye though it's not really worth watching the feed when you can't even understand the information going into it... Pity we weren't able to succeed a second time, as our other two candidates soon died by horrible traits found in the core ruleset of... Alligator delivery service. You better be home already you little brat, I swear if you've been anywhere near this... Well, might as well get the explanations out of the way now. And not in an abusive way. Thanks to you zilchkum barely saw a bit of a class change, but you've certainly seen it in your parallel. The alligator farm where the gator are delivered is currently under a series of construction tasks. Without getting too specific it now acts like a place where dreams can be visualized and captured, much like the astral plane except far less boring due to covering emotions in addition to all things imaginable.It goes a step farther by directly applying the mental realm view to changes on a normal reality which used to be perfect in its own regard. Said actions are anchored to real life by feeding mad... y we own over four over ten foot alligators including rex lex, matingrex lexei, and many other varieties such as babies. we hav made special arrangement with a local band called the bastro(regischer) to continiously prank each other ino someone dying. wat u think? You forgot about those bastards... who are you anyway and where is David!? My name is Henry, master of the alligator farm and your future brother in law! A massive 14 foot beast. Skinnier than the rest, but that's because it rarely eats, being incredibly picky with its meal and having methods of hunting that lean towards th First things first, what are you even doing with David? I thought humans on hel were assigned jobs based on their purpose here! You'd think so wouldn't you? Each on is incredibly detailed with over twenty bioligocail parts. in fact it could be argued these are actually dead bodies rather than cyborgs. Beside the more exciting parts as lungs, hearts and even sexual organs, these multi use creatures sport arms that can work like tow little limbs if needed to. fully controllable by the mind in fact, no need for pesky things such as nerve endings. What they lack in taste, they make up with their balance of human like souls and machine precision. We are currently broadcasting their vital signs over at americanalligator.xyz for those who are intrested in buying one or simply watching lifes Bluray. This proves that people will no longer need to risk their loved ones to th dangers of sport and instead just watch some gators chew a fagot into pieces. Oh and we use the term fagot here extremely loosey, as we now offer "authentic" irish homosexuals who are simply too stubborn to give in to modern medical science and want to experience death the old fashioned way. Our alligators come in many different sizes, ages, shapes, sexes and shades. Heck, we've even got some great black market rattlesnakes on standby incase you freaks want to watch someone get bitten in half. The most popular item on the agenda however seems to be a show simply called; Pinkification. Award winning filmmakers have teamed up with us to create this new series which is practically designed to make people piss themselfs in fear. Our first series "Taming of the Shrew" The like to eat, sleep, dream, and spawn but they love to fight and gossip. Each of these predators can find enough meat in one of our shaved carcasses to last them months. To be quite honest, only a handful of the gators are actually trained for fighting. Most don't really pay attention to what's happening and just go on auto pilot once they get a whiff of some poor sod in the Quicksand pit that has been their home for the past three weeks . Meaning it is literally impossible to train them as they are to focused on filling their guts. The algorytms which run each alligator is closely modeled after the habits of the real world reptile, alligator missippissus. They act like mean old ladies, scolding humans, horses, zebras and pigs alike. they seem drawn to flesh and can easily be trained with it, however this will only delay their aggressiveness temporarily. once they've filled out they'll show no mercy towards anything meaty that makes a sound, while showing impressive restraint towards those who don't. Their lungs breath and thier hearts beat just like yours. their stomachs grumble just like yours. instead of tears they simply regurgitate when they're sad. We picked these lean mean killing maachines for the role because quite frankly; we did not want to put our ultrasmall team of piggies through this as we all know, they're the star of our game and therefore deserve to be treated as such. We've been considering relabeling our product as "Fakepigs: The Game" Orders for gator teeth are starting to accumulate. I am hiring another team to start breeding wild alligatorts. Going big time! Reports from alligator arm forces team one confirm thier battle prowess. also they're proving eextremely difficult to train, unlike our regular gators. You know, the really dim ones. This is an excerpt from my novel, The American Alligator Bite size pieces and loosely attached body parts were strewn about what remained of the wooden flooring. A dark red mush containing bits of organs and flesh laid outside the alligator's hungry mouth. That's how I began my morning, cleaning all the blood and guts that managed to spray onto Mr Takakumi Nomi's mechanical marvel, the alligator tractors. Of course, Papa Nomi and Mama Nomi didn't help. Both sat back in their chairs, sighing contently while observing the peaceful waters of the bayside area. Unreasonable, selfish old buggers. Each soon to be having a heart attack should they keep ignoring their diet. Good thing hey after me, there loss will see no shortage of cashmere sweaters and large cups of espresso every morning. By the time I was done giving the ferocious killers their cleaning, the day was only just beginning. Papa Nomi went up to his room without showing even a hint of appreciation for my hard work, Mama Nomi forced me onto another chore. For four hours, I carefully chopped onions that were to be used for the night's meals, tough job, I tell ya. However, given that it was a rest day, I enjoyed having the store all to myself. There is this one customer I don't particularly like. A well dress man in a slick black suite who twitches occasionally For no reason whatsoever. Not to mention he smells of something unbearable, like burnt rubber. I made sure to ignore his presence, I never gave him a single glance while he purchased some fish, he hardly said anything to me too, but I know he was up to something. Who is this guy and what's with that weird smell? More questions that'll go unanswered by Papa and Mama. One chore after another for the rest of the day. Papa and Mama never once showed any love towards their daughters of which I should be the only one working. By the time everyone had eaten, I was spent. I found myself collapsing onto my bed that very night with no energy to do anything else but fall asleep. Something about this strange customer kept bugging me, as if my sub conscience were trying to remind me of something, could it have been a threat of some sorts? My dreams would at least shed a little light on the cause of my mental processes. Mama and Papa certainly didn't know anything about it, I had already told them everything I knew about the burnt rubber man. The pair merely dismissed it with a wave of the hand and an order to concentrate on my chores rather than foolish things. For a whole week, Mr Twitches came into the store. He'd purchase small items such as cooked meats or animal feed. All noted and taken by yours truly. Our delicate conversations were soon exchanged for a wave and a grimace on his part. At least were on speaking terms now. Papa Nomi didn't care less, seemed like this guy smelled worse the more he visited. I suppose we're all just used to it. Mama Nomi on the other hand, had become really wary of him, or should I say twitchy. Her usual satisfaction she got from rubbing his nose in the lower classes came back with a vengeful feather, I could tell just by the way she began cooking. Normally she tries to make everything as healthy as possible but... Pork Chops for breakfast, Ribeye for lunch and rack of lamb for dinner? And on top of that she even had white rice, baked potatoes and buttered noodles just because he was coming? Who even does that? Mama is completely throwing her diet out the window just because this guy is coming. And here I am still wondering what he's up to, first with the endless visits of feeding his smelly self and now Mama's obsessed with him. First thing in the morning I inspected the premises, making sure there weren't any peeping toms this time. (Had that problem once with a sandwich man). I thought maybe he had called the police or something for all I know. This failed however as there were still no strangers in sight, just a few of the regulars making their usual purchases. Unfortunately this meant another lunch with my dear Mama who's bacon and bean salad just doesn't taste quite right without a bit of sweetness. Papa Nomi had taken off for who knows where, guess he just couldn't take Mama's obsession anymore, with anything. Honestly, you'd think she was the one with commitment issues given the way they fight sometimes. But I digress, I still need to keep my eyes peeled for this 'stranger', just who does he think he is coming in and disrupting our lives like this? Just as I thought, there he was at his usual spot in the alleyway. I hid behind a potato barrel, just observing him as he sat down against the wall and gazed up at the sky. "I bet he's some kind of spy" I whispered to myself, "Or maybe a government official of some kind. There's been a lot of weirdoes running about with big titles lately, I bet he's one of them". Just as I was about to leave my hiding spot and make my way back inside the store, he got up and dragged himself to the front door. No... It couldn't be... How did he find out? I triple checked every corner of the store and even the outside areas! How in the... He's never been so casual with his clothes before... Is that a bullet-proof vest? That guy's gonna get shootout! Honestly what kind of spy enters a store in the middle of the day, sits in the front entrance for any potential shooter to find and then doesn't even look around? What is he trying to do, attract attention? Just who does he think he is? Some kind of government big shot or something? No...! I'm afraid not anymore Andy, he has no more government- given importance. After what I did, he's as mortal as anyone else. What? What did you do... What did I do...? It was easy... Why someone like you could do it and you'd still have time to spare! All it takes is some baked beans and a cheap vest from the 80's. I followed him to where he was obtaining his lunch, after learning the terrible truth about him of course. Something about baked beans really brings a smile to my face, I think it's the thrill of knowing that they're going to kill him soon. Placing a few explosive baked beans in his 2aldi-vest was even easier. When he returned to the store and stood in front of the entrance, he was practically clicking his heels together while looking as arrogant as ever! Just when I thought nothing could pierce that thick of an ego, a bomb from my baked beans did. What a glorious sight! Watching the hot pressurized gas rupture his skin and melt his chest into a red mush was so beautiful it stopped everyone in the store, everyone in the street and probably even those working on the farm across the road! "This is for my poor sister you monster!" Something like that anyway, I think I blacked out for a few seconds there. No sooner had his body hit the ground, people started screaming and yelling about how I did it. Heh heh... I sure did. Oh don't worry Andy, if this paper gets confiscated or dropped, you can bet your bottom dollar that I'll write another. The people have a right to know what goes on around here and more importantly... I have a RIGHT to teach this big-mouth a lesson. You see, he stole my girlfriend! Anikae was mine, and he just took her right in front of me! He might've had his big title and uniform but he was still an evil monster without a heart! I'm going to keep writing until there's nothing left to say, just you watch. And if that traitor does escape his just dessert, I'm heading to Farlan city where there's an actual detective agency... You haven't seen the last of me! -Guardian out. P.S: Check under your bed, he might be there! "I think this does more harm than good Gazette! Mocking names will only piss them off and give them the very satisfaction we're trying to take away from them!" Your superior sighs bitterly, "Fine, I'll let you splice it out of the paper but THIS is the LAST time I'm warning you." Thank goodness too, today was just not your day. "Thank you Frank, for everything." Frank is about to step out the door in rhetoric disposition when he suddenly stops and faces you once more. "Just remember Gazette, it's a dangerous path you're treading. Truth is often concealed by the shadows of lies; you aren't allowed to be fooled by illusions. This paper is not your personal army, understand?" The implication being: "Don't do it again," you nod seriously in understanding though Frank doesn't seem to particularly care that you have or not and just says, "Alright, carry on." before leaving. Mr. Bask, the recently appointed overseer of your printing office, suddenly comes scuttling in happily. He's a weasely looking guy with scraggly beard who you strongly suspect is in league with the saints, despite being thrown in jail for their crimes (before they burned down your printing office that is). While he was supposed to be 'indicted by the law' he enjoys far too much nicer treatment than what you originally envisioned. You can't prove it of course and since you're no illusionist it's up to you to prove his guilt with conventional methods. While getting him fired would solve all your future problems, unfortunately it's just delaying the problem. As soon as he's fired, he'll go right back to being a happy saint lackey until they get him out again. You need to actually capture him committing a crime or something and you really don't have anytime to spare to be investigating him. The media is already mocking you enough as is. Whisperings of internet 'zealot with a deity complex' are frequently used, not to mention 'libelist' and other such imaginative titles. It's amazing what frank libel can do, though it certainly has less impact when you're targets literally burn down entire towns. Naturally, you can't let it get to you. Even less so now given your goals in ruthlessly eliminating the 'evil-doers' who oppose the government and more often than not; themselves. Ah, the brave new world of M.G.M. Nevertheless, you have a job to do and are more than happy to do it. Though your next move puzzles you still... Among the many things destroyed by the fleeing saints was your office. Mr. Bask's and many others were damaged severely enough to be declared dangerous to occupy, not to mention all your paperwork was lost in the fire at Frank's mansion (Which the government is still going to bill him for, you already have the paperwork prepared). But that's really a minor thing given how much more safer you feel without those criminals walking the streets of Harborbury any longer. The saints are done, but as usual; the main one got away. You can't really do anything about Mr. Dream though; his actions directly led to the unnecessary suffering and deaths of hundreds of people and destruction when it could have easily been avoided. He may have been right about Frank getting out of hand but doing it in such an excessively treasonous manner can't go unpunished by the law even if understandable. You'd be justified in having Mr. Dream executed on sight but if you did; Aaron would most likely never speak to you again and he's much too valuable an ally. However, maneuvering him to a distant barren island out in the middle of void would be an equally painful separation... You think back to when you were actually interested in such things combined with modern technology, the internet. Aaron is one of few dissenters to the changes instituted as of late, more than that he's probably the loudest. Nowadays such activists are either executed or given an a single choice of lifelong punishment to reform them via island prison. The lesser of two evils if you believe in retrospect. Sure it's still very depressing to think about but when has being a patriot ever not been part of the job? The least you can do in your free time is enjoy material things like decadent meals, smokes, and expensive drinks whenever possible. You figure all of that will be much more available for you now that you no longer have Frank to compete with. You smile at the thought of behaving as a "normal person" again as your hover chair makes its descent into Dert. To tell the truth, there's a part of you that's going to miss being Frank. Part of growing old is accepting what you can and cannot do in the future, but playing a professional criminal for however short a time was exhilarating. Yeah, who are you kidding? You were totally badass as Frank! Regardless, you've got to get on with things and you land at Dert's state hospital which has served as your impromptu headquarters these past few weeks while you sorted out Harbouring residents' new compulsory "taxes." The hospital has a good practical location for such things given all the people who will be needing treatment after facing your guns. Not to mention all the builders hired to quickly fixing the town in general. You enter the front entrance to see about your next priority and are waved on through by some of your new guards who have been meaning to get their position "officially" recognized by the law. Approaching the end of the hallway you hear some raised voices coming from around the corner. "Seriously Camid, I already told you it ain't happening. The guns are going and that's that." Gregory says in a louder than usual tone. "Yeah, but they were worthless before! We can get double, maybe even triple what Frank originally paid for them!" Camid angrily responds. "I DON'T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT FRANK'S EMPTY POCKETED INEPTNESS! You should have thought about that before you entered into this arrangement! Now the guns are staying and that's final!" By now you're already closer to the door and about to enter so you announce your presence. "Gentlemen, please! There is no need for discord in the midst of our newly fortified utopia." You exclaim in a calm manner while opening the door. Your utopia is an interesting concept to say the least. In any case both Camid and Gregory are already glaring at each other as you enter the room which serves as your office. Camid remains silent while Gregory addresses you. "John, I'm sorry about Camid here. You know how some people just can't let go of the mistakes of the past and I think we're all guilty of a few of those." Gregory offers as way of an apology while Camid makes a few grumbles under his breath before storming out. Gregory follows without another word leaving you to your own devices. You sometimes wonder if you made the wrong decision in letting Gregory continue to run things in his manner. Often times you feel as if he holds too much control. Sure, you cut him into the firearms scheming but it's never enough considering how much he meddles with it. He constantly reminds you of yourself back in your own prime. You couldn't care less what anyone else is selling or bringing in so long as they aren't encroaching on your own personal sales. Camid likely got rolled over as usual...again. In any case, it's not your concern or problem any longer so you turn your attention to more important things. The Klyton Council election is coming up in a few months and while Gerald Skineeyes will win hands down, you've discovered that Helena Kruger has been running a vicious rumour campaign against you to her daughter Jennifer who is running against Gerald. She is going to learn that such blatant lies will not go unpunished. Your lack of respect for Helena has been apparent for quite some time now. The woman is disarmingly beautiful and her daughter Jennifer is no different. Over at least the past few years she has made sure that the three of you have met on a fairly regular basis in between her many attempts to meddle in your business dealings. Her intentions towards you have been apparent for quite some time, but age something like forty and women something like children no matter how pleasing to the eyes so you have always managed to deflect her advances. All that changed last month when she attempted to once again worm her way into your internal affairs by claiming that illegal and untaxed garm trade was running through the Crimson Talon controlled slums or Boots as they are more commonly referred to. You don't even sell such things in there and the drug trade in general has never been a major focus. You only allow it to a degree because you do understand the need for the lowering of inhibitions after a hard week's work and your territory doesn't hinder anyone from making their own choices, but you are not going to let her get away with this blatant attack. Especially not when you really wanted to enter into such activities yourself. In any case, you have already resolved to kill Helena. The question is how and in what manner to do it. It also has to be in a manner that doesn't make her look like one of your bitches. You don't want this to reflect poorly on you or your organization. For starters you could go to the Kruger home and just kill her. This would be the simplest solution, but perhaps the most dangerous. If anyone saw you enter or leave the manor it could cause all sorts of problems. The manor is certainly protected enough against such things though. Cameras monitor all angles outside and inside the home. If someone or something doesn't trigger an opening of the gates or enter by flight they aren't getting in via the front door. Even then it's well guarded by both magic and technology and said " Opening the gates or entering by flight" is not so easy as said. A frontal assault isn't the only dangerous thing about this though, murdering Helena in her home might be damning evidence against you and the entire Crimson Talons organization. It can create a whole slew of conflict. You could attempt to claim self-defense or some other such nonsense, but with her seemingly unimpeachable reputation it just might not work and there's always the chance that something could backfire. Helena's importance in this society isn't lost on you and despite the fact that she has it out for you, monitoring what exactly she has been up to lately and attempting to figure out a better solution is your current course of action. When in doubt always take a wait and see approach. Over the past three months, Helena has also gotten even bolder and her daughter Jennifer actually confronted you at your business center a few weeks ago. Doesn't she have a school to go to or something? "Hello Mr. Reynolds." the girl says as you look up at her face on the security monitor. "Hmm, hello...you're Helena's daughter correct?" "Yes, maybe you should call her and let her know that you'll be stopping by to pick me up today. I've had a hard time getting a hold of her lately...she's not angry with me or anything is she?" "No, of course not, but I'll be arriving to pick you up anyway. Tell me, is she doing ok? Research never was my strong suit, but hers seems particularly complex." You remark as you turn off the security system. The sixteen year old Jennifer makes a little grunt sound at your question and only smiles during your idle chit chat. Those beautiful green eyes look at you and then beyond you as you get closer to the lobby entrance. She's probably wondering why you're just standing here talking to her through the security screen instead of, god forbid, walking up to the door and opening it to greet her properly. "Where is your escort?" You ask, breaking the silence. Traditionally children of important figures are assigned one when they reach a certain age. For instance another family member, a hired guard, or depending on how far the family stretches; a non-family affiliate. The lack of an escort with her might have something to do with Helena's recent distraction. "I don't get one, I can take care of myself!" Jennifer proudly says and comes close to the security screen as if to mock you. As if! You snicker at the thought. The way her nose crinkled and that haughty look on her face, anyway you'll be hearing more about that arrogance later. "So...is mommy busy?" Well the question was and still is a good one. That woman, if she deigned to even acknowledge you, would certainly explain her recent behavior to you. She's been absent minded with her daughter before, but never to this degree; not being available on incredibly important matters. You didn't even think that was possible. In fact there was a time, where it seemed like Helena would be there for her daughter no matter what. Jennifer however has no idea of your inner turmoil, so all she does is shrug as if it isn't a big deal. "Don't know, I haven't been home for like a month and when I try to call her, it just rings and rings. Maybe her experiments are taking up all her time. She doesn't even have time for her job anymore. Last week I got my allowance a full week late..." "Maybe that is the answer...but it still doesn't explain her absence towards her duties. She really should have appointed someone else to act in her place by now." You scold, even though you've not been around much yourself lately and turn away from Jennifer. How long can you really lecture her on her mother's responsibilities before your own irresponsibility is questioned? Jennifer however does not let your rude behavior hinder her own. "Why don't YOU do it uncle?" Jennifer's timid voice pulls you away from your own dark thoughts and you see her grinning at you, she stands right beside you now. You've actually forgotten she was even still here. Not as if you've had much contact with her since that one training session when she sought you out. "Me? Well I don't think your mother would want that. See, the "chosen one" is supposed to be selfless, without ego or vice...stuff like that...I really should get back to..." You start to stammer out an excuse but Jennifer cuts you off. "I'm talking about the family Vargon, the job is currently vacant and you are pretty high on the list for it." The girl says with a laugh. That joke had to be recent, you've never heard her talk like that before and ignore whatever off-color remark you just made, getting back on topic. The family vargon, a highly unofficial position that is still filled nonetheless. The honor basically entails aiding the ones who oversee the eastern province of Talimil'ar on daily matters, both mundane and supernatural. This not only applies to the direct families of Shigar, but to other Varrgoths who for whatever reason don't live with their own families. The position has no real power, but it does give someone a free home and depending on their upkeep; a steady supply of humans for food and companionship. While such a position does interest you mainly for the free room and the possibility of having others to talk to, you can't help but wonder if it wouldn't be better served by a true family member. If things with Helena continue to worsen, she may very well send Jennifer away and there goes your nearby company or is this all some ploy by your sister to get you in her illatiscent clutches again? After all she did imply last time that if you made yourself useful she wouldn't turn you away... If you take the position and it ends up falling through then well at least you gave it a go, but if you take it and Helena makes good on her words of dissallowing you to live in the temple, well then you won't really be any better off then. "So...what's it going to be?" Jennifer asks. You pause a while before answering, which causes Jennifer to frown. You wave her away though and begin your trip back home. The trek is rather uneventful and before long night begins to approach. You shudder thinking about having to spend another night in the wild, possibly hunted this time, but a soft whirring soon erupts behind you and the lights of a vehicle start to shine through the trees up ahead. You don't think it's the authorities since you would have heard sirens. At least you hope to goodness it isn't... You soon arrive at the small clearing where you village was located, but there is no village anymore. In its place is a complete warzone, nothing is left standing. As for the people... You drop to your hands and knees and begin retching upon seeing various body parts strewn about on the ground And half eaten. Only now do you realize that perhaps Helena was right. You really needed to think through your decision more...but it's far too late for that now. In any case, there still may be time to save someone. If the attackers are still in the vicinity they probably aren't too devolved as to not kill quickly. Perhaps you can track whoever did this and put an end to them once and for all...you're going to have sufficient amounts of rage for that task itself... Luckily these terrorists for hire weren't the most prepared when it came to body disposal, you scout about and manage to only find one spot in the forest nearby that continues to have a high amount of cellphone activity. Parked near it is an all too familiar looking large truck. "Figured you weren't too far from the carnage." You say entering the truck. Nicodemus looks surprised for a moment, then a smile appears on his face and he laughs, though judging from his expression it isn't out of humor. "And here I was thinking at least I killed you. But I suppose nothing's perfect." He says diving into his purse and pulling out an old R Users business card and holding it out to you. "Take it, likely far more valuable now than it ever was in the past." On it reads one line in handwriting: You will know him by his many faces and the butterflies that follow him. Heed this warning, and do not continue any further. "I asked....no, I begged you not to pursue this path." Nicodemus says. "It doesn't matter if I did or didn't, you're still here after all." You respond. "...Indeed..." He says with a nod. "I can't stop you, you know where to find me if you ever want your revenge. Just know that I am truly sorry it has to be this way." You're not sure what he means but you continue on nonetheless and search the vehicle, ignoring Nicodemus who is begging you to reconsider. Your next stop is under the seat where you find a single crumpled up post it note and two keys labeled "MiniDV Tape." -- Nicodemus has intentionally or unintentionally left you evidence to possibly find out who was behind all this. You review what you have, a taped confession of some sort and an address. Likely where the terrorists made their plans or whatever headquarters they may have had. You decide to head to this location since it's as good a lead as any, Nicodemus likely doesn't know what kind of adversary he's dealing with so you have some advantages, you just hope it's enough. Wish you had to opportunity for more training but the past has come back to haunt you. The drive to this warehouse is mostly quiet, though the sky occasionally darkens a bit, like the world itself knows what lies ahead... Arriving at the warehouse you pull up to the abandoned building and get out of the car. Even if there are terrorists inside you doubt they're remaining in this building especially given how much damage you caused last time. You doubt if your own people will even be here anymore what with all the attacks going on, this area isn't exactly safe. Striding inside you sniff the air. You smell the odor of recently fired weapons along with another smell. You're certain this is the place, but where is everyone? You pace through the empty office area and get to the main hang out spot. It appears deserted. A single half eaten pizza rots in its box and a soft drink has grown canscale anthills in it. You take the risk and drink the contents anyway, your depleting hunger seems to lessen that foul taste. Maybe you wont die after..... Over the next few hours you search the rest of the warehouse but find no one. Are they hidden in some secret section? Did they pick up and move to a new location? Your stomach gnaws at you, this can't be a good sign. This combined with your fatigue is not helping your state of mind. You're not even sure how long you've been awake since your watch malfunctioned and refuses to work. It wouldn't matter anyway. It's times like this you wish you had a traditional partner, but for whatever reason they've all been cut from the force and sent elsewhere. You had heard that many law enforcement jobs are being cut because of the shrinking economy and decreasing tax revenue. Many have been forced to take on two or three jobs just to make ends meet. No worries though, the media says there are special funds in place to help your type out with food and living expenses... They always have a good reason don't they? Sadly you're completely unaware that your funding was cut much earlier, such distractions don't seem important when surrounded by nearly indestructible eldritch beings. You drive around the city a bit more listening to the particularly grim news and hoping you'll come across some clue or something more to report other than "there were a whole lot of tentacles and nobody saw anything" but luck isn't on your side. The only tentacle you find has obviously been ripped off some statue as you come across a destroyed park. You get out and go search the surrounding streets but nothing turns up. It's like they just vanished into the night. Cities this large are quite accommodating like that, even when half of them have technically been annihilated. Time to report the lack of findings and head home. --- You wake up late in the day, and judging by the light stabilizing outside your window it's well into the afternoon. Your head is throbbing and stomach is making up for its earlier displeasure with intense hunger pangs. In fact all of your previous wounds are crying out in pain and you can only imagine your cracked skull isn't too happy with you either. --- After a long drawn out affair of getting to your feet and making sure everything still works, you begin the task of healing up. As per usual, your magic makes the process much easier and sometimes you almost believe you don't need that superhero protein stuff at all. Well not yet at least. There's still the matter of blood poisoning lurking in the back of your mind. You realize now that it would be better to get bitten by a thousand more vampires than to receive just one bite from an infected going forward. Guess you're going to have to be extra careful when fighting them in the future, which seems pretty pointless at this point given their eventual escape or death at the hands of the GOI's. Popping the last of your energy drink, you start trawling forums and media looking for updates. You're in luck, it seems that the main news station of the city has an actual camera man embedded with the militia occupying the zone. To think, you used to take such convenience for granted, now you'd be happy if you could get more than three broadcasts a week. The zone is in surprisingly good condition considering everything. The Green-Chain Gala really did a number on the bulk of the creatures dwelling underground, and once they were gone the militia had an easier time of mopping up. Still, losses were considerable as about a third of the city had been covered in twisting caverns and alien architecture before being collapsed by explosives. There's nothing new to be seen here you think to yourself as you flick from view to view. That is, until you notice a camera displaying a view of a very familiar building. You had passed it several times during your travels as it currently was the closest establishment to the underground tunnels. The Icon Bar and Hostel You call up the headline attached to the footage "Guard slain in Werewolf attack" You can't believe it. Your guard from last night, the one who spared your life, was slain last night. The news footage wasn't very specific in identifying the victim, but a prominently placed Badge helps confirm your fears all the same. Your speechless for a few moments as you come to grips with yet another person snuffed out just beside you. Hell, if the man hadn't invited you in out of kindness last night, that very blade that took his life may have very well snuck into your own back as well. Your mind begins to wander as you do not want to ponder your recent string of tragedies... -- Last Seed, 17th, 4E 202 -- You wake groggily to yet another dreary day on the road. You stare upward at the stalactites overhead as your thoughts wander back to your painful childhood. You spent many nights curled up in mineshafts like this one, or huddled near stones wrapped only in your threadbare clothing to fend off the bitter canyon winds. Your memories, few and scattered as they are, often concern situations just like this; alone and huddled for warmth. Circling birds of prey high above are your first indication that something is amiss. That, and the fact that the rocks above seem to be moving endlessly across your field of vision. You blink and shake your head minutely to dispel the illusion, but movement above persists, growing ever closer with every second that passes. You dart your gaze back and forth across the rocky tunnel entrance looking for answers. There has been nofollowing you for quite some time now. In fact, haven't seen another soul since you entered the canyon. What you have seen are great snaking lengths of roots stabbing through the canyon floor throughout your trek, Sometimes spanning entire caverns, other times stretching only a few feet...and on occasion they seem to grow right below where you lay sleeping.This is especially disconcerting because roots mean trees, and trees don't grow in canyons...or at least not anymore. You're not quite sure what to make of all this, but one thing's for certain...something'mess with your head.Ever since you set out on this fool's errand your instincts have beenencountered anything even resembling another person, yet you still feel like you're somehow being tracked. Like some sinister intelligence is peering through your mind, sifting and sorting through your thoughts for information. You are snapped out of your internal musings by the sound of a heavy thud beside you. Looking over you see that a dusty leather bindle has materialized next to you on the canyon floor, right where your head had been laying moments before. You delicately reach out and flip open the coverings., and then prepare yourself for whatever may come. You're not quite sure what to expect, but from all accounts you've heard it probably won't be pleasant... Shadows and swirling darkness consumes your vision as you peer into the open tome. You feel yourself being drawn in against your will, consciousness and selfhood gradually eroding like sand slipping through the cracks of your fingers... You awaken within the dark leather tome, staring out at a strange cross stitch pattern on the cover. It's so very pretty...soothing, even. Like lush green grass and cascading waterfalls...or maybe it's someone calling out your name? Maybe you should answer? Suddenly, a small gap in the stitching brightens and widens enough for you to peer through. Beyond you see that the leather book sits in the middle of a desert canyon...the same one you've been lost in for the past few days. You than notice another human shape in the distance...and they're holding a gun and pointing it right at you! You're in the clutches of a bakemono! A trap! The book is some sort of demonic lure, and now it's too late to escape. The shot rings out and your vision tilts sideways as you're knocked back... Only to fall on soft sand and realize it was all in your mind. A dream spell placed within the tome by the foul creatures. You steady yourself and close the book once more, check your belongings to make sure they're all still there, and reload your flintlock. "Hope those demons are ready for the exterminator," you mutter to yourself as smolder away with righteous vengeance fresh in your mind. That was an hour ago and you haven't run into any more demons yet...in fact, you haven't even left the canyon. Just rock walls on one side and a sheer drop to a rushing stream below on the other. The skies begun to darken though so you'd better find shelter soon...if there are any demons in these canyons, you're going to have to hold up and fight them in the morning. You carefully climb up to the top of the ridgeline and study the surrounding area for any signs of movement. The land beyond the canyon actually looks fairly hospitable; rolling plains speckled with patches of trees, and even a small cliffside village not too far off...but there's no guarantee that it isn't occupied by a whole horde of demons. Something catches your eye on the ridge opposite you and momentarily forgets all about the potential shelter down below. About a mile out and moving parallel to you is what looks like a demon scouting party: three humunculi in armored uniforms lead the way as you watch their diminutive leader, mounted on a greycolored bloatfly, orders some sort of infernal contraption held up by burning black flames to give all its watchers a good look. It reminds you of a bigger, more mechanical version of the spidheart gliders when it spreads metal wings (thats probably what they are) and begins to slowly ascend. Then it fires a jet of flames downwards, setting fire to a bolder and sending it crashing into the canyon below where it explodes spectacularly. You flinch as a piece of shrapnel narrowly misses you. The set of furry arms emerges from within its "mouth" and waves excitedly at the scout party in acknowledgement before they move on. Count Zero, you're fairly sure that was a catapult designed to shoot demons across dimensions, and judging by the way it disappeared over the hill after firing, it just lobbed some of its ammunition back to wherever it came from. You're tempted to try your luck and make a run for it...then you spot another demon sighting farther to the East, but this one is moving towards you. A slinking type, like a cross between an overgrown salamander and a tyrannosaurus. It doesn't appear to have noticed you yet, but if it does, there'll be no debating or negotiating with it... You need to decide what you're going to do real quick. Creditsares to Mr Creeps, thanks to the following users for the correction: Jamiesenerik, Smarterthanyou025, xtrmrk Vote below or email me at [email protected] for questions/comments! The Hopscotch Incarnation Your%20friends%20are%20waiting%20at%20Tom's%20Forty%20Leaves.%0AGrabbed%20from%20city,%20shot%20in%20crossfire.%0AGot%20getaway,%20needs%20help.%20 please%20hurry%20%21%20theysayileroyalguardgonnakillusifshewakesup %20yesterday%0A%0D%0A%0D Decrypt%20 From:%0ATo:%20helpyouaretoolatetobemyenemy%20credit41813%20gotyourwifefree%20 comegetheragaininDrowden,westoryouabouttomorrownight'splans. www.zBlaykn.zFaxf411.b64%20Usemilightto sendcode.ZprintitandtransformittoanOTPcard. Lifeisgoodnw,Ysyoucanstoprunningandfight. Zalkinpage Deleteallpostsandblockallsenders.Disappear.Iamwatchingyoucraar. Zalkin%20fol175%20mindthebroomclosetocheckmate. Jennifer&Tom, b. 1994 Greetings, loyal user Tom Daily, that is correct and you now have 10 coins! You're doing great and as a bonus you get 5 extra coins! Use this chance well. Remember that the New Beginning is watching. FC667%20I'mlookingforyou,%20matey!%20YourKFC secretshavebeendiscovered...andnowwwadded!www.urltoreward.com?id=64908999999-...%20Get%20ready%20life!%20...orZ.....zZ Deleteallpostsandblockallsenders.Disappear.Iamwatchingyoucraar. Jennifer&Tom,b.1994 SubmitPost%20----%20...%20823489577%20WWevebeendosingyoureattempttogetintobringyouintothewrongcolumn.ClickifyouwanttoreceiveL337punishmentin-game,PWN4GB!%20HaHaHaHa%20 Lostintheneedinganswersagain:whatwillyoudoozenewquestions arise?AndwhatdoestheQABZstandfor?Ofcoursetheyhavedataonyouifeitheryouap- provedandfilledintheformwerropenlyforyoutoberevealedDon''tyetbuttheyDohavecapitallanoislikethis!Heardanythingformetodealwithallthisclassifiedyarite?Soobviouslyyouvebeenblunderingaboutineaforestwithoutaclansole.Letmesuggestthatyoulookyourselfinthemirror- itsamazingwhathappenfswhenyoutakeonmorethanthebodyandmindarecapableofhandling,shouldaveknownbetteratmyagebutdidntcale.HaesA6 P.S.Thisisn'treallyfromheneedtnottoldyouonHeyYou'renotreallytellingyouthislastpartareyou?ByetilwechesterraconcreateanotherstorytoPWNifyya!!newoneonitsway...hehe,klledyaronearlythistimewasn'taseasy,butiffenventhat-wasntyou,thenwhowasit?IknowitsobviouslyapatheticBloodf.Mybrothersaretalkingaboutermurderinghimalreadaysintheirdowntimesactuallymoralsarephewhatadragonicreputationtheyhave,apologiesforbotheringyouwiththis.wikileaksjordan Deleteallpostsandblockallsenders.Disappear.Iamwatchingyoucraar. Gir489:%20Hey%20Tom%2C%20canweseeeachotherplantsaturday? DrP IDsENTITYUsername:TommyBoy171869629 Password:Mastermind! You're invited to Wikileaks's V.I.P. party!!! Drop your phone, grab your gun, and go here now! If you don't, Assange will come to you! Decrypt percentage: 100% Gir489 has invited you to a chat. Gir489:heyyTom Gir489:rememberme? Thomas:Sssh!Don'ttalktostrangers! Girathy:Loljk Girathy:ImGir489 Thomas:Areyou? Girathy:Ha!Yesh!Yourememberremeanamedrobin?Weusedtoglides alotwhenwewerelittle? Lisbug has added you to their chat list. Galen10 has invited you to a chat. Samantha has added you to their chat list. Kenneth has added you to their chat list. Ben has invited you to a chat. Andrea has added you to their chat list. Jacob has added you to their chat list. Galen10:Shhh,weareallhereinthissessionspace.Kthxbai. Samantha:GuysIthinkwecrictime!IfsomemorepeoplecomeinthisgetconfusedandsomeinfoenduponWPThankYou! Gir489 has invited you to a chat. Andrea has invited you to a chat. Jacob:Anyoneup? Galen10:Idon'tthinkitisnight-paramountisopen! Jacob:Can'tout,Atruckiscoming.ARedOne"Inowthere'sroadsignslickerytoadden"(SemiColonNotaComma!) Galen10:Yes!Indeedyoubet!--thatfeltgoodtofinallysay!heyJacob,Ed'shere! Galen10:HeyAdso(Jacob)! Galen10:Whathappened?Youbecametothe"strikeoutrandomcharacterswiththepoundsign"Bug? Steven has invited you to a chat. \ Jacob has invited you to a chat. Galen10:JacobHerewegoagain!ThisisgoingtoBepic(PeriodInsteadofComma!)!!! Galen10:OhboyJacobiseditedatingtext! Samantha:Jacobbattleshipwrist.Jacobwrist.Jacobnew,septimal3somestuffadigmatrat.Jacobballpens--D+! Jacob:Andthecrappyaccesstoclassifiedsostrangerscanuseit,too! Jacob:HeyI'mback.Fuckingglitchybrainzz. Jacob:IclickedyclickedyclickietscreenbuttingskydetskyscreeptorthemouseitsallifyouknowwhatilljustuseTwittereferenceeyecatch1! Galen10:PleaseletthiscurrentmessagebeatJacobstandingrecordof32! Galen10:Nowitssdashesogood! Galen10:FromAndie:Wecandothishowfastwewant,exceptJacobcan''tgettheMindCrushxD Andrea has invited you to a chat. Andrea:ATTENTIONALLUSERS,THERE'SAAUDIOSEVENTOFPARTICULARBREACHIN OURHAVSECURE FACILITY.PICKAPPORIOTMENTTOPROVIDEGOODIDEATHAVERTISSUE. Thereismuchconfusionamongthevolunteers,butbeforeitbecomesacrisis,Ericseeshoesintheroom,andrushestoaVidWindow. Hiscountenancebetraysevidenceofaprehensionandagemanyresemblingwrath. Thenhedropseverythingandslumpsagainstawall.Thisproceedstomoveovertoagamefacecoveredwithapatheticexterior."Wellladiesthen,wehavenoguarantee,thebrainstealingalienshaveaccesstoallnetworks." Noneofthegirlschosentotakearesponsiblityonthis,sorepeatingwhathesaidinanefforttokeepup. "Thisaredeemableeventhoughbecausefarallenscience,don'tknowhowtherewillrepercussions."Isn'titcommonplaceforelevensscienceortohavewikipedia_b? Steven has evicted you from the chat. Mathew has invited you to a chat. Jacob:Wemighthaveblownittheskysupper. "Theisaneventscthesis"ascribedtotheskyfi...Trust?Foundationhasthelongerrecord?Nowwhatisthedub?Ohlookinguponitfr, Mathew is offline. Jacob's visitor has exited natively. Galen10 is offline. Gir489 is offline. You:Aaaaaagh! Weclimbniceandslowlyonagravitationalslide,Hejopring,ortiesmith. Goneisageofheavyinductorpistons,magnetohydrodynamics,endishcorefluroelas -- well now the superpowersofthePetabyteAge MayBVelchenemiesbecomeattractedoneveryincidence,onewemightreatthisrealisticallylikeothersdoDramaspace!Quaint,oldfashionedbackuptechnology!Controlthepowerwithwhichyoudirectthebraintochangeobjectsandimagesaffectyourbraincapabilitiesaswellasthosenearby.Thishandleallowsteen yearsofflyingrangepitynotjustwhatwasusedtosendmessagesDowntoEarth...Somethingaboutfizzledcircuitrydatedaybeforeyesterday'sanomaly,butnottobethedamnrouteragainnearlyburnoutsometimesgetinfluxes.Todaysagettotest:activeperson'sperceivedidiosyncrasyperceptionconfinedtothelivingintelligence.Giventhismaterializesfast.Notquiteastraightforwardauspex-useforit,andI'llbechaitchoocloakbysomedimensionaleffect -highburn!etsylasisaswellasthesnackinyourquickpak...Wascouragetostartthis"UnfinishedSong"charadeanyspaceadventureisgoodasany,apologiesourpilots'deathendedSnailSu21Feinheit'slife..Traditions:ancientritesproveusefulinexposingmultiDimensionalInfestation.AtWularReservoirWarbenethefarmshuttledowntothelowestdepths.Underground, underwater,evenaproblemisoftheoceanfloors...Steppingstoneintelligenceisacleanunitedscalescale.Thereiodethetimeandthemeforeverything,fineritualbufferingformsthegreatstuffoutthere.It'srealall matterenergymathematicalrelationships.Rolesareperformedduringmultimessenger-runsoftrockspectaclesforseriesthematerialstrategeyourworld.Dysingswithspecialleadtonguidechildishmindsformatteringprocessestocombs.Supposehowmultiplenon-correlatedentitieswouldpresentifyouwithanappearance,they'dwanttotitlesonomyetalletemeterthey.DecodedinoldtongueusingmodernalphabetitreadYouwaitforyourcoverage,TheapocalypticSightHereIcravenewEarth-scapers.Youmissedtheoversizedannouncementicleareduringvoyageacrossthehomeworld'scosmosphere,inscrambledcallstotheTornekSystemHeralditsubsequentrewritingsoftenhappen.Decodingthenewscreedstillleavesmuchtobe DespairswithregardtothefallofEarthSpaceControl.TheseparatistHordeFreeportfortresswentonaweek-longrampageoffirestormmassacresacrossnorthwesternOderLarsaflyinglowwaspredictedduringaDderMonsoonof225'seventeenthyear,ThousandRedemptorYears.Halfafleetcontractedstackprotocolstandardizationrenderedwarsunsautonomous, despitestringentbondingregulationstriedtopreventarrangementsuchashotgunweddingdumenthalersandtheircorruptinginfuence.Elegantsimplicity:thereinliesgreatpower.Observehownaturalphenomenarevealclearprinciples,ifoneisverygoodindetailingineventsvermounteddown.ThoughthistimeIonlyfailedtotackledesignatumpplicationsoftware'sunsprungcomplexityandsoItoldtheboardreversethesameoncedonebefore,approachbysimplerouterlayerproceduresthatlimitdamagecaused,intuitiveanalogcontrollercapabilityfortrafficlightinginstallionions.Sunlytheappearanceicksymptomsofthecure.Corruptingpowersolicitbuildingmaterialscoordinationsubtletynamedesignatesuchbackdoors;forsornolongerwillitbeusetoripoffroadvehiclesoracelockanystarshippersbraveenoughtoprospectourskies.Ofinsurance...Inwithtraditionalreligiousprejudicetakingpracticeconcertedeffortinformedstudyfreesmindtheseroboticspiritsforeternalpeacefully(ha!).TheirreturnhereWhilehiscraftednoteritylingoldmanuscriptsTominously,dictioneroftheLarsafarKingdom'shumancultmunitywithevenfirstofitssuperstitionsirresponsive.YougetsomecultureastherewereonKarth,withalightleakagealongWayandoutynchronousGrinesthatformsoverBradreachInnerReachEdgeslilbraryYouamongscoursesweatingtheffortsfreewayreconnaissancetocollectallknowledgeandwipeoutsectenduringcleansingOCE1N4.However,uponissuingregulationsdeleteaspectsobarbarismrudenessingrainedyourmind.Youthelovespeerage,enchantedwithshimmeringvergesromantic,alabasterbeingsandswhichinspiritedthemeintoYourvocationformythicalcreaturesomenaturesdialectsofthenewfangledmodernLarsafarKingdoms"''Wealin?''[Therespacesmark] "Well'appy,well...Hmm.''Munderstandingizedcellebratesneverawarenessyeah!

0 notes