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OOC:Sorry for the delay guys, had some personal stuff come up but I'm back now.


I take in the scene below and smile with glee at finally getting the chance to fight. Rushing down the stairs, I vault over Aryn and Frederick, aiming to land directly behind the robed figure and chop him wth my sord.
quote
Toementor
Jump check
[D20 = 14] + 6

Arschloch swiftfully leaps over Aryn and Frederick, and slashes at the robed being whilst doing so.
Arschloch Attack roll
To hit: [D20 = 16] + 3
Damage: [1D8 = 7] + 3 = 10 damage

The robed figure drops his dagger as he goes limp.
__________________
You can't make an omelette without ruthlessly crushing dozens of eggs beneath your steel boot and then publicly disemboweling the chickens that laid them as a warning to others.

]
quote
AD
I cackle maniacally as the robed figure's neck spurts blood from the passing slash. Not bothering to gloat over the ded guy, I turn towards the entrance where Unglar stands and prepare for the next bloodbath.
quote
Howth Castle and Environs
I make sure none of my allies are in the way and then shoot the surviving enemy motherfucker in the room with my shooty-arrow-thing.
__________________


ff · tmv · reds · lj · last.fm · soundcloud · pm for facebook (which I never check)

“The trouble is that we have a bad habit, encouraged by pedants and sophisticates, of considering happiness as something rather stupid. Only pain is intellectual, only evil interesting. This is the treason of the artist: a refusal to admit the banality of evil and the terrible boredom of pain. If you can’t lick ’em, join ’em. If it hurts, repeat it. But to praise despair is to condemn delight, to embrace violence is to lose hold of everything else. We have almost lost hold; we can no longer describe happy man, nor make any celebration of joy.”
-Ursula K. Le Guin, “The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas

“I never knew a man could tell so many lies
He had a different story for every set of eyes
How can he remember who he’s talking to?
’Cause I know it ain’t me, and I hope it isn’t you”
-Neil Young, “Ambulance Blues”
I’m armed to the teeth
Like a fucking animal
I ruin everything
I get my bony hands on

And here we go now over the bridge of sighs
We will get a cross like Christ, crucified
It’s like a birth but it is in reverse
Never gets better, always gets worse
Voilà! In view, a humble vaudevillian veteran, cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of fate. This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is a vestige of the vox populi, now vacant, vanished. However, this valorous visitation of a bygone vexation stands vivified, and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulent vermin vanguarding vice and vouchsafing the violently vicious and voracious violation of volition. The only verdict is vengeance; a vendetta held as a votive, not in vain, for the value and veracity of such shall one day vindicate the vigilant and the virtuous. Verily, this vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose vis-à-vis an introduction, so let me simply add that it’s my very good honor to meet you and you may call me V.
Vaulting, veering, vomiting up the values that victimized me, feeling vast,
feeling virginal... was this how he felt? This verve, this vitality... this vision...

La voie... la vérité... la vie.
(SPOILER)
The Dead Flag Blues
The car is on fire, and there’s no driver at the wheel, and the sewers are all muddied with a thousand lonely suicides, and a dark wind blows. The government is corrupt, and we’re on so many drugs with the radio on and the curtains drawn. We are trapped in the belly of this horrible machine, and the machine is bleeding to death. The sun has fallen down, and the billboards are all leering, and the flags are all dead at the top of their poles.

It went like this: The buildings tumbled in on themselves; mothers clutching babies picked through the rubble and pulled out their hair. The skyline was beautiful on fire, all twisted metal stretching upwards, everything washed in a thin orange haze. I said, “Kiss me, you are beautiful; these are truly the last days.” You grabbed my hand, and we fell into it like a daydream or a fever.

We woke up one morning and fell a little further down; for sure it’s the valley of death. I open up my wallet, and it’s full of blood.
Gravity’s Rainbow
The Smashing Pumpkins
we can watch the world devoured in its hate.
The late prophet Bill Hicks
I’m so sick of arming the world and then sending troops over to destroy the fucking arms, you know what I mean? We keep arming these little countries then we go and blow the shit out of ’em. We’re like the bullies of the world, you know. We’re like Jack Palance in the movie Shane, throwing the pistol at the sheep herder’s feet: “Pick it up.” “I don’t wanna pick it up, mister; you’ll shoot me.” “Pick up the gun.” “Mister, I don’t want no trouble, huh. I just came downtown here to get some hard rock candy for my kids, some gingham for my wife. I don’t even know what gingham is, but she goes through about ten rolls a week of that stuff. I ain’t looking for no trouble, mister.” “Pick up the gun.” Boom, boom. “You all saw him. He had a gun.”

moar I’ll show you politics in America. Here it is, right here. “I think the puppet on the right shares my beliefs.” “I think the puppet on the left is more to my liking.” “Hey, wait a minute, there’s one guy holding out both puppets!” “Shut up! Go back to bed, America! Your government is in control. Here's Love Connection. Watch this and get fat and stupid. By the way, keep drinking beer, you fucking morons.”

All governments are liars and murderers. Go back to bed, America! Your government has figured out how it all transpired. Go back to bed, America! Your government is in control again. Here, here’s American Gladiators. Watch this, shut up! Go back to bed, America! Here is American Gladiators; here is 56 channels of it! Watch these pituitary retards bang their fucking skulls together and congratulate you on living in the land of freedom! Here you go, America: You are free to do what we tell you! You are free to do what we tell you!

The Supreme Court says pornography is anything without artistic merit that causes sexual thoughts, that’s their definition, essentially. No artistic merit, causes sexual thoughts. Hmm… Sounds like… every commercial on television, doesn’t it? You know, when I see those two twins on that Doublemint commercial? I’m not thinking of gum. I am thinking of chewing, so maybe that’s the connection they’re trying to make.

I have this feeling man, ’cause you know, it’s just a handful of people who run everything, you know… that’s true, it’s provable. It’s not… I’m not a fucking conspiracy nut; it’s provable. A handful, a very small elite, run and own these corporations, which include the mainstream media. I have this feeling that whoever is elected president, like Clinton was, no matter what you promise on the campaign trail – blah, blah, blah – when you win, you go into this smoke-filled room with the twelve industrialist capitalist scumfucks who got you in there. And you’re in this smoky room, and this little film screen comes down, and a big guy with a cigar goes, “Roll the film.” And it’s a shot of the Kennedy assassination from an angle you’ve never seen before that looks suspiciously like it’s from the grassy knoll. And then the screen goes up and the lights come up, and they go to the new president, “Any questions?” “Er, just what my agenda is.” “First we bomb Baghdad.” “You got it…”

They don’t want the voice of reason spoken, folks, ’cause otherwise, we’d be free. Otherwise, we wouldn’t believe their fucking horseshit lies, nor the fucking propaganda machine of the mainstream media and buy their horseshit products that we don’t fucking need and become a third world consumer fucking plantation, which is what we’re becoming. Fuck them! They are liars and murderers. All governments are liars and murderers, and I am now Jesus, and this is MY compound.

The world is like a ride at an amusement park. It goes up and down and round and round. It has thrills and chills and it’s very brightly coloured and it’s very loud and it’s fun for awhile. Some people have been on the ride for a long time and they begin to question, is this real, or is this just a ride? And other people have remembered, and they come back to us, they say, “hey – don't worry, don’t be afraid, ever, because this is just a ride…” And we… kill those people. Haha. “Shut him up. We have a lot invested in this ride. Shut him up. Look at my furrows of worry. Look at my big bank account and my family. This just has to be real.” It’s just a ride. But we always kill those good guys who try and tell us that, you ever notice that? And let the demons run amok. Jesus murdered; Martin Luther King mudered; Malcolm X murdered; Gandhi murdered; John Lennon murdered; Reagan… wounded. But it doesn’t matter because it’s just a ride. And we can change it anytime we want. It’s only a choice. No effort, no work, no job, no savings and money. A choice, right now, between fear and love. The eyes of fear want you to put bigger locks on your doors, buy guns, close yourself off. The eyes of love, instead, see all of us as one. Here’s what we can do to change the world, right now, to a better ride. Take all that money that we spend on weapons and defences each year and instead spend it feeding and clothing and educating the poor of the world, which it would many times over, not one human being excluded, and we could explore space, together, both inner and outer, forever, in peace. Thank you; you’ve been great.

ACF awards an' shit Best Member Rep · Best Signature · Most Respected · Best Poster · Best Debater · Most Intelligent · Most Political Knowledge · Second Most Literary Knowledge · Third Best Male Member (Tie) · Third Most Likely to Get Modded (Tie) · Third Most Likely to Become the Next Admin
quote
Toementor
Aryn dashes down the remaining stairs to Frederick's side and draws back the string on her bow.
Aryn Attack rolls
Arrow To hit: [d20 = 4] = 2 < 13 = Miss


As she releases her pull, the arrows flies out and past the head of it's target.
__________________
You can't make an omelette without ruthlessly crushing dozens of eggs beneath your steel boot and then publicly disemboweling the chickens that laid them as a warning to others.

]
quote
Toementor
Two more robed men storm into the tavern, dirk in hand, with one duel-weidling daggers. One charges past Unglar to strike Aryn.

Unglar's Attack of Opportunity
To hit: [1d20 = 9] + 3 > 11
Damage: [1d12 = 9] + 2 = 11 damage.

However, as he tries to pass, Unglar swings a great side-ways swing and bisects the robed man in-twain, blood pooling on the hard oak floor. The man with duel daggers runs into the Half-Orc, ready to stab as the man in leather also prepares to strike.

Strangers attack rolls
Robed daggers man~ to hit: [1d20 = 7] - 3 < 11,
Second attack to hit: [d20 = 19] - 7 > 11
Damage: [1d4 = 4]

Leather-armoured man~ to hit: [1d20 = 2] + 1 < 11

The robed man lunges at Unglar with his first strike, whom he is able to dodge it's thrust, jumping back, but his high slashing second dagger finds it's mark, and a hits Unglar high in his right arm and shoulder. His leathered companion has lost too much blood to properly swing his broadsword, and Unglar dodges this strike with easy, who now prepares to strike back.
__________________
You can't make an omelette without ruthlessly crushing dozens of eggs beneath your steel boot and then publicly disemboweling the chickens that laid them as a warning to others.

]

Toementor fucked around with this message on 2015/12/21 at 23:35:11.
quote
gjb911169
"ARGGGHHHH!!!!!!!!! TIME FOR MORE BLOOD!!!!!!!!!!" As I swing my Great Axe at the dual wielding dagger man.
quote
Toementor
Unglar's attack roll
To hit: [D20 = 8] + 3 = 11
Damage: [1D12 = 11] + 2 = 13 damage
(He's dead)
__________________
You can't make an omelette without ruthlessly crushing dozens of eggs beneath your steel boot and then publicly disemboweling the chickens that laid them as a warning to others.

]
quote
gjb911169
My Axe strikes into his torso cleaving his chest and cutting into his heart. "MORE BLOOD FOR MY AXE!!!"
quote
Drav
OOC: Is there anyone left in the room for me to attack? Not sure if I'm counting right but if Aaron was attacking someone, and two guys showed up who are now dead, then there should still be one person left?
quote
Toementor
Drav wrote: OOC: Is there anyone left in the room for me to attack? Not sure if I'm counting right but if Aaron was attacking someone, and two guys showed up who are now dead, then there should still be one person left?
OOC: Yup. Just the guy with the leather armour left.
__________________
You can't make an omelette without ruthlessly crushing dozens of eggs beneath your steel boot and then publicly disemboweling the chickens that laid them as a warning to others.

]
quote
Drav
I race towards the leather-bound fiend and take a swing with my mace.
quote
Toementor
Frederick Attack roll
To hit: [D20 = 11] + 1 < 13

Frederick swings at the final man standing, but he somehow manages to stumble out of mace-reach.
__________________
You can't make an omelette without ruthlessly crushing dozens of eggs beneath your steel boot and then publicly disemboweling the chickens that laid them as a warning to others.

]
quote
AD
My eyes shine with a crazy glean as I rush the final leathery foe, taking a swing with my mighty sword.
quote
Toementor
Arschloch Attack roll
Top hit: [D20 = 8] + 5 = 13
Damage: [D8 = 4] + 3 = 7 damage


OOC: The last of the foes have been felled.
__________________
You can't make an omelette without ruthlessly crushing dozens of eggs beneath your steel boot and then publicly disemboweling the chickens that laid them as a warning to others.

]
quote
AD
As the enemy's blood gushes forth from his chest, I crow in delight as I finally got to fight things.

Then I remember I am now kind of sad that there is nothing left to fight.

But still. SWEET VICTORY!
quote
Toementor
As the leather-clad stranger slumps to the floor, the tavern once again becomes silent. Despite the ruckus, there is no apparent activity outside, other than the shine of the moon, which is now at full light, despite not a full moon. It is about half an hour past the middle of night.

OOC: You have now completed your first combat of the campaign. Congrats! Glad to say that this has already been more successful than my last endeavour at PBP D&D. Heh. You are now free to return to do what you will as a party. But first... a little housekeeping...

Experience gained:
Unglar: 350 XP
Frederick: 350 XP
Arschloch: 350 XP
Aryn: 325 XP

Frederick is currently on 7/10 HP.
Unglar is currently on 7/11 HP.
The others are on full health.

On another note, spellcasters may wish rest and prepare new spells for the morning.
and as a house rule, sleeping for 8 hours will heal 1d4 + con bonus of health.
__________________
You can't make an omelette without ruthlessly crushing dozens of eggs beneath your steel boot and then publicly disemboweling the chickens that laid them as a warning to others.

]
quote
gjb911169
As I wipe the blood of my Axe, need a clean weapon to battle again. "All I am returning back to my slumber. Arshloch do not disturb me or get a foot up your ass."
quote
AD
Arschloch decides to lounge around down in the main area of the tavern for the night while debating whether or not to go push Unglar off the bed again fgj.
quote
Drav
I search some of the bodies to see if there are any clues as to who they are.
quote
Toementor
Other than the weapons and armour that they carrying (4 daggers, a longsword, 3 sets of dark robes, with crimson accents and leather armour), each of the figures are carrying a small circular wooden disc, about the circumference size of a mug. Each of these discs have a symbol of Erythnul carved in it on one side, the handiwork however is not crude.

They also have about 67 gold pieces between them.
__________________
You can't make an omelette without ruthlessly crushing dozens of eggs beneath your steel boot and then publicly disemboweling the chickens that laid them as a warning to others.

]
quote
Drav
I grimace a little, pile all the gold onto a table, and move on to examine the barrels that the robed man brought in with him.
quote
Toementor
The barrels are all branded with the symbol of Erythnul. The fluid which flowed from the appear to be some sort of mixture of a tree's sap, and the blood of some sort of animal.
__________________
You can't make an omelette without ruthlessly crushing dozens of eggs beneath your steel boot and then publicly disemboweling the chickens that laid them as a warning to others.

]
quote
Drav
Can I tell whether they were spell components for a real ritual?
quote
Toementor
As far as you can tell, yes.
__________________
You can't make an omelette without ruthlessly crushing dozens of eggs beneath your steel boot and then publicly disemboweling the chickens that laid them as a warning to others.

]
quote
Drav
I shift the barrels around so they're no longer make a triangle pattern and roll them over to a corner of the Inn, away from the door. "We should dispose of these in the morning." Otherwise, I take a step outside to see if there are any other suspicious figures around.
quote
Toementor
As you step outside, the town has returned to stillness and silence, other than the creak of a swaying blacksmith sign from across the road.
__________________
You can't make an omelette without ruthlessly crushing dozens of eggs beneath your steel boot and then publicly disemboweling the chickens that laid them as a warning to others.

]
quote
Howth Castle and Environs
I wait for Frederick to return to the inn, then mention that I'm going to head back up to my room to get some sleep, then do exactly that.
__________________


ff · tmv · reds · lj · last.fm · soundcloud · pm for facebook (which I never check)

“The trouble is that we have a bad habit, encouraged by pedants and sophisticates, of considering happiness as something rather stupid. Only pain is intellectual, only evil interesting. This is the treason of the artist: a refusal to admit the banality of evil and the terrible boredom of pain. If you can’t lick ’em, join ’em. If it hurts, repeat it. But to praise despair is to condemn delight, to embrace violence is to lose hold of everything else. We have almost lost hold; we can no longer describe happy man, nor make any celebration of joy.”
-Ursula K. Le Guin, “The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas

“I never knew a man could tell so many lies
He had a different story for every set of eyes
How can he remember who he’s talking to?
’Cause I know it ain’t me, and I hope it isn’t you”
-Neil Young, “Ambulance Blues”
I’m armed to the teeth
Like a fucking animal
I ruin everything
I get my bony hands on

And here we go now over the bridge of sighs
We will get a cross like Christ, crucified
It’s like a birth but it is in reverse
Never gets better, always gets worse
Voilà! In view, a humble vaudevillian veteran, cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of fate. This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is a vestige of the vox populi, now vacant, vanished. However, this valorous visitation of a bygone vexation stands vivified, and has vowed to vanquish these venal and virulent vermin vanguarding vice and vouchsafing the violently vicious and voracious violation of volition. The only verdict is vengeance; a vendetta held as a votive, not in vain, for the value and veracity of such shall one day vindicate the vigilant and the virtuous. Verily, this vichyssoise of verbiage veers most verbose vis-à-vis an introduction, so let me simply add that it’s my very good honor to meet you and you may call me V.
Vaulting, veering, vomiting up the values that victimized me, feeling vast,
feeling virginal... was this how he felt? This verve, this vitality... this vision...

La voie... la vérité... la vie.
(SPOILER)
The Dead Flag Blues
The car is on fire, and there’s no driver at the wheel, and the sewers are all muddied with a thousand lonely suicides, and a dark wind blows. The government is corrupt, and we’re on so many drugs with the radio on and the curtains drawn. We are trapped in the belly of this horrible machine, and the machine is bleeding to death. The sun has fallen down, and the billboards are all leering, and the flags are all dead at the top of their poles.

It went like this: The buildings tumbled in on themselves; mothers clutching babies picked through the rubble and pulled out their hair. The skyline was beautiful on fire, all twisted metal stretching upwards, everything washed in a thin orange haze. I said, “Kiss me, you are beautiful; these are truly the last days.” You grabbed my hand, and we fell into it like a daydream or a fever.

We woke up one morning and fell a little further down; for sure it’s the valley of death. I open up my wallet, and it’s full of blood.
Gravity’s Rainbow
The Smashing Pumpkins
we can watch the world devoured in its hate.
The late prophet Bill Hicks
I’m so sick of arming the world and then sending troops over to destroy the fucking arms, you know what I mean? We keep arming these little countries then we go and blow the shit out of ’em. We’re like the bullies of the world, you know. We’re like Jack Palance in the movie Shane, throwing the pistol at the sheep herder’s feet: “Pick it up.” “I don’t wanna pick it up, mister; you’ll shoot me.” “Pick up the gun.” “Mister, I don’t want no trouble, huh. I just came downtown here to get some hard rock candy for my kids, some gingham for my wife. I don’t even know what gingham is, but she goes through about ten rolls a week of that stuff. I ain’t looking for no trouble, mister.” “Pick up the gun.” Boom, boom. “You all saw him. He had a gun.”

moar I’ll show you politics in America. Here it is, right here. “I think the puppet on the right shares my beliefs.” “I think the puppet on the left is more to my liking.” “Hey, wait a minute, there’s one guy holding out both puppets!” “Shut up! Go back to bed, America! Your government is in control. Here's Love Connection. Watch this and get fat and stupid. By the way, keep drinking beer, you fucking morons.”

All governments are liars and murderers. Go back to bed, America! Your government has figured out how it all transpired. Go back to bed, America! Your government is in control again. Here, here’s American Gladiators. Watch this, shut up! Go back to bed, America! Here is American Gladiators; here is 56 channels of it! Watch these pituitary retards bang their fucking skulls together and congratulate you on living in the land of freedom! Here you go, America: You are free to do what we tell you! You are free to do what we tell you!

The Supreme Court says pornography is anything without artistic merit that causes sexual thoughts, that’s their definition, essentially. No artistic merit, causes sexual thoughts. Hmm… Sounds like… every commercial on television, doesn’t it? You know, when I see those two twins on that Doublemint commercial? I’m not thinking of gum. I am thinking of chewing, so maybe that’s the connection they’re trying to make.

I have this feeling man, ’cause you know, it’s just a handful of people who run everything, you know… that’s true, it’s provable. It’s not… I’m not a fucking conspiracy nut; it’s provable. A handful, a very small elite, run and own these corporations, which include the mainstream media. I have this feeling that whoever is elected president, like Clinton was, no matter what you promise on the campaign trail – blah, blah, blah – when you win, you go into this smoke-filled room with the twelve industrialist capitalist scumfucks who got you in there. And you’re in this smoky room, and this little film screen comes down, and a big guy with a cigar goes, “Roll the film.” And it’s a shot of the Kennedy assassination from an angle you’ve never seen before that looks suspiciously like it’s from the grassy knoll. And then the screen goes up and the lights come up, and they go to the new president, “Any questions?” “Er, just what my agenda is.” “First we bomb Baghdad.” “You got it…”

They don’t want the voice of reason spoken, folks, ’cause otherwise, we’d be free. Otherwise, we wouldn’t believe their fucking horseshit lies, nor the fucking propaganda machine of the mainstream media and buy their horseshit products that we don’t fucking need and become a third world consumer fucking plantation, which is what we’re becoming. Fuck them! They are liars and murderers. All governments are liars and murderers, and I am now Jesus, and this is MY compound.

The world is like a ride at an amusement park. It goes up and down and round and round. It has thrills and chills and it’s very brightly coloured and it’s very loud and it’s fun for awhile. Some people have been on the ride for a long time and they begin to question, is this real, or is this just a ride? And other people have remembered, and they come back to us, they say, “hey – don't worry, don’t be afraid, ever, because this is just a ride…” And we… kill those people. Haha. “Shut him up. We have a lot invested in this ride. Shut him up. Look at my furrows of worry. Look at my big bank account and my family. This just has to be real.” It’s just a ride. But we always kill those good guys who try and tell us that, you ever notice that? And let the demons run amok. Jesus murdered; Martin Luther King mudered; Malcolm X murdered; Gandhi murdered; John Lennon murdered; Reagan… wounded. But it doesn’t matter because it’s just a ride. And we can change it anytime we want. It’s only a choice. No effort, no work, no job, no savings and money. A choice, right now, between fear and love. The eyes of fear want you to put bigger locks on your doors, buy guns, close yourself off. The eyes of love, instead, see all of us as one. Here’s what we can do to change the world, right now, to a better ride. Take all that money that we spend on weapons and defences each year and instead spend it feeding and clothing and educating the poor of the world, which it would many times over, not one human being excluded, and we could explore space, together, both inner and outer, forever, in peace. Thank you; you’ve been great.

ACF awards an' shit Best Member Rep · Best Signature · Most Respected · Best Poster · Best Debater · Most Intelligent · Most Political Knowledge · Second Most Literary Knowledge · Third Best Male Member (Tie) · Third Most Likely to Get Modded (Tie) · Third Most Likely to Become the Next Admin
quote
Drav
Satisfied that there are no other immediate threats, I look for a comfortable place in the main hall of the Inn to doze off.
quote
Toementor
Roughly eight and a half hours pass, and before long Frederick is shaken awake by Godfred. "Curses! What on Kehros happened here?!!", he says, clearly referencing to the blood soaked floors, the bodies of the robed figures, and the other unfamiliarities in the Pick and Hammer Tavern. "I'm sure you did what had to be done. Well, like I said, here is our greatest hunter, Agrilond."

Agrilond is an elf, and is quite possibly the only one in town. He is of a tall, fairly thin stature, yet of athletic build, has fiery red hair, and two visible claw-like scars running across his left cheek. "Did these men have anything of significance on them?" he asks.

Other men who must be in the employ of Godfred are doing their part to try to return the tavern to its former state. Moving the tables and chairs back to place. An adolescent is trying to scrub some of the stains from the floor.
__________________
You can't make an omelette without ruthlessly crushing dozens of eggs beneath your steel boot and then publicly disemboweling the chickens that laid them as a warning to others.

]
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