Mouse
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Post by Mouse on Mar 27, 2006 15:55:11 GMT -7
Fillet Vignettes, the Beasts in their Number 3. Where it's been said before, of anyone, by anyone, bears repeating. Long ago a dark alliance was formed, the *~Chronicles of the Knights Errant~* www.cgshade.com/board/showthread.php?s=&threadid=2898details this. Vignettes of such grace and majesty and power that rattled the heart of those allied or opposed alike. YeloSnow, or as I still think of him as, SnoLeprd, assembled all these. Knights Fury he was known as, and a true sense of ChAoTic aNiMaL he represented. He stood on the razor's edge of danger and controversy often, but as one who snarled at the face of caution to become a danger unto himself this rarely deeply troubled him. Probably the most dangerous talon on the claw of {CAT} to be sure. In him is untapped honor tempered with a rowdy sense of realism, he had no mistaken thought of who he was and where he was in the scheme of things, a canny beast we're talkin about here. His ways were unclear to some, and dreadfully understanded by hardlearned others. Understood to the layman, understanded cause I just wanted ta say it like that, so what. Vignette's past present and future all being equal, which they might not be, but for the value of the character they present show us deeper looks at who around us we thought we knew, and know now in a new light. Telltale tales signs like steam rising proudly from melting yellow snow.
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Mouse
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Posts: 143
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Post by Mouse on Mar 31, 2006 12:10:40 GMT -7
Fillet Vignettes, The Beasts in their Number 4! Jest don't Trik me!
From the earliest beginnings of Shade, near as I can tell, this Trik has trode the mindscape. From at least a much earlier time than mine own at least, he's been in on the world of Shade. His mind was as nimble as his gear, his wit sharp as his Demon Screamer. He Shaded His way and that was what made him a prime Beastwarrior, a Clanimal of {CAT}.
Trik was at his confunnsingest tonight, his puns flew rapid fire like a stream of dragon's breath. He was decked out in full clown and jester regalia and attire. Surrounded in Balloon animals, carved pumpkins, balloon pumpkins, carved animals and the rare extremely difficult carved balloon pumpkanimal. Absurd or Impossible weren't words defined in Trik's world.
The shelves of the Shops at the Boar and Skewer laid unattended with goods exceeded only by those sold by the Elf King north of Thunderdome ever since it was discovered you could get there or anywhere else simply by benefit of the Teleport Token. Many have sought after all these goodsand golds, but have found none, yet. Were they eeeven looking? I Think Not Hard Enough.
I don't, I really don't think hard enough, he boggles me too at times, you gotta wake up pretty early on the weird side of the stool to keep up with his mindset at times. 360 channels mindset, cable and satellite and enraged rabbit ear antenna. With a mind on par with some of Shade's top strategists and tacticians, maybe having already figured it all out already, just keeping mum on he subject.
He's living the dream, doing what he's always wanted to do, being what he wants to be, and nothing in Shade can steer him from it. Nothing in the universe could possibly change all that. You gotta admire that in a man, or a clown, a jester or a warrior. He's as merciless afield as he is affront, uh, afore, hmmm, intown. Stand back from his splash and splattering, lay low when he's slashingly chattering.
As the crowd thins out, he lets out a huuuge yawn, not the player, a verb, we've done the yaWn gig to bits already, leave it be, lol. He lets out a large mouth opening sleepy noise and gets up slowly, dusting off his costume from all the confetti and carved baloon pumpkanimal fragments.
Despite his huge size, strength, levels of experience and other obseqious commentary I can add here, he's a humble Shader, not making a big deal of it. He was among the best of the best clans, the best leader that {Trk} had ever seen, and now acted as advisor in {CAT} though we chaotic clanimals rarely seek advice on matters before acting on them excepting matters of diplomacy and other boring civilities.
He was already out the door before anyone could answer his goodnight. To roads unseen by awakened eyes, he walked the rainbow bridge through upsidedown caves in the clouds where moons were more numerous than stars and comets slowed down to enjoy the strange scenery scenery. Both hot Ice and Wondrous strange snow glitered on the floors and ceiling. The steelwood hinges of his doorway creaked open, then the door too itself opened. The powerful, but peaceful omnivore clanimal of {CAT}, Trik, was finally, after so short a time, back home again.
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Mouse
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Post by Mouse on Mar 31, 2006 12:12:37 GMT -7
Fillet Vignettes, the Beasts in their Number 5! Felinara'd like this short and brief and to the point, alot like she is so.., Feral Statuesque.
Serenly sitting as was her Custom, leaning to the left, wondering if she could trust em, or chance like winds upswept. The Clan assembled around her varied greatly indeed, from those rank fearless carnivores, to those who plant to feed. The names she'd heard often before, though hadn't really met, legends placed from shore to shore, from seasoned newbie to early vet. She hunted rarely and rarer yet, talked with humans at all, for she was quick for throats to slit and watch their crimson fall. So instead of company, she entertained a few, and was entertained back in return by those who shared her point of view. No other clan to her fit as well as all did we, so here she sits serenly, known as Felinara{CAT} to me.
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Mouse
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Post by Mouse on Mar 31, 2006 12:15:04 GMT -7
{A huuuuge part of the original story was lost due to a 60 second edit timeout, but let's see what was salvaged}
A heavily armored figure strode up to the large colorfully addressed tentipi, YeloSnow stood guard though, couldn't have just AnYoNe walking in on these proceedings. "State yer business bud, or fry where you stand."
The figure stopped "I'm here on tribal invitation, as an emmisary of our clan and our alignment to witness due proceedings."
Yelo snatched a scroll from the intruder and saw three letters of a recognized tag on it's seal. "Yer smellin alot like Bacon, bub, ya better have a good reason for being here. Does the big 'Cat know yer here?"
"Heheh, Yelo, he Invited me!"
Yelo leaned forward and sniffed once, getting a good eye to eye contact. "Well I think he might be outta his damn mind fur letting one of you be witness to such private clan rituals. If it were up to me I'm pigstick and charboil you where you stand. You and your so called Clan aint welcome in these dark parts. Sure a few among ya might be cool enough but yer sour from within bub, bad apples. Behave in there." Yelo stepped aside and drew aside the curtaindoor leading to the council area.
Slapping the table cackling hilariously was the new ChAoTic Clanimal! Several half empty mugs of beer tippd and rolled off the table landing in their spills, but he was the only one laughing, the rest of the establishment was in nervous whispers, silently entering and leaving or just gaping in puzzled amazement. This thing was weird, and damn ugly, yet somehow kind of familiar. BarnCat came down, looked around and saw it. He covered his eyes and groaned. The damn thing had gotten out and was already fast at work estranging itself from the Shade community, excellent, just earlier than he'd planned.
After some rushed apologies, recompensation for damages, annoyances, and emotional trauma the Cat and the new critter were on their way.
Trik and Eaglex sat side by side, a left side to a right side supposedly. Eaglex was ofcourse impatient, she didn't usually just sit still for long unless distracted, usually flighty. Trik was at some minor mischief tugging at her headfeathers but looking away hands behaving before he could turn around or slap his hand, she was getting real impatient.
Condok showed the anonymous figure inside, leading him by knifepoint to his reserved seat. Felinara was about to intercede, then remembered the tag this warrior came from and decided their comfort level was fine right there. Sure this one was nice, but until he wizened up and switched alignments or at least to a more worthy clan, he had to be shown what position his position has him in. He was actually damn lucky to be invited and probably luckier if he was allowed to depart alive.
BarnCat walked in. "Ah good great everyone's here, still I wanna call attendance, because my teacher did it alot and I wanna see what the big draw is."
Raiven and WyldDrgN of {COC}stood up saluted and offered up a couple of gift items, a Broadsword of Ego and a starter run of 5000 gold. EGO was a fond memory many of them shared, and representative of an enjoyable dark unity.
Pinkaaa stood saluted and offered a few starter maps and weaponry guides, this new arrival was going to be kinda like a new ugly little brother so the feelings were mixed there, hopeful, but watchful.
Trik, Condok, Eaglex, YeloSnow and Felinara stood and offered forth an emblazoned elegant and mystical permatag, that once attached to living skin would never come off. It was in a great red blue and black tigerstripe pattern and clearly read {CAT}.
Finally, it would have to be time for the Witness to stand, but he had nothing visible to offer, and this was not good, dangerous even. "Anonymouse" we'll call him had only a speech to give, typical you might say of that group, but let's hear him out.
Ahem. "Finest Clanimals, it has come to my attention that a new member joins your ranks, adds to the clan, increases the darkness over Shade and strengthens the Forces of Chaos just that much more." Several members nodded teeth showing fanglike.
BarnCat bade him return to his seat "You were invited as a representative of your alignment and because you of all your group were of the most help to us. I salute your bravery in turning a shoulder to your clan if for a bit to participate in proceedings amongst those of us darker, some of us would kill you on a whim. But that may be for a later time. I just swept and mopped in here and bloodshed takes hours to clean off Any surface."
The new Clanimal wheezed a short bark of contained laughter, looking more than ready to get on with the ceremony. "LAHDEEdaw! DEE? Wiggle bee tickle bee lock jaw DROPJAW!" BarnCat looked to the assembly to explain "Uh he speaks an ancient...er form of Jesterian so I'll be acting as his Translator."
Yelo leaned over and whispered to Condok "He means ta say the new critter's brainfried, can't talk right, and the cat wantsta get things underway BEFORE tommorow night." Condok chuckled.
Felinara and everyone assembled asked the questions in turn, it was a character class judgement to determine worthiness to the clan. This was a clan of character, the lifeforce of many of these clanimals shone brighter than any bland grey stack of accomplishments and levels ever could, and the tradition would continue, starting and continuing here, after all was said and done the fnal form was drawn up and stored, and it would read:
Who were the character's parents? Creator BarnCat, who accessed the doors to the other other other side, the real weird one, and brought Him through.
Did they raise the character? There wasn't alot of time to develop and train the new clanimal before now, but he's a quick learner, reinforced with stratured beatings, his learning curve will bend or snap, but his raising will be great.
If not why? Uh.
If not them who? Huh.
Did the character have any childhood friends? Something this weird and ugly doesn't attract alot of real friends, imaginary ones, maybe and that is ideal, because, well we'll get to that.
Any siblings? We would hope not, excepting big older stepsibling Pinkaroo.
Where are they now? Why ask me? Go look for em.
Does the character stay in touch with them or have they become separated? Seperated.
If separated why? Because?
What was childhood like for the character? Very very very odd, walls talked, floors breathed, chickens cackled from empty coops, sun dropped rainflakes right off the corner of where the roof droops.
Calm and peaceful or turbulent and traumatic? To continue let's just say his night was day and and things his way did rarely stay.
Does the character have any or did the character have any role models? Shiny objects and other distracting things, funny things, simple things, things that scream when you bite them. Describe them? Just did.
What did the character do before he / she entered the story? It's described as he originated from the Dream Realm, and enhanced animal form, that broke free of his world, made his way through something called The Desecrated Temple, severing employment from his former employer, the gold wizard, Sumner. His soul found freedom and translation into a different form for life in Shade.
Who trained the character to do what she / he does now? Reflex the Blue Jester and Sumner the Gold Wizard. His current trainers, handlers are BarnCat and whoever else, lol.
What is the character's relationship with his teacher(s)? Inattentive.
What are the character's moral, ethical and religious beliefs? Morals are an obstacle, ethics are a bit much to remember, and religion, thre is no one more important to worship than yourself.
What lengths will the character go to defend those beliefs? You don't wanna know.
Who or what taught those beliefs to the character? It's believed Nature teaches this creature how it'll function.
Does the character have any unusual habits or physical traits? Scratching sniffing, cackling laughing, not making much sense, smelling odd, makes people feel a bit uncomfortable, stares.
What are they? These questions repeat themselves, lol.
What do they stem from? A lifetime in the Dream Realm where actions had no real or correct consequences, reality hasn't fully set in, and the attitude is still lax in regards to action reaction.
How do others tend to react to them? We'll just have to see now won't we? But so far, awkward silences, some laughter, and just leaving the scene of the crime.
What is the general reaction to the character of other characters? These questions do seem to repeat themselves.
Why, in the character's opinion, do they act that way? Becase it is Them who are weird, and boring too, probably "not well thunk in head" {mentally handicapped, lol}
Can the character kill? When did he decide (or learn) that he could? Almost directly right after he did, though death to him being his or others doesn't have any reverent hold on him, he'll avoid it from the discomfort it causes himself and others, but if something does happen, oh well.
Why would the character kill? Because he can, he wanted to and he did.
Does he/she have any enemies at all? From his homelands, he described a Shadow Fiend who ruled over CarnyImps and MirrorWraiths and WalkyHands. {Exact translation escapes us, but we get the idea.}
Would or could the character kill them? He claims to have done so and always does so, evidently the rules of Death in the Dream Realm are vastly simalar and identically different to those we know of in Shade.
What kind of relationships does the character currently have? BarnCat isis trainer handler, and possible parent, Pinka, his older sibling. WyldDrgN, a kind of godmother. Raiven, chief guidance counselor, and many many more.
Does he/she have any close friends? Real ones or Imaginary ones?
Bitter enemies? Walnuts, they're Bitter and he hates them.
If so who? Uh?
What are they like? Small round hardshelled, of the Nut family, but debatable as an actuall foodstuff.
What is the history of the character and this person's relationship? Ever have a hard sharp little walnut shell stuck between your teeth for days on end? Well this was not forgotten.
Does the character have any mental problems? Absolutely!
Phobias? Work, Boredom, menial trivialities.
If so what are they? Uh?
What do they stem from? too many people, lack of time.
How does the character generally treat others? Nicely nicely, until otherwise provoked.
Does she/he trust easily? Depends.
Or not? Huh?
How does the character relate to people? People are funny noisy shapes to him, or intelligent entertaining food, and a type of creature he studies.
Is he a shy and withdrawn or a condescending snob? He's suspected of a secret shyness he hides behind an extroverted personality.
What does the character look like? This is where it really gets good. ok, for you LOTR people a Warg an UrukHai and Gollum blended, nasty aint it? For those not in the know, a werehyena clownjester.
Does he/she have any scars or tattoos? A very intricate and alien set of tattoos on each forearm.
If so how did she/he get them? This shall remain a mystery.
Obviously this includes eye and hair color, but unusual gaits and accents come into play here as well. Of cuorse, greygreen fur the color of dried algae, black and white spots and stripes. Loping hopping skipping gait, nonsensical phrases most likely the reaction to things going on outside or within himself, but getting lost on the way to his mouth coming out scrambled.
What is the character's normal daily routine? People watching, hunting, being just downright odd.
How does he/she feel when it's interrupted for whatever reason? Irritated, highly highly irritated, silently vowing death on the interruptor.
Was the character present during any key events in the history of the campaign world? Maybe in spirit.
How did that event affect the character? Uh?
Does the character have a notorious or celebrated ancestor? presumed it was Reflex, the Blue Jester.
What did he or she do? Unknown, most likely Jesting.
What do people assume about the character when his/her ancestry is known? They might assume BarnCat's just collecting up on bizzare bastard children.
Does the character actively try to live up to the reputation, try dispel it or try to ignore it? It amuses him.
Where is the character's homeland? Dream Realm, 3rd node to the right of Sumner's Councilroom, Desecrated Temple.
What is it's history and what are it's people like? That is a whole other story.
Is the character patriotic, or a social outcast? Outcast.
What is his opinion of home? Home was very funny to him.
What are the character's dreams? He dreams in colors, he dreams of life.
Ambitions? Undefined.
Goals? Unknown
How does she / he seek to obtain them? Easily
How does adventuring fit into this dream, or does it at all? Adventure happens along the way, if it doesn't it must be found.
Does the character ever want to have a family of his / her own someday? Maybe a litter or tw of pups, but the silence of his abode is nice.
If so with who or what type of person? Blah!
And without the original aplomb and pomp the draft copy had, we'll just welcome Hyena{CAT} to Shade and end it off here.
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Mouse
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Post by Mouse on Mar 31, 2006 12:21:52 GMT -7
quote: -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Originally posted by CatDrgN To those asking isn't a Hyena a Dog? In a Cat Clan? First we don't discriminate, and a Hyena is as much a Cat as a Cheetah is a Dog, if ya get my meaning.
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Whoops upon further research, {HighFives Wikipedia!} Hyenas are more closely related to Mongooses and Meerkats. {I had the Kat part right, lol!}
Yo bosscat, Hyena very busy to talk to you but reply to question asking me. Me making killing up here, trolls and ogres slow stupid not the half smart I am! I runs slices dices guts shakes wiggles giggles and laughs cause much funny is this. Me puts the Slaughter in Laughters by move the "S" around or something. Yesterdaynight Me follows shader around.
LMAO!
Much funny but ok me follows Shader around, me just look want, but not hold still this shader, keeps running, me took shower! What the problem, lmao, but me follows. Ok but that another story for nowhere. When you plan to open mailbox, Bosscat? I checks the daily will be opening soon, you lazy I think but I mean in good way. Mail me better gear when can.
Me begging newbie, more and more craves for the fast killing. Saw SharKey* pub Byrendell about one or few days ago. She say Hi or would say Hi if she did so in case she do, it Hi to you from her. Fighter Ranger climbing like itsy bitsy spider, eager for the more more levels me is. Training hard to pride of the clan me be! Let you down me not plans to.
Signcerely, HyEnA{CAT}
Felinara folded the letter and rubbed her eyes, reading Hyena's strange dialect was a borderline migraine.
BarnCat leaned back and smiled "What a character, oh to be that young and fast again."
Felinara shook her head "He's a nutcase, he probably fits in too well, but he's creepy I'll say that much."
BarnCat wickedly grinned "Don't get too attached to him my dear, I have plans for him."
"And they include?"
"Well, all I can say for now is we're gonna fatten him up a bit more, and then... then we Kill him!"
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Mouse
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Post by Mouse on Mar 31, 2006 12:23:36 GMT -7
Volcana Hyeno! Hyano Volcena! "Grrr, Hyena look like TrAsH cAn!" Hyena sulked, his arms crossed and lowerlip pouted out past his snout. BarnCat slapped him upside his steelhelmed head WhacKLANG! "You smell like one too, hush up. You are Not going to wear MY Good Armor to try a Bal'Rak run in."
Felinara snickered but had to ask if this was really a wise mission to send him on.
BarnCat grinned. "He's my newbie and he'll die if I want him to."
"Die if you want him to?" Felinara was shocked.
"Die if I want him to!"
Hyena stuck his tongue out at Felinara "You would die too if this happen to you!"
BarnCat slapklanged Hyena's bucketted head with his already bruised paw. "You will not Die, you will Try, in Try there Is no Die, you either Do or Do Again!"
Hyena stood up, surveyed himself, absently scratching his butt. Barnat slapped his arm, "Quit it, that's supposed to be there."
Hyena smiled "Me know, it my Butt, but something else back there!"
Indeed there was, and it wasn't his tail. This armor thoughly cheaply boughtly for the price of a donated black pearl demon dagger {Ty DCD dude!}, was customfitted with hinges!
"Let's go over this one more time, because it won't do any good, you don't listen and I'm boring, but the sound of my own voice is one of life's great pleasures," BarnCat unrolled some scribbled scrolls of diagrams
"This armor is designed to transform! The minute you see a dragon you can't bait away or get around you stop, drop and roll, pulling in your arms and legs and head, the shield flips to the front and the rest of the armor compacts in on itself until you finally resemble, albeit metallically a metal chest, or square metal boulder, whichever works for you."
Hyena tried this, ducked slumped, rolled and stopped, whining. Was he claustrophobic? No, he'd gotten his tail caught pinchingly between two of the sliding plates. This would not do, we couldn't have him whining in his cookware, oops, armor and attracting negative attention.
A little more work and he was ready to go. {CAT} Clan's laughing great grey dope, the steelcoated can of hair homing missile fired at Bal'Rak known as Hyena.
...And through Hellfire and Brimstone the little monster Made it!
...And was promptly busted on charges of attempted shoplifting of the Bal'Rak Armory.
...I should have given him some money, just didn't want him teleporting.., Heh heh.
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Mouse
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Post by Mouse on Mar 31, 2006 12:26:18 GMT -7
The Hyenapurr's New Clothes? Whistling to himself badly, Hyena merrily cleaned the shop counter. Business was good. Would be better if he had the salesmanlike killer instinct to charge profitable fees, but gold was just not his thing. He realized he had to make some profit to get bosscat his goods too, but boss cat, or lazycat as Hyena quipped him as was already sittin welldone.
The wooden box to his paw that had the "L" drawn on it, to his right, his other right, buzzed and he flipped the lid open, the fireflies within spelled out in luminous green "Sails Odor Inamint!" They couldn't spell too good, but neather cud Hyena so it trainlatet jus fyn. Hyena immediately ran to the post office and shipped out an exorbitantly high priced small healing potion.
He struggled back out with a goldsack wider than the door, had to leap over it and throw himself headfirst into the sack to propel it through and the bag ripped, hence getting through but in hundreds of thousands of gold pieces. This was gnna take some small talk to kill time while he picked each gold piece up off the floor.
"Ok so how weather where you at?"
"Uh huh, yep, uh huh, me neither been to Displace Demon, but me hears he tough to kill at very first."
"Beautiful nice recipe for bile rat, but me already gots that. me cooked myself once quite total. No not self, myself, cooked bile rat myself. Me cook self would taste horrible!"
After all that was said and fun he divvied up each salesgold allotment to it's designated order and grabbed items off the shelf hurriedly to send free to it's buyers. He had no idea about gld and the worth of these items never having equipped and tried them himself. He only knew large numbers hurt his eyes.
He'd been in a light mood punctuated with serious shopkeeperlike mindset and peppered with spicy enthusiasm, but his sleep was quite the opposite. Lately he'd been having nightmares. In them he was pursued by a gigantic spectral cat that was trying to loom over him and steal his soul by absorbing it into the shadow he cast over him.
At one time he'd woken up probably still half in dreaming and saw the huge feline shadow looming over him breathing in the lifelight that lived in him like inhaling cigar smoke, each intake of it's breath fanning the green twin flames of eyes in it's black silhouetted head and he yipped out "No, not yet, still my time, not your's yet, leave me be lone!"
Remembering this filled him with a fear he'd never known from the dangers of the waking world, and a sad loneliness he'd at least always known. Laugh and the world laughs with you, but whine and you whine alone. He shook his head, scratched his air and spun spitting out raspberries tongue rippling an closed up shop before the real shopkeeper came back and noticed missing goods but significant profits.
His hopping skipping retreat was followed, footstep to distance, by a looming black shadow that would one day finally claim what was rightfully his. He/it was patient though, this little puppet show could go on for awhile longer. He was the master of his destiny, he pulled the strings as easily as he pulled the limbs off of living things.
He would have his day.
He would get his way.
And nothing would deny him.
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Mouse
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Post by Mouse on Mar 31, 2006 12:27:24 GMT -7
The Last Laugh and Full Circle. Erratic and strange, a shadow now roams the volcano at Level 5, towards Bal'Rak having gotten there and always been there.
It's seen out of the corner of your eye, like a memory leaking into actual view, haunting the edges of your perception. A dashing flash of a spotted and striped shadow here, glinting teeth there. Warriors hunting the volcano experienced this, monsters will actually avoid that area, never stepping on the exact space this otherdimensional haunt inhabits.
It's a rainy night in the Volcano, water drips and sizzles back into steam on the hot black rocks below.
At some moments an intense maniacal laughter suddenly ear splitting in level cause any hunting group to jump or look around rapidly and be joined by more eery otherworldy cacklings that crack the nerves.
A new form of darkness, a wilder heart in the night, a movement like none other, chaotic and primal in it's disposition would always be a part of the Chaotic Animal Tribe.
Yes, faithful reader, the being we'd come to know as Hyena has departed us as mysteriously as he had arrived. He made no deeper impression that the mental footnotes of those who knew him, and knew him for what he was. Myself, the Hyena showed me what a Chaotic Animal could really be capable of, he showed me he could, he showed me I could.
And now we close this story, eyes ringing, stars in floating front of our ears, our minds reeling and why not, just fur the fun of it, read it all over again?
The End.
...raises his mug in salute, blows a cigarsmelling smoke sphere and fades to blanc...
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Mouse
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Post by Mouse on Jul 2, 2006 10:24:14 GMT -7
"De plan, de Plans!" "It's so nice to have a plan.
Wrapping up the night's aimless hunting at my campsite with a goblet of red wine from the flask, still cool from the natural freezing night air and being buried underground, waiting for my return. There's nothing more patient and patiently reliable than a well hidden stash, a well buried secret.
Grimm left a few secrets behind, the sorcerous devil, and it looked like he'd never be around, to, at least not enough to truly elucidate upon those he and Lord Chaos put there themselves. He used to tell us questers that the lack of guidance was guidance in tiself. The obvious meaning escapes me, but the deeper one if one reads doubletalk well, is not good.
I'm wracking and maybe wrecking my brains cracking a combination, a puzzle that might have already been trashed, smashed or outright rehashed. But this red wine is good, ah it's nice to have a plan! Maybe the lack of a plan is a plan in itself, could be, could very well be.
People have been asking questions I rarely bother myself with, if at all. Why are we here, what is our purpose in Shadelife, how do we proceed? I have no answers myself, as I said, evidently I don't have the questions. I puzzle at the riddles, I muse over the actions and words of the humans, both infuriating and exhilerating. But I don't question much of it.
The humans behaviors are futile to even try to fathom, the puzzles wouldn't be so puzzling if they were understandable.
But damn thish ish gooood, aherm wine of an effervesh... effervescent crimson shade. Red too, see how easily that at least was defined, godsh it'sh nice.. to have a plan.
You make your own goals, you meet them, or you shorten them then meet them and make higher loftier goals, you live in the moment, you prepare for the future, and you never ever forget the past. If you can't imagine the world around you now, if there's no imagination then, well I'll put it this way I could NeVeR live like that.
It's nice to have a plan. What's the plan you ask? Hah! Plans. If I knew, I wouldn't tell you, and if I knew I wouldn't tell you, well I wouldn't tell you then would I? Things are afoot, things are happening, this is all you need to know. Overdue things that need doing over. You don't become a master of mystery by revealing all of the nothing in your mind. You don't become a prophet by revealing your commiserate cluelessness about the future.
But it's sure good to have a wine, wouldn't have thought it all up without a nice cool goblet of red plan, er wine, plan, nice." CaTdRgN tipped back the goblet and slumped back to gaze at the stars, BaRnOwL buzzing in his ears.
"So basically, ok, asked what your plans were and you also basically answer in long prose saying alot without really saying anything?"
"If that's what that appeared to be, then I guess the truth of that appearance ispretty likely." CaT smiled smugly, eyes lowering.
BaRnOwL growled a rumbling hoot "You really should have gotten into politics, you can confuse, evade and posture with the best of them."
"Zzzzz..,"
"Well just golly bob dandy, bosscat. fine, sleep well then." BaRn rotated his head around the auction room, nothing good, good stuff nothing affordable, affordable stuff being rarely any good. Oh look another damn bear's head. A sure rarity! "We do need a plan though, a storm is brewing, on the event horizon. Gods, it would sure be nice to have a plan."
BaRnOwL hung from the rafters, eyes glazed, but sleepless "But red wine would be just as nice...," because through the night he was restless, awake, unsleeping, and had t remind himself he was okay, just nocturnal.
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Mouse
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Posts: 143
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Post by Mouse on Jul 2, 2006 10:27:02 GMT -7
Odor in the Court "Just get everyone seated, I'll handle the news, fill some mugs if you would please?" BaRnOwL whispered to Felinara, who seemed claws glued to the floor in fright staring at the shadowy figure behind him. "I-i-i-is that really him?" she stammered. BaRnOwL rolled his eyes, then forgot owl eyes are disclike, so rotated his head instead.
Condok and Eaglex sat and exchanged news from afield, hunts were good, fun, profitable. Condok's son had taken his gear out for a wild ride as people in this era would do to the parent's hot sports car, and had wrecked somewhere. Being unfamiliar with Shade itself the younger warrior couldn't explain or define where he had crashed exactly. Eaglex chuckld while Condok related this tale, with a final groan, hands over his face over the folly of youth.
Reygar, yes he. Much younger and vital then we once knew him as, but somehow unchanged, throughout all the events of Shade having transpired he seemed untouched by it all, but this time around he was a visitor. As was Gladius, also younger of face and newer in skills, and also a visitor. Galdius had finally succumbed to the call of like insane minds, and joined {CAT} hesitantly, but seemed to be settling in nicely. At one time, when Trik was a chaotic animal, {CAT} could claim to have had all four Shade Jesters within it's ranks. The lucky green clover irish jester, Gladius. The crystallized yellow diamond snow jester, Yelosnow. The jester of hearts, that all the ladies loved, or at least liked a really very muchly lot, Trik. Then the dark, almost black, and getting worse, but unspayed, spade cat jester. The pun was inevitable, I just had to get it over with, lol.
Trik had gone on to his own thing now, the {TrK} flag once again flew over Byrendell's watchtowers, and it was anyone's guess why, as much as it was also nobody's business how and what, where and who also for that matter. Some seemed overjoyed that void that {Trk} created, was once again filled with it's customary piece to that puzzle. Others seemed overjoyed that {CAT} seemed weakened or in straits now that the most logical among us had left. Trying to cheer the suffering they percieved. Wrong, dead wrong. Trik was the Conscience of the tribe, not the Consciousness, and this wuold prove self evident soon enough.
BaRnOwL smacked a gavel onto a pulpit, banged a gong, rang cathedral bells and belched loudly to call the meeting to attention. The dark figure behind him shuffled his feet, eyes glowing with malice and mischief. "Thank you all for breaking your ranged magical huntfights to appear here for this grandiose announcement!" He cleared his throat, turned shakily and slowly removed the helm from he who stood behind him.
A great weight of old coins, tasty meats and breads and winesacks fell to the floor from the helm, and then from the armor as it fell spilling more prized goodies. The clan as one dove into the pile, hands claws and talons open clawlike, mouths opened, eyes glazed but bright with glee. BaRnOwL nearly fell backward laughing when Felinara scowled eyes aflickering twin green flames.
But the party did commence smoothly afterwards, the chatter and laughter from within could be heard all the way up on the rooftop, where the gargoyles and undead catdrgns sat, bathing in cool tingling moonlight. This phase of undead wasn't as cosmetically displeasing as previous deincarnations, he seemed more spectral than cadaverous. As solid as any bog wraith.
BaRnOwL was soon flitting up to join him, his beak stained a ruby red with rich wine, head stuck in a half rotation, 180 degrees. "Shup bossh, festivitiesh're goin on down there, ya should really should gowon and join themz!" The newly dead CaTjus8u had been out reacquainting himself with undeathly fast speeds and a wholly unholy power.
"Live the Chaos, in this you find your own order. Nature's order, it seems Chaotic to those outside of it. The Animals know this, it's the sum of their existence, as their senses tell their souls what their life is like. We are a Tribe, a family? A Species! What you see before you now, this ghast wearing my form, is the Cat only. speed, strength ferocity. But Chaos has promised me a power unlike any I've ever experienced, as Mortal, as Undead, even my brief stint as Slayer! For when I Lich, if I have the focus, determination, and unlive to get to it, I shall become the Dragon! The forces of magic and mana will be mine to wield as easily as any rogue's dagger or ranger's staves."
BaRnOwL shrugged, burped "Show whazhit meansh fur now?" Cat stared down, on the owl as he stood, cranking up the scary factor. "It means it's time to get chaotic in a way we've never been chaotic before, but somehow have been destined for all along. We're wild cards, OwL, unknown elements. The X factor. Let them try to solve us, our secrets are our own. Let them try to intimidate us, impress us, depress us and second guess us. It matters nowt."
"Sho whatcher sayin ish ya want me to go into your room and get your thinking cigars and your reflective wine, right?" A nod answers, and BaRnOwL flew down to retrieve these supplies. The night was young, but ageless, eternal, the moonlight showered the landscape in a glazing silver aura, like the snow that ghosts would see in their dimension. Ghosts, wraiths.
...
Something was wrong, why was he now wraithlike? Why were Wraiths Solid? What IS Life and Living excatly? Is all that we know or knew as existence not correct? Philosophically this thought appealed like a longlasting meal, realistically it spelled out implications that could affect All of Shade, whatever Shade really was excatly, did anyone really know?
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Mouse
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Posts: 143
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Post by Mouse on Jul 2, 2006 10:30:40 GMT -7
A paradigm a dozen
You thought I left people out? Some members of the clan not mentioned? Close, I left them outside, and I'm gonna be mentioning them right soonly here, just keep your armoring on. I'm getting to it.
Our liege maximal, fearless leader, was left last seen pondering the truth of existence on the rooftop of The Cat and Dragon. {Yes that's not it's proper name, no I don't give a rat sass, deal with it} His eyes scanned the horizon, speckled with the forms of the creatures milling about below. And any clan members we left out previously, this is that time, come on out now.
Yelosnow arrives, of {SOC/CAT}, one old and recognized, the other newer and disputed, and he being as he be. "Alright, okay, you rang?" Yelo huffed his way up to the roof, he was no longer undead and had lost some spryness to regaining a pulse, but he was still as ever recognizable in his yellow mohawk and numerous gold chains and feathers. "Whatchoo talkin about, foo?"
CaT turned, and smiled, and we'll also allow Yelo to return to however he normally looks to your mind's eye and try to forget that absurd visage, or keep it, it looks good on him! "Yes, c'mon here, have a seat. I've been doing some thinking and I'm not so sure that's a good thing. You ever get the feeling that something is something we'renot meant to know, but are supposed to take into account anyway?"
Yelo fighting with sitting crosslegged fell backwards and nearly rolled off the roof but for a lightning quick grab as then he nearly hung from his backpack straps. The backpack was squirming too.
"Thanks man, that was a close deal, alright, I'm situated, you were saying?"
CaTjus8u sniffed. "Is that Bacon in your backpack?"
"Lmao, worse, it's Haggis!" He unzipped his pack and dropped the item we now know as Haggis. Haggis isn't so much an item as he is a menace, but we'll overlook that in favor of casting him in a more affable role or something. Haggis shook off dust and mold and grinned from earhole to earhole. "Wharzhap?"
"Haggis, sit." Yelo commanded, and Haggis followed through, still smiling.
CaT continued "As I was saying, I was doing some thinking and I wanna run some stuff by you and tell me what you think, if Haggis doesn't mind being a volunteer?" Haggis nodded, after Yelo grabbed both sides of his skull and nodded his head for him in compelled agreement. CaT stood up and grabbed Haggis by the ankles and dangled him off the roof hanging several feet above the ground. "Okay, Haggis, look out there and tell us what you see."
"Seewraifs Seeshrees, wraifs an freesh."
"Okay good, thats what I thought too, now I'm going to change your point of view." CaT flipped Haggis up in the air and caught him by the scruff of his neck. "What do you see now?"
"Hrrrmm shill wraifs an shreeez, buh nowhna wraifs ah shreez an shreees erh wraifs?"
"Very perceptive! You see what I'm getting at Yelo?"
"Uh, not really following ya, but it is funny seeing Haggis being dangled like that, lol."
CaT snickered wheezingly, and leapt off the roof followed by Haggis, but Yelo opted to climb down instead. "Okay Haggis, stiffen yourself up like an old corpse or a steelwood staff." Haggis straightened up from head to toe with a few audible pops creaks and other stuff that might be painful to someone who was living. CaT swept him up by the ankles, and took a few test swings of his new improvised "Zombie Berserker Staff".
Yelo finally made it down from the wall and walked over "Oh goodie, more abuse, did I miss anything?" <<WHAMP!>> Yelosnow was knocked over by a swung Haggis. "Now, this is solid to us." CaT explained.
"No Shmoo, why'd ya do that?!"
"Sholidh!" Haggis exclaimed.
CaT swung at a Bog Wraith with Haggis saying wraif wraif with each impact until the wraif, erh, wraith was dead. Then he pantomimed and made a big production of walking up to a nearby tree, got into a batters stance and SWUNG!
Haggis passed harmlessly through! His teeth were clenched and gritted, eyes closed, but he noticed the impact he was expecting "Hwowhn!"
"This is what I was getting at," said the CaT looking over the landscape with a glint in his eyes of some sort of distrust, or caution. "that all might not be as it appears to be! All that we've taken for granted was just waiting for us to wake up and notice it, Grimms Final Messages may yet hold some meaning after all."
Haggis took a swipe at a tree, then suckerpunched a bog wraith, which Yelo and CaT ended up having to kill before poor Haggis was lifedrained to nothing.
"This brings to mind a couple of rhymes I've read somewhere before." Yelo smiled, as something dawned on him. "I think it went like 'He beats his fists against the post and still insists he sees no ghost' or something like that."
"Or else this" CaT cleared his throat and furrowed his brow in recollection "Ah, in all things there exists, a dual nature, evinced in matter and light, in solid and... Shade! Yelo, everything here solid Is shade. The ground we walk on is Shade, we are shades, the creatures we kill are shades, the rest is solid, hence why we cannot affect it!"
"Whoa."
"Shnngwoarh."
"Whoa and whoa indeed, whoa it be to he, as in me, who's been thinking along these lines all of last night. You ever think that like death being limbo, that what we thought of as life is some form of afterlife, or altered life? Limbo also means where souls await final judgement on worthiness for heaven or hell or whatever else other names they go by. Just another plane of existence, not the life we assumed it to be?"
"I'm thinkinnng" Yelo smiled, shaking his head "I'm thinking you need to get some kinda rest, your body's still adjusting to undeath and if ya aint careful thinking too much like this you're setting yourself up for a breakdown. You can borrow my old coffin for the night, I don't need it anymore, and Haggis sleeps underground."
Yelo and Haggis then walked back inside, Haggis excitedly relaying to Yelo the magnitude of shreez, wraifs and clanh leanderh the shmardh cadt.
CaTjus8u, with 4 more days to go under that name, mercifully, crawled and leapt up to the rooftop. He should really take that advice and rest up a bit, but there was still that huge large encompassing bit of new thought to grapple with, what if this was really that, what was everything else, and did it all now follow the new or rediscovered "Law of Being"? And then, without closure or any kind of finalizing thought to conclude it all with, he was eventually asleep, dreaming lives, living dreams.
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Mouse
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Posts: 143
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Post by Mouse on Jul 3, 2006 19:39:31 GMT -7
Shade-inger's Cat? UndeadBossCat, BaRnOwL here, I was meditating on the Interdimensional Network Plane and found a poem there that eerily and humorously echoed you and your current state somewhat. Better show than said I guess, it's a long one, so recline on the couch, decline to stand, a cigar in your mouth a glass of wine in your hand, and heeerre we GO!:
quote: -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The story of Schroedinger's cat (an epic poem) 07-May-1982
Dear Cecil: Cecil, you're my final hope Of finding out the true Straight Dope For I have been reading of Schroedinger's cat But none of my cats are at all like that. This unusual animal (so it is said) Is simultaneously live and dead! What I don't understand is just why he Can't be one or other, unquestionably. My future now hangs in between eigenstates. In one I'm enlightened, the other I ain't. If you understand, Cecil, then show me the way And rescue my psyche from quantum decay. But if this queer thing has perplexed even you, Then I will and won't see you in Schroedinger's zoo. --Randy F., Chicago
Dear Randy: Schroedinger, Erwin! Professor of physics! Wrote daring equations! Confounded his critics! (Not bad, eh? Don't worry. This part of the verse Starts off pretty good, but it gets a lot worse.) Win saw that the theory that Newton'd invented By Einstein's discov'ries had been badly dented. What now? wailed his colleagues. Said Erwin, "Don't panic, No grease monkey I, but a quantum mechanic. Consider electrons. Now, these teeny articles Are sometimes like waves, and then sometimes like particles. If that's not confusing, the nuclear dance Of electrons and suchlike is governed by chance! No sweat, though--my theory permits us to judge Where some of 'em is and the rest of 'em was." Not everyone bought this. It threatened to wreck The comforting linkage of cause and effect. E'en Einstein had doubts, and so Schroedinger tried To tell him what quantum mechanics implied. Said Win to Al, "Brother, suppose we've a cat, And inside a tube we have put that cat at-- Along with a solitaire deck and some Fritos, A bottle of Night Train, a couple mosquitoes (Or something else rhyming) and, oh, if you got 'em, One vial prussic acid, one decaying ottom Or atom--whatever--but when it emits, A trigger device blasts the vial into bits Which snuffs our poor kitty. The odds of this crime Are 50 to 50 per hour each time. The cylinder's sealed. The hour's passed away. Is Our pussy still purring--or pushing up daisies? Now, you'd say the cat either lives or it don't But quantum mechanics is stubborn and won't. Statistically speaking, the cat (goes the joke), Is half a cat breathing and half a cat croaked. To some this may seem a ridiculous split, But quantum mechanics must answer, "Tough @#&! We may not know much, but one thing's fo' sho': There's things in the cosmos that we cannot know. Shine light on electrons--you'll cause them to swerve. The act of observing disturbs the observed-- Which ruins your test. But then if there's no testing To see if a particle's moving or resting Why try to conjecture? Pure useless endeavor! We know probability--certainty, never.' The effect of this notion? I very much fear 'Twill make doubtful all things that were formerly clear. Till soon the cat doctors will say in reports, "We've just flipped a coin and we've learned he's a corpse."' So saith Herr Erwin. Quoth Albert, "You're nuts. God doesn't play dice with the universe, putz. I'll prove it!" he said, and the Lord knows he tried-- In vain--until fin'ly he more or less died. Win spoke at the funeral: "Listen, dear friends, Sweet Al was my buddy. I must make amends. Though he doubted my theory, I'll say of this saint: Ten-to-one he's in heaven--but five bucks says he ain't." --CECIL ADAMS
Respectfully from The Straight Dope / Cecil Adams --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
So, you see here the rich unknown ancient newly discovered tradition of the Living Dead Undead Cat is a commonality that really stands out here and other places. I would also advise the random reader to not be trying this at home, it's a CFS thing, but some people do require the extra little advisory, lol. Hope this clears things up fur ya boss, if not at least an amusing confusion to savor for awhile.
~BaRnOwL, {CAT} Bard, Herald, requisitions, armory, accuonting, overworked, underpaid, chatmonger.
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Mouse
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Post by Mouse on Jul 3, 2006 19:42:50 GMT -7
{Aherm!} "Know ye that.. whoops italics, lol, brb!" "|?" SMACK! "/!" bing! "There we go, alright, let's see here. ...shuffles some papers around... Ah yes, Know ye that, ok we covered that part, blablablah. In the Beginning CAT Clan was unknown, we dwelt in a world most of Shade hasn't seen, a Realm called Middle Earth. It started with the first saved up 1000 gold we could find.
1000 gold, start a clan, start today, easy one step process, start now. Tag friends, and Battle other people! Well, we didn't know many other people there and alot of the tags at that tender new age of our's seemed hostile, edgy, a bit much to jump into just yet. We never asked to join someone's clan yet either, we waited. Patiently in the shadows, the darkness of cluelessness and inexperience, we waited.
After mastering movement, yes, walking and swinging a sword, directions to doing this, and discovering our ages old friend, Again! Saved us numerous repetitive Norths and Attack Wests. Should have seen the first days of Run, oh fleet footed townhopping mile eating constantly fatiguing run run run, what fun. From Moon to Sun, we'd run.
We sat in the pub at Bree, we meaning I quite alot of the time, but with us it was me and fellow newbies, freshfaced singledigit experienced little unknown nobodies, full of questions and vacuous of perspective. We had talks then that make me chuckle now at the topics naive young warriors blunder hazardously through.
©øðdamn pkillers, one would say, so and so killed me and stole my gear! I listened intently, tensing, people could kill other people here and steal that which we wore and fought with? But first I asked what the hell a pkiller WAS! It sounded a bit obscene or crass whatever the killer of P could be. Overimaginative then and now. So we sat and discussed pkillers.
Something that to this day, between you and me fair reader, you can never train for ahead of time. Knowing what Not to say, laying low, learning in silence and using every bit of information for yourself and what you could spare for others. Unprepared we were for a pkiller to enter the pub at Bree, lords of shadow he seemed massive, the users of this pub I'd never seen dressed so blackly! {immediately brought to mind a humanoid stealth jet}
This was when the best armors you cuold buy and hunt for were glazed platemail, elven steel {luminous or brilliant blue steel probably the equivalent of your steeljade or sapphire in Shade} and the only recently added black steels of the Nightshade and Assassin attire. { Back t my wannabe old codger rant: I subsisted there for a year plus on glazed plate, burly longswords, warriors helms, spiked iron shields elf shortswords, steelwood and elven bows. I didnt exist in preseal pre rak Shade, but I can pretty nearly imagine that} Getting to the point this was a tough customer, not someone to mess with right off, and yet, here we were, for some odd reason we were explicably provoking him.
Pkillers don't like being talked about, wink wink nudge nudge, lol, and this one was nooo exception, he raged into the room like a being of angry flame saying in badly spelled language WAT U LITL PUNKZ TALKN BOUT? YA WANT SUM MO O DAT I GAV LIL DUM___ OVA DERE? Now I tell you, I bristled, I instantly disliked this loud bellowing buffoon right at the words of him.
Some of us spoke out, we protested, and were ordered outside and slaughtered, our bare limbo spawned bodies tossed back into the room like discarded dogmeat. This was ridiculous, how could anyone function in this world when the first clumsy steps outside sent us directly to ressurects? I never knew what Feedback was for, and even after was taught by the pkillers it was a despicable thing to utilize and was more abhorrent than pkilling itself.
So, I never used it, to this day still refuse to, but really don't need to as much anymore, at the level and experience an savoire mmwrpg faire I am at now it'd seem pretty childish. At least to how far I've developed my character now as opposed to those then. But here we are, and the time came to switch towns, move on, leave, but when?
This my readers legion that ye be in readership cause I'm just that damn good of a writer, is when you begin to learn to survive, each new bit of knowledge giving you a sense of sheer thrill, an edge over the herd, a step ahead of the predators. You begin to feel real slick, and deceptive. Sure each misstep was fatal and a hardknock school lesson to the brain, but you learned, and you evolved.
You lost experience points, but your brains, your real brain, the one that governs the fate and choices your life in Shade and other places takes, grew smarter, and a bit more durable. Those who didn't toughen up and tough it out faded, quit, fled in tears. We sympathized, but we rejoiced in relief they left for a place more ideal to them.
Fates willing we should all find such a place, jk, lol, I'm here, if not damn close to where I should be.
I'm losing myself in allegory and alligators here, but back to the point, ... ok Messaging, ok, good, talk to people, some answer, some don't, and yes I WAS too damn cool to have been doing that blasted ASL nonsense some of you youngsters and young at heart have ever been up to. I wasn't there to Hook Up, it was far more fun to be a character amongst other colorful characters. I dont need to know your real name, you don't need to know mine. {You probably can if you need to, but it's mostly unimportant}
{What's cooler? Being the CatDrgN? Or being ordinary everyday boring real life Hugh Jackman that I am, the answer is simple, I'm not really hugh jackman, I'm Dennis Hopper, DUH!}
But ok, messaging, lol wow I'm getting impatient for myself to get to the bloody point sometime before the next shade update. In the Messaging you can see who's online! You memorized Names, and if Names changed you memorized what they were Wearing, and if that also changed, which it very well can do just that exact thing?
Three simple letters, numbers, symbols.
Three simple letters that mean nothing and everything, a ball of mud or an entire world. A Reason for Being, or just being for any old reason. By now I knew I could have one of my very own! Some of these three letter tags, clans, they were huge! From ten to 50 members, I wanted that too! But what three letters. That answer was way too easy, from way back then, to this very day. It took a break from me so I could experience other clans, but it never left me.
{CAT}
...takes a gulp of coffee from one cup and wine from another, then wondering how he could have been so absentminded that he left both half-filled!...
Yes, about three years ago, in a whole other world, the first CAT Clan was borne, and now you know, as a member of this tribe, wearer of the tag, repurrsentative of the species, its and your own. And it was then I joined my first new member, me, and for weeks on back then, my first last and only member was me, lol!
CAT Reappeared in various forms throughout the years {The ThunderCats of Middle Earth, Cellphone Adventure Team, Realm Of The Claw and some other lame showy stuff}, even as different letters the concept stayed the same. The claws grew a bit bigger, the vision a bit darker, making alot of the rest of things look brighter actually, more promising. From the small running fearful barncats to the larger louder and probably sometimes over the top Catdrgns, CAT Clans evolved.
I look at this current roster, as of this date ten, and later maybe lesser maybe more, but I see it as the ultimate culmination of all I learned of and from clans, from and about myself, that little bit of information become a living philosophy I taught myself and shared with some others, some fellow characters in a fantastic world we adventure in. There's always a bigger beast out there to be prey to, but there's always prey to predate upon. Symbiosis and the food chain, etc.
It's a Jungle out there, but it's a good one to be a Chaotic Animal Tribe in.
{Coffee and Red Wine, well that explains all this.}
Let's conclude this one here, while I'm still only moderately behind, mostly awake, merely halflidded, and mildly entertaining."
To
be
Catinued.
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Mouse
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Posts: 143
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Post by Mouse on Nov 12, 2006 1:08:02 GMT -7
A quite literally Midsummer Night's Dream! It could have been all the red wine last night, deceptively watery, no matter how many living things I had to rip and wring out for each goblet. It could be that I got mysteries on the brain, playing out over and over in tired and incomplete loops, buzzing past til the eyes are glazed and the brains are porridge.
I suppose I'll start from what earliest visual I can remember. The swamp, at Dawn, and a crypt entrance smaller than the one we now know. (O) It's entry smaller and slightly to the left of center, given the ripples diameter, whatever. (o ) BaRnOwL it was, out there. Sure it was probably unsafe for his small level of endurance to try, at least alone. CatDrgN, me, soon joined him.
We went in together, sure enough the chamber was all ragged and rubbly of wall and I thought we were back in the normal known crypt, until I stopped and squinted and saw the differences in placements, dimensions and that we were surrounded by Drooling Fiends, slime gleaming off their bluish green hides from the torchlight.
Now some have referred to me as a prophet, and prophecies often happen in dreams, but the label seems lately offered sarcastically, and I distrust about everyone, even myself, even my dreams. But sometimes you just have to write something up before it fades totally from memory just in case, because in this dream we went further on in!
We explored! When you find a new area, damn the safety go as far as you can so you Can be the First! Exploration death is THE MOST NOBLE Sacrifice I can think of. I was probably gonna be just fine, but the OwL? Ah well, lmao. We battled past the Droolin Fiends, the OwL casting Fireball and weakly swinging an ebony blade, and me yeah kickin arse as usual.
The next level down can only be described as Beautiful, beautiful in the way only a new discovery could be, no matter how distinctly Unbeautiful it truly was. The floor was dotted with swamp and lava and paths and some other stuff couldn't identify, didn't give it a look either, because soon we were set upon! Just east of us came a beetle-like thing the size of eight men, or two towns!
It attacked us both simultaneously with Spiralling Firespit, fireballs whizzing everywhere in fast coils and waves from it's huuuge mandibles.
OwL nearly bit it but he ran and hid behind me healing himself then healing me as I unloaded full speed on this new huge creature. Despite it's size it died in three hits! But it didn't really die, It couldn't have, but here it was, and it dropped Nothing.
We proceeded on, hearts racing, minds fogged but sharpened with adrenaline.
Probably explains the weirdness we encountered next. Ladder Down. You know that Zombie Kingimawhatsit you hear in the rumours? He made his appearance here.
"Insipid mortal scums! Shams of pale copies of True Undeath! You think Chaos invented Undeads? I was here since LONG BEFORE Grimm invited Chaos to these lands." He bellowed, his crown shaking scrapingly on his bony head, claws flexing at his sides, eager for battle. "Why now have the minions of light and dark have finally intruded upon my quiet chambers?"
"Cat? He's uh pretty ticked, let's port outta here and call it good huh?"
"Not a chance, but this one, this one's our's. Now fireball him or I'll kill you after I've killed him!"
"Like Doih you Can't kill me, you're an advanced player and therefore cannot--"
"Shut. Up. I'll kill you Before I kill him them, by letting him kill you first, try to conceptualize the scheme there."
"Do you two upworld fleshbags want to continue jawing eachother or do we allow me to Demonstrate why Nobody trespasses my domain? What? Nooo.. Hurrrggh HrrRRROOOAAAWWRRH! KILL!"
We took too long thinking, this was bad, it was Dusk.
And where the King once stood was what we would deduce now to be known later as.. a Night Stalker! His armor was smooth, plated, almost organic, like the shells of insects and the scales of dragons.
His helm was wedged, triangular, black with purple browplates and rubyred eyeports almost on each Side of the faceguard lizardlike reptilian, ebony and obsidian..
This was what a full set of Stalker equipment was like, omg, and how I wanted to kill this guy and wear this Stalker Helm to chat, not saying anything, just silently smug until the first person noticed something different. Who knew what powers and abilities it increased. And we'd never find out if we stood still theorizing while HE CHARGED at a run, ebony blades jutting out from it's fingertips, it attacked diagonally too I think unless my refresh was slow, lol.
I slammed my fist into the wall next to my bed reflexively striking out at the Night Stalker, but effectively waking myself up, it still felt real enough I wanted to get a good look at myself. Was I in Limbo wrapped up tightly in Sending))))Shrouds? Was I wearing this all this new gear? How did I look what was the item descriptions? What stats went up?
Reality hits like a heavy dank grey miserable something. Because That was Just a Dream, just a dream, just a dream, dream. Part of me thinks I'm now hot on the trail of something new, as if I'd gotten a hot off the brains Hint from Grimm Himself! But Grimm was no longer giving hints, Grimm was no longer among us, that we knew of at any rate.
I fell back onto the cushions of my coffinlike bed, in room 667, just to the left of evil btw lol, and made plans to hell... follow Up on this find! I wanted to go back into that throneroom! Sans the liability BaRnOwL of course. {Edibard: thanks boss, ß箜 you...} {Jesterdit: LoL! Sorry OwL but it's true, you were no good in there!} And so I planned, to ride the no horse of hope, the nonexistant ship of faith, on the route of imagination, in the world of creativity, to the remote wildlands of newfound discoveries and feeling completely at home doing so.
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Mouse
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Post by Mouse on Nov 12, 2006 1:09:48 GMT -7
{CAT} Clan War Journal? Lmfgdao, but seriously I guess there could be stuff said here. This is only if they've taken to hiring mercenaries, much more experienced, but equally depraved warriors then they. Though the enemy of your enemy is not always a very good ally they don't seem to be that picky! Guess when the eventual backstabbings do happen, Again, they'll still be surprised.
Not often have we had such unworthy, but yet still quite deserving enemies, let's clarify the terms though. As we see them. What seems like eons ago, a Grimm Intervention had to happen. The clean orderly win to loss war the humans could have fought was marred by numerous foul and outright disgusting displays of infuriating inflaming exhibitions of deplorable behavior unbefitting any warrior born.
Many among us think that this latest spurt of guck was spurred on by the absence of Grimm from Shade, encouraging the masses on to further and more fearless acts of aggression and aggravation. This isn't to point a finger at either side, well it is, but let's not verify which side by piping in foolishly revealing who and why. It's a story, read it quietly maybe liking it or walk away fuming.
Wars have been fought before without nearly so many forcable banishments. Grimm and Chaos were sportsmanlike in knowing that Shade would be a form of Chess or other Risky board game, they built this reality in this way. Not just Only in this way, but this way prevailed when it seemed there was nothing better to do or a more worthwhile way.
The poison in closest reach is still within close reach, and like the fruit of temptation hisses to be picked, no matter the consequences. The Gate had stood for so long a time, impassable and impossible that only a few dedicated tireless groupings still determined to open it persisted. The Displacer Demon through it all laughed.
Now while the Gate and the Demon were surely noble goals it seemed this small determined group was very exclusive, denying themselves help before even they themselves could offer it, whether they realized it or not. Some did, and those some alone will still fail. Not through any faulting of lack of skill or drive, but by numbers, sheer numbers, the lack thereof.
Alot of confidence in Self and not alot in Others, and the constant reminders we get to receive of this on a nigh daily basis have pretty much left alot of us to have left alot of them to their own devices. This is not to say the inclusivity of the elite and focussed GateCrashers has forced the rest of us to war. This is to say the war works to remove yet other obstacles to the evolution of Shade, Eachother.
We have seen the Enemy and It is smelly. Opinions ride high like tall stacked manure, repulsive and attracting flies. The flies, what would the flies be? Who? Who cares. Those attracted to feasting on this vile base substance for their sick sustenance.
Many of you are still too young in the land of Shade to remember the events that influence us even to now. Those of us who do remember, still carry the burning embers of rememberance, the wrongs still needing righted, because the righteous are still wrong, and some apparent wrongs are relied on to set things right, {Jesterdit: ?~tw?tch~?wtf?}, or whatever, lol.
At the first time I'd ever seen this I was a cautious detached neutral, though neutral wasn't accepted as an actual alignment, it nonetheless Was. Maybe still Is, and Zanden's Blessing to those who still carry the grey torch of neutrality. Those were comfortable times, tense, but distanced. But even as Neutral we began to see something seriously seriously wrong with the big picture.
These are interesting times, when the brightness can seem as murky night, yet the darkness illuminates the way. Friends are made, enemies are assumed, sides choose and are chosen. Neutrality is tuggawarred and eventually the side with the most strength of character and sincerity wins. We lived in those interesting times.
Still would be nice at times to be totally sure that 100% of the side you're on is 100% on your side, but til then yes we are still quite capable of distance, detachment, and decision, discernment. Some other D words, but blah, who cares about them. Helps that the sides are still mostly clear on who and what they'll accept onto their... Side.
You can reject what you will, and risk weakening your cause in the name of ideals, or you can accept any old thing, lumps and all, and risk nothing but enhancement. Whether you're fighting a war, or a displacer demon, what you accept in will only help more than what you reject out, given you choose wisely. No guarantees though, you could recruit a real albatross or a unknown and valued asset.
These things in time become clearer. What we know for now is we each are Shading for what we believe in, and more power to us. Game On! Our most deserving targets, the obstacles to what we see as blocking up the machinery of Shade, the ecosystem of a perfect machine? Or just the walls set forth by other things and people obstructing what is only our own perfect vision for the world?
Maybe that's too much thinking, maybe just doing is enough, for action is ultimately what gets things done, action is doing. Thinking is Planning on doing. Did'nt help that some things decided they needed us doing them as well, but this was their decision, we are only the consequences, part of having chaos itself in your nature. Agents of Karma if nothing else, though any connection to that one of the new three ruling figures of Shade remains to be seen, when they themselves show it.
We're not saying what we're doing is right, well not right as in correct maybe, but Just. Right is the belief in something that leads you to living in what is best for you, Just is the act of trying to retain this. Scourges plague the land true, and many even myself have varying opinions on what Exactly these may be, but when enough of us agree on one species of vermin to exterminate, Nature Itself help the object of that detection.
This is where things stand, or how things appear to be standing enow from the eyes of those in a tribe of chaotic animals that to this day will never truly understand these silly humans and their deceptive consensual illusion they call civilization. Pppfffhttt, sigh, lmao... Game On!
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Post by Mouse on Nov 12, 2006 1:10:31 GMT -7
Venting Exhaust "Killkillkillkill, Killkillkillkill, Killkillkillkill, Killkillkillkill, Gods you Bore me!" growled SmiLodOn as he slammed some braggarts face into his beermug, effectively shattering both "shut up and kill then, damn your blathering hide." SmiLodOn had once again about had his fill of Byrendell, between the raving paranoid repeatedly offensive on the defensive to the braindrilling monotony of S.S.D.D. it was time once again to take it to the fields.
It wasn't that he couldn't keep company, it was the company they keep, why some of those he saw as some of the most admirable steadfast and capable warriors in Shade would surround themselves in homicidal savaunts was beyond him. Humans, while some of his best friends were humans, he would never truly understand humans.
A bug eyed lunatic raved in the corner of the pub, blood and bits of leather armor dangling from his sword and teeth. Elsewhere a heavily made up overweight bearded lady snuggled up to a blissfully unaware young warrior deeply in love and intoxicated. A silent few sat watching in refreshing silence as a study in the gutter scrapings of society acted itself out in the pub.
"Hey all! I got a full set of Sorc Nimble, Divine and Plat for sale fr 500 k!" SmiLodOn groaned, yay, someone else who for whatever reason didn't know there was an Auction House. {Sure it went down a bit here and there lately, but hey, the general economy could withstand a burp and hiccup here and there!} Young warriors wear armor they kept falling into the boots of, weilding weapons that squashed them when they overbalanced and fell on them, and a week ago some poor little squirt cast TwistOfFate on the very first star he saw that night and we haven't seen the kid since.
Byrendell used to be a kinda fun place, and at times it could still be as much or moreso, but not tonight. Dregs, derelicts and deranged drunkards layered the floor like bodies on the battlefield. Let the BaRnOwL weather this place, exp isn't gained sitting watching the mere concept of civilization melt away like tallow. CatDrgN was a level 14 SmiLodOn, and there was no pointing in stopping and resting there. Onwards and Upwards, there was a Character and a World to advance.
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Post by Mouse on Nov 12, 2006 1:11:26 GMT -7
Vaya con Dios, Trik Grande.
quote: -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Originally posted by CatDrgN Jest don't Trik me!
From the earliest beginnings of Shade, near as I can tell, this Trik has trode the mindscape. From at least a much earlier time than mine own at least, he's been in on the world of Shade. His mind was as nimble as his gear, his wit sharp as his Demon Screamer. He Shaded His way and that was what made him a prime Beastwarrior, a Clanimal of {CAT}.
Trik was at his confunnsingest tonight, his puns flew rapid fire like a stream of dragon's breath. He was decked out in full clown and jester regalia and attire. Surrounded in Balloon animals, carved pumpkins, balloon pumpkins, carved animals and the rare extremely difficult carved balloon pumpkanimal. Absurd or Impossible weren't words defined in Trik's world.
The shelves of the Shops at the Boar and Skewer laid unattended with goods exceeded only by those sold by the Elf King north of Thunderdome ever since it was discovered you could get there or anywhere else simply by benefit of the Teleport Token. Many have sought after all these goodsand golds, but have found none, yet. Were they eeeven looking? I Think Not Hard Enough.
I don't, I really don't think hard enough, he boggles me too at times, you gotta wake up pretty early on the weird side of the stool to keep up with his mindset at times. 360 channels mindset, cable and satellite and enraged rabbit ear antenna. With a mind on par with some of Shade's top strategists and tacticians, maybe having already figured it all out already, just keeping mum on he subject.
He's living the dream, doing what he's always wanted to do, being what he wants to be, and nothing in Shade can steer him from it. Nothing in the universe could possibly change all that. You gotta admire that in a man, or a clown, a jester or a warrior. He's as merciless afield as he is affront, uh, afore, hmmm, intown. Stand back from his splash and splattering, lay low when he's slashingly chattering.
As the crowd thins out, he lets out a huuuge yawn, not the player, a verb, we've done the yaWn gig to bits already, leave it be, lol. He lets out a large mouth opening sleepy noise and gets up slowly, dusting off his costume from all the confetti and carved baloon pumpkanimal fragments.
Despite his huge size, strength, levels of experience and other obseqious commentary I can add here, he's a humble Shader, not making a big deal of it. He was among the best of the best clans, the best leader that {Trk} had ever seen, and now acted as advisor in {CAT} though we chaotic clanimals rarely seek advice on matters before acting on them excepting matters of diplomacy and other boring civilities.
He was already out the door before anyone could answer his goodnight. To roads unseen by awakened eyes, he walked the rainbow bridge through upsidedown caves in the clouds where moons were more numerous than stars and comets slowed down to enjoy the strange scenery scenery. Both hot Ice and Wondrous strange snow glitered on the floors and ceiling. The steelwood hinges of his doorway creaked open, then the door too itself opened. The powerful, but peaceful omnivore clanimal of {CAT}, Trik, was finally, after so short a time, back home again. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
By my eyes, and you may know me, but introductions happen at the end, for now you just read. A lone golden bell ringled on the pub floor at the tip of a toe kick from a CATDrgN, bringing me back some great fun memories. Trik was now one of many great fun memories, still recent but still absent. Trik had taken the cat in on the good word of a friend, to Trk clan, and thus began an unforgetable journey that wuold have them both possibly forever changed.
Later at a time when all seemed at one of it's most desolates, Trk merged with ZZZ into EGO Clan led by the shapeshifting yaWn and those seemed as glory days. Excepting that people now assumed this neutral at heart warrior to now serve Chaos, he always stayed grounded firmly in who he was and what he was about. Some of the Trksters got a little darker, but Trik pretty much kept as he was.
There was either very little to no change or no change needed, and then when it came time EGO moved on into the COC Clan you know today, or at least as if this date as Chaos is an ever changing constant as are many of his followers. CATDrgN's odd instincts led him to combine both visions, of old Trk class and distance to EGO's assuredly dark posivity, and the concept itself went feral.
{CAT} Clan was formed, and week by week more and more joined on in, it seemed like a good idea, that is until Trik joined, Then it became a Great idea! For as Trik joined, the figure the 'Cat saw as the epitome of well thought out deliberation becoming a CAT solidified the 'Cats faith in their clan as a working concept, and so it was.
But, that ever changing chaotic mercurial nature of things as they are saw Trik split off back to his roots in rebuilding a new Trk clan, The royal Knights. We all never totally understood it at first, but the picture became clear as a two sided mirror. CAT, Trik, and Shade as all that is, sometimes compels change to adapt, evolve in mysterious ways.
The vultures overhead cackled away figuring it was CAT's fault Trik left, others thought Trik was better off on his own, but most of you knowing better stayed suitably confused. It was better to remain silent and be thought clueless than to speak up and remove all doubts of that, as became painfully clear by some who opened their mouths to spew their usual bile.
But this, at this point we're possibly seeing the end of Trik's journey in Shade. I say Possibly because I'm a hopeless optimist who assumes nobody ever leaves permanently, and in a way I'm right either way, for if he truly is forever gone to the land of Shade, a part of him will eternally reside. I can now only hope he truly has found his ideal home in that dimension unique to him, that mysterious place he leaves us all to retire to. Finally I leave this in CAT Clan's pm box hoping the CATDrgN will post this for me...
...because wouldn't be the funniest trick to let anyone in on knowing all this was writ by one of those fabled thieving kenders you all thought didn't really exist?!? Haaaa Ah, got ya there, now pay up, and all in currency of Teleport Tokens. The ones dropped only by Elf King north of Thunder Dome! Cash money gold, you know by now where to find me. Right? Well get to looking!
Signed, Mr. Rektian O'Snicklefritz
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Mouse
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Post by Mouse on Nov 12, 2006 1:12:42 GMT -7
And the 'Cat came back the very next day.
quote: -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- And the Cat Came Back
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
"And the cat came back" (also known as "The cat came back") is a popular children's song, written by Harry S. Miller, in 1893.
The story is a comedy, telling a silly tale about a man who had a cat that he didn't want, and when he tried to get rid of the cat, the cat kept coming back.
It was also used as the basis for the 1988 short animated film The Cat Came Back by Cordell Barker.
now OLD mr. JOHNson had some TROUBLES of his OWN, he HAD a yellow CAT that just WOULDN'T leave his HOME, he TRIED and he TRIED to GIVE the cat AWAY, he GAVE it to a MAN going FAR far AWAY. but the CAT came BACK the VERY next DAY, the CAT came BACK, we THOUGHT he was a GONER, the CAT came BACK, he JUST wouldn't STAY aWAY.
The man around the corner said he'd shoot the cat on sight, he loaded up his shotgun with nails and dynamite, he waited and he waited for the cat to come around, but 97 pieces of the man is all they found.
He gave it to a man going up in a balloon, he said for to give it to the man in the moon, the balloon came down about 90 miles away, where the man is now, I dare not say.
He gave it to a man going way out west, he said for to give it to the one he loved best, 'course the train hit the tracks and went off the rails, how he got away was an amazing tail.
But the cat came back, he didn't stay away
He was sitting on the porch the very next day.
The cat came back, he did not want to roam.
The very next day it was home sweet home.
He gave it to a man going way out West, Told him for to take it to the one he loved the best; First the train hit the curve, then it jumped the rail, Not a soul was left behind to tell the gruesome tale.
Away across the ocean they did send the cat at last, Vessel only out a day and making water fast; People all began to pray, the boat began to toss, A great big gust of wind came by and every soul was lost.
The cat was a possessor of a family of its own, With seven little kittens till there came a cyclone; Blew the houses all apart and tossed the cat around, The air was full of kittens, and not a one was ever found. The atom bomb fell just the other day, The H-Bomb fell in the very same way; Russia went, England went, and then the U.S.A.
The human race was finished without a chance to pray.
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but the CAT came BACK the VERY next DAY, the CAT came BACK, we THOUGHT he was a GONER, the CAT came BACK, he JUST wouldn't STAY aWAY.
Finally FINALLY Did the research on this tune, and... I like it! No, I've never heard it before, yes I see it in Chat alot, mostly upon entering the room, lol.
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Post by Mouse on Nov 12, 2006 1:13:45 GMT -7
BarnCat's post #666 Really should go here. The Highway to Hell www.cgshade.com/board/showthread.php?s=&threadid=3473 been traversed, and one of Shade's Final Frontiers has been seen. It was well worth the wait. There was something to be said for pacing your shadyplay, for wearing the crap gear, for lazy casual adventuring, for making your own adventures along the way. Savoring Shade like a fine meal. Sitting on the roof, tail swishing lazily over the front entrance only to freeze or pull up suddenly at the sight of anyone exiting or entering, the BarnCat was lazily owning the roof of Bal'Tor. He savored the moment of do go in yet, do I teleport back, nooo not just yet. Maybe I will maybe won't. It almost masked the scared flaming form that had minutes before fell off the level 8 - 9 ladder and hit the ground running. And oh fur cryin out quietly in a teaspoon, there were demon balors, lesser dragons, and what to his monochromatic eyes should appear, great immense dragons that looked like Brontosauruses or turkeys on platters, or some not yet heard of intervention called a Helly Copped Her? He didn't stop to make conversation, luckily they were slow and turned to chests of worthless Tor gear the minute he maniacally shrieked at them. Tossing the rockbeasts to the side with a sneer reserved for peasants and Elvis impressions He walked slowly east, the final room. Pillars to the north. Town to the east. And an odd shaped town at that. Like a huge X or H, he'd have to remember to put his rainbow glasses on to check what it looked like in Color. This was gonna be a fun place for awhile. Sit and listen to the Elderhunters how it's done. Check. Obey all known rules of Etiquete down here, Check. Grafitti the Chatrooms, CHECK! Shoot, hell with this writing, I got new territory to roam! Later. __________________
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Post by Mouse on Nov 12, 2006 1:16:09 GMT -7
New TerriTORy ZZizzlepop, another badly formed mana potion bottle shatters in his palms, glass splinters and mana puddles at his feet. Create one drink it, make two. Drink the two make four, drink the four and hope to make it to a full eight pack. Z! Popbang, another unstable loop glass swan of a pipey bottle. Moments later drop a pile and hope nobody notices there's only 7.5 sitting there.
A glowing mist issues from a Rock Beast and it pulled magnetically to the glowing maw of a soul devouring BarnCat, at the last 49 of his mana he yells and runs forward devine mace raised up high, a pounce and smash, then hammering away mercilessly with the intricately carved inscribed but highly durable mace, that when not in battle made a fun noisy rattle.
The mana had returned so a skip and a flip back and the soul devours began again, until the menacing mineral gave up and collapsed in on itself.
The Green Elder was Highly perplexed, this maniacal furface had just run up and whacked him in the face with his mace then hopped back to cast death cloud at him, acidic gas breath blew forth burning Barn's lungs and eyes and causing him to misfire his ball lightning casting, to zing harmlessly overhead the ducking and laughing Green Elder, and so it was a few runs south, walks west, coughing and gagging up gobbets of burning green grease from his lungs, then mercifully a teleport and a chuckle at himself in an empty pub safely back in 'Tor.
The Dracolich stepped hesitantly through into what was commonly known to be it's killing zone. Popwhoosing sounds behind the 'Cat caused him to look worriedly behind him to where potionchests were already vanishing!
Eeep, uh uhm.
Psyrus saw it too, her glowing eyes alight in surprise then iced over in calm cool collectedness. She didn't get to be a big {DOG} by fretting over chance and circumstance obviously.
Another {DOG}, ThikMama, now a lich of some considerable power was stationed at the opposite end. He found out how much Fireball can really do, 7 points, a spell he'd taken for granted back in his younger days, but now equipped in all of what he called his Artillery Spells the Fireballer DeathClouder Ball Lightninger lashed out at the Dracolich with missing fizzling and occasionally hitting. WHAMMM!! 52 points of his health blasted off him by SoulStorm Torrent, that miserable shambling stack of dragon bones hit like a train of carts rolling downhill onto him. Except that they'd be carts full of howling soul energies, for the sake of the visuals. He hopped down south, vocal coachings from Psyrus and the Thik one were for 99% of it, working out rather well. The 1%, ok at least 1% was the few times his running clumsily right into someone else running the opposite direction, and with roaring thunder the soulstorm torrents striking and cratering the earth around the dizzied ear ringing duo. But after awhile a kind of a pace could be read there, the 'Cat one for noting patterns in things, could guage what was on the undead dragon's mind almost 60% of the time, excepting sudden shift surprise blastings out of it's own sheer chaotic spite.
Things, after so long were seeming to finally look up, patience, at least convincingly feigned up and covered over impatience was paying off. 'Tor was a strange place, but in a good way, the kinda place where you form comraderies previously unknown in the upper world, like a whole other world period. Where hunting groups form from 3 - 4 different and diverse clantags. Sure there were those few he cuold probably never fully trust down there, but they either returned back to the surface world, left the inn about as soon as they saw him in there, or were in turn, hunted themselves.
Almost a whole other month had gone by, and strange dreams flooding his mind, of a drastically different topside, peopled completely with strangers or disguised acquaintances. With hidden agendas and unknown wars that trapped all who so much as thoght about them in it's snare. Sides, alliances, loyalties, allegiances, alignments and friendships don't often all board the same ship. But as long as those concepts are left alone by the misunderstanding, they're eventually understood and will in turn leave people alone.
The calendar in his rooftop inn room fluttered with the breezes outside of the dank and humid hellish cryptscented air currents and motions and attacks of monsters and warriors far more powerful than he, and the X's clawdug into the parchment crept day by day to a marked conclusion. One day was written up as "Doggie Chow ha ha ha!".
He after running right past two dracoliches, ran north and without a thought stepped onto a glowing circular portal, vanishing. A dark room rimmed at nearly eyelevel with red eyes of huge Displacer Hounds, this was any cat's nightmare, in the cage, with huge angry dogs. He gulped and ran behind a pillar.
These Psionic Howls tore at his mind even if they missed his body, causing him to grit his teeth hiss and run further south, but a few more Howls and he laid shredded and sizzling from the massive psiosonic assault, watching from limbo with a bemused curiousity, the safest vantage point for observation that beyond life, he studied how the hounds moved, a walk or two in one direction, PING then
PING they appeared in a different part of the room entirely, and it was hard to tell which was which hound. It was hard to tell by the numerous deep tracks on the ground, but were they using some form of Space or Time displacement to teleport or just speed up time to accelerate their movements. Shade days did seem a bit faster than he'd thought they were, and the world being exactly as we see it once again popped back i-
<V^v^v^V>
"ChOmP!"
It was like really really dark in here, and Scooby Doo where are you?
Scooby has eaten our corpse. The black slimy red eyed giant Night Scouts had finally snacked us up.
Resurrect, and redress back in his working duds. Much much much of it was from donations, and inheritances, and just plain items put on him to make him a more useful contributing member of 'Tor society. He could probably pass himself off as Elite if only he stopped asking if he was elite yet jokingly, or asking what elite was at all.
So yeah just a few snapshot freezeframes of Life And Death In Bal'Tor and it looked to be a busy, but prosperous weekend coming up as well, if only he could quit fizzling manapotions or causing malformed square, loopy, stretched melted ones to appear!
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