Recent Statuses

1 yr ago
Current Never.
2 yrs ago
School starts later this month, so I may randomly not respond for a couple days at a time after that
2 yrs ago
Sorry for the delay mein fruends, I'll be sending out replies this weekend sometime
2 yrs ago
I have a 60 hr week ahead of me. Replies will be sparse~
2 yrs ago
I'm buying a house! Stressful and awesome at the same time! Wheeeeee~
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Daisy here! You wanna know about me? Cool. Here ya go:

For the record, I am crazy, but the fun kind. I am a Federally Certified HAZMAT Professional, software project manager, science enthusiast, and futurist disguised as a innocuous worker drone. You want a wearable sound system? Been there. You ever had the chance to play with an Electron Accelerator? I've built one in my garage using salvaged TVs. Don't know how data is delivered through a myriad information systems to your end-user device? I'll draw a flowchart diagram. Wanna learn about the different mechanisms that allow bacteria to exist in some of the most extreme environments in the universe? I got you~

I like sweet wines, bourbon, Disney movies, singing kareoke, surfing, reading, science experiments, and generally blowing everyone's mind.

I've floated in and out of the RPG stomping grounds since 2008. Suffice it to say, I'm more into the old-fashioned table-top scene that an online roleplay, but every now and then something with promise comes around to peel me away from my normal routine. I've been a GM for online RPG's, here and in other forums, and offline since my middle school days. So... 12 or 13 years of campaign crafting and story drafting.

A Full-time work and school schedule means I cannot post on a regular basis. I have too many other responsibilities to accommodate as-is. However! I do dedicate myself wholeheartedly once I join a game. Unless the thread dies, I will check in periodically and contribute as much as time allows.

Most Recent Posts

For now the force powers she gained after leaving the Order have simply been crossed out. I think I'm just going to remove or rewrite that section later.

Backstory regarding faking her own death may need a rewrite as well.

trapped at work
I'm interested as well. =o

Seeds of Empire

Tall reeds bent together into archways, forming a narrow corridor through the marsh. The murky, black waters rippled as the emissary took slow, measured steps so as to not get trapped in the muck. His nose wrinkled in derision, offended by both the wet trudge and the ambient stench of sulfur.

“What right does that bastard have to command me? A Lord of Brionac?” the emissary fumed aloud. “He will regret making a fool of the Caiside Clan!”
He seethed over having to come meet someone as low and conniving as Nihil. Everyone knew the dark elves of the south were savages who had lost touch with elven culture. Why was it then that they had been pushing further and further into Brionac. They had managed to best old, established clan guardians with little effort. Even now, the fighting continues. In Garric’s mind, old didn’t mean better. Old clans were weak and useless. They deserved the humiliation of defeat, if they couldn’t defend against few barbarians and hunters. The Eldest too have betrayed their principles, if they believe parlaying with the infamous Fenn Lords will do any good. He just couldn’t fathom why he should be the one to go, when plenty of other lords, albeit of lower status, were more suited to brokering a ceasefire. It was beneath him to negotiate with the enemy, let alone the base and corrupt dusk elves.
At last the dark waters yielded to a soft patch of land, littered with huts and the remnants of ancient stone pillars. The largest of these monolithic fragments had been staked into the ground and arranged in a oblong circle. Each one bent inward toward the center and collectively held up a precarious roof. The ceiling was crafted from enormous shards of granite, and each disparate piece fit together with the impossible precision one might expect from dwarves.
Shadows of orange firelight writhed against the dark interior. Near the entrance, two guards stood at attention, their eyes fixed straight ahead.

Lord Garric steeled himself and marched forward with the easy confidence of an elven highborn. His retainers, clad in expertly-stitched leathers and armed with magic blades, followed closely behind him. His mouth curled into a sneer, but before he could take another step the world shrank away and slid past him. His vision stretched into to a nauseating blur and then snapped abruptly back into focus. His stomach lurched uncomfortably as the eternity of distance between he and the stone shrine shortened to nothing. Though disoriented, he could still make out the sharp lines of familiar elven face.
Nihil was reclining in on exquisitely carved throne accentuated with thin cracks and pits that hinted at ancient origins. An ox skull hung on the wall behind him.

“You...” his voice sank into a menacing growl. He drew his thin blade, ready to tear out the elf’s throat with bloodthirsty glee. “You shit-skinned little worm! How da-”

Something caught in the lord’s chest. He noticed only too late that none of his retainers were with him. He felt the blood in his veins grind to an agonizing halt as something clamped against heart like a vice. He struggled to breathe and clutched at his chest. His vision swam.
Anguished cries clamored outside the hall. All manner of wildlife flooded out of the tall reeds and brush, surrounding Garric’s clansmen. Insects carpeted the ground in a wriggling, biting horde. Birds formed a dark, writhing cloud which clawed and pecked at their eyes, while a host of snakes and other reptiles dragged each one to the ground kicking and screaming. Their frantic screams were quickly devour by the hungry cacophony..

“The first one is always free, Garric.” Nihil began. His tone was friendly, but the weight of his sinister smile pressed Garric down to his knees. There was palpable tension between them, which Nihil swaggered through effortlessly. He bent down and gingerly patted him on the back.

Garric wheezed sharply. Whatever curse befell him had subsided, but his eyes were still bulging and he could still feel malevolent claws digging into his chest, waiting for an opportunity to wrench the life out of him.

“You see, Garric, the first one is free because I know people are born into ignorance.” He chuckled. “It’s not their fault. They are ignorant of themselves, of how they fit into a much greater cosmic design, but most importantly their ignorant of the rules they must live by. My rules."
Garric snapped his head up to protest, but found he couldn’t speak. His voice was gone. He groped at his throat, searching for a clue as to what happened.
“But I believe in forgiveness,” Nihil continued. “So I allow them a moment of quiet reflection. They need it so they can reflect on how they’ve disrespected me and the people loyal to me. And they always appreciate my kindness when I let them bend a knee and ask for forgiveness,” Nihil loomed over the gasping noble like a dark cloud.
“This is your moment of reflection, Garric. It is a kindness.” Each word was spoken with a terrible exactness that drove the elven lord into into a panic.

Garric reeked of fear. Sweat trimmed his thin brow, and a dark stain marred his padded leggings. Nonetheless he found the resolve to stagger onto his feet. He knew immediately that the rumors were true. Nihil was no longer an elf nor an immortal, he was something much more dangerous than that.

Nihil circled him, pinning him with a predatory stare and a winning smile. He tried catching Garric’s gaze so he could see the flashes of fear in his eyes. He knew was there, but the pompous elf kept looking away. The floor in particular seemed very interesting to him. Nihil already knew he what was going to happen, but wanted to see it. He wanted to see the moment when Garric finally broke. His dark hand clamped around the noble’s face and tilted his gaze up, so they could meet eye-to-eye. He savored the man’s desperate look, and grinned.

“There it is.”

Garric bent to one knee, once Nihil loosened his grip, and bowed his head deeply in reverence. His forehead pressed into the dirt. His body was covered in a layer of cold sweat. “I-I was an ignorant fool. What can Clan Caiside do you earn your forgiveness, Elder Nihil?”

The orange fire lights dancing on the wall coalesced into two hauntingly beautiful women, both with piercing emerald eyes and long, sumptuous gowns spun from silver threads. The sheer fabric hinted at voluptuous curves beneath. They didn’t smile.

“Neffeni. Lyndis.” Nihil shot a smug glance at the two Sirens who stepped forth from the shadows. “Clan Leader Garric has agreed to take responsibility for disrespecting our sovereignty, and as a show of good faith wishes to broker a truce with us on behalf of the Eldest of Brionac. I judge him to be an honorable man. Therefore he is a guest, not a prisoner, and we are going to treat him as one of our own.”

Ambivalence and Curiosity


"I was making a deal with the witch that owns these lands. We concluded our business so she saw me out... Without my permission..."

I bet he got swept along by Heleva. Everyone does A mischievous smirk tugged at her lips as a few jokes percolated in her mind. As if reading her thoughts, Marik subtly and sharply elbowed her in the side, derailing her train of thought with a soft thud. She smiled plainly to hide to a grimace.

The demon didn't seem to be in the mood to be teased. Marik didn't have any love for the creature, this Vaettir, and he understood the feeling was mutual, but he also didn't want to provoke it. He had heard stories of the demon's necromantic powers, and that fact alone was enough to justify avoiding the demon altogether.

"What brings you two here? Deals with the witch as well or simply seeking shelter. You both look, worse to wear."

Vaettir always seemed to be avoiding Astrid when they met, quickly finding an excuse to leave, so she was initially stunned at his sudden interest. Then she remembered she was still wearing the itchy, smelly burlap pancho and little else, which left her feeling vulnerable and annoyed. She fidgeted.

"You're not wrong, I suppose..." She ground out at last, trying to remain polite. "Heleva has been accommodating of me in the past, so I was hoping to rely on her good will once again. We've just returned from the Devil's Spine, and we're low on both money and supplies. Yet, I..." her word trailed off into silence. I wonder, if it was the best idea to come here. Her gaze seemed drawn to the single longhouse at the center of the town.

"I'm sure you've seen the lights." Marik interjected and stuck a thumb over his shoulder at the mountains behind him. "The magic in the area has shifted, and not for the better. The forest was empty on our way back, which is an ill omen if I ever saw one. We were going to report back to the adventurer's guild after we gather more supplies. Unfortunately, that means we must be on our way." He glanced at Astrid, urging her to wrap up her conversation.

Astrid ignored him, and the itchy fabric too. "So what drove you to visit Heleva? I thought you didn't like entering human settlements." Her eyes brightened with curiosity. Her intuition told her it must have been important.

In Too Deep

Ever patient, the regal slime didn't move an inch. If it was calculating a response it didn't show. Green motes of light strobed through its body in a steady rhythm. Little branches of dim light forked endlessly inside it. All the while it's quite distinct features became more and more refined. It even started breathing. Pale colors flushed through the slime like paint carried by a current. Plumes of colors settled along precise lines and curves. Each second the slime more and more resembled a paragon of demi-humans. The sapphire of her eyes radiated from a thin reptilian slit and shimmered with alien intelligence. A warm blush brightened her perfect mimicry of skin. A ridge of tiny horns accentuated her crown as her nails sharpened to exquisite points. Twin geysers of pale starlight erupted from her back and congealed into feather-like streamers. They unfurled to either side of her like an angelic cape and fluttered like banners caught in the wind.

"Don't consider yourself food, you say?" It wasn't a question. Her lips curled with a hint of mischief.

The eerie transformation was little more than a parlor trick for the slime. It had been etching shallow runes into the floor around Masrith, completing an intricate magical circuit. It would have been difficult to see with a torch, but the brackish blue muck obscured it even further. They were defensive wards meant to erect a powerful barrier and suppress any magic within. Despite its docile facade, it was wary of the power is sensed from Masrith. It would activate the circle if he posed a threat, and it was already starting on a third layer when he inquired about the scholar's notes.

"His notes?" She giggled. "You misunderstand, little one. I have no need for scrolls and ink."
Her fingers uncurled to reveal a shimmering blue bead swelling from the skin of her palm. It slowly grew to the size of a tangerine. The gelatinous fruit was cloudy and veins of pale white light pulsed through it. "All of my guests have tasted this. The scholar called it the 'Fruit of the Gods'. You can feast upon history and insight of countless lives. Fragments of those who have offered themselves to me." She caressed it with a slender finger, thin streaks of light trailing behind her touch.

"A gift and a gamble. A challenge to see what you are, little one. Are you food or fun?" She smiled like the Sun. Power began emanating from her so strongly the surrounding slime rippled from its force. There was a shift in her demeanor as the queen strode toward the edge of the circle. She possessed an easy confidence one would expect from royalty--that the world was hers and no one could to refute her claim. It was a stark contrast to the endearing tone and amiable persona she maintained.
"Memories and magic distilled into a delightful morsel. If you endure its power, you can taste my past, and I yours. It is unlike anything this world can offer you." Her voice was gentle and hauntingly beautiful, but each word hummed with frightening power. A pact borne of magic crystalized into the slimy morsel.
"Have a taste, little one."

Close Encounters, Unexpected Guests


Long before they ever reached Vescarim, Astrid felt it. It was the slightest resistance, like trying to wade through water, but it was there nonetheless.

Borders didn't really exist. People drew lines on maps, but you never saw them on the ground. There's no line clearly stating 'this patch of dirt is owned by so and so'. For Ódauðlegur, the line certainly existed. The grass didn't look any different. The plants and animals were busy and chattering. Nothing seemed out of place. But after one step, she knew where the line was. Unfettered magic had congealed in the air so thickly she could probably chew it; it had even seeped into the ground, which tugged at her with each step. She had never been to Vescarim, but she realized that an immortal lived there. Given how potent the magic was in these hills, they were probably very old, very powerful, or both. And, in all likelihood, probably ran the place too.

The magic in the area pushed against her gently, trying to nudge her away and back across the border. The land had been claimed by an immortal and it didn't want anyone else trampling through it. No more difficult than tear a sheet of parchment, she pressed onward with little effort. Her own magic recoiled against it, extending from her soul. She could feel the friction as it scraped against the invisible mass of raw magical energy pervading the air.

Marik seemed no worse for wear. He wasn't an immortal, but he carried himself like one. There was an easy confidence in the way he moved. One look and anyone knew that he was quite sure of himself.

Astrid had always been baffled at how quickly he healed, how he had survived fatal wounds, and how he didn't breathe when he slept. Grave spirits clung to him like flies on rubbish. Not even zombies garnered that kind of attention. It was spooky, even for her. Her talent for making friends was abysmal, however, so she stowed her curiosity and asked very few questions. Both had vital secrets and neither wanted to share. Astrid didn't know what she was or who her parents were. But she knew, intrinsically, that in some deep, dark corner of her soul, a spectre of the Blight made its home. It was a part of her and she felt she was a part of It, albeit a very small part of a much grander and more terrifying It. Thankfully, monster inside her couldn't come out. Not until she left this immortal's demesne.

The hills had flattened some, yielding to gentle steppes. The path was an easy one. Two parallel ruts in the ground marked the caravan highway. Small stone markers marked the edge of the road at a regular intervals. After traveling at length, they arrived at Vescarim. Black curls of Smoke billowed from the chimney of a few homes.
There weren't any guards per se, but there were quite a few people ambling around. As she was taking in the scenery, she felt a surge of power rush past her. Her stomach lurched and gasped for air, feeling as though she'd been sucker punched. A phantom sensation of falling sideways towards the town followed and left her feeling both dizzy and weirdly euphoric.

She struggled to focus her vision as the line of the horizon bulged then buckled in on itself, the ground rippled without shaking a single building. In the blink of an eye, a smudge of color in the distance rapidly increased in size and clarity as the world moved around it, like convey something from the background to the foreground of painting. Presently, a very large, exquisitely chiseled statue stood before her. She was awestruck for a moment, still trying to unravel what just happened.

Marik quirked an eyebrow at it, but only slightly. He seemed disappointed.

It took her a moment to recover her composure, but she quickly recognized the demonic statue. "Oh! It's... Vaettir!" She said smiling, although still a bit bewildered.
"What brings you to this village? You weren't terrorizing them with folk tales again, were you?" She teased jokingly. "I don't see anyone running and screaming, so it must be a good town." She beamed.
Vaettir fascinated her. Apart from being a creature of living stone, he was one of the few other immortals who deigned to speak with her and didn't try to impale her on a sword at every possible opportunity.
"Aah... Umm... What exactly just happened by the way? Was that some kind of spell you cast? I know a few speed charms, but nothing to let you move like that." Her mind was all too eager to get lost in thought and explore the magical phenomenon she'd witnessed.

Marik looked at Astrid, at the demon, and then at the longhouse down the road. He had already roughly guessed what happened. He glanced at Vaettir and gave a conciliatory shrug as if to say 'You got kicked out too, eh?'.

Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Slime

Content to wait patiently for Masrith to prepare himself, a small, happy grin grew across the slime woman's face, and the streams of dim lights pulsing through it quickened their pace. Instead of a steady flow, they calmly throbbed like a beating heart. It's features slowly gained more and more definition as Masrith listed his demands, adopting a more voluptuous and regal form. Rivulets of slime folded into the resemblance of fine robes, even mimicking intricate patterns in the stitching and flower accents. Masrith was reflected along the surface of its body, and in the strangely metallic crown which sprouted from its head.

When at last he asked "What are you?", the slime giggled joyfully, mirroring natural laughter with eerie precision.
"Such a curious child," it said with a clear vibrado. "I understand."
The thin coat of blue scum along the floor receded like a the tide flowing back out to sea. It cleared a space for Masrith, scorching the stone floor and leaving it immaculately clean.

"You are inside me, little one," it said with giggle. "I am the mountain. Its roots. The earth would swallow you up without me."

Two more androgynous figures sprouted from the larger mass and flanked the queen-like slime on either side. Then another. And another.

"But I must spread. I must spread across the world and into its heart. So to I must feed to thrive. Others stay to keep me company. So some for fun..." It nodded towards Masrith with smile, and then turned its attention to the shaggy creature which had dove into one of the larger globs. "...and some for food."

Another woman's figure formed inside the slime, a caricature of opaque lines within the jiggling mound, and gently wrapped its arms around the slowly dissolving beast. Sweet lulling sounds thrummed through the ooze and soothed the near dead creature.
"The last scholar to visit showed me how to ensure their death was pleasant and painless. My venom guarantees there is no pain, only bliss. As I grew, the poison only became more potent. Many creatures seek me out to have a taste and I taste some of them as well," it said matter-of-factly. It's voice was slowly becoming more distinct, and fluid. Each word flowed seamlessly into the next with an even legato.

"So little one... Are you here food or fun?" It hummed lyrically. It's smiling face was unreadable.
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