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Recent Statuses

8 days ago
Current Lots of ideas, voices in your head? You may not be schizo, just need to find a plot and start writing.
7 likes
10 days ago
Movie Studios don't use AI to generate scripts because they're not copywritable. My writing is mine, not the world's to play with.
3 likes
11 days ago
I've no idea what is meant by everyone being a "southern cowboy".
2 likes
28 days ago
I like that the Amish gives their kids a chance to decide if they want to stay in their parent's religion.
1 like
2 mos ago
"Badgers?" he said, sweating as he heard gun hammers being cocked unseen behind him. "We ain’t got no badgers. We don’t need no badgers. I don’t have to show you any stinkin' badgers!"
4 likes

Bio

I am a seven-foot tall minecraft-playing hindu guru drag-queen alien.

Possessor of an Ancient Device™ Model 17. No, I don't know what it does. No, you can't play with it.

Pronouns: It. As in: "What is it? What does it want? Why is it here? Oh my god, it's got my... <insert random body part or object here>"

Likes: World Domination, Writing, Rpg, scifi/fantasy, anime, sketchup 3d models, and anime music videos.

Companions: a host of characters from other games, my personal muse Penny (as in Bad), and the Badger gang - Toothpick, Buttons, Shark, and Mongo. They grew up in the balcony of an old theatre that played a lot of gangster movies. Normally benign, but may invade the OOC forums.

Most Recent Posts

"Full" means you're at capacity. I wouldn't mind it if people would edit their titles to say "closed" or "cancelled" more often, but I've had a few ghost on me.
The miasma was thicker on the second level, not unlike the sickly sour smell of a sickbay after a long battle, with the stench of fear, charred and rotting flesh, vomit and soiled bodies. She remembers that smell all too well. Her stomach cramps - not as bad as before the battle, but this wasn't a good time, gritting her teeth as her sword slashes at yet another skeleton, only for another to appear in its place.

What was that necromancer doing? If Terilu could raise them, why couldn't he put them down? And what was the giant doing, or any of the others? If she knew magic, she'd be throwing around fireballs, destroying the miasma and the skeletons all at the same time!

"How..." Ilyana yells, knocking aside a spear jabbing towards her as her blade separated the owner's skull from the rest of its skeleton, "Is everyone? We having fun, yet?"
SUGGESTION: When a game has to close for whatever reason, I think you should include either a new Join Status or a tag that says "Closed".
"In our world," Jack said carefully, studying the bridge with concern, "When the wildlife grows quiet, it's either because it's about to rain, or they're afraid of something."

"Do you have rivals who would think it right to ambush you?" he asks Silbermine softly. "I wonder if we were to move back, if others would appear?"

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, keeping his voice light as he bowed slightly towards the other members of the crew, "it is now the spot in this evening's program for you to prepare what weapons you have, as I feel the necessity of using them is nigh upon us."

Whoever was out there waiting, Hopefully they weren't too deep into their trap. But then he doubted they expected a walking, burning tree mage to land in it with them.

"Apparently, we are fated to live in interesting times," he shrugs.

Ilyana's lips curled in anger. This... this was slavery! Binding the unwilling and driving them forth to battle without care or concern...!

And Terilu was thrilled!

And then Nemeia stepped up spoke, the sadness in her heart weighing down her words.

"Let us fight with the shackled dead then, deeper in this corrupted crypt. My fellow pilgrims, our solemn task remains, we must continue our freshly begun work, we must cleanse this place of the evil that afflicts it."

Ilyana bowed her head, a scowl writhing on her lips, then she reluctantly raised her heads. The tiefling was right, they were committed, now.

"He didn't even ask them," she choked out, remembering walking out of that prison to find the press gang waiting for her. And her uncle's man, watching from across the way as they reshackled her to a chain with the other 'recruits' and marched them down the street, towards the docks and the waiting ships. And the smiles of the people, pleased that it was convicts, not them. How the leader of the press gang took what little they had before turning them over to the ship's quartermaster...!

How many died that first fight? How many died the second?

The young half-human girl started after them, but she couldn't help but wonder - if she died down there, would Terilu animate her body too? Would he bring her back to guard the caravan while her things were stolen from her cart?

And the worse of it, knowing that nobody would care.

"Aye, let's be off after that onion-eyed oaf," Ilyana mutters, following them down the ramp. "Before the grist mill runs dry."
A group concept for Pilgrim.









@TortoiseI'd like to bring in a group.











As explained in Justin's post, there are five wagons:
The prince & fortune teller's wagon (pulled by horses)
The wagon shared by the priestess and the apothecary (pulled by horses)
The cook's wagon (pulled by oxen and cows)
The supply wagon (pulled by oxen) (carries the vampire's iron coffer)
The drivers' wagon (pulled by oxen)

Let me know if you need details about the cook or drivers. The prince's retinue are all female, selected by Lucia.
"Just.... great," Ilyana sighs, unsheathing her cutlass. There could just be a few graves or hundreds, possibly thousands inside - and now all of them were likely stirring after an attack on one of their number.

"We're committed now," she scowls, gritting her teeth as she waded in after the others, the all enveloping darkness turning gray as her real eye adjusted, allowing her to see the undead as they ventured forth from their shelves. Stepping forward, her silvered blade cut their souls' connection to their bones, causing them to fall into a loose pile all over the floor, making a trip hazard worse than any storm-swept deck.

"I didn't come here to fight, but if I must, I shall!" Ilyana roared, separating another skull from its body. At least in these upper levels, many of the bones were too brittle, what weapons they had too rusted to keep up much of a fight. This would change, oh yes. This would change.

There was a ramp, heading downwards towards another level below. She took it, but stayed wary as more approached her.
"What, you guys don't have a mechanic?" Black Jack scoffed, eyeing the escort with open doubt on his face. "All ya gotta do is post a decent offer on any job board, you don't have to waylay them coming off a transport."

Okay, he admitted to himself, playing dumb wasn't fooling anyone here, but if it created just a moment of doubt, they might start to wonder if maybe they got the wrong transport.

Like they see transports all that often, he frowned, taking in the vacant field as he followed Richard back to his ground shuttle, keeping his hands open and away from his weapons. Still worth a shot.

Just how many knew they were coming, anyway? Couldn't that guy keep his yap shut?
A large open cavern, without torches. Strange, that. Did the people who tend the torches not come in here? Or did something here like it dark? At least they hadn't taken away the moss that glowed dimly. Still, she could hear others in the cavern, moving about, hunting for something...?

There were ledges along the cavern wall, Sam pulled herself up on one, hampered slightly from having to carry this small blade without sheath.

Now a little higher, she looked down into the gloom, hoping to spot whoever else was in this dark place with her - and she did. Were these goblins, like herself? It was looking at something gray in the dim light - but what wasn't gray here? Was it food? Was it alive? She couldn't tell. Inching forward, some pebbles got knocked loose and fell off the ledge,

Sam swore as the falling pebbles hit the stone floor of the cavern, echoing in the small space. She better move, now.
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