Hank

RPGC #1 -- Inspired By A Song

I entered one of the WOTM before Guildfall, I lost by a long shot, but enough people said they liked mine the best after the voting was done that their votes would've snagged me the victory. Not bragging, not complaining, just sharing an experience. I may try thIs contest out though while there is still time. It's only #1 once.

@Nightrunner

This is technically a reboot of the very first writing contest that was hosted on RPG, so it's #1 twice!

_{friendly reminder that i won the very first contest and never participated again; quit while you're ahead, right?}

May I just say...

looks like shit tbh

Guild history

Wait what the fuck.

How am I the defender?

@Doivid

You're the one arguing with the retarded 12-year-olds, so... you do the math, old sport.

Weird music video

It's just a link to Rick Astley's "Never Gonna Give You Up", don't click.

@The Nexerus

My curiosity got the better of me and I clicked anyway, but he's right. Don't bother with this.

Totem

Work has been dreadful. I'll try to write something soon.

Airedale's Rebirth

Apologies, I've been swamped with work. How did you envision the visit? Does the earl show up unexpectedly?

I've been having extremely realistic nightmares for over a week now.

@idlehands

That actually makes a lot of sense.

Totem

We're all awaiting orders. If the good Commodore hasn't posted by the time I get home from work, I'll write some filler.

I've been having extremely realistic nightmares for over a week now.

For some ungodly reason I dreamed that I was living a solitary, hermit existence in a post-apocalyptic world that had been more or less entirely flooded by at least 15 feet of murky, swampy water. It was hot, there were insects everywhere and everything was rotting. I adopted two spiders, a giant orb weaver and a smaller, venomous spider. I don't remember why. I didn't have a cage for them so they just lived in my living space, which I think was in the top floor of a partially submerged house.

The venomous spider eventually bit me in my ear. It hurt and I died.

Dreams are, indeed, fucked up.

Airedale's Rebirth

Gideon uttered a noncommittal "Hm," and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. It wasn't the resounding commitment he'd been hoping for, but it was better than nothing. "I will have my valet draft up a proposal for a contract. In the meantime, I will gratify your request for permission to administer healthcare, and I will give you access to the maps in the Eisenhorn Library... as a sign of good will," he said while he returned Cicely's gaze pointedly.

He strode over to his desk and sat down in the large, leatherclad chair that served as the effective throne of his domain. Dipping his quill (a rather large, colorful example) in a pot of ink, he wrote (in elegant, large strokes) the permission slip to access the aforementioned maps. Gideon reached over and grabbed a document from the far corner of the desk, which he signed swiftly and with a note of finality. Scraping back his chair, he returned to Cicely and handed her the two promised documents.

"Now then," he began, "if you wish to stay and mingle, feel free to return to the great hall. If you'd prefer to return to the inn, ask one of the footmen -- they will escort you to a carriage. Alternatively, a room can be prepared for you in the castle. You would be my honored guest," he said and graced his face with the most inviting smile he could muster. "Somewhere on the second floor, perhaps, away from all the bustle."