Sigil

Forgotten Realms: Tales of the Dead

Unsure whether it would be insulting to bid the master a farewell at this juncture, Keystone tried bowing again (slightly more successfully than two days ago!) and exited the room. He looked down at the scroll, and pondered Shein-Fang's advice. Sell it or use it to escape combat. Well, he couldn't use the damned thing, nor did he personally know anyone who could. So, sell it was. Turns out, he did know someone nearby that showed interest. If he was still around. That was business for later.

Two doors down and a futon was business for now. He was accustomed to catching power naps if pressed for time or on the job. Despite not having an actual employer at the moment, he had never felt quite as On The Job as he did at that moment. He had a lot to think about and even more to discuss. Settling in, he opened himself up to what he referred to as "mindspeak" with his spiritual guest. He tried to be understanding.

"Kaylee, we both heard what the old master said. Gave us the first chunk of straight talk we've got about this whole mess, he did. Now, let's talk on what we know." Keystone took a deep breath and organized his thoughts.

"One, this Glith is only after me. I've half a mind to walk right up to him and politely request a quick death if I thought it would keep a thousand more from dyin' or worse. Hells, if he knows I'm not in the town, he might just let everyone else be."

He continued, "Two, your presence in my head makes me weaker. I can't do what needs being done while you're sharing rooms with my logic-box. Same time, your presence makes Big & Fugly stronger. Lots stronger."

"Three, people are going to die. I'll say this again. People are going to die. They've been dying by the dozens, hundreds maybe so far. They've been dying because of Glith. They've been dying because of me. They've been dying because of you. I need to be doing something serious on this situation before two days are over, which looks like 'bout the time more people are going to die."

"My head is not the answer. Bleeding arse, Kaylee, you've been in there for a while now - if you poked about in my memories at all you probably know I've lived a horrifying life. It must be agony in there, gods know it is for me. You need to stop being afraid, and come out. You can make him a bloody juggernaut, obviously you're powerful. You're stronger then this, Kaylee. Stronger than cowering and hiding. Don't let this Glith keep using you. Fight. Help me fight."

"In the end, I will do what I've gotta to keep the most people safe from harm, myself included. I want you to be a part of this. I'm getting a couple hours of sleep now, and when I'm up, we're getting started. If you've anything to say, now's the time."

Keystone lay down and closed his eyes. To fix the On The Job concept in his mind, he curled his fingers into his huge brass knuckles and lay his arms across his chest. "Two hours." he said aloud, "and then my watch begins." Practice forms first, Red Wizards next, tell Raa what going on (if possible), make plans to move. Fighting Glith now, or maybe ever, was ill advised. But for now, rest.

Drawn Togethe (Character "Reality" Show) - RPG Forum Style

All over this, like a fat kid hitting a cupcake. And I have just the character for this, too.

Interested.

Forgotten Realms: Tales of the Dead

"You're a right bescombering man, Harfen." Keystone stated flatly. "A bloke with a less scruples, having been denied a quarter of his promised wages, would likely pummel the chiseler what done it until he felt they were square. Likely afterwards, he'd note the description of the carriage carrying the most expensive lovelies, and pass that along to the remaining classless buggers in the city. I met enough of 'em just last night."

Keystone's eyes narrowed as he looked over the portly man. He stepped in just a bit closer, and dropped his voice to a harsh whisper, "The both of us would have been better off knowing who we were dealing with." He held gaze with the merchant for a moment, then shifted his voice to a more elevated, almost pleasant tone. "Be seeing you around, Harfen. I'm hitting the road in a while, myself. Take care of that cargo."

Of course he meant to do none of those things, angry though he was. He had bigger issues than a less-than-scrupulous merchant. Putting a bit of fear into him, however, was different matter. Selfish, and a little childish, true, but it took a trace of weariness from his limbs and was immediately satisfying. He tucked his new wealth into a pocket, and began his day.

---

At the Xiang Temple, Keystone tried to remember the proper acts of respect and courtesy. Trying to emulate more than get every movement perfectly, he hoped that his attempts would be noted favorably. Holding the interesting position of an outlander, he was versed in their technical skills but not their social customs. Once or twice he asked the monks attending to the needs of the Temple the proper manner to approach and speak with the Grandmaster, but the most he really got could be summed up approximately as "don't be yourself".

Upon admittance, Keystone sat in front of Grandmaster Shein-Fang of Telflamm, and opted not to speak until the Xiang monk acknowledged his presence. If necessary, a minor throat clear at most. He set his pack to the side and tried to look patient and not at all worn out from his previous night.

He opened up to the Grandmaster with full detail and total honesty concerning everything that occurred since accepting Reverin's job offer, including the part where he didn't ask too strenuously about the details before accepting. The full truth about Kaylee, total details about the visions he received, and the interesting phenomenon of the great monster's power reduced, so long as the pugilist kept his distance. For the first time, he withheld nothing about his story. Everything.

"The thing of it is, I need to know what this Kaylee is trying to tell me. What the visions mean. How I help free her from ...this... and how I hope to have any chance against this kind of enemy. It's following me, I'm aware of this now. My skills alone are woeful inferior to the task."

He presented the Time Stop scroll, and laid it before his host. "The Red Wizards seemed very interested in getting their hands on this, Master Shein-Fang. Lots of others, too. Don't know if I can trust a man with it, wanted it that much. Maybe you can use it for yourself, or your Temple. Maybe sell it and feed your people for a season."

Keystone's face betrayed a request before continuing, "I do need help, though, if'n you're willing. I need advice. I need to know what to do next. I could do with a guide - I'm trying to pick up where I left off with Chees<cough> Chi Attacks, Master. Understand, I ain't meaning to bribe you nor make you obligated. If you have any questions of me, I'm feeling particularly honest, sir."

With a moment of hesitation, "Also, I could stand a place to lay my head for a couple of hours. It's been an interesting night."

Forgotten Realms: Tales of the Dead

"Many thanks for your time, Master Smith." intoned Keystone in Dwarvish. A little stiff, but respectful. Speaking again in Common, "Another time, when money's not scarce, I'd love to see what you do with knuckle dusters." He balled his hands into gargantuan fists to emphasize his statement, bowed his head politely, and took his leave.

Thinking on it, either the Identify scroll he used was faulty, the Bracers were off somehow, or there was more to this mystery. While not much for trusting magic, the old Dwarf's assessment of the bracers did not sate his curiosity completely. It was enough for now, though. Other things took priority.

Speaking of priorities, his actions for the past day and a half seemed to lack true direction. A little chaotic, even for him. In the next day or two, an army of the dead will be attacking the city. This army is led by the second most frightening thing he had ever personally encountered, to his recollection.

The first most frightening entity he had ever witnessed was his longtime friend Magda, a bawd with a leg of polished ironwood from the knee down, prone to bouts of rage so overtaking that churches let out early and grown men had to avert their eyes in terror, lest the wrath and crazy consume them. Maybe he should go home and find her, let her stare down the eyeless sockets of Rotty and make him feel fear inspired by a pissed-off one-legged prostitute at a bad time in her feminine cycle.

But his thoughts digressed. He had begun to explore this city for the purposes of amassing supplies and learning more about his new enemy. He had learned some, hints from flashes of vision and a little more from a shamefully intimidated priest. Now, little better off than when he entered the city, he stood in the middle of merchants furiously hawking wares to frightened and fleeing cityfolk at rapidly increasing prices. This was not where he needed to be, at least not the most. Still, he was here. Perhaps fate put him where he was needed.

Perhaps he'd lay a fist into the face of the snarky merchant he was about to guard for and help out Rocksteady with his heavy lifting for free. Could go either way. He seemed like the type he'd drink with after a fight was through.

Enough of this center street philosophy - he was here, this is what he was doing, and unless the situation altered, this was his action until he spoke with the Grandmaster the following day. Keystone turned his attention back to the merchant, and fell into line for guard work. "Five minutes instead of thirty, Harfen. I'll try to only frighten the ones with sticky fingers."

Forgotten Realms: Tales of the Dead

Keystone sighed, noting that the elder dwarf seemed the boisterous but easygoing sort. With relief, he found a spot to sit and continued his conversation, this time in his own dialect of underclass Common. "Begging your pardon there, Master Dwarf, and my sincerest on hamfisting your language. Talking on your idea of forges, it's my awareness that any forge, no matter slummy, stands a better chance at making masterful things when one of your kind's at the anvil."

He noted the mention of Delzoun, and with interest piqued, continued, "You said something about Delzoun forges, didn'ya? I am to believe these bracers were made there - Dwarf name of Iron Thorgood. Would you care to take a closer look?" Keystone pushed back his sleeves and held up his arms, affording the smith a better view. "Claimed them by right of salvage from a very unkind pointy-hat. Then the world went absolutely nutshite. Big corpsified guy name of Glith destroyed Two Stars, been refugees since."

Maybe he had shared too much. At this point it couldn't hurt, he figured, and glossed over the last statement, "What do you mean by dwarfkin jokes, anyway? Did I miss something else on the bracers?"

The Walking Dead: Eat. Prey. Love. Or Die Trying...

I'm curious about this one. Ordinarily I don't go for pop media settings, but I am a big fan of the series. Is there an OOC or CS template yet?

EDIT
N'mind, saw the template above. Working on it now.

The Other Guys: Heroes (almost)

@Eyeris
Outstanding. Shoot me a character concept, CS template is in the OOC or first post, above. Looking forward to getting this back underway.

The Seventh Division: AW2

Peachy, Lexicon. Just peachy. Preparing for the upcoming holiday, giving serious consideration on what I'll be carving into pumpkin flesh this year.

Or consideration toward what Captain Stabby would do with a Jack O'Lantern.

I did this one a couple of years ago, got rave reviews: Skelly & The Dead Guy
Or this one, for you Walking Dead fans: Don't Open Dead Inside
Not my favorites, though. Too bad you can't upload images directly on this forum.

Say, what season is it? Dante has to decorate his cave with survivalist-appropriate oddities.

Final Fantasy - The Red Mage Chronicles

@Flamelord@Herald

I'd like to take the moment to thank the both of you for showing up and being active. Out of the five that posted their CS, you guys are the only ones to kick this pig and get it started. Unfortunately, the spiking initial interest has not resulted in posting RPers. I can see as we have two options:

1) If you two are willing, play an additional character each. Not an existing CS in this RP, it's their character to use or keep in Limbo. Make another Light Warrior and play on.

2) Put a pin in this and relaunch in another month or so. Hopefully by then, more solid interest will be available.

I'd rather not give up on this altogether. There is a lot of good potential in this setting and storyline.

Your thoughts?

Forgotten Realms: Tales of the Dead

Keystone thanked the merchant for his offer, understanding that this was most likely the best deal he was going to get this evening. The rate of pay was still monstrously better than a laborer would have picked up for a similar amount of time. So, he would miss the appointment with the junior historian that evening. The whole deal sounded like a scam anyway. Keystone noted again that he would have to locate a spellcaster he could trust. With an undertaking such as this, it may well mean the difference between life and death. Noting the commotion in the shack on the corner, he turned to the merchant, "I can start in a half hour, Harfen. Need to take care of something pertinent; I will be right back."

He approached the hovel, listening to the sounds of metalwork in progress. The heat difference was notable as he neared the entrance. Before he got fully within sight of the proprietor, he dug into his pack and brought out smallish bottle wrapped up in a dark colored shirt. Unwinding the article of clothing, he carefully palmed the bottle and replaced his pack. Having dealt with Dwarves before, Keystone approached in a confident but respectful manner, eyes direct but trying not to appear as one looking down on the elder craftsman.

In practiced (if a trace slow and formal) Dwarven, he began, "Forgemaster Rocksteady, I am called Edeknurl," the last word the direct Dwarven translation, "or Keystone among my own people. I know you are very busy, but may I buy a little of your time with this?"

Keystone held up the flask-like bottle, one of a few in his personal stash. "This distillation is a thing of my own homeland. To not insult you, I did not make it myself. Men with better learning put their hearts into it. It is considered respectable in my city, though not likely as fine as the spirits of your father's kin." A little too formal. He needed practice around more native speakers, but at least the rusty hinge of his subterranean linguistics got a little movement. A little more, and he may have even felt comfortable speaking the language aloud.

Slightly flustered at his blocky speech, he exhaled sharply and continued, "If I may, Master Smith, my knowledge of the written language is less accurate than spoken Dwarven. Can you tell me what this says?" he produced the charcoal rubbing of the engraving on the bracers, and wrapping it around the bottle, offered it formally to the smith.