Sigil

Forgotten Realms: Tales of the Dead

Brass knuckles, instead of Bracers. The guy's already told Keystone what he could about the bracers, I was trying to get an updated set of knuckle dusters made out of an exceptional material that might be suitable for enchantment at a later date.

Ditto on the waffle iron. But, seeing as he collects cooking gear anyway, might just have to. Dwarfish Waffle Iron is nothing to sneeze at.

The Legend of Zelda: Decedents of the Hero (OPEN)

@Crimson Raven

Cricket's ready to go.

The Legend of Zelda: Decedents of the Hero (OPEN)

Is it just me, or does Kagumo seem a little villainous from her profile?

Forgotten Realms: Tales of the Dead

With sincere gratitude, Keystone accepted the old Dwarf's offer. Careful to maintain appearances, he bowed in the manner of a Xiang Monk, twice, and entered the low room. After the door closed behind him, the large man took a tentative sip from the mug handed to him, and forced himself to maintain composure as he swallowed.

Best efforts on his part bore fruit, well enough that he didn't make an ugly face, anyway. He did mutter a quiet, "...bloody 'ell..." as he exhaled, curious as to how the Dwarf had access to the alley-distilled raw liquor (or something similar) of his homeland. The main difference in this instance was, however, that his people cut it into other, more tolerable liquids for actual consumption. To its credit, he next sip was easier. Perhaps it was simply an acquired taste.

He pulled up a chair with as much politeness as he could muster despite his common upbringing, and gave a weary smile toward Tim and the tall woman. He turned his attention to Rocksteady, and thanked him sincerely for allowing him into his abode with the offer of a meal.

The sight of the food displayed openly reminded the burly warrior that he was actually quite hungry, now that adrenaline and threat of immediate dismemberment had passed. Keystone took modest portions for himself, aware of the fact that he was an unexpected guest in the home of a person he'd met only once. This act of kindness earned he and his family(?) the truth, top to bottom. Over supper. And booze.

He started with the first night in Two Stars, accepting the job offer, his change of heart (when he realized he was hired to be a strongarm thief), and everything else leading up to Kaylee taking up residence in his head. Keystone tended to be very technical with descriptions of the fights he had, making mention of attack and parry combinations, counteroffensive strikes, even the street names of improvised maneuvers and proper applications. "Y'ever fishhook somebody? Nasty, that."

He was emphasizing his story using jabs and swipes with a bare chicken leg, until he was offered another. At which time, he took a big bite and continued his tale, this time emphasizing with a partially bare chicken leg. His story curved around the suspicions he had concerning the Thayan Enclave and the residents therein, apparent the corruption of the city officials, and the hospitality, though temporary, of the Xiang Temple.

He finished off by describing (in somewhat less detail) his fight with Glith. While not saying outright what he had to do to subdue the Undead Knight, he did mention that in the end, he had to rely heavily on a connection to Elemental Earth to keep himself alive. When he was finished, he looked to his hosts, and apologized.

"My sincerest, I promised both a gift and a commission. Master Rocksteady, I was going to offer you another flask of my Own home's booze. I can see you've got a far better spirit for drinking, but p'raps I can offer your ladyfriend something for cooking: A bit of Plum Spirits from the Xiang Temple. Ma'am?" Keystone recovered his pack and fished out a flask, setting it on the table in front of him. "Supper was right settling, ma'am. I'm no slouch in the kitchen myself, and I'd appreciate trading some food learning with you, if'n you're for it."

"I also mentioned a commission, Master Smith." continued Keystone in an optimistic tone. The big man set his signature brass knuckles, mottled and engraved with thusfar unidentifiable markings, near Rocksteady on the table. "They've saved my arse more than once, and they're the closest thing to a weapon I regularly use. I'd find use with more contemporary spares. P'raps suitable for some magicking later on. Got confidence that a Dwarf of your experience can improve upon the design of these; they're more street weapon than not. Can talk details later."

Keystone dug out the Time Stop scroll, and handed it directly to Rocksteady. "This was appraised by the Red Wizards at 1,900 gold coins. I've no use for it, and I have a feeling I can't return to the Enclave for some time. Consider it payment."

"Glith's sword is supposed to be a prison, what keeps Kaylee's spirit trapped." He hefted the massive weapon, and thunked it, wrappings and all, onto the table next to the wine. "Two birds, one stone. This is proper steel, not a bit of fleck or brown on it. I want you to take this thing apart, and use it to make the order. We can talk about whatever's left over after."

"Yeah, one more thing - Lots of metal there. I want you to make part of it into a big-arsed Waffle Iron. Plans, I've got. Big, waffley plans."

Forgotten Realms: Tales of the Dead

Nah. Always did like the multiple Resident Evil sequels.

Forgotten Realms: Tales of the Dead

Too many hints. Too much saccharin. Keystone proceeds with heavily cautioned optimism, kneejerking toward keeping his promise (as we've found out how well he does that so far), however, he's still willing to help Kaylee.

As a player, if killing Glith were the endgame, the game would have ended. Or he's not gone. Loose ends to tie up, at the very least. And breakfast pastry.

Forgotten Realms: Tales of the Dead

Heardja, onboard. At this point, I'm fairly certain that Keystone's visitor is actually something horrible. It kind of reminds me of a series of stories from Dragon Magazine from a ways back, Fool Wolf, or some such. He seemed to have a similar difficulty. Even have a slipshod plan on what I want to do next.

Hint: It involves waffles.

Titans of Gotham [Spots Available!]

So, this is fun:

At work, there are several people who take interest in my charming little characters I make for RPs and games, whatnot. This began a long while ago when I got hold of a Java program, made to replicate character generation for the old Marvel RPG from back in the 90's. I began to create some of the most interesting (some very random) characters, saved them, and occasionally went back to tweak them if I came upon a good idea. I have a number stockpiled, some massively powered, some more modestly.

I made a number of them for my kids. Yes, I am old. They provide no small amount of inspiration; I have made several characters just for them. Still more because I thought they were funny.

Now, back to the guys at work. They know about this, and why I keep doing it. Moreover, they had picked out a favorite a while ago. El Sasquatcho, hands down. It was an instant hit with the Spanish speakers, they want to know when I'm doing the comic book proper. Every week or so, one of them will ask me what I'm writing in for El Sasquatcho next.

Except one guy. He loves the idea, don't get me wrong, but he thought the concept of El Sasquatcho was wholly different than what it is. This co-worker is an older gentleman named Salvador, speaks maybe 30 words in English. He generally asks more bilingual employees to relate the stories of The Infamous El Sasquatcho, Sangre de El Santo. Needless to say, he's a big fan.

Here's the problem: It's common knowledge that I used to fight competitively. Somehow the two running stories got squished together in Salvador's mind, to the point that (and I just found this out yesterday) he thinks I am El Sasquatcho.

I'm going to repeat this, because it bears repeating:

He thinks that I am, in fact, the real El Sasquatcho.

Not the super-powered lover of tacos that we have come to know and tolerate here, but an actual Masked Luchador using the handle of El Sasquatcho in an underground wrestling circuit. And, because of my own lack of understanding of the Spanish language, I could not explain to him the difference.

In the end, I just told him thank you, and please don't tell anyone outside of work.

Forgotten Realms: Tales of the Dead

"Don't let down your guard." mumbled Keystone flatly. If Glith were truly destroyed, as the evidence in his pocket would suggest, then he was never the evil that the old master kept referencing.

The disguised fighter drank Shein-Fang's potion immediately, and paused for just a moment to let the restorative effects wash over him. He began to feel warmer, his heartbeat more relaxed, as if he had just recovered a quart of the blood he had lost in the fight earlier. Standing a little straighter, he continued to his destination.

The attention of the guards was not lost on Keystone; he surmised that his monk's attire probably prevented an immediate identification (if they were still looking for him from earlier), but it was still best to get off the streets.

Pretending not to notice the attention he was getting, he strode purposefully to the door of the workshop, knocked, and announced in a clear voice, "Master Rocksteady, I am Edeknurl, of the Northern Ironfist Temple. I've traveled quite a way, and your town certainly has a violent welcoming committee."

It was a ploy, obviously, but this smith was the only person in town with which he'd used the Dwarven translation of his name. He continued, this time in Dwarven, "I have a gift and a commission for you, Master Rocksteady, if you'd have me in. It's important."

While waiting for response, Keystone briefly pondered the events of the last two minutes. Why would the underclass, as exampled by the concerted efforts of the nearby prostitutes, help him? In his own home, he had the proper connections to warrant such cover, but here? It seemed like another player was in on this game, a mysterious benefactor whose interests lay in keeping Keystone alive and free. At least, free from the open ruling body of Telflamm.

The more he thought about it, the more he wanted this done, and to be on the road, unchallenged, to the next chapter of his life. All things in time, this challenge must be seen to first.

Forgotten Realms: Tales of the Dead

He's not the family type, this stage in his life. Maybe when his cranium in single occupancy only and everything isn't out to get him. Likewise, not topless. Ragged wounds would draw the wrong kind of attention, though with his present get-up he can't hide his upper arms too well.

Ok, moving on. Post up later today.