Legends of the Pink Clan

[PensivesWetness]

Fools and Mayhem (A D&DO Story)(16Apr06 7:15 AM Local)

The damp water reeked of waste, organic or otherwise, gratefully identifiable chunks floating past 6 fools as they trod down the narrows of the Sewers of Stormreach.

'Oi? Some one tell me whyz we's down here 'gains? (frag, i'm minus -50% XP already, wtf?)', chirped the party's Rogue-for-hire, Timslip Alot, a Halfling from some far away village called Brook-lain.

The two 'tanks', hired muscle twin humans 'heckle & Jeckle YourMom' (Fighter3/Rank2, both), chuckled and snorted diresively in thier bizzaire Fighter's cant. 'OMG this is gay' '4K TNG,LOL'

The party's mage, a Dwarf that we call 'Disconnect' for his ffrequent long pauses in stale water was in the middle, didn't say much, just kept casting his 'Burning hands' spell on everything he sees, that is, when he IS moving...

Taking point was the first of the parties two Priests, The gorgeous Elven maid, 'LezboianCyb Ermuff', persumably of Sharess faith do her prospensity for commenting in slutty tones that we won't retype about. But for such a hardcore elf lady, she packs a mean punch as the previous three kobolds dispatched where seen departing in six pieces, respectively.

The last of the party (since Tramo Fartz wisely left the party a second ago), was a huge hulking Warforge named, Mechal Bluemesh. Cleric2/fighter1/Rank3) He simply healed as he went or when asked, his limitless throwning axes only actually limited to his three squares of storage space, kept pace with the party as they advanced...

which is to say they kept running ahead while Mechal kept single clicking on each barrel and crate to smash, since he didnt know you could right click and just swing like a slut in Cleveland...

perhaps his delay was fortunate, for as his party was waaaaay ahead, it was they who suddenly died, almost approptly to a chorus of 'WTF?!' and 'Gay fear' typed or mic'd..... the Warforge advanced to a corner, peeked and walked back as his party pleaded with him to rez them at the shrine that was effectly 4 miles behind them. With heavy thought, and simply minded judgement, the Warforge Cleric spoke on the mic for the last time to his party...

'Well guess your f*ckered up that cat~hump when your Level 6 Cleric left us. Guess being low level in a much higher zone is badz. cya!'

(Party): Mechal Bluemesh has left the party

[PensivesWetness]

Real Life Road trip (22Apr06 8:something AM Local)

Combat Battle Huggle Driving Record, Supplimental Laxatively Minor: We arrived on station just shy of Taps Last eve, after a long 9 hour drive from the Kingdom of Point Break Muguism, to reach the shining city that is...

Jim Davis, Californication (Presumably everyone has a cat fetish not unlike in europe where Burtmania is causing the scottish sheep and Italian Geek populations to sky rocket like wood).

The trip was problematic from the start. One: (1) The Number Uno:

Never get comfused on the State 101 Super Mega 4 lane highway space lanes near any major intrawarp gate, in this case the 405 Left and right turn letfist gateway. Nor cut off one it's royal-nice motorised Officers~of the~law (Which is fortunate, as at least its like i got keeled over by the great Jugde Dredd of Jersey, for example)

after that altercation, we acchieved a slow warp 40.0 as everyone and thier letfist mother was going left on the 405 Left and Right turn letfist gateway. eventually we destroyed enough vehicles withg the megadeth ray toi achieve warp (Censored) until we approached past the mountains in the valley of girls and the dreaded 99-take a right and cry gateway off ram.... (by mistake of course. the naviagator took that wrong time to masterbate to old tri-V's of Jerry F & Jim Bakker films oddly enough)

we continuted on course for 5 minutes, having no desire to temp the local variants of the Royal-perhaps but not certain Officers~of!the~law in performing a combat-Uy, but instead took the first left and drove west back towards the glorious 5 (since the 405 and 5 merge into one simbiote being) cross country thorough corn, crops and mexicans)

upon reaching the 405 again, we noted on LiDAR that a major Magnetic Thundering Storm was parked...... ass edge along the road, which overally all, was very good for our ship as it merely spited on our ship briefly as opposed to made a bad trip bad for anyone east of us....

or merely on the 99 which was in the middle of that mess.

moving on.... after several ours of brain-numbing travel, stops at local Denny-Internation-Houses of-crappy service centers for refuels, we arrived on station in Scarametos, the breath maker city.

now, another lesson: Two (2) The Number Tress?:

The Warp gate to west of Sacrementos is laiered, not like a house of many pancakes so it's easy to miss the turn off from the gate nexus. you very easyly find your self in say, uhh... Cleveland, for example.

well, we found our selves, our intripid ship.... on Q Street instead.

in short, lots of combat guesses got us back on trip, on target, on budget. west we continued...

until we arrived on station (but yet again still managed to get lost, until one of the local deck hands, a nice lass with a nice bumm named Loulose of Green Hair and Death-Beatle, guided our ship into its berth to power down it's warp core and engage moorings.

Just as well as once i reached my suite, the local roaming cat-bandit bands huggle pounced me to death, just as i reached the shower....

[PensivesWetness]

In short, you think i huggle as much in public as i do in private? (24Apr06 11:30 AM Local)

Medical Log, suplimental: patient is a 34 year old male, from Ohio with acute.... 'Qokye' syndrome. it seems he caught the 'cute bug' while travelling back from Sacrementos (The Fresh Breath Maker Capital!) listening to NPR about Cuteness in Japan. It's assumed he will recover eventually, once he stops mumbling about 'Lots&lots&lotsofbewbs'...

Still thinking about all that fun on saturday, from awaking up to huggling Leareth and Lou's uber cats good night

[PensivesWetness]

Swan's Foray (25Apr06 1812 Local)

It was a hurricane chorus around the old hin, as she gazed up into the ceiling, perhaps praying for succor to pluck her from the green pastures of Toril for a better place. A quieter place...

Anywhere but here, surrounded by a dozen little mouths, hollering for attention, for treats, for Supreme Huggles, for love...

Miya! Miya! Meele-a! Meele-A Grahma! Grahma!

Oh so loud, such passion and vigor in their strong voices, voicing needs and desires and wants with rampant enthusiasm.... How did that man from the Safe Haven say that, once, long ago?

Such Small Bodies.... Such Loud Mouths...

Then it came again, the flare of golden throbbing through her body, frail and worn. The youth long spend, leaving weakness with wisdom. She wobbled on her hips, as the chorus of children began to scream with ferocity as the woman near toppled backwards on failing knees...

Only to fall into the strong grip of the woman behind her, powerful forearms supporting and comforting the old woman , easing her down ever so gently...

" 'careful, Mamsya... Old Geezers like you need to be careful" The Short smirk from her tanned skin greeted her elder, her eyes already betraying the worry she beheld her mother, who soon as she could traded with the younger daughter barbs of death, more so from anger at her own frailties than the youth's impudence.

Her frown was crowned by stray strains of her once glorious hair, more silvery white than fey. "Me will be fines, Kojima~Loves....", the old matron batted a hand way, before adding quietly so the children did not hear, "Thank you my child..."

_________________________________________

"Is she asleep, Kojima?" The hin woman spoke, her arms wrapped around the shawl she wore on the back porch, looking out west toward Sune's setting sun. Clouds gathered to the north, hinting of fowl weather and she shivered again subconsciously, her legs wrapping around both sides of the banister she choice to side upon tighter.

The other hin woman, standing while sipping the steaming mug, peas and carrots soup whiffing in the air, looked at her little sister with expressions that hinted of worry... and relief.

"Finally indeed Emilia. She sleeps so much these days. I don't believe the others even know how bad off she really is..." The hin took another deep draft of her mug, the warm liquids more inhaled than consumed to her pleasure. Perhaps the old pleasure she could enjoy of late. "I don't think we should tell the others. Certainly not the children. Thomas says we should contact the Warder or Yondal'Terkan soon. Emilia, i think Millia is dying..."

The hin's Blue~Green eyes grew to large saucers with this news, with one hand reaching to grip her sisters in painful shock, the other to habitually grab and twist at her own long locks, greens mixed with slivers and pink...

[PensivesWetness]

Places one fears to tread... (28Apr06 3:19 PM Local)

JenWa: "Well... that tribe is pretty dangerous..."
Nathanael Al'Cairin: *Frowns down at the sleeping form under the bench*
JenWa: "Oh... do not mind her..." *She waves her left palm dismissively* "That hin can sleep anywhere, I swear..."

______________________________________________

The darkness, when the hin rubbed her eyes and looked to the sheer.... Nothingness that surrounded her, entrapped her, did
nothing at all but to greet her. Indeed, it did not greet her in the conventional sense. It merely welcomed her, with
a sense of want... and malice. And suddenly, the hin knew fear, in this very unwanted dream. Prayed it was a dream.

The hin took stock of her situation, almost immediately noting that, for one, she could not move a muscle below her neck. The
feeling of paralyzation was unnerving to her, as none of her previous dreams in her life involved this. Perhaps one. But that
was a special occurrence, certainly the criteria not fitting here. regardless, she could not move, and this, too, fed her
growing horror...

She was on a bridge, the sides of a canyon on each side of her. The only illumination came from the three gem stones on her
belt, shinning in rouge colors on the foreign architecture. The metal seemed to... consume the light her magical belt
created. Again, fear and recognition that this place, was a place she would never wish to visit 'wares...

"[e] Baradcol Natetk ... Metta?"

This is the Underdark

Puffs of steam could be heard around her (Breathing?), her neck and forehead trembling, the only parts she could
tremble with. Something was near by, close... A darkness befell all around her, nearing, fawning, covering her lithe form,
consuming her in one mighty gulp...

______________________________________________

And she awoke from under the covers of her bed, screaming and perspiring profusely, awaken, terrified and very, very much soiled...

[PensivesWetness]

The good life (5May06 10:38 PM Local)

She groaned a little as she craned her neck around the room, as she lay in silk comforts upon her old oaken bed. Flowers of many varieties that bloomed around Haven Hills were placed in decortive vases with loving care(Likely the children's contribution, bless thier little hearts), giving the old hin's bedroom, that feeling, the emotion that welled up in her old and failing heart.

Love...

It was mid morn, and all was quiet. Likely Kojima was outside tending the weeds so the home was quiet for a reason. The children where likely at school, learning the things hin children must, save little JennWah, still too little for school yet. The old hin smiled, thinking that the tottler was probably with her mother, watching, learning...

Not unlike how Emilia, Veriigabble and Kojima learned things...

Her eyes closed tightly, as that unwanted flash of pain flared through her body again. She fought, tooth and nail, the lossing fight against this agressor, too proud to admit defeat, too stubborn to know when she was already defeated. Not all battles leave such obvious scars...

Funny... that was a lesson Akania did not teach me, herself...

She simply suffured on, silently praying to Brandobaris for relief from pain, praying for her children and grandchildren, praying for the good life...

[PensivesWetness]

Awake the mother's bear (13May06 5:13 PM Local, edited for content 4apr07 7:49pm local)

Early afternoon in the local Eveningstar Inn, on The High Road of Northern Cormier...

Early afternoon in the local Eveningstar Inn, on The High Road of Northern Cormier...

Curled in the chair, we find the pink haired halfling known as Milliam, sleeping soundly after a good day's mischief, as her friend, the Sorceress of Mystra JenWa approaches quietly, already a mischievous smile on her own face as she hatched an evil plan...

'z.z..z.z.z.z.z.z.z.z' The hin slumbered on, curled in typical fashion (a hin sized ball), turned, cat-like in motion as her head is now facing up and arched, a smile breaking on her face as she dreamt. The woman begins to rummage in her pack, fumbling as she looks for a particular bottle. Soon she finds the bottle, containing a very special kind of ink and with a quill in hand, eyes the hin, grinning widely.

After observing her friend for a few moments, certain of her slumber, JenWa carefully draws a few expert strokes on the hin's face. Looking over the lines as they faded from view, she quickly puts away the quill and wraps the bottle back in her pack. Finally, with a happy sigh, she got up from the chair and walked over to the inn-keep...

After she purchased her meal and taking her seat, she holds the plate towards the sleeping hin as she shifts in her sleep, blowing the tender smells toward her, assuming she might awaken to typical hunger. 'It couldn't hurt', thought JenWa, since it has worked in the past. Nothing. just more snores and another rotation in the chair. Deep into sleep, the hin was by all appearances.

Which perhaps was good, as a certain little girl approached on tippitoes. She smiled when she sighted the bold and far more mature than her age, Persephone finally, upon setting her plate down with a hungry regard. The child, winked back and took both ends of the back of the chair, shaking it violently. "LOOK OUT! BEARS!"

Nothing. The hin snored regardless of the violence the chair incurred. It seems that the little girl did not know the proper means of awaking the hin. Persephone tried once more to awaken Millia from fear until JenWa explained Millia's ability to snore under foot of a army of Cormier Purple Dragoons… yet the hint of thunder could bring abstract fear and terror to her.

_________________________________________________

The hin and sorceress soon departed the Latherite church of The Morning Lord, later that afternoon, having escorted Persephone back. Millia's backpack was noticeably lighter, having finally delivered her gifts to Melissa, a child especially important to the little hin. Feeling content yet still possessing a hint of hunger (hopefully the inn keep will allow her back in!), the pair of adventurers marched back east.

It wasn't until they passed the fire side camp favored by thrill seekers that they found another fellow adventurer in the Elven Wizard, Valdur. His manners were typical, repressed, concealed and quiet. He calmly sat and read a book, a action almost expected of him as often as the hin had known him. Regardless, he was pleased as he would allow to see them and discussed events from both perspectives. into the waning sun~dusk...

The clouds were building up over them, though no hint of stormy weather was evident but it did obscure Selune and her tears in the skies to the east. JenWa kept looking towards the east and Millia, alternately, hardly able to hide her amusement. Valdur picked up the gesture and suspected some mischief but Millia was too preoccupied to notice. It wasn't until when the sun was touching the western woods and beginning to hide, that the plaintiff sound echoed the woods from the northeast, a sound that chilled Millia to her core.

ADM_Zelknolf : [Talk] A pained-sounding "honk!" echoes faintly from the northeast.

"...Yes, I suppose so." Pause, as the sorcerer looked north, then to Millia, who was already grimacing in fear, taking a tentative step towards the road. "I think I heard Max..."

The hin stopped and cupped her hands to her ears, a useless gesture as she strained her mind for that empathic link a master and familiar share, while Valdur's voice trailed with the watching of their pontiff gestures. "I have been studying the spells of the Zhent..." The elf paused as he too, took a moment to silently listen to the night.

"{Draconic}Shame if it were hurt... ", as the wizard, with a small smirk broke the silence. The hin gave him the most withering of stares wizards could trade each other, while JenWa gave Valdur a puzzled look. Another call, still pained and plaintiff sounded in echo. That was all that was needed to make the hin hustle off into the night, her friends following unsure in pursuit.

____________________________________

The semi circle of goblins argued, loudly and consecutively amongst themselves. The heart of the discussion was who would claim downing the 'Kill'. One goblin laid dead, his throat opened across and now violence may pore over once more, growls of anger echoing into the night. Only the shaman grumbling his discontent to this delay of their kill, kept things in line, his fowl magic making his skin glow...

it took all of the hin's self control, her own magic at her finger tips cackling for release, as she saw her fey fairy dragon familiar, Max'ural, crawling away from the gathering unnoticed and towards his mistress. His left wing pierced twice with shafts, he was downed from high in the air by arrows from the goblin marauders.

The goblins suddenly realized the fairy dragon had moved, their gazes searching, seeing the catch slowly fleeing. The shaman barked orders in his harsh tongue, and they moved to intercept it, to pierce it's body with a more terminate perch. It was then that they knew of terror. The hin rose up from the tall grasses not 15 feet from them, 5 feet from her fey. The last things the goblins saw was a vengeful hin, two taller shadows on the hill side beyond her, then nothing. nothing at all.

For as Millia's Darkness of Shari befell over the goblinoids, her hand where already moving, the precise hand inflections for Meredith's Greased Pig was already being performed, just as the twang of elven arrows echoed the wood. Valdur was notching another arrow as JenWa spoke arcane words and gestured the postures of Conjuration. With thunderous displacement of air, a ethereal dire wolf merged in the goblin's mist, within two paw steps, before grabbing and crushing the torso of the first helpless goblin soldier it could reach...

[e] Vengeance, indeed.

_______________________________

Millia was busy tending her familiar's injuries for the better part of the night as JenWa and Valdur sat at the fire, each working a metal spick with several vegetables and meats on them. The goblin clan, roving from the south apparently, had been wiped out to the man and Eveningstar could be relieved that a new threat proved temporary for the region.

Valdur delicately consumed his meal while JenWa chewed hers with diligence, looking over her shoulder as Millia finally joined them at the fire side. JenWa's look of concern changed to one of expectant amusement as Selune finally broke free from the clouds, the night illumination increasing and welcome. "Max'ural~Loves sleeps nows. Me thinks hi…. What funny, Jen-Jen?"

JenWa, after struggling with her mirth, finally fell forward in laughter as Valdur looked at the Halfling in a new (moon) light. His own normally dour demeanor was now joining the moment, since the hin's face, now exposed to the moon's illumination, high lighted all the swirls and curls and little smiley faces that had been carefully inked on her cheeks and forehead, all in mischief's name...

[PensivesWetness]

Mother's Day (14May06 1:09 PM Local)

Kojima was outside tending the weeds so the home was quiet for a reason. The children where likely at school, learning the things hin children must, save little JennWah...

Quietly she watched. It was pleasant a day today, the sun bright, warm, bringing life to the realms this highsun'ed day. The older woman, clad in a dirty day dress with lace frills, now soiled with day's toil of labor in the Watchful Mother's Green Earth. Slowly her spade pierced the dirt, toughened hands reached in, moved the material to the sides, cleared a spot. gently placed a pod, covered it...

JennWah blinked her soft brown eyes as she watched her mother work, quietly, patiently. She kneeled down, her own dress equally soiled of dirt and earth. 'Mah~Mah? you plant poppy, yes, Mah~mah?' Three blinks of big brown eyes to the woman that was her guidance, her teacher, her nose and arse wiper...

Kojima turned to regard her child, born 11 seasons ago, the pride and joy filling her heart. Then, with a smug smile and capricious gesture of her hands on her hips, she told her child, 'Nay Snuggle-ling... i plant Bloodroost this time. I hope to be able to make enough for Grandmother..."

She kept her smile on her face, for the sake of her daughter's joy. She couldn't tell her that is all in vain to save kojima's own mother. So she simply opened her arms wide, a easy enough gesture, and the little hin girl scrambled in a fury of dust and huggled her mother warmly...

Happy Mother's Day, Mary Ann... and Elenor...

[PensivesWetness]

Observations so astute (4June06 8:48 AM Local)

The hin huffed down the road as she crossed the river Delimbiyr, her large backpack hisses and growling in dislike with each hard pumping step. The Daggerford Bridge Guard was behind, her friend Loxaceles ahead of her somewhere along the road to the Abbot, Mykhal. She hated being late and her frantic pace showed her haste.

"Lo..lo...Loxy!", panted loudly ahead, the hin struggling for breath. The familiar, still riding in her backpack hissed, growled and overall complained. But she had to reach her friend. She didn't want to left behind. It sounded too much like fun…

Besides, it had been ages since she seen the old friend and Tyrant priest.
__________________________________________

The cat watched from the tree line, quiet and patient when he heard the hin barrel past down the lane south. 'Two legged cattlelope'. He licked his chops, his coarse tongue wiping blood from a previous kill from his lips as he took to chase...
___________________________________________
Loxaceles Minxmar was in good form and mood today, as she traveled south, intent on speaking with the Paladin Mykhal Abbotsgard of Tyr. Her travel mates, the Militia hin Meradoc Ryskin of the Daggerford Standing Militia and the renown bardic~Scald Regor Neistremmah, walked in equal step, the Orc-kin's huge girth towering over his diminutive mates.

"Millia... was sure she'd sleep through to the return trip, at the very least. But not now...", Loxaceles commented rather amused like at her friend's absence. Then, just as Regor was going to turn a phrase about hin factors of two, the woods and road behind them echoed with wild squealing...

"LO~XY!!!!"

All three folk turned with smiles to see a rapidly approaching dust cloud moving rapidly towards them, finally convalescing into the form of a hin in black, tanned deer helm and billowing cloak, and a huge backpack...

...and something else, tanned skin and predatory stare. Eyes narrowed, Meradoc was reaching for a arrow from his quiver as Loxaceles screamed out to her friend to duck...

Which was easy enough, as the hin known as Milliam, tripped uncharacteristically, her lithe form now flying in the air for 3 seconds before sliding on the dirt road. Something around her hissed loudly and something behind her growled as it leaped -over- the now prone hin, intent on the new foes in it's view. A poor plan, in review...
_________________________________________

The hin's three all huggled and dusted each other off, chattering in loud tones, clearly in the language of Halfling. The Cougar's arrow pilfered form was dragged to the side, well dead enough for all his troubles. What ever was in Millia's bag still hissed and bickered but the sight of her 'preposterous load of gear' did nothing but bring a huge smile to his large expressive face… "Millia….no?"

...until he frowned, false like in performance, as he dryly commented to himself, it occurring to him that he was now out numbered by hin by a factor of three: "What? Am I in Lurien again?"

The three hin laughed out loud to that dry comment, expecting such words from the famed bard of the oblivious and playwright of great renown. He shrugged and smiled as the pink haired hin crooked her arm and offered it to Regor, who took the offer and walked arm linked down the lane with the Halfling. The others gathered themselves and followed on towards Abbotsgard Hill...

[PensivesWetness]

Forced Evolutions (5Jun06 10:40 PM)

'OI, -your- heavy' grumbled the hin known as Keithler as he gently supported the legs of the elderly hin into bed. His wife of 12 years gave him burning glances towards him, but nothing like the brief looks of death the 'Old crow' gave the male.

Keithler, in his ever pleasant and unshakable demeanor, smiled, made a foppish bow to the bed ridden hin and left the room quickly, wife in close tow....

When they closed the door, both exchanged worried glances to each other. "The warder said soon, Kei. Soon. What do i tell the others? what do i tell the children?" The hin clasped her hands and forearms between her breasts in fret.

The man gave his wife a sympathetic smile, knowing full well her worries for her mother. "Kojima.... Her leg... that dark mark on her thigh. How she get that?"
____________________________________________________

It was bright skies when the hin got off the carriage, slowly and gingerly. The hin guards on patrol watched with some interest. She wore black clothing, keen and form fitting, a dark cloak and a large backpack. She thanked the human riding shotgun in the carriage and waved vigorously as it pulled away for its next leg to Triboar.

So she limped towards the gate. her stride difficult, her moves uneasy, as she had been maimed by some beast. When she was within a few steps of the guard's, she asked permission to enter Haven Hills. It was then, as her hood from cloak came down that they recognized her as Milliam, good friend to Mother Soppi Widenbottle, and fellow honored savior of Haven Hills.

With difficulty, the hin limped into the village, and onto her next career...
_______________________________
It was midnight, when the blinds to the room parted, just slight, barely a hint of breeze, when he came in. The dark shadows glowing around the individual, perhaps worn by him, perhaps part of him. The old matron hin opened her eyes and smiled weakly to the near divine shape before her. She knew him, she knew he would come for her.

The eyes close, the flash of pain across her chest, the moan of a old woman's plight, before she opened them again. her savior still there, his own concern, for a sliver second betraying his charming, devilish looks...

'Mah......mah..... Mahug-ggles.... oh.... Boril~Lah-loves...' The old woman stammered, tried to will her arms behind her, to rise on weaken limps to better face her lover... only to fail, miserably. he old croon began to sob, almost ready to beg for release from this pained earthly realm of existence.

'Oi oi oi, darlin. Ya time in pain is ove'ah, love.', the shadows spoke to her, his glib and irredeemable tone, still betraying the tone of worry, of love and affection he held for her. 'I promise long 'go i'd take you to the fields'.

He reached out to her right hand, black silk gloves that, when they touched old and brittle nail and flesh and bone, felt like exquisite pleasures and slowly pulled the hin matriarch upright.
'strange', was all the elderly hin could say, already the feeling of being old, frail, brittle was fading from her awareness. As if, the need was no longer there to take notice.

She felt, Yondalla's bosom, alive again, so full of energy. She gripped the hin shadow's hand even more tighter, as tight as she gripped long ago in the raptures of romance...

She slipped from her silken bed with the ease of enchanted youth, standing upright and tall, the two ethereal hin held each other tightly, one glowing of pure soft white, the other grays and blacks, both lovers smiling, knowing, feeling. 'Come gov..., The golden fields await ye'

'Yes, me love Boril Blum. Me says we goes, yes?' A rhetorical question, not needing an answer really, as the winds picked up a gust, hints of sweets and mischief almost palatable in the air...
___________________________________________________
Veriigabble, strong, quiet, defiant, held the large plate of food stuffs only because she loved mother too much to broke a argument with Kojima. Not that Emilia would help her, in any rate of discussion.

She lost to 'Rock, Paper, Sheers' 'fair 'n steeple' and thus could do little but help. So all three hin crept up the old steps, each step creeping and sagging from the weight, thus spoiling the silent approach they had hoped to achieve as they reached the top of the stairs and to mother's room.
Kojima, impatient this day, knocked three times, then three times more. 'Oi, you old tart! you 'wakes mum?'

Silence. Emilia sniffed and swore up and left, she smelt virgos and roses and blue~yums.

three more knocks, to no reply. three various worried expressions traded glances and the muscular hin man-handled the door knob open quickly and all three bolted into the room, flowers blooming in huge vibrate colors placed all over the walls, the corners, the chest and vanity.
'I didn't put this many potteries last time...?' was all Kojima could mutter, three hin woman jaws equally agape.

they then looked the bed, silk sheets of green, with 5 pillow cases of pink, each with the blue lovingly stitched symbol of a foot print on the center. the sound of clattering around them, as verii dropped the plate of breakfast foodstuffs in front of her roughly, spoons and milk, the worst spilt on the wood teak floor.

The bed was empty, save a old copper mug on a silver plate, the steaming contents of milk, as it was whiffing the air. Kojima was first to recover her wits and took the mug and sipped, to the horrified gaps of her siblings. 'Koji, NO!'

too late.

The hin sniffed the mug, sipped again, and snorted, wryly in her best middle age mirth. 'Yeap. bit sour. bourbon, too. just like how that old fart-knocker Muggles likes his beer.'

'where -is- mum's, Kojima?'

'A better place, Veriigabble. The Better Place'. A soft sigh and hand gesture of holy motions.

It is with very heavy heart, that i retire Millia. It may be a shock to some, some already had known my plans all a long. My recent misteps in WF only allowed me the plot hook to which to effect justification for this. This is not me leaving ALFA. This act is taken because of RL curcumstance, as soon, i'll be offline for a considerable amount of time. Likely come september, you won't see me until well into NWN2 in 2007. Deploying on ships, especially carriers does that. But i had a wonderful time here. possibly i might make a PC, if i have access to the net when i'm at school. possibly.

Non the less, i quietly depart active playing, to lurk, write and enjoy what you write. It does it that much for me....

and if your wondering, Millia will likely be NPCed, once i settle a few instances and clarifications for the prospect owners in TLR...

BTW, this goes into effect... probably the 13th of June, when i leave Oxnard with my bro to head home east. Nice way to start my road trip, on my birthday...

Salute!

[PensivesWetness]

Milliam Quicken Stoutfolk
Female Lightfoot Halfling Rge2/Brd4/Wiz4: CR 10; Small-sized humanoid; HD 2D6+4 plus 4D8+8 plus 4D4+8; hp 64; Init +3; Spd 20 ft; AC 18 (touch 16, flatfooted 15); atk +7/+2 melee (D4/19-20, +1 anchient elven dagger), +9/+4 ranged (D10/19-20, Heavy Crossbow) or ranged touch +7 (by spell); SA Sneak attack +1d6; SQ Bardic music, bardic knowledge+4, evasion, familiar benifits, locate traps; AL LG; SV Fort +6 Ref +13, Wil +10; Str 10, Dex 16, Con 14, Int 16, Wis 10, Cha 13. Height 3 ft. 6 in.
Skills and Feats: Appraise +5, Bluff +3, Climb +1, Concentration +8, Disable Traps +7, Heal +2, Hide +23, Intimadate +2, Listen +6, Lore +17, Move Silently +25, Open Locks +7, Perform +14, Persuade +2, Search +7, Set Trap +7, Speak Languages +5, Spellcraft +9, Spot +4, Swim +1, Tumble +13, Use Magical Device +9; Extra Music, Skill Focus: Perform, Stealthy, Still Spell.
Special Qualities: Bardic music: Countersong, fasinate, inspire courage+1, inspire competence.
Bard Spells Known (4/3/0; base DC 11+ spell level; arcane spell failure 15%) : 0-cure minor wounds, daze, flare, light, resistance; 1st-cure light wounds, expeditious retreat, mage armor; 2nd-eagle's spendur, fox's cunning.
Wizard Spells Known (4/4/3; base DC 13+ spell level; arcane spell failure 15%) : 0-acid splash, daze, detect magic, electric jolt*, flare, light, mend, ray of frost, read magic, resistance; 1st-burning hands, charm person, color spray, endure elements, expeditious retreat, grease, horizikaul's boom, ice dagger, identify, iron guts, mage armor, magic missle, magic weapon, negative energy ray, protection from alignment, ray of enfibblement, scare, shelgard's persistant blade, shield, sleep, true strike; 2nd-bull's strength, bear's endurance, blindness/deafness, cat's grace, continual flame, darkness, death armor, eagle's spendur, fox's cunning, ghostly visage, ghoul touch, invisability, knock, lesser dispell, see invisability.
Known Languages: Common, hin, gnome, elven, orc, sylvan & draconic.
Possessions: Book of legend, darken cloak, deer helm, elven boots, halfling's vestments, magnus guard, performer's ring, performer's sash, scarab of protection +1, shield of the whitestar, +1 anchient elven dagger, heavy crossbow
Max'ural:
Male Faerie Dragon familiar; CR 4; Small dragon; HD 4D12+4; hp 30; Init +8; Spd 30 ft (6 squres), fly 100 ft (perfect), swim 30 ft; AC 19 (touch 15, flatfooted 15); atk +8 melee (D4+1/19-20, bite); SA breath weapon, spell-like abilities; SQ Darkvision, immunity to all magic sleep-like effects and paralysis, improved evasion, low-light vision, scent, spell
resistance 18, water breathing; AL CG; SV Fort +5 Ref +8, Wil +7; Str 13, Dex 18, Con 12, Int 15, Wis 17, Cha 16.
Skills and Feats: Bluff +6, Hide +11, Listen +7, Lore +6, Move Silently +11, Perform +10, Persuade +10, pick pockets+8, Sence Motive+7, spot+7 Swim +2; Improved Intiative, Weapon finesse.
Special Qualities: Breathweapon(SU): 20 ft cone of euphoria gas, Will-save DC 15 or dazed for D6+1 rounds. Improved evasion(EX): Take half or no damage on reflex saves. Spell-like abilities: At will-Dancing lights, detect magic, ghost sound (DC 13); 1/Day-charm monster (DC 17), entangle (DC 14), glitterdust (DC 15), invisablity (DC 15), major image (DC 16), obscuring mist; 1/ every 3 days-animate objects, mind fog (DC 18), project image (DC 20), summon nature's ally I; 1/every 2nd month-commune with nature. caster level 12th. Skills: a faerie dragon has a +8 racial bonus to swim skill checks to perform some special act or avoid a hazard. It can always choose to Take 10 on a swim check, even if distracted or endangered. It can use the run action while swimming in a straight line.
Known Languages: Common, hin, elven, sylvan & draconic, can converse with any animal.

Many a tale starts with pain and misery, and the tale of how one little hin faced her world is no different. Milliam Quicken Stoutfolk grew up in the bustle of Baldur's Gate, her familiar indentured servants to a well-to-do merchant clan.

Her youth was typical, experimental and problematic for a future handmaiden of misadventure (perhaps the most famous was her choice in tea cups, with a cursed chalice, one that caused her natural brunette hair to turn pink). when fates grew dim in her late teens for the family, the three sisters of Akania fled east, far to a simply logging and farming frontier town called Dragondale.

She grew up and adventured their in the foothills and forests under the earthspur mountains, eventually forced back to Baldur's Gate where she really began to adventure. from stopping evil wizard undead to defending the forest glades of the cormanthor, Milliam has always been loyal and steadfast.

She acquired her familiar in Triboar (or the Ranger's camp of the Myrwood, depending on whom you ask) in her early days of dabbling with mage craft. A typical faerie dragon of utter mischief and defiance, Max'ural remains loyal to his birth right (depending on whom you ask the tale) as a dire goose-ling.

Milliam retired from adventuring after suffering a grievous leg injury, taking the offer her friend and fellow faithful of Yondalla, Mother Soppi widdenbottle, to pursue mage craft fully, as well as providing for the village of Haven Hills in goods and magical trinkets. She eventually raised 7 children and will have many, grand children to crone about in her later years. No one knows who the father was (one may alledge the hin willimac, others the fiend 'Muggles' or even the more so famous Pokk...) and Milliam never said, content to raise her children and grand children by herself, just like her mother before her...

Stats reflect her highest level achieved. It was too much hassles to rewrite this, since dying in WF was a feared occurance, towards retirement...

[Zakharra]

I'll miss reading the Millia stories. I enjoyed them very much and am saddened that the happy go lucky hin is gone.

[Mick]

I remember S'ril meeting Millia back in WD so long ago and me telling you that I wish she came with subtitles. She never outgrew the need for them, and for that I am glad.

Well played.

[Tynndahl]

I , for one, will miss the hin.
Millia-
The first PC I ever met "live" on the streets in waterdeep. Alone, confused, having not played a DnD computer game since the 90's; Millia took me under her arm and showed me the city.
My first impression was that i have found myself in a game of mad,possibly insane gamers.
The giggles, that came from Millia's mouth as we traveled up the high road, and the incessant banter, led me to think i was about to be led down a dark alley, and meet my end of my first PC quick.

(Shug Hammerfell, the dwarf, had a secret crush on her - His undelivered love letters to Millia being read , then devoured, by under-educated grassy plain Orcs, after they had hacked the poor dorf to pieces.)

Also,
By far, the stories produced by the creator behind Millia. And my insistance on the author to become published, and the author insisting the brother is the writer in the family.

Have a great summer PW. Ill miss the stories, which kept me alive in days of vaultlessness and server downage's.
but let us know if you intend to publish. I for one will buy at least 20 adv. copies of the adventures of Millia. Seriously.

All the Best!

Tynndahl

aka- Banu Softclaw

[Brokenbone]

Millia was definitely a high octane character, certainly left an impression!

I'm confused though as to whether the idea here is that there's been a retirement after a brush with death? (Or a rez?)

Well anyhow, very memorable stuff.