Legends of the Pink Clan

[PensivesWetness]

Spades (3Feb06 6:52 PM Local)

The shovel tore into the soft Cormyrian dirt, the accompanying labourous grunt quickly trailing the tool as it scooped another morsel of earth from the ground. It cut a worm in two, the creature's empathic screach of terror and angish falling upon deafened ears.

The old man, dirty, tired, bitter, paused for a respite, as he marveled the hole he had dug for it's future oocupant, a hin sized cherry oak coffin, stained dark brown and tan in the waning afternoon light. With forrowed brow and the quick whip of his brow of grim and sweat, again the spade saught purchase in Chantea's soil.

He didn't know who was buried in the casket, all too familiar with this particular chore to even desire to know, his spade finding more purchase. 'Sometimes business is too good', his wife would have said, dead her self 12 long years ago. The old man misses her so...

As another of Chauntea's earthen agents, one being then violently two, again screamed unknowningly, the undertaker's work was watched afar, by others. He ignored them dispassionitely, knowning far to well, the look, of anger and sorrow, not wanting to ask them 'How she die?' or 'who'd kill a innocent lass?' He knew enough about adventurers to understand these feelings, they likely felt... and the very human need to get even.

Another grunt. Another thrust. Another insect dies to his spade, seeking purchase in the EarthMother's cold, silent grace....

[PensivesWetness]

Tip and Chase (An OAS Tale) (6Feb06 8:54 PM Local)

Tervale, the Inn. The 'follower of Wood Lady' was walking down from his room upstairs when a fast moving blur on the snow and grim covered floor, dashing about. His pause, as his eyes registered disbelief for a moment as a grey and white badger, no

bigger than a large house cat, scittered about the teek wood planks of the inn's main hall.

The bold beast, mostly unnoticed by the fairly drunken partioners of sin, wandered about, his nails clicking on the floor.

Rolan of the Pard watched with a air of amusement, the beast nibbling on objects, testing thier ediblity it seems. A sofa was first to be gnawed on, which the badger prompt gagged.

A chair leg was next, and again the natural gag reflex (mindful, it was argumentative if the oak or years of stained ale the true cause). This continued for short time and the druid's amusement grew...

The head head-cracker and bouncer, a cheerful orc-kin named 'Urk Bonesnap' was watching too, especially when the large rodent

moved to inspect his boots. A few sniffs was all the badger performed before suddenly and violently vomiting on the orc-kin's
steel boots.

"Yuck!", the guard growled out, as the badger scampered around a corner, out of sight. As Urk shook his boot, trying in vain to shed some of the pink bile off, Rolan's grin was full, bright and evil, highly amused now. "Heh heh..... Quaint."

As the orc-kin continued his complaints, the badger peeked his furry head around the corner, eyeing the druid finally.

Roland's mirth was building, perhaps to his first honest laugh in a long time as the beast scurried over, sniffed his foot...
and bit his toe.

The door slammed open, causing a torrent of cold air to blast into the inn's entryway and the badger scrambled out into the cold under the feet of a female elf, who jumped into the air, to avoid having her danty shoes ruined. Urk's harsh chuckles ruined Rolan's mood then, as he mulled the badger's insult to injury.

"I believe i am going to make myself a cap... or some shoes." His jaw shifted left to right as he spoke, malice in his voice, indeed....

__________________________________________________________________________

The bitter cold greeted Roland with little fanfare, as he simply ignored it's incidious caress, his vision already searching for a trail of the badger's passing. He wandered around the inn, sighting spray marks in the snow but determined they were from Tamerald's cat, Lavender, (Another animal he wanted to kill but for entirely different reasonings) altogether.

The badger kept his wanderings, a game of cat and mouse between the beast and Faith of beast, and Roland continued to follow, trading grins for growls. As the Badger snuffled about in the snow scant feet from the druid, it was then that a shadow appeared in the snow behind him.

The elf maid, Sl~Tel~quessir, possibly, watched him with a baffled expression. Clearly she was confused, blinking furiously fast. 'Perhaps...'

"Is that badger..... yours?" Roland's tone was neutral, probing for insight, but honest in intent. The Badger, now near the main gate, was busy burrowing to safety, out of sight. The Wild Elf looked up to Roland, her voice edged with fear and bewiddlerment.

"I do not know badger. What it means, this word?" Roland shook his head, at least certain that the beast was not her's, companion or minion at least.

The gate groaned in the wind as the off going gaurdsman struggled to open it, before nearly lossing his balance when his left foot dipped into the burrow of the badger, causing Roland to smile involentarily.

The Elf maid watched him, with suspicion clear in her face, before sudden surprise replaced it, as she looked down (as did Roland) but the cause, the badger's nipping, was already fleeing the scene.

"It bites me." The elf muttered matter-of-factly, spitting as Roland sneered in delight with his carefully chosen retort, dryly spoken then. " That is a badger.... or a future pair of shoes if you desire". His smile, white as snow, broad indeed.

At that moment, an odd pair of fools, one hin, the other human exited one of the merchants hovels and wandered over to them.

"This is not your pit. This bah jer? Then eets wild animal fo cors." mewed the elf, her tone assuming the badger was in fact, Roland's. But then she looked around, suddenly confused. ""Where ees thees place?"

He began his comments glancing at the elf but as the last of the air left his lungs, he looked down upon the hin, 'ware in his watchful gaze. "Hardly my pet. Hin... good eve..."

"Evening... There's a strange animal in town. It tried to bite me, While I was round the side of the inn." He placed his

hands on both sides of his belt before pointing down to his left boot. The Human, equally causing 'ware to Roland was quiet, content to look over to the main gate as a lump of dirt mushroomed up, and the dasterdly badger emerged.

"Tell me, where ees thees...... I know you, yes?" The female elf commented questionly, her furled brow dark but Roland

already gave her only passing regard as he turned to the hin fully. "i keep hearing him, my future slippers to be... Care to help me, hin?"

Both the hin and human snorted and chuckled, saying nothing else and Roland turned back towards the confused elf maid (who was mouthing out the sylibles for the word Sleepers) and gave her a haunting half glance. "Darling? do you desire your slippers.... fluffy?"

Again, dark chuckles from the odd couple and the elf made too this upon herself to smile and ask the hin, again questionly, "
You can tell me where ees thees place?" All three men simply blinked, unspeaking and she in turned grumbled and grinded her teeth in frustration.

"Can you hear? Where ees thees place?" Roland turned, totally ignoring the irrational elf female and her seeming growing irritated glances looked to each man in turn, before sweeping her arms in a wide arc.

The hin finally ask her, questioningly. "Talking to me? You speak strangely funny lady." His companion, still silent, still observant, still a potential foe...

"I am speeking with all. I speek Common. You breeng me to here?" Her eyes pans across the faces of all three men, then.

The hin, later Roland found was non other than Perum Teage, gave the elf a look of meat on a stick then, disinterest written

in stone on his face. "Your accent is strange then. And Your weird." In one breath, he turned to his companion, already writting off the elf as no consiquence and asked him, "Want to go patrol?"

It was this time, that Roland finally caught sight of the Badger, cleverly hidden under a pine tree and his smile grew as he stepped away from all three, paying them no mind at all. "ah....... there you are..."

Alue began to grind her foot into the snow, frustration showing. "I... I am Alue. No weird. [WE] You humans are of no help." But the hin and Human were already heading to the gate as she blurted out finally, the words finally intself. "I know you. You breeng me to heer. You come weeth drow. Who you are theen?! He come weeth drow!"

Ronan, stopped in his tracks, grew greatly annoyed at the Wild Elf's accusatory tone but more concerned as the hin and human paused as well, as the human known as Wino finally spoke, having turned at first mention of drow. "Perum wait".

Both hin and human turned and regard Roland in a new light, hands now in reach of peace nots on weapons as Alue pointed vigorously towards the druid, in fright (though it was untold if her fear was genuine or not) and Perum took challenge then. "Explain yourself then. We are not drow friends here."

"i desire.... shoes.... fluffy..... warm shoes...." Clentched teeth, the badger was only 10 long strides away...

Perum, hardly a poster child for ethics, sneered back, "I'll give em too you for your burial if'n you don't explain yerself."

"Oi, i agree. I believe he asked you to explain yourself" Wino, clearly the lap dog, was first to cross his arms in defiance towards Roland then, and act that caused a small bundle of nerve endings to rise on his brow and throb.

"I serve...... The Wood Lady.... bother me not of drow...."

His bluff, evidently was enough, for he stormed off, following the fleeing bagder with little interferance from either of the three parties then...

________________________________________________________________________________

In the near dawn light, after several hours chase, Roland gave up. The creature had simply disappeared on him, the tracks vanished after the bagder seemingly climbed a oak tree. He looked up, admiring the sky line before he turned around and headed back to town, all the while unware of being observed fro afar.

The Dwarf, child of Selune, grey skined, muscled, and partially bald, watched Roland with slight interest before slipping away deeper into the woods. With Sune's coming rays, the much changed dwarf had much to do, much to do indeed....

[PensivesWetness]

Log Entry (12Feb06 9:51 PM Local)

The written passage in lithe feminine Elvish runes, in the hin's well worn and vast of knowledge-ful journal, glows from the sweat and tears written on the faded parchment...

[e] I returned from the cave~Portal with the recovered child of Lathander, Melissa, save and sound. The Paladin of the Dead, Nicha, the Druid~Nature Faith*, Bron, The mighty High Priest Bital of dwarven Faith*, Mystra's child, JenWa and fellow Whitestar Vilmar tracked Melissa to a magical portal NorthWest of Tyrluk in the High Horns planes. We formulated a plan, stuck to it and succeded in finding the child. She sleeps now, back at the church, questions to why she travelled alone, to Tyrluk and beyond, still a bafflement to my senciblities.

The bandits we battled died to a man, including three pups with a white flag of truce, only to end up soking it in blood when they tried a foolish gamble. There will be no second chances for any bandits the next time we fight them. The only bad.... judgement was when i cast Melic's Burning Hands into the living quarters, incinerating the place. I was scolded for my rash actions but i have been seithing with anger since learning that this activity has been under the aegis of the Priesthood of The Vaunted.

Bitter memories of hated Natham from Dragon Dale well up in my throat. I still remember that dark time in my life... Enough. JenWa calls me and i am hungry. Burning bandit three sheets to the whips is demanding work!

Signed, Milliam Fon Lu Quicken Stoutfolk, Lorehin, Whitestars of Shadowdale (on Assignment)

The hin finishs her work, blows on the ink to dry it then jets out the door to her rented room, growling from hungry pangs, indeed....

[PensivesWetness]

A typical day at the AC DMR... (14Jul05 9:49 PM Local)

This is old, not sure if i posted it here but i did post it on The Vast (to no replies what so ever ) originally. Enjoy this innane sequence and jab at The California DMV...

Sam Qwestle had worked at the Department of Magical Registers a long time. A very long time, indeed. He lived thought two kings (Oh Mystra, Praise King Azoun IV!), the sacking of Arabel, the times of troubles, the Ghazneths and Nalavarauthatoryl the Red.

And today was his last day to work for this day and his career as a whole. He would finish his shift, enjoy a small party in his honor then retire to his birth home of Wheloon. Life was good, indeed...

'Sam, take this next register, will ya? i'm swamped with this convention of Thayans showing up...'

Sam nodded to his friend, no feeling one bit bored. Anything is better than registing Thayans, the old man thought to himself. 'blind you in paper with their legalize'. He took a deep calming breath through his nostrils and called out the numbers with professional skill and tenor.

'Number A-C-S-D-zero-seven-seven-nine-A-one-three, from Shadowdalesland. I will see your request now.' firm words full of conviction. Sam registed hundreds of wizards in his day at the DMR, this shouldn't be any different, he thought as some rose up from the chairs in the lobby, a hig pitched squeek of delight could be heard, causing his brows to rise. A child Mage?

The person that appeared at his desk, no more than 3 and quarter royal inchs in height by his guess and dressed in well crafted 2 ton white and light grey leather armor, annonced her presence with a quip filed with bubbly delight and mischievous excitement, to which the man, who served 39 years in the service of the Purple, or rather, his stomach, growled. hin. Torm's left testes, why is it always hin?

'Me reporting as ordered sirrrrrr!'

Sam the DMR man: Hello, miss... *looks at the paperwork* Quicken Stoutfolk...

Millia Loud Mouth: Me Milliam Fon Lu Quicken Stoutfolk, sir *giggles*

StDMRm: Yes. Miss Quicken Stoutfolk, it seems *looks again* you wihs to register with the Comrmyr Department of Magical Registers?

MLM: Me does, yes sir, me does, yes *Giggles*

StDMRm: hmm.... *looks again* your religion is hin, faith is the Scampleton.... Scampleton, Miss?

MLM: Me worships Brandobaris, Master of Stealth, yes sir, yes *Giggles* him that one that *gestures the realm famous hand gesture of 'Jiggy', that causes Sam's brow to arch even higher* get it with Tymora, yes.... [h] but me no sure if knee pads used...

StDMRm: .... Anyway, you wish to be allowed to practice magecraft within the providences, stewardships and lordtowns of Cormyr, yes Miss Quick Stout? May i call you that, miss?

MLM: *She nods quickly* Me Millia but that fine, as well *giggles* yes me is practicing wizzy, yes, sir, yes *Giggles again, causing Sam to mutter a soft pray in Celestial*

StDMRm: Good enough. now, as a rule, the practice of mage craft is simply enforced here in the land of the purple. we has simple, common sence rules put into effect that governs the use of the weave, here. One, you can not cast enchantments that affect or redress folk, fey or animals without prior authorization form number A-C-G-J-K-one-one-two-seven-six-six, approval to cast enchantments and presuasives on the general public. *the hin nods* Two, you can not summon using summoning or channeling metaphysics greater demons, devils, very bad cranky cromatic dragoni, fey larger than a horse, the Tarraque, Elminster's Mother or any currently dead greater gods not on The Steel Regent's Mid Winter's Eve gift and card list. Do you have any questions, Miss Quicken Stoutfolk?

MLM: *The hin, her jaw dropping in a pile at her feet, merely mewed in honest curiosity* What is Tarraque? *blinks, twice*

[PensivesWetness]

Random rants, Originally posted by Saxjamm (4/2/04 6:44 pm Time Zone Unknown)

Next time, on Dragon Dale: Special Victim's Unit:

The scene opens with police lights flooding the Breeding Well. Detectives are patrolling the mess around the well, holding hankerchiefs to their noses. Karn, town guard, walks up in his full armor to hear the report.

KARN the LG Dorf: Oi! What 'ave we 'ear!? Nudder murderin' at the Dale?

DEPUTY: Yep. This one's a five year old female, about 3 feet tall, blonde hair. 's been identified as a Sara Addams. Apparently she was beaten down with a Crappie.

KARN: *Karn sips his Double Latte from Starbucks Cafe* Axes high!

DEPUTY: ...

Next scene, Timo is seen running from a horrible gnome in the Mhyrwood Glades. He's screaming, finally tripping to the ground.

TIMO: No, I swear, I don't have your drugs. I swear. I just wanted to get back at my father, because I'm an angsty teenager who just can't get enough love and attention.

BUDO Earthfiend: Mork dork?

The authorities and Karn, now sipping a Triple Latte, give chase.

KARN: Stop. This storyline sucks. Axes high!

BUDO: ...

The end.

thank you for your time.

If you don't want SVU... how about this idea? Why not have him steal things from Ralbon or something. And in the panic, I don't know... fight, take Ralbon hostage. Or is that too akin to ye olde television as well. I can't help it.

[PensivesWetness]

Workin' for a living (25Feb06 9:56 AM Local)

Predawn! The sleepy Highhorn gates open up for a beleagered hin, tired from a long walk from the west... just as it begins to rain. she grumbles and flicks open her bumpershot, the fabrick a vibrant blue and green in the light of the small fires buring for light and warmth around her. She is here for one thing, as she starts her wanderings around, asking the first predawn citizen she meets: Work.

"'scue me?" The hin peeks from under her umbrella~Bumpershot to the obviously drunkard male.

The man, his breath hinting of brandy, almonds and a unusual smell, (collone? Perfume?) raised an eyebrow... before wandering off, muttering.

"Pink haired hins... waaaay too much to drink, Phil."

The hin grumbled some more, and continued her trek, her goal, her search, eventually entering one of Arabel's market regions, the smells of fresh fruit, raw and magically chilled fish mixing in with the morning rainfall. It was only a matter of time, before he awoke...

Herney Sigers: [Talk] Seafood, fresh fish, come and get it here.. best prices in Arabel

When she walked pasted the fish stores, her baggage, huge on her back, emited a growl and hiss, clear tone of demanding understood in it's tone.

[Dra]Deny me or pay. Feed the great Dire Goose....

Herney Sigers, fish merchant, heard that growl and hissing too, looking very causios at the hin at first when she approuched, appraising her, while secreting thinking of all the hin on the Purple's wantefd lists. He could recall nothing of a pink (Pink?) haired hin so relaxed his gaurd, a little, when she mewed her request.

"uh..." Softing coughing and a snort, hint of allerges. "uh...." A soft sigh. "'scue me?"

"Looking to buy some fish, miss?" The hin begins to nod affirmative but her bag lurchs and makes her stumble a little before she turns her head and hisses a retort behind her. "[Sly] Max love! Behave.... [com] Uh.. me sorry..."

"You... might want to find a place to sleep that liquor off, miss."

A hair slight Frown emerges. "Me no drunks, thank you.... me looking for.... adventure guild? yes?" Her baggage emits a sharp hiss of dislike and she adds: "yes.... you have sliced salmon?"

Herney rubbed his left hand on a well stubbled chin. "Adventure guild? lk] You mean the mage guild?" The hin nods quickly enough. "Oh, that sort of guild... 'fraid Arabel doesn't have much need of those places." He smiles then, adding: " 'course I have sliced salmon. Fresh from the Starwater River, missy."

She sighs a little and glances to her coin purse, mentally counting coins. "Mage guild... yes.... you have sliced salmon? Me takes that. me take 1/2 lb..... "Her baggage hisses again, but in seeming delight, now. "3/4 pound, please?"

The man nods, and turns to check through his stores of fish, producing a few thick slices, as he lifts the wrapped bundle up above his head. "Eh... this feels about right." He then moves to the hin and looks ready to hand over the wrapped fish to her... "2 Lyons, Missy"

It was then, just as the hin gave him his two gold coins that the creature arose into sight, from the back of the hin's baggage. The retilian head, green scales of emerald pure because of the rain, small of shape but dimond siloetted, looked over his misstress locks and the bumpershot's blue and green fabric, to the suddenly unnerved merchant's widening eyes...

"Thankee, mis.....?"

Obvious at first to the man's distress, she mewed out and turned around 180 degrees to him. "slip it bag, Max will get it, yes? [sly] Say permissions, Max my love....."

The fey watched the man, his head arched downward, eyes narrow and sharp, malice hinted or feigned in his posture before he raised his stout and began to slllllllllllllllllllloooooooooooooooooooooooowwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww open his mouth revealing rows of sharp teeth.

"HOINK!"

Herney took a step back, has he was asailed by the fey's breath, reaking of, oddly enough, apple pie. "B... best have that thing put away. I... I'll c-call the guards..."

The hin, turned her head towards Herney and calmed him down with soft words. "Him no bites, him slow close when you put fish there. [syv] Max'ural, BE~Have! [com] Him why me buys fish. him like cat!"

Her soft giggle did more than manage to calm the man down then. "I... um... alright, missy...

The fey emits on more gurggled honking tone, his eyes wide and furiously blinking until the merchant gently placed the meal, wrapping and all, into the maw of the beast. And the fey does he is told amazingly before sllllllooooooooooowwwwwwwwwwwwwly dropping from sight into her baggage.

"Damn crazy things."

She giggles once more and thanks him, endlessly before slipping away. Herney merely shook his head at the weirdness that departed under the blue and green bumbershot and large baggage carried. he looked to the skies then, as the rain picked up a notch. "Getting bad. better lower the awnings more..." Just as he reached the ropes to control the pitch of his booth's protective covers, a clap of thunder roared in the city, within a mile, from the tone and intensity.

...and not too seconds later, a equally loud howl of fright could be heard, soon seen as he witnessed that pink haired hin, bumpershot flinked closed as she scrambled back up from the lane south and headed east, small legs pumping on the wet cobblestones, her face wide in fear...

[PensivesWetness]

devil in the details (3Mar06 8:47 PM Local)

The blind halfling of Loudwater smiled and nodded her head, almost imperceptibly to her friends as they left her to her privacy at the fountain, as Sune began to set behind the tall worn walls of Arabel, one windy eve. Two hin, one a black leather clad lass with dark tanned skinned and oddly pink hair, the other dressed in white shirt, black slacks, a mop of messy black hair and cigar at the ready, marched towards Amy's Inn. They had business to attend to.

The door to the inn opened and after skuffing their boots on the well tredded upon door mat, the pair made thier way to a set of cozy chairs, made of thatch, oak and soft suple leather. The male hin, cigar in between his middle and ring fingers on his left hand, took a seat and patiently waited from his female friend to sit down herself before getting to the business at hand, that she had contacted him in the first place.

"Alright... What is this all about?" Wilimac Dabble, Rogue, adventuror, hero looked with reserved concern to his friend of many moons, as she gave the space around her suspicious glances, perhaps oddly parnoid. His interest peaked at this odd behaviour from the female hin, known to the realms as Milliam...

"Me need aid from local Thief guild..." No mirth fills her expression, clearly only worry and concern, could anyone decern from her tone and posture as she spoke.

Willimac's fluffy eyebrows roses in surprise to this request, equally out of charactor to his beliefs and understanding of this loyal female hin of Brandobaris. "What For, Millia?"

"Me have note from Curse Mage Lady..... it map... and note.... but.... she injure... so map messy and hard read...." Wilimac nods and Millia continues, even more meekly now...

"Me no trained for this... or have magic to over comes..." A pregaunt pause, sharp glances left and right before adding, with determination. "And me no wants offical knows.... knows..."

The next sound hear with the exhale of wind, as the Male hin whistled sharply at this request, the burning cigar dancing and wiggling between his fingers, before he leaned to his left in the chair to be more comfortable.

"You want the guild try and translate it?" Three terse nods from Millia and Wilimac rubbed his chin with his free hand. "Huh... well... I usally dont associate with such shady members of sociaty..." A sutle grin forms on his expression then. "but I might know where to find them..."

Wilimac's agreement to assist her sent her spirits souring, though she only would show this with her biting of her lower lip, not quite a smile but one of hope. Her previous attempts to desern the note had lead to failure so far. "me glads.... me.... Me no clue where asks...."

Wilimac took a drag of his cigar and puffed a large, grey expanding ring into the air before giving Millia a cautioned look. "Its better that you dont ask too many people. they might find you." He wags his index finger at her then. "If you get my meaning."

The doe-like expression in her jade green eyes clued in to Wilimac that indeed she did not consider that, lasting longer than the brief sence of alarm she felt and express in how she looked away from him then. "me no like this... but.... me no think other way figure outs note..."

"It will cost us, you know that?"

To wilimac's surprise and mild relief, Millia nodded, admiting that at least that poteniality was considered in her wayward planning. "Me knows, guesses..... but it worths it. Me hopes..."

Wilimac gave her a reassuring smile and with a devil-may-care finally puff of his now near spent cigar, before pushing the end into a burn mark in his chair, left by other, previous cigar smokers. "I dont think this will be as ugly as you think it is... Might even be fun..."

Both servants of Brandobaris then shared a giggle, excitement building, filled with promise as they laid into the planning of their intentions, the Devil in the details after all...

[PensivesWetness]

Ships and Pirates (8Mar06 10:16PM Local)

It was going on sundown when the hin left Eveningstar and headed west on the High Road. Days of vast investigative work had netted her nil about 'Billy' or the Cursed Woman, Billy's 'Mother'. The Map would be ready in a ten-day, the scribe back in Arabel had said. Soon she would have to return east. But today, she was hunting for someone...
_____________________________________

The hin, mop of black messy hair, bid the town of Tyrluk goodbye, his business concluded and headed east towards home. The forest colors, greens, blues and greys, looked wonderful in Sune's fading light. 'The latherites are probably doing dusk services by now', he thought to himself. With his beloved cigar between his fore and index fingers on his left hand, he set out into the tall grasses of Western Cormyr...
_____________________________________
The Orc-kin growled contently to himself as he swiftly moved cross country south towards the High Road. He looked to the sun, semi hidden from the forests around Tyrluk, and sighed, accepting the fact that he is going to be late. He considered going by the bird, but after that run in with a huge metal golem in the wilds which caused him to use his supply of Bottles of Jumping and Climbing, he had no safe way to traverse down the sheer walls of the High road. The road was only a mile out now, and he'd make good time enough. If his partner was angry at his tardiness? So be it...
_____________________________________
As the hin continued farther west down the High Road, her glances careful ahead of her as well as along the high ridge line to her north, she stopped then as she thought she saw a familiar form in the grass approuching skulkery.

The semi hidden form, after stopping itself, alerting her to it's perception skills as well. They traded squints for a brief scant moment before the hiddenish form blurted words, not of malice and threat, but mirth and sardonism.

"Your coin or your life Hin!" A wider beaming grin emerged over his smirk when the familiar worn deer helm popped up not twenty paces from him, soft giggles that comfirm that is indeed Milliam Quicken Stoutfolk, of Shadowdale that he 'faces'.

"Oh... Its you. Anyway, your money or your life", Willimac Dabble blurted out again with a smile, to which Millia flipped her face plate up and rasberried back in retort.

As Willi started moving forward to be close to his beloved friend and fellow 'Hand of Misadventure', Millia's eyes widen in alarm as the Orc-kin marched up along the High Road behind them, his smile full of emotion and evil, sarcastic to a point.

"What a fine suggestion." As both hin turned fully to face the huge bandit, his axe held over his left shoulder comfortably on top quality studded leather. "That coin or your life part."

"Thats quite the axe", His sigh wet, "you have there..." Willi was alive in though looking over this threat, guaging his ability, as well as the size of his axe blade, observations the orc-kin took as a compliment, his evil smile even wider now.

"Oh, aye. See, it's what I use for my work." The large axe shifted shoulders and the bandit managed to make it look... bigger, the action making the female hin prone to rash action, as willi calmly as he could spoke back. "Keep in mind i'm not wanting a fight..."

The female flipped her face plate down as she nervously stammers out to willic in halfling chirps, "[h] Grease, Willi love

She then started moving her fingers, starting the spell for Groaf's Greasepile, a common battle spell would cast. The orc-kin didn't move, didn't react when millia's leather bound at a important pose and her spell fizzled.

He finally did look her as a yelp of shock muffled out from her helm and the orc-kin narled thumb rubbed up and down the shaft of his weapon. "Let's keep it in common, cutie. I get mad when I don't understand what people are saying."

Millia, suddenly hugely frightened, started to back pedal into the short rock wall behind her and the orc-kin side stepped a astonished willi to tower over the female, relishing his intimitory presence now. "Now... This can be over very quickly in two ways. Way one, I get coin. I leave. Way two, I get mad. I take coin. I leave."

Willi, turned his hand on his weapon hilt, his rised eyebrows in alarm to this turn of events, stammered out, "Easy n-now... No h-harm done..."

That only made the bandit even more happy, but he was apsolutely beside himself when Millia blurted out, in coughing tones. "[orc] Leave us or Die, Orcling"

She tried her best to build up her spirits, as the orc-kin looked down upon then bellowed out a powerful belly laugh. "And are /you/ going to make that happen, little miss?"

The groan from willi solidified the bandit's mirth then and there. "Of course, I might not /kill/ you. I could think of all SORTS of uses for a cute little thing like you."

No choice. Millia knew she had to act NOW. A hand wiggle, the pinch of coal between her fingers and she cried in alarm in her native tounge to her fellow hin, "uh... uh.... CRAP! [h] D-dark...!"
_____________________________________
Instantly the forest was dark, a turn of events not to the bandit's like. scrambling around he heard the hin move, dashing off into the magical zone to which he tried to follow. how ever, his left foot found purchace under a broken log and he barreled over face first in a puddle of mud. As he lifted himself up, a slew of long strung obscenities from his dripping face.

Grabbing his axe finally, he crawled out of the magical zone of darkness, hate and anger his features. "That wasn't smart of you two." he kept moving, searching, the slime dripping down his features, growling out louder now. "Because know I'm going to track you down."

He moved at a fast clip. angered at being even more late, and fruitless to his efforts, he hollered out into the wood, "I'll be drinking from your skulls!"

No reaction. The woodlands would give up thier hidden charges so easily it seemed, making the bandit that more irate. "Sure, you hide now. Don't have an ounce of chivalry, do you little man?", The Orc-kin growled more to himself than his 'foes'. "Will be nice when I'm ravaging that cutie you were with."

Shadows clasped hands and squeezed, not so easy to take the bait, watching the bandit as he moved east finally, as he crested out of sight. It would be a hour before they moved, two shadows silent and swift. They were two ships meeting in the night and neigther could ill afford another encounter with pirates...

[foaloke]

Love it, as usual.

[PensivesWetness]

Quips (16Mar06 6:06 AM Local)

Millia was discussing her currently turned-in map to the Arabel City Cartogopher with the Dwarf Priestess Faenor Bital, outside a little eatery just inside Arabel's East Gate…

Faenor Bital: "ya wish company? I know bits of mappins an such, so no merchant try tricks ye...."
Millia Quick Stout: Nodding once, briskly she adds, "Yes ma'am.... no idea where Willi ats..... but we prepay for work so...."

FB: A brief pause as she pounders Millia's choice of words... "ye prepay?" The hin grins widely to that and slings out her elbow wide in gesture to the dwarf, as Bital suddenly laughs aloud as she takes her arm into the little hin's. "prepay be same as loosin gold normally"

___________________________________________
A little later in the day, the same pair continue to travel toward's Arabel's center, discussing the importance of the map...

Faenor Bital: "cavern?" The priestess followed the fleet footed hin down the cobbles of a gloomy Arabel side street.

Millia Quick Stout: "oh! uh...... Me think you better asks Jen-Jen.... me no certains..."

FB: That comment from the hin simply causes the dwarf to snicker in irony as she shook her head as they turned a corner. "...an' JenWa say ask Millia, she knows…Har!"

___________________________________________
At the end of the day, having bid Faenor good even for her evening rituals, we find the pink haired hin sharing a meal and discussion with the Master Wizard, Sir Elyas Blake, himself taking a brief break from his many responciblities and travels. They discussed many 'facts' about the dwarven patheon indeed over well cooked meats from Amy's Inn across the way...

Millia Quick Stout: "Me knows from experiance Moradin give dwarf flame buttocks! Thunder Blessing!" The hin chews on the well cooked porkchop then, nodding to Elyas's observation. "Luggy Orc-kin of Moradin [Elvish] The nicest, meanest, truest priest of the 'All Father' you could ever have met. [Common] Him have bad gas! Him kill gobies by range usuals! OH! And Karn~Dwarf Guard from Dragon Dale bads too. Me rarely travels him but Ginnia [Elvish] She's my older Kin-Sister. [Common] She tell me of Dead Orcies from range alone, too!

Elyas Blake: Nodding in agreement, the man comments again. "true enough, perhaps.... in fact both ends of a dwarf can be dangerous for the un-initiated. I once saw (King) Hignar kill an orc by taking off his shoes." A modest smile on his face forms, then. "... I envied the orc"

[PensivesWetness]

My Last story on The Vast. I'm done with that server, it's small community minded stance, which means if your not a druid or ranger, your not gonna get DM loving or even attention. Sharp barbs for a server that i cut my teeth upon, for RP, but i mince little words on hypocrits like AG. Please enjoy, Ginnia as she leaves for a better place...

Sea Tact... (18 Mar 2006 11:41 AM Local)

Song Tract playing: Greenday's She's a Rebel

The little boy hurled his third bowelful of stomach bile, as the little Jugh pitched in the slightly calm waters of the Vesper River. His mother crouned over him, attempting to consol him, more to try to prevent him from puking once more than actually cure his lack of sea legs. Meh, what ever. The Town of Vesper River (Never gonna call it a 'city', heh!) well behind her, the hin gripped the ropes of this not quite as seaworthy flat bottom boat even tighter. Soon, a better boat will take her to a better place.

The hin snorted rudely as, like clockwork, the child vomited once more. As if Turlbegh was any better than Calaunt? As if a grossly over weight child is healthy enough for travel such as this? "Might bring a bucket wit' ya's next time lady", the hin commented to the mother, ward, what ever. The woman gave a scathing glance back at the hin but only her back and backpack even cared to notice, already moving to the other side of the Jugh.

A sigh. A soft prayer to the Matriarch. More sounds of forced heaving behind her. Brunette brows furrowed, pink glossy locks whipped up in the gust of wind, mirrroring the hin's mood precisely. Ginnia Quicken Stoutfolk, Daughter of Akania, Daughter of hated (HATED!) Gren, was possessing of many abilities since she left Baldur's Gate so long ago. However, as much as Akania tried to instill in her willful eldest child, tact, wasn't a skill she learned, or rather.... bothered with.

"[hin] Yondalla's teets! [com] what you feeding that kid, tallie wench!? Raw Pigs?" The sound of the woman's heated complained was drowned out by the laughter of some of the deck hands, agreeing in principle with the hin's accessment at least...

Good Bye.

[PensivesWetness]

This more or less covers Last Sunday's Quest that didn't happen yet Obviously it will likely make no sence, but be honest. You don't expect any sence from my stories, do you?

News cast (21Mar06 6:13 AM Local)

This Just in! A press conference is being held in Eveningstar, Cormyr, as the NC2 Scooby Gang admits nothing and everything. We begin this press comference, already in progress....

Hadrian Dragonsbane: [Party] ...But i wasn't there for that. I had to got to work so.... That... didn't happen. Yet. *mumbles to himself* Bobby Heuwin and that shower...

Jane Whore, MSFOX: [Talking] Miss Bital. Is it true that you had some minor assistance with this?

Faenor Bital: [Talk] ifn ye ask me, Bital, i 'grees wits Hadrian here. I only got the mapins, markins I gladly to offer ye calass Millia wits. *squints* Jus' dina wants you silly h'mans hood wackin' her.

JenWa: [Talk] Well, i'm currently under court order to remain quiet on this. *smiles mischievously* But i could show you my new catalog of 'Super Sexy Magical Girl Ravin' Live action Kaiju/Mecha/shojo/Romance shows... rated G to Mature to Burt-XxX

Joe Donut, WLKJ-TV: [Talking] And does that include Shadowdale G-Taste?

JenWa: [Talk] *frowns* No, we do NOT do hentai. Go down the street to Mikyla's Drow Porn emporium. Pass word is Elfslut. *looks left and right with shifty eyes* i think.

Millia Quick Stout: [Tell] Ding, Dong! Vuack, Vuack, Moo!

Tim Toejam, New York Prepiteriant News: [Preaching] And then great evil that is Pink, will rise up.... and eat us all! Eat! eaaaaaaat, i say, Eat!

Millia Quick Stout: [Talking] *Glances to her friends and blinks* Me no evils. honest.

[Tynndahl]

JenWa: [Talk] Well, i'm currently under court order to remain quiet on this. *smiles mischievously* But i could show you my new catalog of 'Super Sexy Magical Girl Ravin' Live action Kaiju/Mecha/shojo/Romance shows... rated G to Mature to Burt-XxX

OMG..LMAO...

this made my day

[PensivesWetness]

And meanwhile, back in Mayberry... (6Apr06 8:35 PM Local)

The air was cool, scented with gin blossoms and tinged of burning meat. Sune's pretty face was masked with some silky clouds, soon to hidden by faerun's shape. The sounds of singing, echoing from the interior of the Latherite church, made the child known as Melissa smile, as she sat on the bench, flute in both hands, as she continued the laborous motions of play. The tunes she produced felt... lacking, as if devoid of some unseen power. She tried one more note, descouraged at it's flat, plaintif hue, then sighed loudly as her gaze rose to the heavens above, blues and purples abound.

It had been over a week since the adventurers left Eveningstar, already she missed them greatly. The Sorceress JenWa. The Holy Warrior Nicha. The elf warrior Vilmar. The hin, Millia... and her pet, Max. Gone, returning home, briefly they planned. Aye, planned... Would they return? The child prayed hard that they would. So much good will and dedication they did for Cormyr, for the church, for Eveningstar. She was about to get up, and place her flute in it's case when she turned and widenned her green eyes as she met face to face with evil...

That is, if evil was green scaled, emerald eyed, glossy wings and aglowy sheesh, typical of Fey dragons. Melissa sat, stunned as the head of the fey, arched down, defiant, proud, it's nostrils flaring with each inhale, looked back. it was then, just then, that the child began to smile warmly, the fey, too proud to share his agreement with her simply turned his head around and began to preen his back with deligence.

it seems for certain that one person, very important to the child's life WOULD return, if only to recover her willful and erstwhile pain-in-her-hin-ass Familiar....

what? you think Max listens to Millia much?

[valn99]

Priceless!