[User]
 Spoiler: prologue
  The Ranger
"Quickly now, quickly!" The tall elf hissed. His blond hair whipped in the wind behind him as he and his charges ran silently through the woods.
"I can't!" cried the boy, gasping for breath. His feet flailed wildly as he tried his best to keep up with the older elf.
"You must," he replied. He didn't slow down. He couldn't. The Emperor's hired goons were right behind them. If they slowed down--even a little--those evil men would catch them, and kill the boy he had sworn to protect. The ranger would die a thousand deaths before he let that happen.

His eyes took in every leaf, every bird and every insect as they ran. They were like the eyes of an eagle, taking in every detail, noticing every movement. Only he wasn't looking for prey, he was looking for other predators. Any one else could have only seen giant trees and thick underbrush. The ranger saw past them. He saw  through  them. He saw a rocky outcropping at the edge of the woods, perhaps half a mile away. They had a chance.

The ranger signaled to the other elves behind him. They split of to the north and south. He gestured towards a thick tangle of undergrowth. The woman took the young boy and his friend by the hand and disappeared into it. He made a sign with his hands, spoke the ancient language his father had taught him, and prayed to the Wood Father and Earth Mother to protect them.

The boy's heart thundered in his chest like a stampeding bull. The woman patted his shoulder to try and comfort him. It didn't help. He and his friend exchanged nervous glances. The boy watched as the Ranger ran off. Moments later the bounty hunters ran by with bows raised, arrows ready to fire. The boy couldn't see. It looked like they might overtake him. He tried to stand to get a better look. The woman tried to grab him by they arm and pull him back down. It was too late.

The boy watched in horror as a bounty hunter's arrow buried itself deep into the ranger's back. The woman instantly jumped up and clapped a hand over they boy's mouth to keep him from crying out. She pulled him back down into the bush. The boy's eyes widened suddenly as he saw himself, his friend, and the woman go running off in another direction. One of the men shouted. Ten of the twelve bounty hunters took off after them, firing arrows as they went.

The woman crouched low, holding the boys close. Seconds felt like hours. The boy's gaze crept up, peering through the leaves until he could see the two men that remained. They crept slowly towards the ranger's body, bows drawn. There were shouts in the distance. The other bounty hunters were calling out that they had shot at the boy, and they had missed.

One of the two kicked at the ranger's body. His boot passed through it.
"It wasn't him!" shouted the hunter, "You're chasing an illusion!"
"Double back!" called out the other hunter. They glanced at each other and began scanning the trees and bushes for their prey. One turned towards the briar patch. The boy was sure he was staring straight at him. The hunter took a step forward. An evil smile split his face. They boy would have gasped if the woman's hand hadn't been tightly clamped over his mouth. The boy's friend panicked, jumping up from the bush and running as fast as his feet could carry him.

Both hunters brought up their bows and took aim. One stiffened suddenly, his arrow flying harmlessly into the trees. They other fired his arrow into the dirt before going completely limp and falling on his face. Three arrows protruded from his back. Then the other one finally fell, revealing the arrows in his back as well.

The illusion of the ranger's body faded away as he ran back into view.
"Come back boy!" he called
"I'll get him," offered the woman, standing quickly.
"What about the others?" asked the boy, his voice shaking. Cries in the distance answered his question. The ranger held out his hand.
"Come. We haven't much time."

In minutes they stood atop the outcropping, watching hordes of elves comb the woods behind them.

[User]
 Once upon a time, there was an ordinary farm boy who lived in an ordinary village. The village was peaceful and quiet, nestled between the wild wood and the rocky river. The village was home to people hiding from adventure and home to people wishing for it, but adventure never came...

Until one day, when Renly was tending the field, he saw them. He peered into the distance for a moment, not quite believing what he saw. There were three men, running towards him. Running quickly, waving their arms frantically. And a boy. A young boy Renly's age, perhaps younger. A cloud of dust rose up from the ground behind them. Then it dawned on him.

They were covered in blood. The hair rose on the back of his neck. The cloud was from horsemen, no doubt. Horsemen intent on killing the men on foot. Renly's heart pounded in his chest.
"Quick boy! Fetch the guard!" the men called from the distance.
Renly froze. There were no town guard. Whom then should he call upon? He didn't have much time to think. Soon they were upon him.
"Boy! Where are the guards?" One of the men grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him in desperation. Renly snapped to his senses.
"W--w--we have none." he stuttered.
"What?"
"We have none."
"We haven't much time, a band of outlaws rides to kill us and this young boy, noble birth his only crime."
"I'll hide you. Come on!"

Heads turned as they ran through the small village, past the smithy and the mill, past the library and meeting hall and around the back of the old stone church at the village's center. It was a monument of a bygone era, its wall beset by time, its windows cracked and faded, its wooden doors soft with age. Neglect had covered its floors with dirt and kept its secrets from all who now lived in the village. All that was, except Renly. Onlookers watched curiously as the villager's favorite farm boy ushered the odd foursome inside.

 ----------------------------------
Hooves thundered down the main dirt road that lead to the church. A crowd gathered to stare in awe at the sight. Their horses were a proud and noble breed. Their saddles were of the finest leather. Their armor was of the highest quality anywhere in the nine realms. The sharpness of their swords was only matched by the sharpness of their sight and their deadly accuracy with the bow. Elves.

"We come in peace!" said the leader in response to the fear he saw in the villagers' eyes, "We are pursing a band of criminals! They have kidnapped an elven child! Tell us where they have run so that we may save him!"

The elves' polished armor glinted in the sun. No one said a word. Nobody moved.

"For the sake of the child! The criminals must be brought to justice!"

One of the women glanced around nervously, clutching at her shawl. She opened her mouth to speak, but was suddenly elbowed by her husband. The elf saw the nudge. Then he saw the worry in her eyes. He turned his horse towards them and trotted forward. The black steed towered over them. His shoulders passed in front of the sun, casting a shadow over them.

"I only wish to keep the child safe," his voice was calm and smooth, "just... tell us where they are."
"We don't want any trouble," said the husband.
The horseman ignored him. He locked his dark gaze on the woman, leaning towards her as he spoke.
"Tell us where they are, and no one gets hurt."
"W-w-we didn't see anyone come through here, so just move along!"

The elf lashed out suddenly, grabbing the woman by her hair. She shrieked with terror. The husband lunged forward, shouting at the elf to let her go. He received a kick in the belly for his efforts. His friends rushed forward to fight but we immediately struck down with the butt-ends of the horsemens' spears.

The villagers watched in terror as the elves began lighting torches. They rode to the edge of the streets, kicking or riding over farmers who attempted to get in their way. They set the thatched roofs ablaze.

"It is a pity this town is so far from the great cities of your fellow men! Perhaps more learned minds would have had the wisdom to acquiesce to their superiors!!"

[User]
 Karpan Davos

When the villagers got up to see what the commotion was, Davos continued his meal.  Only when loud voices made their way into the tavern did he stand up and look to the window.

Elves.

His face twisted into a sneer.  Nothing good would come of this.  He quietly slipped out of the back of the tavern and made his way to the town's well.  He'd be damned if he'd go back to rooting around for berries and fruits after only half a decent meal.  Three days in the bloody wilderness and he has to walk into the only village in 500 miles to get raided by bloody elves.

He fully intended to Call upon the spirit of the water  to douse those flames and deal with the raiders.  The surprises look on the faces of those smug purebloods would be a nice bonus, if he could pull it off...

[User] Grandar had grown accustomed to boredom in his time, the war he was seeking was still many weeks wondering off, still by the sound of dissent outside he way not have to wait that long before indulging in his own worship. With hope in his heart he uttered a prayer to his gods before hefting his axe and his longbow and journeying through the backstreets towards where everyone else was gathering.

[User]
 Doing an odd job scratching at the dirt in this backwater village, shaking out last nights drinking

     Talisker Skye

Hears horse hooves, and shouts.

Dropping the shovel, he goes to spy and sees armed horsemen.. Elves? burning the village.

He was just passing through.

He really didn't know these people.

The smart thing to do would be to stay hidden, and then escape.

Talisker was never very smart.

He goes to collect his war gear.

[User]
 Atop a nearby hill, a proud old man sits under a proud old tree, resting from his travels, trained eyes absent-mindedly scanning the horizon. Aldric Aiden is his name. Before he acknowledges the rising smoke, his body does. His right hand springs to his left hip, but finds no sword there. Sighing, he climbs to his feet, reaching for his backpack.

He retrieves his chainmail hauberk and dons it over the padded clothing covering his body against the biting wind, and clasps the plate armor to his arms and legs. He slings his sword over his shoulder and clasps it to his belt. Securing the straps on his helmet, he runs his hand through his graying beard and into his holy symbol, grasping it tightly.

The symbol of a promise to protect the weak and defend the innocent.

Finally, he grabs his staff and rummages in his bag for the spearhead, and hammers the three rivets into place with a rock, ending up with a solid spear.

Donning his cloak, he speaks to his horse. " Today we ride, friend, " he jumps atop her and spurs her lightly.

" May the gods be with us all, " the holy warrior utters, gripping his holy symbol.

[User]
 The straw crackled as the roofs went up in flame. Dark smoke rose into the sky.
"Let her go!" shouted the farmer desperately. A young man charged. The leader drew his sword and plunged it into the young man's chest with a single fluid motion. The woman shrieked in terror. The tension rose.

Men looked at each other anxiously, then at the husband, not wondering  what  they should do, but if they should do it  now . As some would later recount, that day they had fought fifty elves. Some would say over a hundred. To the fearful observer, that estimate would be correct. In reality it was closer to twenty. None of that mattered now. What mattered was the blood of their dead friend seeping into the ground.

A lone figure appeared in the street, jaw set, weapon in hand. He strode confidently forward.

 Spoiler: OOC
The "lone figure" could be anyone... First come first serve. Go ahead and roll your magic/combat/diplomacy skills when you post, and I'll describe the outcome(s) in the next post

[User]
 Grandar approached the elf in the lead, murmuring under his breath a constant prayer to the old Gods, combat to fight this type of oppressor was the noblest of all. He walked with a steady caution towards the elf in the lead whereupon he swung his axe going down in a decisive swing.

 Spoiler: OOC:

I think is how it works, what do I need to roll?
 (6d6)[ 22 ]

[User] Spying glass in hand, Aldric scans the carnage, gritting his teeth. Seeing the warrior walk forth, he spurs his mount and urges it along.


[User] You find your self sitting at your diner table with your wife, young daughter and son, along with your new strange and eccentric neighbor by the name of Taints.  The man apparently believes in magic and is on a mission to acquire the sun. full of rubbish this one. your sitting there worried about the events of earlier in the day you've been in town for a few days getting things in order for your family with the rest of the money you had from your time mining that strange coal that seems to have permanently stained your hands to the far west for them government types. The day your family show up there was a commotion out side and you had seen the apparently local gang dragging some poor guy around behind a horse. against your better judgment you stepped in and scared off the few gang members then untied the man. cant help but think if that will come back to bite you later. You come back to the present as you hear a wonderful sound, witch turns out to be your daughter expertly playing a flute made of gold colored wood. Your neighbor smiles and says  ah your quite good, keep it.

[User]
 The Gunsmith gives his head a slight shake as he pulls away from the worries he has probably just caused himself and his family.  With luck perhaps the sheriff can nip this in the bud before it becomes too much of a problem...  Looking to his daughter Penelope, or Penny for short, his brow arches in distrustful curiosity before glances from the girl and the flute to Taints and then his wife, Molly.

Clearing his throat, the Gunsmith wipes his mouth with the cloth napkin while rising to a stand. "All right, Penny. Play time is over. Go on an' wash up now. You too, Noah. Giddy up." While speaking, he approached the children and deftly plucked the flute from Penny's hands and placed it upon the mantle out of reach of the kids, subconsciously wiping hishand off on his jeans.

[User]
 Penny and Noah race off to get cleaned up this is accompanied by the sounds of a minor sibling squabble. Taints looks up to you and asks pulling a box from a bag he brought,  take a gander at this found it in my new residence, have ya ever seen any markings of the like?

if you were to inspect the box its a good 3 ft long, 1 1/2 ft wide and about 8 in deep with a combination lock built in with strange markings in place of the numbers... or letters there are five spaces for the code.

Molly walks about the table cleaning up after diner.

[User]
 The Gunsmith quirks a surprised brow at the size of the box, having been curious as to what his neighbor had hauled into his home in such a large bag.  Reaching out to take the container from Taints, the first thing he looks or feels for is to check the weight of the item. Otherwise, after inspecting the dials and hmmm-ing to himself in thought gives a shrug of hisshoulder, handing it back.

"Can't say I have. I've seen locks similar but these don't look like no letters or numbers I've ever been taught. 'Nother language, I reckon. Might be one o'them oriental fellas they got working the rails out west might know. They don't write like us folks."

[User]
 you note that the box is fairly heavy and when moved there is no clattering or clanging sounds so what ever is in the box must take up the whole thing.

 ah...  sighs Taints discouragement plain on his face  oh well. there has been something iv been wondering bout tho,  his expression suddenly becoming excited  whats the story wit them hands o yours, curse? cauldron mixen gone wrong? piss off a fire gremlin?

[User]
 With a slight smirk and a small chuckle escaping him, the Gunsmith shakes his head and settles himself down onto his chair once more.  Looking at his blackened hands a moment before lacing his fingers together he rests them on the table.

"No sir. Least, no curse far as I can tell. An' certainly no cauldron mixing or, what was it, gremlins?  No, none o'that nonsense. It was from a mining job I had out west before pulling up stakes and moving here. Damn rock or coal or whatever the Hell it was, just kept gettin harder and harder to scrub off until..." He holds his hands up to finish his sentence for him. His sleeves are rolled up to the elbows and the black stains his skin about halfway down his forearms.

[User]
 Taints brow furrows  hmm... well that is odd, but not exciting. he glances at the window, well it seems to be getting late, i should get out of your hair, thank you for the meal and hospitality sir, mama, if you will excuse me.  Taints finishes his glass of water, gathers up the box and bag, waves a farewell and takes his leave.

its about 9 pm now, and your children come back from cleaning up and request a story before bed.

[User] Sees Taints to the door like a good and proper host, locking it as he closes it behind the man before turning to face his family, exhaling heavily.  The exhaustion can't keep the smirk from his face though as his children request their stories.  Tucking them into bed, the Gunsmith then regales them with a tale of a crazy old man that got the idea in his head to steal the sun from the sky that ultimately ended in failure but holds valuable lessons nonetheless.  Afterwards he will go to bed with his wife where he will wake up early to begin work in his shop.

[User] you spend the next couple of days getting acquainted with your shops equipment and set up, everything a gun smith would need is hear. all the standard tools and equipment, there is also a larger piece of equipment that you have never seen before. you find instructions and after some time fiddlin with it you figure it out. when the door to your workshop opens up a man dressed in a black suite covered in worn duster that has something small and shinny on the upper left corner, and a dark gray, battered, stetson. In a gravely voice he says,  you the gun smith?


[User]
 You live in cages and Daddy feeds you and pets you and teaches you tricks and plays games with you. Daddy is big and dark and wears grey robes. You have brothers and sisters in the other cages on the shelf. Sometimes Daddy takes them away. Sometimes Daddy changes them. Sometimes Daddy brings new ones. You don’t remember anything before Daddy. You know there was something before you started remembering, and you think you have changed somehow, but you don’t really understand. You just wait for your turn to play and time to eat.

-----

You are hungry. Hungry enough that you aren't trying to hide any more because you are almost more hungry than scared. The gnawing in your gut is producing its own growing fear, a fear that may become as great as the fear from behind your eyes.

Daddy had left after feeding you. Sometime later you heard yelling you didn't understand behind your eyes. It was scary. It became too much and you had to go to sleep. You had bad dreams. You woke up hungry and scared. You couldn't talk or even think right. You wanted to hide under your cushion. Your body wouldn't move right. It took a long time to eat your food and drink your water. You still can't talk, and you are too afraid of everything to want to.

Daddy has been gone a long time now. The food and water is gone.
You are lonely, scared, hungry, thirsty.

You must get out of your cage. You don't know where this thought came from, but now you know it. You must get out.

How do you get out of your cage? And the floor is about 6 body lengths down. How will you get down?

(give a brief description of your escape plan. You are in a sturdy wire cage. )

[User] I put the cusion against the front of the cage and force myself against it until cage falls off of the shelf. It plumits to the ground and I land safely off of the cushion. If the cage breaks, I run for cover as soon as I'm on the ground.

[User]
 On the floor with you are 1 cushion, 1 damaged cage with a sleeping cushion in it.

Across the room is a door.

On the right side of the room is the table where Daddy plays with you.

What do you do?

[User] I slowly approach the area where Daddy plays with me, seeking any cover. I try my best to move stealthly.

[User] You move to the table in the corner where Daddy plays with you. It is much taller than you.

[User] I look for a chair I can climb on.

[User] There is the stool Daddy uses.

[User] I attempt to climb Daddy's stool to reach the top of the table.

[User] You see one of your toys, Daddy's notebook, and a metal box.

[User] I approach and read the notebook.

[User]
 The notebook records the last few weeks of your life. Length, weight, growth, maze times, food consumption, poop production, shedding...

The last page..."after tomorrow's expedition, will infuse J-17 with recently arrived crystals."

(ponds full now?)


[User]
 You wake upon the sand, saltwater foam splahing into your sinuses.  pain burns roughly in your throat as you cough up seawater.  This voyage had already taken three weeks heaving on uncharted seas, fighting off illness and cabin fever in the cramped, moist coditions. But the reward was worth it! a governorship over any island to any man who could tame it.

This was not the ideal way to arrive at the first new governorship free for claiming, after three weeks, in a damp dark box. Last night a fierce storm smashed the ship between its swells, and gods be praised you and a few survivors washed up on this shore during the night.

From the waterline 30 meters of sand stretch out to a thick forest foliage. The sun beats down remorelessly and your body aches all over as you pull yourself to your feet.


[User]
 It was late, and the Casino was quiet save the usual patrols from Cabal's security force. He seemed to put a few extra hooves on the lower East corridor that passed the found entrance to the hive. Considering Cabal's true nature, it was doubtful anyone could fault his sense of paranoia. However, there was confidence among some EDF members that the hive would behave. Rose was one of those members... but speaking of her, where is Rose?

Love quickly notices that she had not come back to base camp after the basement party, nor was she at the bar having a late-night snack.

[User] Love goes out to look for Rose. If they don't meet up, She taps into the camera system to try to find her. If that doesn't work, she'll comm her and ask, "Hey, Rose, where are you?"

[User] The camera system easily finds Love's quarry. Rose is sitting in the stairwell by herself. There is a a pile of tools on the stairs around her, but the concerning part is that her right foreleg is detached. Rose doesn't seem to be having an easy time pulling herself back together. Literally.

[User] Love would head to grab her toolbox, but she knows Rose's tools are top quality. Once she is at the stairway, she knocks on the wall to announce her entrance. "Hey, Rose." She smiles at her. "Need a hoof?" Love will start to approach her.

[User]
 Rose sits up when she's found, a bit startled. " Oh! Uh, hi Love... I, yeah, I could use a hoof. Mine's... not attached at the moment. "

She struggles to get a piece of the elbow joint reattached. " I had like, sand or something and I was trying to clean my leg out. Came apart on me. "

[User]
 Love lightly chuckles. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." She takes a seat down next to her. "We should manage with three hoofs between the two of us." She smirks. "You're new legs are handling themselves really well. I'm glad you got an upgrade so that you can handle water. They're really pretty and well designed."

"I could take a look if you want to make sure it's all cleaned out." She sticks her hoof out to receive the deattached limb. "I could help pop it back on too."

[User] "Go ahead if you want to look, it's not going anywhere," Rose says. "I'm about ready to return these legs anyway. Sure they do better in water, but I've not stopped itching since we got to the desert because of the sand."

[User]
 Love jokes by putting on a rough stereotypical military voice, "I need you in top condition!" She lightens to a soft smile. "The sand is bothering you? Aside from the sand, you've had no other issues?" The legs are exposed, complex, and precise. LoveBots have a nice layer of pony flesh on them to protect them from the elements. And, Love grew up in the desert so she is just used to sand.

She moves Rose's toolkit to her side. Love carefully, gently takes Rose's leg off and starts cleaning with a meticulous nature, a jeweler with a gem.

"Did you have another set of specifications in mind? Something that handles sand a little better?" There are so many ways Rose could go with her legs its hard for Love to pin down her direction.

[User] "Well, I was just thinking..." Rose pauses as the sensation of cold hits her when her leg disconnects. "Was thinking about this new magic procedure to regrow my original legs... But..  that would take me off duty for at least 7-8 months."

[User] Love puts some stress in her cheek. "Seven or eight months? That's a long time to be out of commission. Can the procedures be done concurrently?" She looks up at her, well, a different part of her, one that isn't disconnected. "Why the sudden change in direction?"

[User]
 " That * IS * concurrently, " Rose replies, sounding a bit defeated. " I don't know, I guess... I'm a little jealous that you and Sniper have good cybernetics that have at least the semblance of real fur over them. At least, it's recent on this mission. Maybe too many wastelanders are staring and it's making old esteem issues doubt myself again. "

" I don't think it's that bad back home. "

She watches Love for for a few seconds. " So, why are you up this late? couldn't sleep either ?"

[User]
 Love nickers at that time scale. "That'd be a major break away from the EDF." She moves in closer and rests a hugging leg over Rose. "A broken horn blends in a little easier than beautiful chrome. You wouldn't have been able to blend in even with disguised legs. The wastelanders can spot an outsider like their not even their family!" She chuckles and teases. "Rose, you're looking beautiful. Don't let the foreign glances bother you too much."

"It's definitely not your imagination."

Love laughs. "I don't sleep anymore. I gave that up for this mission. One hundred and fifty days straight! It's a new record!" She chuckles. "Are  you  having trouble sleeping?"

[User] " You don't sleep? That seems dangerous for a few reasons, " Rose protests. However, she doesn't push it more than that. " I dunno... I got so much to worry about lately; this mission, the zebras, you lot... the changelings now. I'm worried I might break. "

[User]
 Love waves her hoof dismissively. "I was exaggerating. I don't sleep much, but I do try to get some sleep every night." She puts a hoof up to her mouth. "Mwhaha. I have to be available if Rem decides to pay me a visit."

"You might break?", Love asks. "The last couple days have been high stress."

[User]
 Originally Posted by Elbeyon
 Love waves her hoof dismissively. "I was exaggerating. I don't sleep much, but I do try to get some sleep every night." She puts a hoof up to her mouth. "Mwhaha. I have to be available if Rem decides to pay me a visit."

"You might break?", Love asks. "The last couple days have been high stress."

" Speaking of things I worry about, but high-stress is putting it mildly, " Rose comments. She waves her stub in the air, but looks at it as if the leg just invisible. " Rem is nice and all, but nightly nightmares sounds like a bad idea. Sniper isn't sleeping well, I can see that. But nooo, it's okay. Don't listen to Rose, she's just jealous because her ex is having a good time snuggling with a spirit in his wildest dreams. Being with another mare, oh no! That's frightening... "

Rose buries her face in her one good hoof. " UGH! I feel like I'm part of a high school Drama Club, not a military outfit. "

[User]
 The walls bristle with movement as Rose speaks. Some robots double-check to make sure they are alone. Love squeezes Rose's shoulder and provides a friendly massage. "I thought the party would have helped you relax. I don't want you to break, Rose."

"Rem seems confidence in her ability to help people. She is nice and all. The nightmares are rough on Scope's sleep schedule, but if he sleeps more he should get enough restful sleep." Love puts some stress in her cheek. "I don't think they have that type of relationship."

Love asks, "What drama has been bothering you?"

[User] "Bah, I know they don't have anything going on. That was sarcasm," Rose says in her self-defense. "The party was fine, but we wouldn't have needed it if everyone took their 'chill-pills' this morning. I think y'all too stifling with this no-kill hill everyone's willing to die on. ...irony not intended."

[User]
 "I don't think Scope is being overridden by fear of being with a mare... Scope is really brave." Love stops hugging Rose and gets back to work.

"The road may have been bumpy, but Scope saved a pony's life. That's great. I wish he wasn't reprimanded so harshly by everyone for doing a good deed. I'm truly sad Scope and Queen Chrysalis fought, and I hope they properly make up. Today was a great first step for the both of them toward that end, and they have their own way of doing things. I'm so happy the party happened! I was thinking the same thing as Queen Chrysalis! We should be more helpful toward each other."

[User] " Yeah, and one way we could be more helpful is by not poking into her business so much? Saving one pony's life isn't worth it if we lose dozen for it. That's why he got reprimanded. "

[User]
 "I want friendship with Queen Chrysalis. Besides, we're allies. We're suppose to share information and work together."

"We didn't cause dozens of people to die and we saved a pony's life. Scope did a good job. I-maybe, we could have saved more if I built my MicroBots better. I think people are being way too harsh on Scope! We've all made tons of miscalculations that we have easily forgiven as long as the results turned out good, and the only thing Scope caused was a party. A party that we should have already been having with the Queen."

[User] " I, I, I, me, me, me, " Rose repeats. " Yes, I know what you all want to have happen, but have any of you really stopped to consider that what you want out of this alliance is  not  the same thing as what Queen Chrysalis wants? Remember, she built up her hive with the image that she's a bad-flank mean mother changeling who is in charge and makes the rules. How do you think that hive is going to react if she's taking orders from us? Your idea of friendship is undermining her authority over her own. It's... it's not how we should be treating her ."

[User]
 Love bristles under Rose's rudeness. "I consider and think about it a lot." She asks for Rose's insight, "What does Queen Chrysalis want?"

She keeps diligently working on cleaning Rose's leg.

"Queen Chrysalis isn't lacking any authority. Her hive is very loyal to her. And, I don't want to order her around. We have rules we, ourselves, have to follow though."

[User]
 " I think what Chrysalis wants is to just be left alone. She's an old, tired queen who's been through one too many broken promises, " Rose says. " We have rules to follow, but our rules aren't her rules, are they? I think the stunt you and the others pulled on her really undermined her authority with her hive. It's like we;re saying she can't make any decisions on how to deal with her own prisoners. "

Rose pauses for a moment. She then adds. " Sorry if I'm getting preachy. I know no one meant to make an angry queen. Just... you gotta be careful around her. She's got a lot on her shoulders and only knows her way of working that. "

In minutes Rose and Love have the leg working again and reattached. Rose flinches when her nerves connect again. It's like having a sharp pinch followed by the pins-n-needles of an asleep leg waking up. With that, Rose thanks love and heads off to bed.

" Night Love. Big day tomorrow, I can feel it. "


[User]
 An Indeterminate Amount of Time Following Chrysalis' Down to the Wire Executions
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You're not Dr. Freud.”

In response, a warm chuckle comes from the teleconference receiver. The stallion on the other end of the call adjusts his glasses and says: “Dr. Freud is on personal leave right now. I'm helping to handle his case load as a professional courtesy. My name is Dr. Crutch-- it's an interesting name, I know. And you're Lt. Sniper Scope?”

“That would be correct.” Sniper adjusts his chair and spends a moment seizing up the psychiatrist.

“Then it is a pleasure to formally meet you.” Crutch nods. “I apologize that it's taken us so long to talk following the events of the  Pacification Protocol . Our caseload and your work load have not been very cooperative in terms of scheduling. Now then, from what I'm told, you've been going through some hard times as of late.”

Sniper shrugs off the promptto elaborate: “There have been worse times; there have been bettertimes. I'm surviving.”

“And is surviving all that matters to you?”

“Considering that I was almost blown to bits by an exploding ship reactor, I'd say it's enough for the moment.” The words are sharper than intended. There's something about this doctor that annoys Sniper. Although just what that was eludes him.

“It's a laudable immediate goal, certainly.”

“But that's not enough for you, is it?”

Crutch broadens his hooves in a placating manner. “While immediate survival is certainly an integral part of your job; in my experience, it is a very vague long-term goal. Survival can mean many things. Not all of those meanings bring happiness.”

Sniper sighs. “I shoot who you tell me to shoot. I try not to get shot in return. Isn't that enough for you?”

“Perhaps for the moment. But I'd prefer you have something to live for after the shooting stops. I'd like for you to have a happy life. I think we all owe you that much after your years of dedicated service.”

“You don't owe me anything. I haven't done anything.” Sniper says.

Crutch smiles. “Nearly getting blown to bits by an exploding ship reactor doesn't count?”

There's a short pause.

“Touche.”

“This isn't a contest, Lt. Scope. I'm not an opponent or an enemy. Right now, we need you mentally healthy and mentally competent. Acknowledging your successes are a part of that.” Crutch studies his patient's body language then asks: “And you disagree?”

Sniper frowns-- caught. “Instinctively.”

“Tell me why.”

The irritation factor increases. “Because I don't think my contributions count. They  shouldn't count. After the things I've done and the things that I'll do in the future.” Sniper breaks off and looks away. “I shouldn't be acknowledged. I'm not a hero.” He rights his gaze. “Intellectually, I know that outlook is wrong. Emotionally, however...”

Sniper trails off and leaves the sentence unfinished. Crutch lets it fall away without comment. Instead, he asks: “Lt. Scope, can I share an observation with you?”

A shrug is the only answer.

“When all is said and done, we are the ones who choose how to define ourselves. We can define ourselves by our mistakes or we can define ourselves by our successes--”

“-- and I should start defining myself by success.” Sniper interjects.

Crutch shakes his head to the negative. “Not at all. Choosing to define ourselves solely by success blinds us to those character traits and shortcomings that enabled our failures. I suggest that we all take abalanced view of ourselves. We have successes, we have failures, and we should define ourselves accordingly.”

At that moment, Sniper realizes what it is about Crutch that irritates him. The stallion was almost overwhelmingly sincere. He genuinely wanted others to be at peace in their life. Like Love. Well, that explains things.

“A balanced outlook on life. I've, well... been working on that.” Sniper admits.

Crutch's voice softens. “I hope so, Lt. Scope. I truly hope so. In light of that, how do you see yourself?”

It became apparent that Crutch wasn't going to move the conversation along until Sniper answered, and the doctor's patience proved greater than the soldiers'.

“I'm not a good stallion. I don't know that I'll ever be. Right now, I'm trying not to be a bad one. I don't know that's enough.”

“It might be for the moment. It seems to be enough for those around you, and Lt. Croix in particular since you two are--” Crutch catches sight of his patient's frown and asks: “-- has something happened between you two, Lt. Scope?”

A dark look prefaces Sniper's explanation: “We broke up. We're no longer seeing each other. Lt. Croix is seeing Captain Tape now.”

“Ah. I'm sorry to hear that.” It was more than a platitude. Crutch seems genuinely remorseful. “Our files must not have been updated yet. May I ask what happened?”

Sniper takes a deep breath.

“It was a bad situation start to finish. I had too many neurotic issues for any intimate relationship to work-- issues with physical contact and intimacy. After one date, Lieut-- Rose... I don't know what to call it. We hadn't decided anything about exclusivity. But the day after our date she had two one-night stands. One of which was so far outside protocols it threatened her entire career. You've read my file. I'm sure you've seen my history. Her actions sparked those old demons. I wanted to lash out at her. Let the hooves fly. After a near-death experience, I had an emotional crisis, looked at my tendencies, and thought that there wasn't any love in our relationship. I told her that I didn't love her, that I was struggling not to hit her and she did the right thing by breaking it all off.”

“And did you ever love her?”

Sniper's shoulders slump. “... Yes.” He slowly begins to explain: “At the time, I genuinely thought that I didn't. The lack of empathy and the domestic abuse-- it made too much sense-- but afterward I, er, I realized otherwise. But, I couldn't ask for us to get back together. Not when I knew Red Tape was waiting in the wings and-- and she could end up with a better stallion. She deserves better than me.”

“If you'll forgive me, Lt. Scope, your closing comment sounds like a rationalization.”

“Maybe. But it lets me sleep at night.”

“Not very well, I imagine.”

Sniper's mouth twitches in amusement.

Crutch falls silent and lets the conversation cool before saying anything else. Eventually, he speaks again: “Lt. Scope, what is that made you want to lash out? What prompted you to want to hit her?”

“She cheated on me the day after our date. It hurt. I wanted to hurt her back.” He looks at the doctor as though the answer is self-evident.

“Hm. Forgive me, but I think there's more to it than that. I think there's something deeper.”

Sniper shrugs, but makes no other answer.

“From what I've seen and read: you're an emotional stallion, but not in that fashion. You don't lash out because of personal pain, but because of perceived injustice. What injustice did she do to you, Lt. Scope?” Crutch asks.

“She cheated on me.” Sniper says simply, if not comfortably.

“And for that you wanted to leave. But you didn't. Did you want to strike her because she trapped you in a painful relationship?”

“No, I forgave her for the fling. I...”

“Did you really? Or are you only saying so?”

“No! I really did. I stayed in the relationship for her. I didn't hold her sleeping around against her.”

“You must have held something against her or you wouldn't have wanted to strike her. What did she do to you?”

“I-- I--” Agitation chokes off Sniper's words.

“You know the truth, Lt. Scope. Admit it.”

Sniper snaps upright. His chair slides backward.

Crutch doesn't stop: “And until you admit the truth, Lt. Scope, you're never going to get past this abusive streak.”

Sniper turns to storm out of the room.

“What. Did. She. Do?”

Sniper whirls around to face Crutch. His hoof crashes into the table. His voice is loud, venomous: “They forgave her!”

Crutch says nothing, so Sniper continues: “She has an affair that jeopardizes the entire EDF, that puts us all at great risk and everyone falls all over themselves to forgive her! They defend her, intervene for her, take her back-- I took her back!”

Spent, Sniper collapses into his chair. A hoof covers his eyes and he finishes the explanation: “And they've never done the same for me... Because they don't see me as a friend. They see me as a project-- something to be fixed. Something to be made normal like every pone else. Because... Rose is a good pony and I'm... I'm not.”

Silence falls between the two. It lasts for nearly a full minute before Crutch continues the interview.

“Lt. Scope, I'm sorry for pushing you to the breaking point. I hope you can see why I had to do so. Now that we've reached the core genesis of why you struggle so much with domestic abuse, we can begin unraveling the problem so that it's resolved and you don't have to deal with it any longer. Are you ready to do that?”

More silence. More indecision. Then, finally, a verdict. Sniper nods slowly and sadly.

“I'm... I'm ready, Dr. Crutch.”

“Then here is the first thing I want you to understand: I am not fixing you...”


[User]
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[User]
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[User]
 This will be a home away from home for our group. This is the crate we're going to live on in the Dock Ward while we're trying to find our way and figure out what's what in the City of Splendours.

Go ahead and post something, try out the controls, and see what's what!

[User]
 [roll]1d20+5[/roll]
[roll]1d8+3[/roll]

[User]
 Prince has himself a look around.  "It's not  bad ,"  he sniffs,  "it looks nice, actually, but it feels like we're sitting outside of a tavern after being booted out, you know?"

 Spoiler: OOC
Hi, all!

[User]
 Vatra says little as he prepares for the performance.  He nurses his drink so as to stay sharp,  Gotta keep time!  , he thinks to himself as he practices a steady roll on the edge of the table with his sticks.  Occasionally he looks around as he nods his head to the music in his head, half keep an eye out for any familiar folks.

 Spoiler: OOC
Rolling a perception check to test out rolling...though I have no idea what my stats are so I'm just rolling a d20

[roll]1d20[/roll]

[User]
 Post check.

 (4d6b3)[ 15 ]

Another post check. [roll]1d20+5[/roll]

So I got the first roll to take, but adding rolls to the post doesn't seem to work?  Wish I knew what the difference was when it seemed like I used the appropriate tags.

[User]
 I wonder if I need to include all rolls in the first post?

 (1d20+5)[ 15 ]
 (1d6+3)[ 6 ]

[roll]1d20+5[/roll]
Yeah, maybe?

[User]
 testing rolls

 (1d20)[ 1 ]

Ok,,,worked when I created the original post...but not when editing??

[roll]1d20[/roll]

[User]
 Okay, trying the rolling again....

 Spoiler: Stat Rolls

Str:  (3d6)[ 16 ]
Int:  (3d6)[ 13 ]
Wis:  (3d6)[ 13 ]
Con:  (3d6)[ 8 ]
Dex:  (3d6)[ 10 ]
Cha:  (3d6)[ 8 ]

Okay, this is a bad-ass Dwarf fighter with a good head on his shoulders but a glass jaw.

Can I get another roll in the post edit? [roll]1d20+5[/roll]

The answer is no. Looks like we need to make a new post in order to make new rolls. However, it is pretty sweet we can put those inline with the text of the post.

Can I put spoiler tags around the rolls after they're rolled?

The answer is yes. The {roll1} can be used to identify that roll in other places too, like here:  (3d6)[ 13 ]   and can be moved around and embedded in other formatting tags


[User] First post reserved for information

[User]
 Amid the bustle of Waterdeep, within the Castle Ward where barristers,  nobles, and emissaries battle with word and contract, stands an inn not  quite like any other: The Yawning Portal. The place is a stone building  with a slate roof and several chimneys. Most of the ground floor is  taken up by the tavern’s common room, which contains a 40-foot-diameter  open well - the entrance to Undermountain. A rope-and-pulley mechanism  is used to lower adventurers into the well and hoist them out. Balconies  on the tavern’s second and third floors overlook the well, with those  floors accessed by way of wooden stairs that rise up from the taproom.  Guests sitting at the tables on the balconies have an excellent view of  the well and the action below.

And, it is on the second of these balconies where you find yourselves on this sweltering summer evening.

You sit around a sturdy wooden table lit by a brightly burning candle  and littered with plates cleared of food and half-drained tankards. The  sounds of gamblers yelling and drunken adventurers singing bawdy songs  nearly drown out the off-key strumming of a young bard three tables  over.

What has brought you here tonight is the Battle of the Bards  competition. It wasn't easy, but you've secured a berth in the Sword  Coast's biggest music contest. Tonight is your first performance in the  contest, and the house is packed. Success means moving up the ranks,  failure means elimination.
You see your competition a few tables over. One band hailing from  Skullport calls themselves "Beauty," and they are rumoured to play for  The Xanathar to soothe the temperamental beholder's cruel heart. Krentz  is their lead singer, who perhaps was once human. His bald pate is  covered in stylized eye tattoos, but he himself has no eyes.

The other band, "Black Wyrm," is an up-and-coming band that seems to get  all the best gigs. They are all dressed in black, carry the finest  instruments, and have impeccable hair. Rumour has it that Zhentarim gold  has paved the way for their success. Yagra Stonefist, the band's  half-orc manager, looms behind them, an ice-cold stare directed at  Krentz's many eyes.

Bonnie the serving maid comes by with a round of ale for the table and big smile for you all.

"I wasn't supposed to tell you, but these are courtesy of Durnan. Liquid courage he called it!"

If you glance over at Durnan, he is conspicuously busy with polishing pewter mugs behind the bar.

"Good luck today!" She says cheerfully, giving Prince a wink on her way back into the busy bar.

The camera in our scene now slowly pans around the table from one  character to another. What are each of your characters doing as you wait  for your turn to take the stage?

 PRINCE

Prince's mouth quirks into a playful moue and he blows Bonnie a kiss as  she leaves. Arrayed in brocade and silk even more flamboyant than his  usual, the bard dips a beringed finger into his glass of wine and draws a  wet fingertip across his lips.

"What'll it be today, Mama?" Prince asks in a smoky drawl, turning  kohl-rimmed eyes towards Xelia. "Something soulful, like Diamonds &  Pearls, maybe? Or fun and danceable, like Raspberry Beret?"

 ALASTRIONA

Alastriona watches Bonnie depart, studying the barmaid's movement  between the tables. She returns her attention the newly-delivered ale,  picks up the tankard, and immediately drains the contents. Her impassive  expression is only briefly interrupted by the loud eyes-wide BRAAP of a  burp before returning to her typical look of stoic reservation.

In stark contrast to Prince's dazzling display of silk, Alastriona wears  a muted black leathers with bits of chain mail dangling from  underneath, and a full chain mail centre-split skirt falls past her  knees to end at the thick black boots with metal buckles. A long  diaphanous gray shawl covers her head like a cowl and drapes across her  shoulders, barely concealing the symbol of a skeletal hand holding a  pair of scales. Her skin pale and ashen, she nonetheless has health in  her robust body. Kohl lines her amethyst eyes and full lips, matching  her dark hair tied loosely in a bun.

Despite matching nothing of Prince's flamboyant style, Alastriona has  always accompanied the group's music with her bass lyre, which she wears  strapped around her chest due to the larger size and weight. At  Prince's question, she looks towards Xelia for direction, relying on the  older one for guidance and mentorship.

 BUTLER

Butler raises his flagon in a salute in Durnans general direction before  downing his ale and going back to quietly strumming at his dulcimer.  ”Looking at this crowd something lively they can sing along would  probably do well, maybe steer clear of the more soulful stuff tonight”  he chips in to Princes question.

 XELIA

"My dear boys, let me finish my drink and we'll see just what's in store  for us." Xelia smiles and takes another languid sip, leaving the  tankards for everyone else as she studies the patrons and competition  over the lip of her wine goblet. Her bearing leaves no question as to  her place in Waterdhavian society. Her dress is simple but dignified,  customized to her exact specifications and in a blueish-grey color that  somehow amplifies the reddish tones in her fur. It is similar to one she  wore when she was a young girl, as depicted in a famous portrait that  hangs in her foyer. She smiles sadly for a moment, remembering the girl  she was, before marriage and duty became her only way of life. Is it too  late for her? Is it folly to follow her dreams now? No. It's never too  late. I'm alive, and I'm just in time.

She idly takes the hand of the dark-haired girl, squeezing it before turning her attention back to the crowd.

 STITCHES

With deft movements of his beak, Stitches preened an errant blue feather  on his shoulder. The kenku stood barely more than 5 feet tall, and  seated he seemed downright small. He was dressed in his usual leathers,  his tools and trinkets stowed carefully in pockets and secret folds, far  from prying eyes or greedy fingers.

He clapped his beak in  appreciation as he took the ale from Bonnie, then downed a few eager  gulps before letting loose with a bellowing belch, a perfect imitation  of Alastriona's own.

His head cocked a bit to the side as the  others bantered, before Prince's voice drifted melodiously out of his  feathered throat. "Something soulful, like Diamonds & Pearls,  maybe?" Stitches put his hands together and mimed leaning his head on  them like a pillow, then made the sound of a saw cutting a log.

He followed it with a snatch of Butler's words. "Something lively they can sing along" and pounded the table for emphasis.


[User]
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[User]
 How quickly a year passes. The scenery around the tower is green. The bugs are alive with energy again. The tower's keepers make their rounds through the greenery getting ready for today's tasks. It is before breakfast. People are barely out of bed and yet servant Yeong approaches you with a solemn face and a young village man behind him. " Ina ", he cries in distress.

" That lady isn't doing well ." He motions the young man forward. It's Seong-Hun. His mother has been ill this last month. Whatever treatments you or the others have given her have only slowed the process of her sickness. Behind closed doors it is said: she is doomed to die. But, Seon-Hun wasn't suppose to pick up her treatment for couple days...

Seon-Hun speaks up, " Mother refuses to get out of bed. She is weaker than she has been and her cough is worse. I've come to pick up the medicine early ." Making the medicine isn't too difficult. Even as a minor alchemist Ina should be able to put the finishing touches on another's work, or she has the privilege to borrow some medicine from storage. The sickness is strong though. Maybe, even magical. It'll take something just as strong to properly cure her.

 Spoiler: OoC
Do whatever you want. Feel free to hit some knowledge checks up (take 10 might be enough) to see if your character knows anything that might help. Or do you already have an idea?

[User]
 The scholar, dressed loosely in a morning robe, has been awake for a few hours already, sitting atop an artfully carved stone in the grounds of the tower, a book in her hand and a pot of tea gently steaming beside her. She takes a sip of the tea as Seong-Hun explains his problem, her gold eyes fixing him with a kind, understanding scrutiny. Quietly she closes the book and places it down beside her, sliding gracefully off the rock to land in front of the lad, placing a strong hand on his shoulder.   "It will be ok, Seong-Hun."   she says, trying to put as calming an element as she can into her tone.   "Come with me to get the medicine, and we shall see if I can find a way to strengthen it. But one needs to be careful and calm with these things. Fighting a disease is like walking a rocky mountain path. It is scary and dangerous, but going too fast, and with panic in your mind makes it only more dangerous. So have a sip of tea."   she explains, pointing to the tea as she closes her eyes, pursing her lips as she considers a few methods to help.

 Spoiler: Rolls
Diplomacy to keep Seong-Hun calm  (1d20+10)[ 14 ]
Know(Arcana) to see if there are any directly magical solutions  (1d20+13)[ 14 ]
Know(Nature) to see if there are any herbal solutions  (1d20+7)[ 8 ]


[User]
 The town lays in ruins. Where once the homes of local farmers and craftsman stood along the road, burnt foundations remain. The fencing around pastures near by are oddly cut to splinters and the livestock missing. The smell of smoke still lingers in the air. Strangely, the town’s wall still seems in good repair. The gates seems undamaged. Clearly the rumors are true. The Goblins have grown bold. This town is only a day’s travel from the capital of Salhedine and is larger than they would normally target. To take this town, they would have need to new tactics and weapons. Something peculiar was definitely happening.

The local goblin tribes have been a nuisance for years. They raided farms, stole equipment, and harassed travelers. But they have never been enough of a problem for Troven Molrill, the local Governor to pay for an expedition to run them out of their cavern lairs.

But that has changed. For months now the goblins have been acting strange. Their raiding parties have been larger and bolder. Thefts included copper, tin, brass, leather, and iron instead of just food and valuables. Entire small towns have fallen to these new, concerted goblin attacks.

Survivors speak about the powerful new weapons the goblins wield. The goblins used to arm themselves with crude clubs, stolen weapons, and small bows. Now they have firearms that blast steam instead of smoke, swords that screech with spinning blades, and poisoned darts launched from tall hats. Their raiding parties now come calling in airships instead of riding goblin dogs. Some of these goblins even have entire limbs of brass and steel that leak steam. The Governor has decided that it is time to end this threat, and he is willing to pay well to get the job done.

The party has decided to seek more information about the Governor's Offer. Wanted posters posted around the local taverns and city halls say to contact Mayor, Garmon Curnan, of Salhedine who is acting as the contact for those that want to take the Governor’s offer. The bounty on Watchtooth Ambergris is currently at 10,000 gold pieces.

[User]
 Eiaf

Eiaf was in a rather firey mood.

This was, of course, nothing new, as that had been the way of things ever since the goblins had ransacked his tower. Almost everything he had owned - several years worth of research into how to meld memorization-based and spontaneous casting, a rather nice set of cookware, a whole shelf full of very expensive reagants - all of them had fallen to the disgusting creatures, though not before he had managed to kill several of them via fireball.

And so, upon joining another caravan of survivors fleeing the onslaught - and realizing that, with so many disenfranchised, there was sure to be a person willing to put up coin for their slaughter - he had promptly joined a band of like-minded individuals, which, to his surprise, had included a couple of goblins.

And so it was that, on their way into their latest pit stop, the Fluffy Duckling, that the elf had spotted the poster. Ripping it off the wall, he ushered the others over.

  "Come, come! Take a look here - 10,000 gold pieces for the head of Ambergris! Even split several ways, that's an awful lot of coin."   Eiaf smiled for the first time in a while, more than a little bit of avarice behind it.   "Who here thinks we should make a visit to city all and see what Mayor Curnan can tell us?"

[User]
 Recens

Excited to explore a new land, a new place recens looks around interested in the area. He is curious about the goblins, wanting to know their motives. He turns to Eiaf
 "Gold? Bah they are seninet creatures, with lives and..."  he pauses, then sees how much gold and yells "10,000 GOLD PEICES?Well best be going then. Come on Xaiver, grab my stuff

 Spoiler: OOC
Xaiver is my eildion btw


[User]
 Despord Ohio, 1935
   OOC

Micheal Bruns, the barkeep, swallows thickly. The air in "The Corporal's Pride" is the worst it's been since he's worked here, a rank scent of mildew creeping into his shirt and settling on his skin. The light, dangling from its cord, sways slightly as Mrs. Gull thumps away at her sewing machine in the apartment above the inn. There's been no new business, and the inevitable foreclosure sign seems to hang around Micheal's neck, stooping his tall, ungainly frame nearly double as he pours himself a drink of water from the pitcher on the bar. The dim light glints off the windows facing the street, barring the darkness from his vision with reflections of his own tiny world, chipping plaster, grubby counter and all.

A sudden knock, abrupt and solid. A neighbors dog gives a rattling bark, as the silence of night is broken. Micheal nearly chokes on his water as he straightens.
"Come in" he sputters. "Don't hang about in the street."

[User] Far back in the depths of the bar, Jack Whitehall jerks awake at the table where he's been sitting. He glances down at his watch, silently curses his stupidity for misreading "p.m.", and hurriedly begins fixing his tie and shirt, cognizant of just how useless his efforts actually are.

[User]
 At the bar Leonard takes another swig of coffee and grimaces.  The taste is terrible, but it's probably the only thing keeping him awake at the moment.  So he decides he'll just have to bear with it for now.  He has been awake since yesterday perusing through old newspapers and a couple journals of a few of the early settlers of the town.  Even now at the bar he has one of the journals and is jotting down notes in his notebook.   I'm almost finished with this one.   He thinks to himself.   I'll turn in after just a few more hours.
His fatigued mind is suddenly brought away from his work by the bartender coughing up the water he had been drinking.  As the bartender beckons for the new arrival to enter Leonard turns to see the new guest in the near deserted bar.

[User]
 The door clatters open - a little harder and it would have fallen off its hinges, and a brusque Frenchman strides in, a blackrobe priest in his forties. He stomps up to the bar and takes a seat.

 "Beer, Mr. Bruns, and bacon if you have it."  He tries to pat the grime out of his clothes, making a little cloud of dust around him.  "There are some other folks on the street, you have a good night before you."

Fr. Brunet kicks a leg out to the left, glancing hardly about. A few regulars, a new face or two.

 "Mon dieu, Leonard! You have all the look of a man run down by a bull!"

[User] Collin, who had been slouched at a table in the corner, looking over a tome that looked five times his age, stood up. He walked toward the bar with his empty glass, ignoring any of the patrons that he happened to pass, "More of the same," he said, setting his glass upon the stained bar.

[User] Leonard let's out a small chuckle at the priests comment and gives him a tired smile.   "Careful Father, I may not speak french but I know enough to know that you shouldn't be using that language."   He takes another sip of coffee and make a conscious effort not to make a face as he swallows.   "I've just been awake a lot longer than I should be.  I'll be of more sound body and mind as soon as I've finished with this journal and have had a rest.  So what brings you here Father?"

[User]
 Originally Posted by _volcan_
 Collin, who had been slouched at a table in the corner, looking over a tome that looked five times his age, stood up. He walked toward the bar with his empty glass, ignoring any of the patrons that he happened to pass, "More of the same," he said, setting his glass upon the stained bar.

 Originally Posted by ElementalHymn
 Leonard let's out a small chuckle at the priests comment and gives him a tired smile.   "Careful Father, I may not speak french but I know enough to know that you shouldn't be using that language."   He takes another sip of coffee and make a conscious effort not to make a face as he swallows.   "I've just been awake a lot longer than I should be.  I'll be of more sound body and mind as soon as I've finished with this journal and have had a rest.  So what brings you here Father?"

"More of the same it is," the barkeep mumbles, making his way to the collection of stained bottles, where he pours Collin a glass of a questionable looking substance. Still holding the cup, he address the priest, just as Leonard finishes. "Yeah. Why here? How many more outside?" His voice is louder than intended, and it cuts across the room, leaving a void of sound behind it. He sets the glass down. "Just so I can fix up rooms..."

 Originally Posted by DoctorFaust
 Far back in the depths of the bar, Jack Whitehall jerks awake at the table where he's been sitting. He glances down at his watch, silently curses his stupidity for misreading "p.m.", and hurriedly begins fixing his tie and shirt, cognizant of just how useless his efforts actually are.

The bar's louder than it's been since Jacks been here, and the noise is worming itself into a knot of a headache, lodged in his temple.

[User]
 "You'd be much the better off in body and soul if you'd lay off that Mahometan swill you're drinking,"  the priest grumbled to himself.

 "It's damp out, I need a Christian drink to fortify the soul."  Michael brought around a mug of beer. No bacon. Such is life.

 "I was at the graveyard just before. We put Mrs. Harris' husband to rest today. Poor woman. He was a few years older than me. Requiescat, et cetera."

He took a deep draft from the mug, but choked and beat his breast. He turned to the barkeep and wheezed,  "Two men. I think there was a woman speaking too, so maybe three.

[User] With a growl, Jack slaps his hat down on his head, pulling it far down over his eyes, and walks up to the bar beside the priest. "Neat whiskey and a water," he mumbles, slumping down in the new seat.

[User] The door swings softly open and a man enters with a gust of air. He is remarkably pale, clad in a long black coat, a black scarf and a black fedora with a thin package, wrapped in brown paper, under his arm. His eyes drift searchingly over the assembled patrons until he is hailed by a portly gentleman seated at a table towards the back of the bar. "Edward! Punctual as always." Edward smiles as he makes his way to the table seating himself across from the man and placing the package on the table. "Hello Mr. Gremski." "Is this the painting?" Mr. Gremski gestures at the package. "As you commissioned," "Fifty you said?" Edward nods and his companion places a collection of bills on the table on the table. Edward shuffles through them and then pockets them, sliding the package towards Mr. Gremski.

[User]
 Originally Posted by DoctorFaust
 With a growl, Jack slaps his hat down on his head, pulling it far down over his eyes, and walks up to the bar beside the priest. "Neat whiskey and a water," he mumbles, slumping down in the new seat.

 Originally Posted by agrimfuture
 The door swings softly open and a man enters with a gust of air. He is remarkably pale, clad in a long black coat, a black scarf and a black fedora with a thin package, wrapped in brown paper, under his arm. His eyes drift searchingly over the assembled patrons until he is hailed by a portly gentleman seated at a table towards the back of the bar. "Edward! Punctual as always." Edward smiles as he makes his way to the table seating himself across from the man and placing the package on the table. "Hello Mr. Gremski." "Is this the painting?" Mr. Gremski gestures at the package. "As you commissioned," "Fifty you said?" Edward nods and his companion places a collection of bills on the table on the table. Edward shuffles through them and then pockets them, sliding the package towards Mr. Gremski.

Jack's drink is mutely provided, as the bartender turns to watch the sum of money change hands from Gremski to Edward. He licks his lips, visibly. Outside, rain begins to patter, tracing lines down the glass. A man and woman enter, slightly somber, but with the unmistakable vigor of youth about them.
 "Good evening to you all" says the man, removing his hat to reveal short, chocolaty hair. He turns, addresses Micheal. "Mrs. Gull is still in the room above?"
As though summoned by his voice, a hacking cough rattles from the upstairs, followed by a leaden thump.
"She's up there" Micheal says, eyes still on Edwards money.

[User] Jack nods and mutters a "Good Evening" to the new patron of the bar. He downs the whiskey, and is about to turn and strike up a conversation with the Father when the thump sounds out, loud enough to be heard over the rain and what little business the bar has. His free hand darts inside his jacket, and he very slowly motions for the bartenders attention with the other. "This, uh, Miss Gull, was it? Does she have a tendency to faint suddenly? Or to knock over her sewing machine at strange intervals?"

[User]
 Originally Posted by DoctorFaust
 Jack nods and mutters a "Good Evening" to the new patron of the bar. He downs the whiskey, and is about to turn and strike up a conversation with the Father when the thump sounds out, loud enough to be heard over the rain and what little business the bar has. His free hand darts inside his jacket, and he very slowly motions for the bartenders attention with the other. "This, uh, Miss Gull, was it? Does she have a tendency to faint suddenly? Or to knock over her sewing machine at strange intervals?"

"Nothing for you worry about" Micheal said, reluctantly turning to face Jack. "The door to the upstairs isn't locked" he continued slowly, addressing the couple.
"Oh dear" the woman said, quietly. "I do hate bothering everyone. I'm sure she's alright, everyone."


[User]
 Meanwhile, Logan must make the decision of whether or not to continue fighting for his life. The ghosts of his past pull him toward the resignation of death, but the possibility of a new love urges him on toward life. But as Jean Grey observes, everyone Logan loves dies. And he has been especially unfortunate when it comes to the women he has loved.

A great strength of the movie is the focus on character. After character elements were spread a bit thin in "Last Stand", this was a welcome change. I truly cared about Logan and his loss and empathized with him in ways I never have in his previous film appearances. The dream sequences with Jean Grey were pivotal to this aspect of the film and actually gave more dramatic weight to "The Last Stand" retroactively! The overall pacing of the movie, although it can still be called an "action flick", is slower and more character driven, swapping out some big action sequences for engaging character development.
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[User]
 Otherwise referred to as mountain peak

Avengers, shma-vengers. it is time for the come back of Wolverine, the mutton-chopped mutant from that alternative Marvel franchise,With Iron Man taking a breather associated graven image Whedon beginning work on an Avengers sequel, The Wolverine provides a gap salvo during a new wave of comic-inspired movies. Technically, this can be truly Hugh Jackman's second solo journey because the adamantium-clawed Canuck with mutant healing powers, otherwise referred to as mountain peak. However, his earlier 2009 film was a mostly forgettable  prequel set before the big-screen's X-Men trilogy: the awkward title — X-Men Origins: Wolverine — was as bland because the film itself. Well, apart from that gap combat sequence. That was a factor of beauty.
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It's all rather sophisticated, however what it suggests that for the audience is that Wolverine is shortly crossing blades with ninjas, whereas additionally battling a venom-spitting villain in addition as temptation from the stunning Mariko, Yashida's grandchild.
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Hugh JackmanHugh Jackman reprises his role as Logan/Wolverine within the new film The Wolverine. (Ben Rothstein/Twentieth Century Fox/Associated Press) The Wolverine may justly be dubbed X-Men four, since it follows the events of 2006's X-Men: The Last Stand. (Like any sensible comic-inspired property, the timelines of the films ar slightly convoluted. Here's my best guess at however the flicks shake out.) The Last Stand's climax involves Wolverine forced to kill his love, Jean Grey, to prevent her from turning into the planet-gobbling force referred to as the Phoenix. when a surprising Second warfare gap sequence set in port, The Wolverine finds our furry hero in mutant vagabond mode. trying sort of a fifth member of The Sheepdogs, he is concealing during a Yukon forest, haunted by dreams of Jean.
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Just once Wolvie is at his lowest, he receives an invitation from Yashida, a Japanese man whose life he saved decades earlier. Wolverine does not have a reason to measure and Yashida has the solution: casting off the mutant healing powers that have unbroken him alive for quite a century. ahead of you'll be able to say "Snikt", mountain peak is drawn into a battle between the native Yakuza and therefore the youngsters fighting to manage Yashida's estate.
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X-Men fans will sheath their claws. the great news is that with The Wolverine we tend to finally have a movie warrant one in all Marvel's most enduring characters. It's all because of 2 elements: star Jackman in addition because the relocation to Japan. I've had the possibility to speak with Jackman nose to nose and he is one in all the foremost charming, genial people within the business. With the new film, a smidgeon of that personal magnetism shines through. whereas we do not have Jackman singing American state What an attractive Morning, each currently then he truly cracks a joke and it cuts through the gloom and humanizes the ugly hero. Rila FukushimaRila Fukushima stars because the assassin Yukio within the Wolverine. (Ben Rothstein/Twentieth Century Fox/Associated Press)
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The other advantage is that the new setting. Plunking Wolvie in East Asia sets him up as associate outsider, the Gaijin. Suddenly this philosophical system Norse is enclosed by a culture that prides ability and subtlety. a lot of of this facet of the book — the military of black-hooded ninjas, the image of Wolverine riddled with arrows and troubled forward — comes from the classic comic series by Chris Claremont and Frank Miller. sadly the big-screen adaptation does not create a lot of of however inhabitant Wolverine adopted the samurai's code. That omission and therefore the generic action components mark a incomprehensible  chance. as luck would have it it's offset by The Wolverine's robust Japanese forged. particularly,
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  Total Divas Episode 1
Model-turned-actress Rila Fukushima is that the good foil for Logan: Yukio, the red-haired assassin with a sneering smile. Compared to medium depictions of mag heroes like attendant, Iron Man, Spider-Man, the person of Steel et al, Wolverine stands apart. you may decision him merely Man Man as a result of, once you get right down to it, his super power is that the ability to survive. He endures. And with The Wolverine, he is got reason to measure once more.


[User] As you look for your first  victims  opponents, you notice two rich looking boys grooming their pokemon, a Pikachu and Bulbasaur.

[User]
 It seems like they are together. This region likes to double battle. Be prepared.  he whispers to Cid as he catches up with him.

 Good afternoon sirs. I was wondering if you two gentleman would care to battle with us.  He says to the two rich kids, trying to be as formal as possible.

[User]
 Cid straightens his shades and tries to avoid looking too sinister.   "I don't know, they have very nice looking Pokemon, I'm sure they are really strong trainers."

 Spoiler
 (3d6+1)[ 17 ]  Guile to pretend to be worried about them.

[User] GM response required. and be prepared to roll up a battle.

[User]
 The kids look at you as if you are below them.
 "Battle with you? I guess you are going to pester us until we say yes? Fine, we will battle with you, just to show you how our pokemon are better then your."
"Two on two?" The other one asks?

[User]
 Tom ignores the taunt as if it didn't even happen. He needed to think clearly if he wanted to win. Sounds like a plan to me.  he says as he releases his Treecko from his pokeball in a burst of light. He hope Cid choose the correct one to send out otherwise this would be a quick fight.
Gm who's pokemon are faster?

 Spoiler

Treecko 39/39 Speed is 8

[User] "Well, ok,"   Cid didn't hesitate, his choice of pokemon was obvious,   "Neb, show them what you can do,"   the Koffing bursts out several feet from Treecko and wisps of smoke begin to fill the air around him.

[User]
 Okay... I guess that I just launch an attack and such because our side is faster and just to get the battle going. :P

 Treecko. Let's hitem hard and fast, use pound on the Bulbasaur!

 Spoiler
accuracy: (1d20)[ 8 ](8)
damage: (1d8+16)[ 2 ](18)
If crit  (1d8+5)[ 1 ](6)

[User]
 Spoiler
Pretty sure I'll be going last at speed 5 but I'll post my attack.

Edu. Pokemon:  (2d6+1)[ 3 ]  to know that Bulbasaur is part poison.

Also could use a map so I can direct my burst attacks.

  "Neb, tackle the other one, but stay close to it."

 Spoiler
Accuracy:  (1d20)[ 18 ]
Damage:  (1d8+14)[ 17 ]
Crit:  (1d8+7)[ 11 ]


[User] whoops 😁


[User]
 Well, this is definitely not where you just were. For some this development may be fortunate, for others less so.

However, the more pertinent question would no doubt be "Where is 'here'?"

From your position on the ground, 'here' seems to be a perfectly flat area made of some kind of metal under a clear sky, the sun shining down on you.
All around you are people you have no recollection of ever meeting. Or maybe you did? Some of them hold vague similarities to memories that you can't place.

[User]
 Tall woman looked around her. She was wearing business suit, that gave her image of eriousness and elegance, but still managed to higliht her figure, that of an athlete, but still far from bodybuilder. She was build like a fighter and the way she stood and moved helped fufill that image. She stood firmly and scanned einvorment, as well as people around her, like she was analyzing how much of a threat they may be.
Two teenage girls and one adult man. In this situation it would be normal to ignore the kids and talk to the man first. Perfectly rrreasonable option to take.
 "Hey, you two!"  She approached the girls, raising a hand in friendly gesture and smiling in a way that was supposed to raise people's trust. There was something about this smile and her gesture. it was as if they were traiend to the point of becoming a habit. Like those of a politican.  "Little early for the Halloween."  Lighthearthed joke to break the ice, followed by a bit of forced laugh.  "You two seems to be lost and so am I. How about we'll stick together and find some answers?"  She asks, once she's close to them. While she's smiling friendly, there is something intimidating and dominating about her, something she cannot fully balance by her act, but combiend they give an impression of strong-willed person.  "Mayor Molly Hayes, you could heard about me on twitter and television. You kids remember television? Those oversized computers screens without the fun functions?"  She offers her hand to the closest of two girls and then the other, a gesture that shows she's treating them as adults.  "You two look awful lot like Spider-Man and Loki, by the way. You don't happen to be sidecks or any foolishness like that?" *

*-

 Spoiler
Ignore if they're in their civilian outfits.

[User]
 Loki

Loki was dressed in her trademark colors but in relatively pedestrian garb so, she at least, likely did not stand out to the odd young mayor as anything more than a fashion forward rocker teen. That is until she groaned, sat up, took one look at the almost chirpy mayor, groaned again and snapped her fingers making an Iron Throne pop out of thin air with a Disney genie* type puff of magic smoke.

Loki drifted lazily, still half asleep, through the air onto the throne.  This wasn't a replication of the tiny TV rendition either, this was that giant behemoth of furniture of the books.  It's more than a little obvious that Loki learned of the modern world through the filter of pop-culture at this point.

As Loki lounges she replies to Molly    "I  AM  Loki Laufeyson, Goddess of Mischief, daughter of Odin, child of Frost Giants, the Lie-smith, the Silver-Tongue, valued customer at the Bronxton Barnes & Noble."

She leans over her throne and peers down at Molly    "And I have no idea who you are Mrs. Hayes."

*  Loki would never admit it but she rips off a lot of her showmanship from Disney characters, especially Aladdin's genie, and tries to use fantastic displays of magic to get people to like her and be impressed by her.

 Spoiler
Hope the throne isn't too gaudy, just trying to set the tone of how she operates, subtlety or restraint aren't her style. 😛

[User] "It's Avengers thing, isn't it?"  Molly sighs, while putting few stray of her long hair on place in elegant gesture.  "Well, nothing can really suprise me with those guys." . She starts walking towards Loki, up through the stairs on "Iron Throne".  "I kinda even admire your style, reminds me of things me and my friends would do back at your age."  She looks around Loki's creation, with nostalgic eyes.  "Punching giant monsters, making knot out of zombies, going against Doctor Doom with silly plan and broken laser...fun times."  She looks almost sad, standing now before the girl at the throne.  "Dunno what are you, some new Loki, one of those legacy character guys, something else altogether, but have an advice from former teen hero."  She gets closer, her face, now horribly serious, starring right into oki's eyes.  "Stop fooling around before you'll get yourself killed."  She says and walks down. She looks at Spider-themed girl.  "Same goes for you, Spider-kiddo. Playing hero is fun, until somebody gets a bullet in the head, I know something about it."  She says, once she's down again.  "Now, lets see if we can find a way out of here. Hey, you there!"  She yells at the only other person in sight, the male.   "You don't happen to know where are we, aren't you?"  She says, once she gets close enough to be in range of casual talk with the guy.

[User]
 Loki

Loki glares at Molly, she didn't really have anyone to coddle her, other than Thor and Volstagg, so she lacked a mother figure. Suddenly she was thoroughly happy about that.

   "I'm not new. I'm THE Loki. The god Loki. I don't need a spinster to talk down to me or warn me. I've already died. I got better. I don't need to be condescended to by a has been a hundredth my age."

[User] "Yeah, Avengers thing."  Molly shrugs at Molly's pompous behavior.  "You got yourself reborn in body of a child. Sure you have power, but you also have mind of a child. It seems you like dying."  She says, turnign back to the kid.  "And now be good Lokiand do some magic to tell where we are. Or just skip that part and get us out of here."

[User]
 Loki

Loki flares up at the dismissive tone of 'be a good Loki'    "You are the SINGLE MOST POMPOUS, RUDE MORTAL I HAVE EVER MET! And I've spent entire parties in the same room as Tony ******* Stark!

You have no idea what my mind is like you arrogant troll, you've seen me for all of a minute and spoken to me for less! How dare you act so dismissive and unkindly to those you've only just met because they've not above the  American  drinking age.

If and when I use magic to leave where ever this place is it will be without YOU! Enjoy growing even more grey hairs here lady."

Loki poofs her throne away and creates an ACME anvil floating precariously over Molly

   "I can understand how your friends died you mewling quim. No doubt they had to deal with all the super beings you in your 'wisdom' insulted and condescended to!"

Loki is normally fine with people but Molly Hayes has pretty much indirectly called her stupid, dismissed her and ordered her around, all with very little basis or amiability, in very short order. Needless to say she doesn't take being treated so abrasively easily.

[User]
 "If that only were true."  Molly looks sadened for a moment. Then her eyes start raditing with purple light and her face changes grimace to that of anger.
She jumps towards Loki, grabs her by a throat and lifts up.
 "People wh owere like mother and father to me died because of Arcade. I lot another friend because of Thanos. Then another one died fighting Kree. My last friend was burned to death in explosion, caused by Purifers."  She speaks slowly and without any humor in her voice. But there is strong sadness there. It sounds like those words bring her pain.  "You know what all of these have in common? Avengers, X-Men and your friend Tony ****** Stark failed to deal with them properly, when they had a chance. You know, like with certain God of Mischief."  She looks angirly at Loki.  "What I'm trying to say is that the only reason I haven't yet snapped your neck is because I see something out of them in you. Think twice before you'll make me change that opinion."  She drops Loki on the ground.
 "And I wasn't even there, when they died. If I was, it probably wouldn't have happened."  She looks at Loki, but in her eyes you can see sadness. And something else. Guilt.

[User]
 Loki
 Okay, actually attacking me. This woman isn't rude she's psychotic.

Loki pulls herself away from Molly with a glare full of anger    "The ONLY reason you haven't snapped my neck is because I'm too powerful to be taken down by a lunatic mayor who threatens teens who get offended by her obtuse pontificating. If Thor was here he'd . . ."

A voice booms from a throne that has appeared from a pulsating purple light behind the group. A grin stretches across the figure's face.

  "Attacking children now Human. I'm impressed. Though I presume your friends would be less so. I wonder why in your universe you're the only one I could find."

 Spoiler
Illusion, but you don't get a save just for looking at it so it should but some time.

Hey, Loki's the goddess of Mischief, she was never going to just respond to Molly's violence with violence.

[User]
 For a moment, the being that just appeared looks haughtily at Molly, then it shatters. But it is not alone. The sky itself seems to break apart, pieces falling away revealing something not comprehensible to common minds.

The sun that had hung in the sky distorts and twists as your surroundings become indistinct. Yet, before the sky is completely gone, the sun seemingly goes nova, encompassing both of you in a bright haze. The two figures that had not yet woken shatter just as the being and sky had. Then there is white.

The moment lasts for a mere fraction of an eternity as the brightness recedes and you find yourselves confronted with 4 others and a VW bus and the weather has become rather foggy, a quick glance behind you allowing you sight of a humanoid arrangement of stars and galaxies, clad in golden armor.

It speaks as soon as the transition is complete.

 "This is unexpected."

OoC:

 Spoiler
Since the others didn't come. Join the eXiles Thread.