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Comments
Results of disembowel testing | Knight limb counter | GMCP AB files
You quickly utter "Duanathar" and your wings flare with power before swiftly
carrying you up to on the clouds.
On the clouds. (indoors)
The ground is slick with ice. A ladder of long, soft leaves comprises a wispy
Weaver's Fern along the ground. An obsidian eye sigil is here. A fiery efreeti
spins madly here. A tumbleweed drifts about nearby. There are 5 holocaust globes
here. Holocaust King Aegoth Aristata, the Commandant of Baelgrim is here. His
features are obscured by a mask of lifevision. He wields a disfigured staff of
kindled birch in his left hand and a blackened cavalry shield with ivory accents
in his right.
You see exits leading north, northeast, east, southeast, south, southwest, west,
northwest, up, down, and in.
Your feet get tangled in the tendrils of a creeping vine, and you go sprawling.
I got into a spur of the moment spar when some people showed up wanting to use the arena. I lost. But I made some headway!
@Navarr hasn't had much time to log in for this event, but he still manages to pull his character into the setting, the tension, the loss, and helps me do the same.
I've been cleaning up the UI on Blowtorch. Which became a cluttered mess. So, playing, navigating, and fighting is a lot easier now.
I also stocked up on tuns and minerals now that the city is back. Learned some class skills from the laboratory alchemist. Hot damn it's good to have the lab back.
Until now.
The soul of Ashmond says, "Always with the sniping."
(Clan): Ictinus says, "Stop it Jiraishin, you're making me like you."
That love soon might end You are unbreaking
And be known in its aching Though quaking
Shown in this shaking Though crazy
Lately of my wasteland, baby That's just wasteland, baby
Biagio, the gravedigger says, "If you keep that up, we are going to run out of room even faster. Leave the damn stones alone and put them in the ground."
Upon finishing the grave, Synthus hauls himself from the earthen depths, striding over to the pile of corpses. With a hitched breath, he reaches forward, taking one of the smaller bodies from the pile to bury. Stopping mid-step, he turns to look at Biagio, a furrow on his brow at the gravedigger's words.
Biagio, the gravedigger sighs as he leans against his shovel for a moment to peer about the mostly frozen graveyard, "Going to run out of room eventually, all things considering..."
You say to Biagio, the gravedigger with a Theran accent, "Do we even have enough room for those here? Even if we were to bury two or three together without dignity or grace?"
Biagio, the gravedigger says, "No piling them. One by one, as we have always done."
Biagio, the gravedigger says, "I'm assured, -eventually- the fields near hear will be cleared."
Biagio, the gravedigger says, "I hope sooner rather than later."
You say to Biagio, the gravedigger with a Theran accent, "Good..."
You say with a Theran accent, "We will need them..."
To whomever was playing Biagio at the time, thank you for a wonderful first NPC interaction.
Nothing like bonding with citymates over tears and grave digging. And thanks again for your beautiful artwork, Ryssa! I wasn't there to see the exact scene you depicted IG, but it certainly fits with the mood I was getting from that group effort last night, and from the looks of the graveyard there will be more moments like that to come.
Enjoyed awakening from dormancy. Since I've been back I've killed a wizard that seemed important for reasons I can't really be bothered reading into (got an honourable unnamed mention in the events news as "the irritable Mhaldorian"), rose through some rankings, bought some credswag, got to participate in a battle against some lag, lack of yellowink and Tsol'teth (the lag and lack of yellowink were far more oppressive), and learned why one of my scripts wasn't working all this time since I made it last year. Good to be back, thanks for the welcomes everyone
(Party): You say, "Since we are discussing it OOC, I'll let you know that I'm from Australia."
(Party): Mariya says, "That does explain a number of things."
Loads of people helped, but I give special thanks to @Thule for incessant bashing partnership (even when I really didn't feel like it), @Tasus for his talisman of custody and resulting absorption of probably an entire level of XP loss overall, the several Mhaldorian buds who gave me profithyst or sold at a low price, and @Stheno for the caning rather than the executing...
Dragon is probably not a reason for such a long post but I had to give my thanks!
The ground in the graveyard is frozen, cold and icy, and still the piles of bodies grow. Three of them now, with corpses large and small...far, far too many of them small. One could look at them and despair of ever burying them all.
Yet the diggers dig, braving the elements, breaking through the frozen ground one grave at a time. A Red Dragon breathes flame above the icy surface, heating and thawing it. A Xorani breaks ground with his shovel, digging slowly at first, then more quickly as he breaches the quickly-refreezing topsoil. Siren and Horkvali solemnly lift a body from one of the piles, carrying it over to the grave and gently laying the still, silent form into its final resting place. A Human murmurs prayers and benedictions as the dirt is shoveled back into the graves, and an Atavian blinks back tears as she hefts the heavy marker into place.
Although the grim task may now seem insurmountable, in time it will be completed. The fallen will be laid to rest, with all the honor and respect that they are due. Winter, though harsh and daunting, must give way to spring.
Spring will come, Cyrene.