What a strange turn of events. After quite some time we meet the wizard Osiris again. He has spent much time among the folk of the city gathering information I suppose. While we scour the remains of the old gnomish city Jzadirune rumors spread of my presence. Of course this is all news to me. News of ill deeds. Rumors of evil acts. This is what comes to me after spending my time walking side by side with the ranger, the monk, and the crusader. Working for the church of Saint Cuthburt, trying to find kidnapped orphans, and risking my life; I find out that for my efforts I am now wanted by the city guards for murder. If only I could have had the pleasure of committing the crime for which I am accused. Perhaps I should make the authorities true to their word and sneak into the chamber of the mayor and slit the throat of his precious wife. Or mayhap his daughter is destined for early termination. While I'm not against being wanted for acts of an evil nature, which is always subject to debate, I take issue with being accused of crimes I did not commit. Of course rather than try to defend myself or prove my innocence (which no one in their right mind would admit), I prefer the idea of going on a killing spree. With each passing day I become more shadow than lizard. Some day soon there won't even be a whisper at my passing. The ranger, the monk, not even the crusader will be able to stand against the silent death I will deliver to anyone I wish. I may have been raised in a society that worships savage nature and brute strength, but I was shunned for my ideas and strange ways. Stealth will lead me to my destiny, my target, my future.
And I hope we find those orphans soon. I'm really looking forward to eating one.
Friday, May 31, 2013
Radioactive: GM entry 1
(This is completely fake)
This is what you saw on TV before you took shelter in the bunker.
Monday, May 27, 2013
Monday, May 13, 2013
Shackled City: Ruce Blackwind: Bio [2/3]
"I smell smoke"
"You smell shit."
"Smartass. I smell smoke."
"Shit. Shit and blood. That's all any of us smell."
"You're the only one that smells blood, Ruce."
Ruce Fairwind, growled and tried for the hundredth time to wipe at the trickle of blood tickling his upper lip, but both his hands were manacled out of reach, instead of just one like all the other orphans chained in the back of the feedlot. "Stupid S'ffron. He'll get his someday."
Gackt, a half-orc cub 3 years younger, but already the largest of the group sat up. "Threatening Master S'ffron s'what got you a bloody nose in the first place, baka."
"Oh yeah? Well….. shut up!"
"It's smoke. I know it's smoke."
"Gods, Yorby!" Ruce kicked his bed of hay at the younger boy, but the loose straws just fluttered about. "Give it a rest."
"Listen to the animals! They smell it too!"
Ruce sighed and bonked his head back against the wall. But then he frowned and actually listened. The horses and pigs were extra noisy tonight. He had been ignoring the animal sounds for so many years now; any night squeals were usually from the old elf owner getting drunk and beating the animals for fun, or one of his sons getting drunk and doing… other things. But this was - this was different. This was louder; longer; more panicked.
The six orphan boys sat and stared at each other in silence, straining to hear or see or even smell anything else. The animal wails grew ever more frantic, but in the pitch black of their cell, they had little more to go on until -
"Ow! Shit!"
"Bite your tongue again, baka?"
Ruce started to squirm. "No. The wall. It's getting hot. It's burning my back."
"Smoke! I see it! There! There!" Gackt's voice held fear in it for the first time ever that Ruce could remember. "Near the roof. FIRE! FIRE!"
The other boys looked around pointlessly in the totally dark cell, but joined their companion in screaming for help. Ruce strained and arched away from the wooden planks as much as he could, but the heat radiated through them none the less, and he didn't need to see or smell the smoke to know what was just a few feet behind him. The boys screamed louder and started coughing as the sounds of the burning complex started overshadowing the sounds of the crazed animals.
The door to the room burst open and S'ffron Fairwind stood, half naked, one side of his body smeared with mud, backlit by glowing smoke, and reeking of ale. He clearly had fallen asleep drunk somewhere nearby. A sense of deja vu strummed through Ruce. S'ffron wailed a single word. "RUINED!"
Six voices yelled at him at once. "Let us out! Unlock us! Free us! HELP!"
S'ffron stared at them in a daze. A huge crash thundered somewhere behind him and he turned and started to stagger back down the hallway. "I'm ruuuuuuined!"
"MASTER! Your KEYS!" Gackt's roar cut through all else, and perhaps for one moment, even the old elf's drunken haze. He reached into his pouch and pulled out a keyring, but then became lost in his stupor again, running off waving the jangling mass above his head and howling.
There was a tremendous crunching sound, and the searing planks suddenly bowed into Ruce's back, causing him to yelp.
"The roof is caving in!" Yorby screamed! There was an explosion of sparks through the door, and half a dozen boards splintered in half and flew apart around Ruce and Yorby, including the board one of Ruce's manacles was chained to. A burning roof beam jutted half way down into the room, eliciting more screams from the orphans. Flames quickly filled the gaps in the wall.
Ruce gulped. If he hadn't been "punished" and double chained in this spot, he would have been next to Yorby - and probably dead right now. As it was - he might not have much time left anyway. His right wrist was still chained to the burning wall, and his left hand was chained to a loose plank. He put his bare foot against the searing wood and tried to break off the board the other cuff was connected to, but he couldn't get any leverage.
"Yank it! Twist and heave!" the half orc yelled from the opposite wall.
"I'm trying!" Ruce choked through tears of smoke and pain.
"Bullshit! Take the pain. Pull free!"
"I'll tear my thumb off!"
"THEN TEAR IT OFF YOU HUMAN SACK OF --"
The ceiling beam crashed another 3 feet lower into the room and Ruce screamed and flailed backwards.
And out of his cuff.
He sat dazed for a moment - flopped back on his butt in the middle of the room. He looked at his right hand: all his fingers were still there, but the thumb and forefinger were obviously broken and bloodied.
Burning boards and shingles started falling into the cell, and catching the straw flooring on fire. The entire wall he and Yorby had been bound to was burning now and the other boy was screaming wild eyed in terror and trying himself to pull free from his one manacle. Ruce stumbled towards him, his hands both trembling, when a voice boomed behind him.
"GET THE KEYS! RUN!"
Ruce choked, and looked at the five faces of his mates: all filled with terror, and all looking back at him - their only hope. He turned and ran down the hallway after S'ffron.
He found him. Not far away. Dead. When your body and clothes were as soaked in gin as S'ffron's were, you don't last long in a burning barn. The keys were still clutched in his charred fingers. Ruce had to kick him twice before they released his prize. He bent down and grabbed the ring just as Yorby ran up.
Yorby looked ghastly. Half of his hair and face were blistered and black, and he was cradling his right hand which was gushing blood.
"What?…. What?…." Ruce stuttered
"Gackt," Yorby sobbed. "He bit off his own thumb to get out, then bit mine off to save me. The keys, Ruce. Hurry! Please!"
Ruce tried not to throw up. He nodded, then shoved Yorby towards the exit. "Get out! Get safe!" As soon as the younger boy nodded and turned, Ruce ran back into the hall towards the cell. Halfway there, he passed Vinnik, the youngest of their group, also staggering along with a blood soaked hand. He turned back to urge the boy towards the exit. "Go! Follow Yorby! Get to saf --"
There was a huge noise in his ears. He felt a hot wind and the sensation of flying. Then he felt nothing more.
"You smell shit."
"Smartass. I smell smoke."
"Shit. Shit and blood. That's all any of us smell."
"You're the only one that smells blood, Ruce."
Ruce Fairwind, growled and tried for the hundredth time to wipe at the trickle of blood tickling his upper lip, but both his hands were manacled out of reach, instead of just one like all the other orphans chained in the back of the feedlot. "Stupid S'ffron. He'll get his someday."
Gackt, a half-orc cub 3 years younger, but already the largest of the group sat up. "Threatening Master S'ffron s'what got you a bloody nose in the first place, baka."
"Oh yeah? Well….. shut up!"
"It's smoke. I know it's smoke."
"Gods, Yorby!" Ruce kicked his bed of hay at the younger boy, but the loose straws just fluttered about. "Give it a rest."
"Listen to the animals! They smell it too!"
Ruce sighed and bonked his head back against the wall. But then he frowned and actually listened. The horses and pigs were extra noisy tonight. He had been ignoring the animal sounds for so many years now; any night squeals were usually from the old elf owner getting drunk and beating the animals for fun, or one of his sons getting drunk and doing… other things. But this was - this was different. This was louder; longer; more panicked.
The six orphan boys sat and stared at each other in silence, straining to hear or see or even smell anything else. The animal wails grew ever more frantic, but in the pitch black of their cell, they had little more to go on until -
"Ow! Shit!"
"Bite your tongue again, baka?"
Ruce started to squirm. "No. The wall. It's getting hot. It's burning my back."
"Smoke! I see it! There! There!" Gackt's voice held fear in it for the first time ever that Ruce could remember. "Near the roof. FIRE! FIRE!"
The other boys looked around pointlessly in the totally dark cell, but joined their companion in screaming for help. Ruce strained and arched away from the wooden planks as much as he could, but the heat radiated through them none the less, and he didn't need to see or smell the smoke to know what was just a few feet behind him. The boys screamed louder and started coughing as the sounds of the burning complex started overshadowing the sounds of the crazed animals.
The door to the room burst open and S'ffron Fairwind stood, half naked, one side of his body smeared with mud, backlit by glowing smoke, and reeking of ale. He clearly had fallen asleep drunk somewhere nearby. A sense of deja vu strummed through Ruce. S'ffron wailed a single word. "RUINED!"
Six voices yelled at him at once. "Let us out! Unlock us! Free us! HELP!"
S'ffron stared at them in a daze. A huge crash thundered somewhere behind him and he turned and started to stagger back down the hallway. "I'm ruuuuuuined!"
"MASTER! Your KEYS!" Gackt's roar cut through all else, and perhaps for one moment, even the old elf's drunken haze. He reached into his pouch and pulled out a keyring, but then became lost in his stupor again, running off waving the jangling mass above his head and howling.
There was a tremendous crunching sound, and the searing planks suddenly bowed into Ruce's back, causing him to yelp.
"The roof is caving in!" Yorby screamed! There was an explosion of sparks through the door, and half a dozen boards splintered in half and flew apart around Ruce and Yorby, including the board one of Ruce's manacles was chained to. A burning roof beam jutted half way down into the room, eliciting more screams from the orphans. Flames quickly filled the gaps in the wall.
Ruce gulped. If he hadn't been "punished" and double chained in this spot, he would have been next to Yorby - and probably dead right now. As it was - he might not have much time left anyway. His right wrist was still chained to the burning wall, and his left hand was chained to a loose plank. He put his bare foot against the searing wood and tried to break off the board the other cuff was connected to, but he couldn't get any leverage.
"Yank it! Twist and heave!" the half orc yelled from the opposite wall.
"I'm trying!" Ruce choked through tears of smoke and pain.
"Bullshit! Take the pain. Pull free!"
"I'll tear my thumb off!"
"THEN TEAR IT OFF YOU HUMAN SACK OF --"
The ceiling beam crashed another 3 feet lower into the room and Ruce screamed and flailed backwards.
And out of his cuff.
He sat dazed for a moment - flopped back on his butt in the middle of the room. He looked at his right hand: all his fingers were still there, but the thumb and forefinger were obviously broken and bloodied.
Burning boards and shingles started falling into the cell, and catching the straw flooring on fire. The entire wall he and Yorby had been bound to was burning now and the other boy was screaming wild eyed in terror and trying himself to pull free from his one manacle. Ruce stumbled towards him, his hands both trembling, when a voice boomed behind him.
"GET THE KEYS! RUN!"
Ruce choked, and looked at the five faces of his mates: all filled with terror, and all looking back at him - their only hope. He turned and ran down the hallway after S'ffron.
He found him. Not far away. Dead. When your body and clothes were as soaked in gin as S'ffron's were, you don't last long in a burning barn. The keys were still clutched in his charred fingers. Ruce had to kick him twice before they released his prize. He bent down and grabbed the ring just as Yorby ran up.
Yorby looked ghastly. Half of his hair and face were blistered and black, and he was cradling his right hand which was gushing blood.
"What?…. What?…." Ruce stuttered
"Gackt," Yorby sobbed. "He bit off his own thumb to get out, then bit mine off to save me. The keys, Ruce. Hurry! Please!"
Ruce tried not to throw up. He nodded, then shoved Yorby towards the exit. "Get out! Get safe!" As soon as the younger boy nodded and turned, Ruce ran back into the hall towards the cell. Halfway there, he passed Vinnik, the youngest of their group, also staggering along with a blood soaked hand. He turned back to urge the boy towards the exit. "Go! Follow Yorby! Get to saf --"
There was a huge noise in his ears. He felt a hot wind and the sensation of flying. Then he felt nothing more.
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