Finding a Path 1

We're in a place with intelligent undead. It's actually very unnerving to me. I guess the theory of the uncanny valley does have more validation than I first suspected. I enjoy the company of the half-orc Slash. She's a kind soul, if strange even for a half-orc. The changes I've noted on her person make me wonder if she isn't something else entirely.
Hmmm... I'll have to ponder that a little more later.
Today however is full of it's own mysteries. Like why this place hates Warforged and how the hell a little halfling was able to throw one bodily from our inn this morning. Must've been his too large bracers. I wish I'd had more time to look at them.
We ate breakfast and argued a little amongst ourselves. Seems those with the loudest mouths are also those with the smallest minds. Typical. I was however able to procure a jar of jam. This mission is looking brighter already!

~0~

Malik, or Merrick the Warforged seems to have more of an aversion to undead that I. We found the tracks of his horse leading to the perfect ambush position and the devastated bodies of a goodly number of the undead soldiers that police this place whose name I can't recall. We won't be here for long so it doesn't really matter.
Luckily we were able to get rid of our giant. He was an uncouth being, hulking and stupid. And he dared to take away my biscuits and jam, the fiend! Wonderfully for him an earth elemental came crashing from above before Merrick could do away with him completely. The Warforged was kind enough to point us in the direction of a Bard. He's a silver tongued devil if I've ever met one, but he seems reliable enough, seems. I'll have to keep an eye on him and a finger over a potion or two. Just in case.

Enter The Alchemist

I looked at the paper in my hands with intense scrutiny. It seemed that the group that was on this particular mission kept loosing members. Fun. Checking the pocket mirror I kept close I made sure I was still in the right form. Silver white hair, check. Violet Red eyes, check. High nose and strong cheek bones, yup. Most importantly I was pale enough, not a hint of grey marred the sublime paleness of my skin.
Beside me in the small room was a halfling. He had a badger on his side and smelled of the crisp must of the outdoors. His leather armor was stained, his brown hair was mussed up, but all in all he looked very capable and as in-sorts as a Halfling can be.
I was early. Always early.
After about 15 minutes the gate master in his runed robes summoned the group I was supposed to meet; join. Subconsciously I readjusted the alchemist lab I wore on my back and tugged on the chain shirt hidden beneath my blue green, double breasted, long coat.
They were an odd bunch to be sure. A human looking noble, who could no long accompany them because he'd been 'marked'. I made sure to note this, advantages that I had always gave me a little flutter of excitement, I would need to remember it. He asked for my papers and looked them over along with the halflings. There was a dwarf, an orc female named Slash, A Gnole called Two Ears, a human druid who acted like an Orc... I believe his name was Thunk. A surly old dwarf cleric with an onyx horse whose name I cannot pronounce or hope to spell correctly. The Halfling I believe introduced himself as Gerrard. Finally a massive earth giant. I couldn't have asked for a better cross section of the world. My drawings and my observations will no doubt come in handy to farther my abilities; and keep me hidden.
We're traveling to the west now, seems we will be doing so for a week. I can't wait to try out my new bombs... I wonder what my new comrades will think.
~Flannery Out

The Fighter

It was hot. No... maybe it was cold. The amazon of a woman shook out her right hand and gripped the shield tighter with the three hale fingers on that hand. Didn't matter anyways, she'd lug her scale mail ass up whatever mountain she had to in order to bring the weird druid back to life.
The bard made of crystal hummed a jaunty tune to himself as they continued their trek and the halfling could barely be seen flitting from shadow to shadow; like a mouse evading the hawks that whirled lazily overhead. Damn birds. She hated birds. Standing regally on a boulder she shook her mean looking spear at the oblivious creatures. "And stay up there you feather brained cowards!!!"
The bard chuckled. "I don't think we have to worry about them Mara." He said with a more orangish glow that usual lighting up the blue of his crystal limbs. One hand held up the tattered end of a purple sash.
Brown eyes regarded him for a moment, the odd flecks of living sparks that winked in and out of existance in her irises as she thought over something. "We need to find this King and a map. He can't be king of the world."
The halfling shouted down that they were being too freaking slow.
Mara held her spear in the crook of her arm and retied her chestnut brown braid into a bun above a sun browned neck. "Yeah yeah, we're coming. First things first and all that crap."
"Don't worry, we'll get to the bottom of this." Arrd said winningly.
Mara tried to smile, but it looked like more of a snarl. "Good. Because I'm not serving no stupid make believe king. Damned purple sash crap, stupid gnome cities, stupid no Wage..." The mumbles continued as the woman clicked and clanked after the energetic Halfling.

The Pscion

"..." Illuminated violet eyes stare through the one who'd addressed the woman with short dark hair twisted on the back of her head into a psudo mohawk that nearly falls over one eye. Her skin, too, looks as if a dim light shines beneath it with a lilac hue. She raises one slender arm, points a delicate looking finger at the big burly man and flicks her wrist. The man follows the movement straight into the wall where he falls all over the coat rack and himself.
She says nothing. Her face is graceful and poisted as her bearing, like the face of some godess statue in a temple, tall and lean she moves to make her way back to her table where an odd collection of people watch with morbid fascination.
"Why you little!" The man struggles with his sword.
The woman snorts as if bored with the entire scenario. "Pathetic, you can't get close enough to hit me with that pig sticker." Her skin pulses slightly brighter as she speaks to the bulky man entangled in stranger's cloaks.
His face falls and he makes a half hearted attack.
Touching the crystal ball hanging in the chainmail net on her belt she holds up her hand as if telling a bar tender that she's had enough drink. No emotion flickers through her half lidded eyes as he flies out the door and into the street in a crumpled heap of moans and curses.
Unconcerned eyes turn to the fellows at the table the man had come from. "To answer your query I am Zii Azrifel, where I am from you can guess, where I am going is none of your concern; and no one can get in my way." Something flashed in her eyes for a moment before she glanced back to the table where a human teenager, a dragon borne, and a gith sat nonchalantly.
No one saw the ghost of a smile that touched the forever neutral line of her purple lips.

The Ranger

My name is Cynica Arsina-Trissade...

"The things that hunt me are none of your conscern, but if you must know trouble follows me. I've been called many things; disaster incarnate, dark lady luck, bad side of the coin, whatever it's of no matter to me what frightened fools shout while avoiding my shadow. I tend to ride the wave just ahead of bad tidings and those with plans of their own, or simplistic ideals, haunt my path time and again. Really, there's no need to worry. Betwixt my arrows and my steel they shouldn't hinder our progress." Her eyes, green and luminescent, sparkle just a bit with a confidence earned. Dark tendrils of hair, broken by thorns and blades, touch the light tan of her face. One would not consider her half elf just by looking at her, the points of her ears were too rounded, her grace was well hidden behind the musculature of her body and the green black leather of her armor. But those eyes, they gave her away, bright and glorious even in the half light of the tavern.
A long sword swung on one hip, a gladious strapped to her lower back, and a short bow hung across a quiver on her back. One could tell they were as much a part of her as her arm, even more so than the thick braid of black hair that hung over her left shoulder. "Besides," she continued before the blonde man dressed in the high fashion of Central could say anything in return. "you need me. An army though you are, you can't deny that fact." She winked at the red head standing to one side in her red battle skirt and chainmail before downing her ale in one long swig. "So... Who are we screwing over this time?"

The Desert of Silence

I stand here in this desert, completed art in hand but no scanner with which to transfer it to the internet.
There is no role playing here. Only the monsters that pull separate adventurers in order to prey upon their minds till they are numb drones.
This desert is too quiet, too still, where are the dorito crumbs and discarded beverage cans? I can hear no guffawing laughter nor does the wind carry promise of relief from this waste that has overtaken the NerdKingdom.

Sir Jex and I may have to start a colony soon. I'm sure I could help him dig a well that could banish this fell wind and quench the parched ground. Soon, I hope, we'll make a journey into the wastes and find others not unlike ourselves to rebuild the NerdKingdom, maybe even beyond it's former glory.

We've lost Will, Mad Matt, and aDaM to the currents of college, work, and *gasp* relationships. And now Jex and I are moving to a different corner of the NerdKingdom, one as uncharted as the last. But there is always hope.... I hope.

The Epic of the Sheildless continues

Jex has a habit of making the PC's squirm along with they're players. Lots and lots of squirming. First we start off being timed to run away from an ARMY of dragon born and their war hound/lizard/ish things. We get stopped by wild boar, crocodiles, rivers, and so forth. Did I mention we were being timed? THEN we hear girls calling for help and our knight (actually fighter, but he was playing 'knight in shining armor'), also called Verdant of the azure blade, has to go rescue them. We're having a hard enough time rescuing ourselves. Zii and he get into a huge argument, but they end up going to see what the commotion was about. Turns out... it was a trap. Yeah.

After that there's the endless caves of ARGH! that's not really what they're called, but that's what the players wanted to call them. We found an NPC that got us across a busted arrow trap (the dude's a tank named Aeramus) at the price of finding a magic sword. Ran into occultist cyclops and nearly got dragged semi-willingly into a demon temple to a dead god that may or maynot have something to do with Tacit's life. Then to top off the nice runaround-from-hell sundae add a black dragon in his layer... with lots and lots of acid water... yeah. After that the dragon we thought we just killed comes back after our NPC healer Eratar bites the dust along with spider cult goblins and a drow priestess.... deep breath... our party nearly got wiped out. We literally survived by the skin of our teeth.
As per-usual all I can say is: "well... it was the farthest thing from boring ever."

Also I'm going to change up the posting style of this blog to a more story-esque form. It'll be easier for me to write and in the end more enjoyable for the couple of people still following.