[a / b / c / d / e / f / g / gif / h / hr / k / m / o / p / r / s / t / u / v / vg / w / wg] [i / ic] [r9k] [cm / hm / y] [3 / adv / an / cgl / ck / co / diy / fa / fit / hc / int / jp / lit / mlp / mu / n / po / pol / sci / soc / sp / tg / toy / trv / tv / vp / x] [rs] [status / ? / @] [Settings] [Home]
Settings   Home
/tg/ - Traditional Games

File: 1347844241781.jpg-(44 KB, 646x363, letteseal.jpg)
44 KB
Mervin, my dear brother, I know how boring and droll you find life in the capitol so I thought I’d send you this letter detailing a most scandalous affair that I was recently witness too. Word of what happened will no doubt reach the court in time, but I felt like I should give you firsthand account.

I was recently invited to a banquet held by Baron Errol Vesik at his estate, he was playing host to a group of dignitaries from TeeGee. Now I can already see you rolling your eyes at mention of those heathens, but read on.

Now apparently a member of their delegation, a ‘Sir’ Dustyn, had never been to a formal event in Mirthterrah, not I suspect any formal court even anywhere. The man’s dress indicated that he was probably no more than a minor noble as best in his lands. While his cloth was clean and of good quality, it was without adornments and possessing only the simplest of embroidery. I myself had no direct interaction with him, but I learned from those that did that he was a somber character of few words and even fewer manners. I’m sure you are aware of the cavalier attitude most diplomats from TeeGee take with regards for our social idioms, but apparently this man was even coarser. You should have seen him at dinner, sitting there as if his food was trying to talk to him. I even saw the diplomat next to him whisper in his ear a number of times, no doubt trying to coach the poor fool in proper table etiquette so that he didn’t look even more like a buffoon.
File: 1347844524724.jpg-(64 KB, 500x704, 554893210498.jpg)
64 KB

I can hardly believe what am I about to write next, but this man’s Felim companion had better manners than he. You know how they all keep pets, and how they don’t treat them as such. I also know your feeling on the subject so I shall keep the next part brief. Anyway, this Felim, I believe her name was Sanya, at least knew her place. She was dressed in a rather simple dress and white and black, with lace embroidery. I don’t think she spoke but a few words the entire night; she spent most of her time all but clinging to her owner. So she was quiet and at least presentable, not much more you could ask for.

I was amazed that after making a complete fool of himself at dinner, this ‘Sir’ Dustyn stayed around and did not take his leave as some of the guests did. Instead he took up station in a corner of the gallery in which we decided to take out after dinner sitting, and just, for lack of a better term, watched everyone in a most ungentlemanly manner. It was at this point that things became more interesting. Now in case you were unaware, Baron Vesik has more than a bit of a reputation of becoming rather brazen after partaking of wine and spirits. So it was to no one’s surprise that after several glasses of wine at dinner and some brandy afterwards, the Baron became quite excitable and began regaling us with some of his past exploits. Now just like his drinking habits, it is rather common knowledge that the good Baron is in fact, quite proficient with a blade. And while I know that was more than a little embellishment to some of his stories, I know for fact that they are all true to some degree or another.

After a short explanation expounding one style of fighting over another, the envoy from TeeGee suddenly spoke up. He said that their own Sir Dustyn was a practiced swordsman, and quite the authority on fighting back in their land. I could see at once that the supposed fighter did not enjoy attention being drawn to him, a fact that seemed to go completely unnoticed by the young diplomat. Baron Vesik on the other hand, would have none of it. He immediately declared that “savage, heathen animal-fuckers” knew nothing of real fighting styles. The uproar from the few TeeGee citizens in the room was immediate, but their protests were nearly drowned out by the support of the rest of the guests for the Baron. This Dustyn character simply stood silently in his corner taking things in as if he were nothing but a casual onlooker. Emboldened, the Baron continued his assault. His insults were brought to an abrupt halt, however; as Dustyn suddenly spoke. His composure and coolness of head was commendable, but I will never forget the words that he spoke. “Sir, I would ask that you watch your tongue, or you might find it cut from your mouth.”

The look on the diplomat’s face was almost as priceless as that on the Baron, I thought the man was about to expire from apoplexy right there. The Baron for his part was completely robbed of words, as was everyone else in the room. After some failed starts, the Baron eventually was able to launch himself into a most spectacular rage. Between curses and insults, Baron Vesik made what would become probably the worst mistake of his life. At some point in his verbal assault, he said something of the effect that he was a better swordsman than any heathen could possibly be and that he would like nothing more than to kill him where he stood. It was to everyone’s great surprise then, I honestly though the outlander’s diplomat was about to feint, when Dustyn suddenly produced a dagger from somewhere on his person and said that he was more than inclined to finish things right there with the Baron. Thankfully, cooler heads would prevail right then; Baron Vesik’s majordomo stepped in at that point at declared that a challenge had been made. While I must say that I don’t think a duel challenge was technically issued within the established court rules, knowing what I do now, I am simply glad that no one came to blows in the gallery.

The details were worked out rather quickly. Baron Vesik declared that no matter the weapon or style he would defeat the outworlder. The man of TeeGee simply asked if the fight would be to the death, to which the Baron asked if he was scared if it was. The man, the deviant, had the gall to laugh in the baron’s face before walking out. The mood having suddenly turned so serious, most of the guests decided to take their leave at that point. Myself and a few of the more curious or adventure inclined nobles decided to stick around and see things though.

Well the next morning we all arose bright and early and made our way down to the Baron’ dueling field. Baron Vasik arrived in short order, along with most of the TeeGee delegation. Of Dustyn however, there was no sight of the man. We waited for a number of minutes, the TeeGee envoy growing more nervous by the second. The Baron was assured by his majordomo that the man had not fled in the night, for he had made sure to lock all the doors and windows in the guest wing and posted guards. He even said that he had checked in on him that very morning to make sure he was awake. Even still, the Baron sent one of his armsmen up to the manor to investigate. The man returned shortly with word that Dustyn was in fact still at the manor, and that he was taking his breakfast. For some reason many of the outrealmers found this to be most funny; the Baron was not amused. He immediately sent the man back with order to bring his opponent with him. After another short wait, the man did return with Dustyn and his Felim in tow.

Many of us were surprised to find him dressed not in his previous night’s clothing, as the rest of us were, but indeed dressed for a duel. The Baron expressed his annoyance and displeasure with having to wait, to which the deviant only replied: “I like to do my killing AFTER breakfast.” While I cannot fathom as to how such a statement could be so humorous, it drew even more laughter from his countrymen. He then proceeded to have a short chat with some the other outrealmers and then with his Felim. I will admit that there was a point as which I thought the two were going to kiss (a most revolting thought I agree), but instead only rubbed their noses together. I will not pretend to understand these heathen’s ways. The outrealmer finally took position several paces away from the Baron and stood ready, with his hands clasped in front of him. It was most curious; he carried no sword, only a pair of daggers on either side of his belt and a strangely shaped pouch on his right hip. I even noted that some of the men in his party talking amongst themselves with coin pouches in hand, taking bets.

Now I must tell you brother, never in all my year have I ever witnessed, or even heard of, what happened next. Baron Vesik, bordering on another fit of rage, took up his rapier and advanced on the outrealmer, fully intent on killing him if the look in his eyes was any indication. The outrealmer, this Sir Dustyn of TeeGee, stood his ground with an almost serene look on his face. When the Baron was about five paces from him, the outlander suddenly reacted in a blur of motion; drawing and raising something form the pouch he wore at his side. I still cannot tell you exactly what happened, for I myself am still unsure. All I know is that there was a noise like thunder, and a massive gout of smoke and flame erupted from the device the outrealmer held. When the smoke cleared and our ears stopped ringing, the Baron was laying on the ground. At first I thought the Baron dead, struck down my some spell, but it soon became clear that he was not, for he began to moan in awful pain. The betting men of the TeeGee delegation exchanged their coins.

I later inquired about the device and was hastily told that it was called a “gun”. Further questioning was met with stonewall silence. From what little some other nobles have been able to tell me of the device, I learned that it is some unholy amalgamation of magic and alchemy of which only the outrealmers have knowledge of. Whatever these “guns” truly are I am uncertain, but they inflict wounds not unlike those of a crossbow, at least from what I could tell. Placing the “gun” back in its sheath, Dustyn then advanced on the Baron, drawing one of his knives, intent on finishing the other man off. It was then that the Baron’s second, one of his own sons, Marko, drew steel and interposed himself between his father and the outrealmer. The man from TeeGee simply drew his other dagger and met him head on.

While I know little of the fighting arts (you were always the more martially inclined of us), I can say with certainty that when the outrealmer’s diplomat said that Sir Dustyn was an authority on fighting, he meant it. I have been witness to a number of displays of martial prowess in my time, but never have I seen move like he did. He moved and contorted his whole body in strange, but very specific ways, dodging and deflecting attacks. After have been rebuffed several times by this strange fighting style, the Baron’s son was so put off that he must have left himself open, because the outrealmer suddenly surged in and attacked. Even more strangely was how he used his weapons; using not only the blades to cut and stab, but striking the young man about the head and chest with a blinding flurry of blows from the pommels of his weapons as well. The vicious assault was finished by a dastardly kick to the side of one of Marko’s knees. The sound of breaking bone is most sickening.

With his son now also grounded and screaming in pain, Baron Vasik was able to compose himself enough to take his sword back up, but it was for naught. The outrealmer simply kicked the weapon from the Baron’s weakened grip and fell upon him. With his knee on the Baron’s chest, the outrealmer leaned down and spoke something into the Baron’s ear. I know not what he said, and I have not the heart to ask after what happened next. The Baron cried out in pain upon being jabbed in the arm with a dagger, and the outrealmer quickly set to work, shoving hand and blade into poor Vasik’s mouth. It was a horrifying scene; Baron Vasik made the most dreadful noises. When he was finished, the one called Dustyn stood up and tossed the Baron’s own tongue back down to him. He then cleaned his blades off and walked away. The delegations diplomat was as white as a sheet, holding a hand to his mouth. Never before have I seen such a man distraught.

As for the outrealmer Dustyn, he and his Felim “companion” left for their homeland not several hours after the duel. The other member of the delegation stuck around for a while longer and I believe they all left the next day. There was some things they had to clear up concerning the duel, and if what had transpired was within court rules. Eventually they were able to argue that because the Baron had stated that he would use any weapon or technique, that the use of a gun was within the rules, and that the maiming was not malicious as the duel was originally supposed to be to the death. The Baron’s son made a full recovery (debatable, I don’t think his pride will ever heal) with the help of the manor’s resident healing mage. The Baron himself however is still in a sorry state. The healer was able to stop the bleeding of his gut wound, but the Baron still complains of pain and discomfort in his abdomen. They were also unable to fix his tongue.

So there you have it dear brother, my own little adventure. I know not why father sent you to the capitol and not me, you must have earned his ire at some point. For this one time though I am happy for such a turn of events, however; otherwise I would have never been witness to what I have written above. I hope this finds you in good health and spirits, your brother, Elastor.
To: Sir Fearghaile

I take back what I said before about wanting to assign Blades attachés to all the diplomatic parties. I don’t know how you lot do it. I’m not sure if even my most disciplined men could stand going to diplomatic functions without killing themselves or anyone else if half of them are anything like the one I was subjected to. Just do me a favor and at least give me regular reports on your visits, I know you’re pretty good at what you do, but some things that might seem trivial to you might be important to me. Oh and sorry in advance if there is any fallout from what happened, I think everything was cleared up by the time I left. Try not to be too hard on that guy you assigned me to, I think I subjected him to enough stress already. -Howle
This is part two of the Tale of Knight Cyric, I felt like the poor chap deserved a bit more closure than what I gave him.

You can find part one in the last thread if you want. Be warned, this is not a happy story, the first part wasn’t and this one won’t be either.

My justification here is that so many people are already writefagging the happy stuff that we need a little bit of Brothers Grimm in the mix to balance things out.

Three years have passed since the small group of scouts under the command of Knight Cyric was nearly slaughtered to a man by the villagers of a small northern settlement known as Vismurd.

The only survivor of that endeavor told his tale to a select few beyond what he reported to the high command before he retired and faded into obscurity but his tale brought a chill to all those that heard it.

A stark reminder that this world was still very much a danger and that unknown entities slumbered that were better left alone,
for a time high command encouraged more caution and discretion in its scouting bands never sending less than thirty to unfamiliar towns and settlements and cautioning

the groups that any sign of the arcane in their explorations should not be interfered with, investigated, or approached without an expert on hand to give council.

As time passed these restrictions became lax and eventually were paid little heed by the ambitious explorers of Teegee.

Meanwhile Cyric still wanders from area to area infiltrating and systematically murdering in towns and traveling caravans unable to rest under the control of his vampiric spouse as

she urged him to take ever increasing amounts of blood to sustain and invigorate her. Cyric quickly gave up pleading for the lives of the women and children, when he begged for their lives

The Lady would simply smile and order him to consume them slowly in front of the others, he eventually came to recognize this as her demonstrations of jealousy.
Cyric has grown adept at mastering his newfound monstrous powers in the time of his wandering,

gaining unholy regeneration against all weapons unblessed by fire or divine energy and learning to conceal his monstrous form for the sake of infiltration in addition to his inhuman strength.

Long since gone mad, Cyric remembers little of his life at Teegee and what little he does remember is as painful as the light of the sun to him, his onetime waifu, the elven maiden Yonnah burns in his memory like a torch that refuses to gutter out.

From time to time he simply mutters her name under his breath although this causes The Lady to inflict fresh torments on his mind every time.

Despite all the blood and flesh Cyric has consumed in his restless march across the land, his victims numbering in the hundreds, The Lady cannot sustain a corporeal form.
File: 1347845453235.jpg-(13 KB, 250x250, Cyric.jpg)
13 KB
This, she explained to him in her patient and deceptively gentle manner was because her real body had been thoroughly destroyed two centuries past when

Elves, men, and dwarfs had assaulted her stronghold and it had taken all her stored power and safeguards to simply remain as an incorporeal specter.

Spending decades cautiously gathering her strength, slowly planting ideas and thoughts in the minds of the humans who had settled in the shadow of her mountain, instigating a cult of blood sacrifice to a god they didn’t even realize was the former vampire lord.

Once she was finally able to do more than simply afflict dreaming mortals with nightmares and visions she began to set in motion the events that led Cyric to her.

One day as the sun sets on the horizon Cyric is woken from his tormented sleep by the touch of his mistress’s hand against his brow, just like the first time they met in those ruins three years past.

“Awaken, my knight, I have finally gathered the necessary strength to attempt my ritual of rebirth into this world."

"You have done well to gather so much power in such a short time and I will reward you suitably for it very soon.”
Cyric forces his eyes open, wild and bloodshot they look through the face of his master at some distant half remembered dream of peace.

Cyric does not answer her, but that is to be expected, his last act of defiance allowed a mother and her child precious seconds to escape.

This had earned ire of The Lady, and she had quietly bade him to tear out his own throat and forbade him to regenerate until he had proven his loyalty once more.

The lady continues to stroke his cheek as she muses to herself “…this bond, it should suffice to allow the ritual to proceed, after all, my dear knight has not once forgotten her after all this time.”

She smiles at him as he stares without recognition at her, it is so much easier for him to simply not exist most of the time

than to force his ego to awaken to the nightmare that has become his reality, it is not even clear whether or not he hears what she says.
With a gentle touch, The Lady compels him to rise and continue his march, this time toward his former home…

Meanwhile at castle Teegee, Yonnah finishes her work in the kitchens, Vincent she finds is a hard boss but she loves her work and

wholeheartedly believes that what she does is vital to sustaining the efforts of the harem knights, even after her husband the Knight Cyric disappeared in those distant frozen ruins so

many years ago she stills wishes to support what the land of Teegee stands for, equality, prosperity, and free love.

She still remembers the days when her high elf father would come home from hunting to drink and would savagely turn on anyone nearby.

Yonnah is sure that the only reason she was never killed in one of his many drunken rages was because her mother would always silently

take the savage blows without a word of complaint. Yonnah was just entering adulthood and prospects of being sent to marry a complete stranger in another tribe were being

negotiated between her father and her potential suitor when the knights of Teegee stormed the village, she was afraid at first thinking they

would rape and kill her, but when the large man with her father’s blood on his sword had silently extended his hand to her with no sign of hostility

she had hesitantly reached out to him, and that was her first meeting with Cyric the knight.
After his disappearance she had been desperate to find him and when the lone survivor of that ill-fated expedition returned home far later than he

should have he would not meet her gaze nor answer her tearful questions. With a weary sigh Yonnah hangs up her apron as she halfheartedly

listens to other workers gossiping. “They’re still hunting it… How many did it kill this time… The whole town? Just gone?! It’s been nearly three years and the Mirthterran army still hasn’t killed it?....

They say it only looks like a man, that when cornered the thing becomes absolutely monstrous…”

Reflecting on what she hears Yonna ponders the troubling news, The Beast has been a plague in the Mirthterran countryside for about two and a half years now,

yet the Mirthterran government has refused any and all offers of Teegee help in hunting the monster declaring it a Mirthterran issue that the harem knights have no business interfering in.
Tales of the horror have seeped into Teegee only in the past year or so, many suspect that the Mirthterran nobility of trying to conceal the

nature and scale of the issue so as to not frighten trade away, but the killings quickly escalated beyond what could be concealed,

merchants would arrive to find whole villages and hamlets devoid of their people, traveling caravans would be found abandoned in route to their destinations,

sometimes however, they would find evidence of the massacre and that was always far far worse. Bones picked clean of their substance would be

found piled in insane and arbitrary patterns, sometimes limbs would simply be strewn about missing their bodies.

One of the oddest and most disturbing incidents was on the 14th of Sun’s Dusk this past year, when a guard patrolling the main road came

across a small town where the inhabitants had been propped in the town square seated haphazardly in chairs or else erratically nailed to

buildings and trees to simulate standing, mugs full of putrid blood were in the hands of many and on the long table in the center were platters piled high with hearts and ribcages,

many of the structures where decked out in streamers made out of the villagers intestines.

If you didn't, I would have.

Although the guard was harshly warned against speaking about the incident, the bloody feast as it came to be known,

it’s infamy was too great to be contained and soon traveling merchants brought word of The Beast and his depredations to every tavern in the land.

The Mirthterran army had been scrambling to catch the thing for some time, but it seemed to be possessed of an uncanny ability to avoid

confrontations, with much controversy the Mirthterran nobility paid a seer to attempt to scry the creature’s location, but upon his

attempt the elderly mage immediately broke out into convulsions as blood poured out of his every orifice and after word of his death got out no

more mages would agree to attempt to track the creature. With a slight shudder Yonnah hopes that the thing is killed soon before any more innocents fall to its ravenous appetites…

Weeks later there is a disturbance with the Teegee nightwatch, one man goes missing and his partner claims that when he went to take a

leak he simply never came back, the man is punished for negligence and life goes on… The next night Yonnah awakens to a light rap on her window.

Looking out she nearly screams as she recognizes the face of Cyric, muffling her cry she opens the window and they simply stair at each other for a moment, hesitantly he extends his hand to her much the same as he did so many years ago,

and once again she reaches back. The last thing Yonnah remembers is how strange his eyes seem, and how tired she suddenly feels.
Alright, break time /tg/ if any of you are bothering to read this, then I have a question, Do you want Cyric to be happy? Just yes or no will do.
Entry 1, Early 1 A.A.
I am different from the rest of the Outrealmers as you might call them. Though many know of our collective forced displacement, few know what it is that tied us all together. I was but a mere visitor to TeeGee back in the Old World but I visited enough that it could have been my second home, a retreat from Ay so to speak. Despite my poor conditions in my home country, the winter that culled a full two thirds of our initial number introduced me to hunger that surpassed even what I had experienced. I was desperate, praying to even fictitious Gods (though arguably all Gods are fictitious but let's not get in to that). When the Felim found us it was as if the Goddess of Hope herself descended and blessed me with a chance to make myself anew. Thus even when we marched for war, I felt little fear, proud to have to fight for my own and our continued survival.
don't we already have a vampire living in teegee?
With the shedding of blood, I satisfied my quota of killing for what I argued could be my entire life time. I put down whatever weapon I wielded and saw the rise of the Harem Knights of TeeGee. However I knew it was not my calling, my waifu was with me in Her Heaven, watching me, and I knew that I was never alone. A little known fact, the term waifu originated from where I came. In
any case, I styled myself an explorer with little intent to harm and definitely not out for riches and glory. This first entry in the journal shall mark when I first renamed myself after the only piece of identity I clung to in the hard winter months, that of a Thai and my chosen path, that of a Bhikkhu.
Entry 2, Late 1 A.A.
I had arrived in Mirthterrah, the human lands that were to the west. Now I may not have mentioned it but the reason for my journey was to learn of the religious customs of the land. I was sure there were cartographers, diplomats and other explorers intent on discovering the material wealth of the world the denizens of TeeGee now inhabit but I sought a discovery of the spiritual. I will send regular missives back to TeeGee however so that we do not commit heresies unknowingly should a diplomatic mission be sent out. It's hard to not spot the adventurers from TeeGee so I am never really in short supply of reliable messengers.
I'm curious Cyric, is English your primary language?
Entry 3, Late 1 A.A.
They seemed a monotheisthic, predominantly, their patron God being Myrthter, of which they name their kingdom after. Many parallels can be drawn from other monotheistic religions from the Old World. However, since magic exists as well in the land, I suspect that some of the armoured clergymen were actually Paladins similar to those in the Old Worlds' fantasy role-playing games. That or they were like Swiss Guard and I was not keen to find out.

I cannot compile a lengthy list of the formal hierachies of the Church of Myrthter but the clergy do not seem to have a central figure head for their church, instead adopting a more council-based approach. Then again I may be wrong but with the independence between the houses of worship makes this a reasonable assumption. They have managed to agree on a majority of the core tenets but there are still local variations which I could go in to exhaustive detail but for lack of space I will not.
I didn't know that, but I think that there deserves to be a distinction between a vampire living a restrained life in society and the thrall of a vampire lord that need copious amounts of blood to revive herself.
Yeah, is something odd about it?
Entry 4, 10th of Sun's Dusk 1 A.A.
The good denizens of TeeGee have now established a month system "gifted" from the Elder Scrolls, thank Her Benevolence for that. The anniversary of our summoning is near and though I am still in Mirtherrah, I will celebrate it, perhaps by actually using the money. I am a wanderer who lives on alms so perhaps I can afford myself little indulgence in the coming days. My next destination is the Kanin home islands. I have heard rumours of their spiritual beliefs, or lack thereof and wish to investigate a more interesting species.
Entry 5, Ear Day 1 A.A.
I suppose the date is auspicious as I arrived in the Snarletooth Isles, home of the Kanin people. Their ears resemble that of a dog, of various species too, after all and they had a tail to match. I suppose I should not be surprised the name of Castle Waifu has come this far. I can only speculate on to what mischief the gentlemen back home are up to. Speaking of which, I have spent my gold to enchant this journal so in the event of my death, it shall be forever preserved and magically transported back to the lands of TeeGee and thus inform them of my passing.

Regardless here, I find myself perplexed by the superstitions that persist in these lands though they do not recognise any official pantheon. Perhaps it is just mysticism or some kind of animism, I am not sure, my lack of knowledge in theology hampering me greatly without a vast encyclopedia to consult. They do have a significant focus on the Sun and the Moon (or moons) of the world. Kanins it turned out, didn't really think too hard about it and I suppose they didn't considering themselves more concerned with the practical day to day life. Their ritual wars remind me of a work of fiction from the Old World but the name eludes me presently.
Entry 6, New Year's Eve 1 A.A.
I am aboard a ferry to the Free Kingdoms in the far west. As I write this, the fabled Great Lighthouse may yet be in view but many of the sailors and passengers I have talked to, most were human, seemed to share their faith with that of Mirthterrah though the sailors seemed to also respect the sea. That I chalked up to superstitions that sailors are known for, even in the Old World. I have also met a Knight Errant aboard the vessel and he has thus given me news that I hardly hear during my travels. Most rumours of TeeGee were not very pleasant, at least to most humans. The other races, save the Elves, usually speak positively or with confusion about my new homeland.
Your syntax is a bit wonky, and your punctuation could use a little work. It might not be as bad as I think it is, since your format is really screwy and is throwing me off some. That's it for any major problems I see. Everything else is simply style and flow, you need to work on transitions (again your format is really hurting you here I feel), you jump around a lot and some parts have flow problems. If you're not a regular writer then it's not really that bad, but there is definitely room for improvement. Keep at it, you at least seem to have a good idea behind your writing.
Entry 7, 10th Morning Star 2 A.A.
My current direction is over the Giant Hills and past the Dark Mountains in to the Serridian Caliphate. I have a hunch the Serridians also worship a single god and since there was a caravan in that direction, there always is, I might as well go now. I learned much of their culture before I even reached the Desert of 1000 Sands. In fact I'm sure I also picked up a few things about the Serridians that they themselves did not know. They remind me of Arab traders from the Old World, always haggling, and with a healthy respect in their Caliph, or Sultan as I am still unsure of their form of governance. The way a Serridian praises the Caliph/Sultan also seems to be a good indicator of personality or character inherent to the person in question.

I hear they also have a special form of religious practices but I will have to see that myself later. As the caravan passed what I surmised were desert-inhabiting giants, my Serridian hosts paid tribute, figuratively, to these Mountain of the Sands. Their worship seemed rather fervent and I hoped that my theory is not disproven. I'll ask for a report or information regarding different kinds of giants and whether they are worshipped by other races or peoples in my next missive to TeeGee.
Guess I'll just finish up then.

Yonnah is aware that she is moving in the brief instances her consciousness surfaces, it is always night and it gets colder and colder.

When she finally truly awakens she is hobbled at the foot of an intricate fountain in the vast expanse of some hall, turning her head she

sees Cyric standing next to her staring blankly off into space, his face is haggard and gaunt and his once coal black hair has streaks of white in it.

Yonna opens her mouth to speak to him when in the gloom she sees something, a vague shape beside Cyric and presently she becomes aware of a whispering.

As she becomes more and more frightened Yonna begs Cyric to explain what’s happening and where he’s been all this time,

but the shadows incessant whispering seems to drown out her words and Cyric does not seem to hear her.

When the shadow finally becomes silent Cyric slowly turns his vacant gaze upon Yonna and a after a moment a spark of recognition enters his dead gaze and a soft smile alights his face,

briefly making him appear once again as the man she loved all those years ago, at this sight a hope sprang up in her and Yonna smiled as Cyric reached out to caress her he speaks at last.
Entry 8, 11th Morning Star
Fortunately, my hosts have assured me that while they pay respect to the Mountains of the Sands, they do not believe them as a truly divine being from which they spring. I suspect that in an age long past, the Serridians and the desert giants have established an alliance and that the present worship is something born of it. My theory has yet to be disproven as my host regaled me of mass prayers held for a certain One True God they seemed to have a connection with.
The structuring is a bit odd and there were a few tense mix-ups. Actually rereading the tenses of words is jumbled in a few places. Also I believe you speak the queens english, though that is just a guess. You use a lot of comas even more than me, which can lead to things feeling a bit off
Entry 9, 20th Morning Star
I have been in Serrid, Jewel of the Sands, and already I feel the overall culture is invasive to oneself. I find myself speaking of the Caliph (technically he's a Sultan) with overly long and flowery epithets, may His Reign be filled with- Mother of Mercy there I go again. I wish I had an eraser or something similar, this is just embarrassing. Regardless I wish to discuss Serridian religious practices in this entry.

Amongst their various prayers to the One True God they worship, they also have priestesses. Priestesses who seemed to dance much like a concubine of the Caliph, may his beard be neatly trimmed and not strangulate his neck, but also seemingly in tune with the song and dance of the One True God. To make this mistake is to invite death as an unfortunate Myrthter tourist had found out to his peril. Are these priestesses really serving as a conduit to God or are they just addled by the incense that is prevalent throughout their houses of worship? I wish I could draw a parallel to the Oracle of Delphi and ancient Greek practices in the Old World though further investigation may be detrimental to my health.
Entry 10, 31th Morning Star
I am in the jungles and the climate feels just like my homeland from the Old World. The Felim make their home here, and this basin tucked away between mountains is truly home to a great variety of flora and fauna. Were I a biologist, I could live here for years and not even begin to describe how the ecological system here works. Fortunately I am not and though my knowledge of
geography is slight, I can tell that this is a basin where a lot of moisture gets trapped resulting in the many rivers and tributaries that partition this land.

Funnily enough the Felim have a polytheistic approach, dissimilar to the human races of the world, though more similar to my own personal beliefs. Their "Nine Divines" are aspects of a whole, and named after the rivers that run through their land. I cannot pronounce the actual names and any attempts and romanising it has ended in spectacular failure. My Felim is not so great. I also have a hunch that TeeGee with gift the names of the Nine Divines from the Old World over to this one.
Entry 11, 1st Sun's Dawn
Curse the language barrier all to oblivion! Any attempts at trying to get the Felim to explain their unique religious concepts have met with continued failure to find an English analogue. Yes, they have aspects like love, but it is not quite love, as it is a bit more nuanced, perhaps it is like a waifu, I am not sure but it is strongly related to courtship. It is like finding a word for the feeling of cold, dust-laden, water rushing past your feet that you happened to plunge in a river's rapids. Yes, that is one aspect, no I do not know what it is supposed to be either.

What I find must interesting is that these aspects do not actually have a God, or representation, it is simply just a concept. Perhaps the Felim have a more philosophical bent and these aspect merely serve as a guide on how Felims should morally conduct themselves. I have taken more notes than I can fit in these pages and I will be heading back to TeeGee to share and discuss my findings with other scholarly gentlemen.
File: 1347847122776.jpg-(488 KB, 800x1000, 82e65dd42a86ff17639762760(...).jpg)
488 KB
Alright, let me get this out of the way first.

I clicked a picture, got sucked here, crazy wizard, winter, elves, waifus, blah, blah, blah. Happy now? I fucking swear, every time I hear tales about the first winter I can’t help but hear CRALWING IN MY SKIN~! And I haven’t heard it since my iPod corroded out over the first rainy season.

Too soon? Okay, okay, maybe that’s a bit harsh. Point is most people’s stories are exactly the same, and I got over it.

Well, what do I do? I’m responsible for keeping track of the Knights TeeGee’s equipment. Most everything is provided for by Castle Waifu (it oughta be since they tax the knights most of their adventuring loot for upkeep) so what I do is weapon, armor, and equipment requisitions. Sometimes that involves me going to blacksmiths to work out the prices, sometime it involves me just handing over a sack of gold that we insist they don’t use to pay for 500 wenches or something.
But I also watch people. Since I’m behind a desk filling out paperwork most days, most of my exciting adventures and stories come from the people I meet, both knight and waifu. Come back when I'm not eating and I can show you what I mean.
Entry 12, 1st First Seed
I have just arrived home. My dispatches and research and theological theories having just been disseminated to all interested parties. I am ashamed that there actually are no "scholarfags". For shame TeeGee, for shame. Sir Fearghaile has expressed an interest in the diplomatic implications of my findings as well as he seems to be the only one who reads any of my letters. That or the Council of DMs just forwards my letters to him for the purpose of furthering diplomatic relations.

Regardless, I have been hearing much about a certain Engineer Fatwelder's interest in dwarves. I've had contact with halflings and gnomes and know them to give praise to the earth, though I am not sure if dwarves may share similar beliefs. This merits further investigation and I shall be heading shortly to the Dwarven ranges to test this theory. Until I set off once more, this will be the last entry for a while.

--Journal of Bhikkhu Thai, a Scholarfag
“Yonna finally, it’s almost over, it’s so close soon we will be together again, my mistress has promised me this.”

At his words Yonna looks at the appiration, now hovering over the fountain and worriedly asks what he means.

The shadow speaks, and Cyric turns to it and nods. Turning back to Yonna he smiles at her and then sinks his fangs into her throat almost gently.

Gasping at the sensation of having her throat piericed and her blood drank Yonna does not hear the Shaddow begin to chant words of

power nor notices when Cyric slashes his own wrist until he brings the wound to her gasping mouth and has her drink his blood…

Sometime later, Cyric wakes as though from a daze, his hunger remains, but it is nowhere near the ravenous levels that his mistress forced upon him in order to strengthen her through his feeding.

As he looks around he recognizes the fountain and the hall that he had fought in so many years past and wonders if the whole thing was not some strange nightmare brought on by excessive drink.
And of course I'm not only slow on responding, I make some serious screw ups. At Least I can blame the hour and lack of sleep.
Well there you have /tg/ents, my first attempt at writefaggotry, truly this setting has been an inspiration. Would love to hear from you all, but I must sleep so until then may you be with your waifus and that all is right with the world.
As he continues to look around Cyric alights his gaze upon a figure lying prone in the shadow of the fountain.

Moving forward to look he recognizes it as Yonnah and his heart races in his chest as he is overwhelmed by anxiety at her condition and relief that he is with her again. Moving toward her side he calls to wake her.

“In the deepest darkness I wait for the call of my love… Will it succeed or is this the afterlife at last? Must I spend another two centuries

meticulously gathering my strength and waiting for one who is worthy to be my champion? Call….my…name, CYRIC!”
File: 1347847496436.jpg-(212 KB, 1200x918, The Lady.jpg)
212 KB
>/tg/ wants Cyric to be happy ending

As Cyric shakes Yonnahs prone and lifeless form, tears of blood well in his eyes. "Why? After so much, after everthing that has happened why is this happening?"

He calls Yonnahs name, again and again, he calls and calls and fails to realize that at some point it is no longer Yonnah’s name that he calls….

Her eyes…flutter open and they are blood red in the gloom. Smiling, she reaches out and touches the blood flowing out of Cyric’s eyes

before bringing her fingers to her tongue and rejoicing at her first actual taste of blood in over two hundred years.

Caressing his face, she whispers to him “Cyric, my champion, my knight, my husband you have accomplished more than I could have dared to dream."

"Now as your promised reward you will spend eternity at my side, but I’m afraid we have caused rather too much a commotion in the southern realms to remain here in safety."

" We will retreat to the frozen wastes for some decades and wait until all has been forgotten in the realms of men once more.”

Cyric stares at her blankly for a moment before his face breaks out into a joyous expression and he holds her tight.

“Finally, finally we can be together…” The lady takes his hand and together they travel into the frozen north….

Don'tchu be watchin' me boy, nor me wee waifu!
I Sir GearHeart may very well make reference to you work some day in An Outlander's Guide to Indigenous Species.
Damn it jetlag, I forgot what I was responding to, which is this >>20751867
So any thoughts on my opening bit?
Incoming set of writefaggotry, 2 sets in 1 day, I know. Scary.
I enjoyed it, it gave me a better feel for the Mirthterrah nobility.
I loved this. Seriously it was great. I also find it hilarious that I'm the only one who ever reads this stuff. I'm not even doing it for "diplomatic" reasons most of the time, this shit genuinely interests me.

Well, not really the Mirthan religion. Reminds me too much of televangelism back in the Old Realm.

>captcha uiventsu Brahman
File: 1347848882027.jpg-(86 KB, 630x440, 1297377039206.jpg)
86 KB
I'll be sure to provide transcripts of my lectures and excerpts of my formal reports for your perusal at a later date when I have acquired pic related. Shouldn't take too long to build.
My journey exploring the Frozen Marsh has been…interesting. What was originally a study on the effects of magical resistance in humans instead turned into an odd tale with a mixed end. On the plus side, I have gathered enough data to formulate theory on magic resistance and humans. On the negative side I am now burdened with two odd fey creatures determined to experience life as my waifus.

Oh yes, and apparently I’ve had immortality crammed into my mortal frame. Not sure how to feel about that.
Yayifications? Also I knew it would only be a short time till Harbinger became immortal. My char still has a ways to go.
Fuck yes, your stories always make me smile.
Originally the experiment was to take place in the plains as it would allow me to observe the maximum number of people, how they were affected by magic, based on several theories of magic. The chief theory I believe in is the Old World Warhammer theory that magic energy used to fuel spells comes from another dimension, and since energy cannot be created or destroyed, but a vacuum must be maintained, therefore those humans who are resistant are merely the universe’s magic immune system, absorbing this foreign energy and dispelling it back to its origin.

Originally, I was supposed to bribe a bunch of people, ranging from the dregs of society to the upper classmen, everyone has a price, and lure them to the plains for a meeting for a ‘social experiment’. Payment would not be given and no survivors were expected.

Experiments would begin with each person, after being proven they were resistant, be hooked up to several mechanisms that would collect every conceivable piece of data from the person’s activity. Operations moved to the plain to reduce the number of prying eyes, and reduce costs of making peace enforcers ‘forget’.

That was the original plan. The Fey do not like plans.
Pretty good, I enjoyed. Sir Fearghaile isn't really that squeamish with non-diplomatic attachés screwing up, but I can chalk that up to that being the warped perspective of Count Elastor.

I eagerly await them. I've made some observations of my own, and my Felim is apparently much better than yours, Divines know I could use the council. Keep in touch as to your whereabouts in the event we cross paths.

(basically don't be afraid to cameo)
The winter grew harsher as the season progressed, the temperature dropped during the cloudless days far enough to freeze skin in mere minutes if left unexposed. Driving winds and icy snow blew across the walls, to those below, it provided shelter from much of the wind, but to those atop, they had to face the brunt of the tempest. It was hard days on duty during that time, snow quickly piling up on stationary bodies, and those ill equipped suffered from bone chilling winds, frostbite, or worse. I volunteered for full day shifts during this time, as I was one who was used to the cold from my previous life in the Old Realm, and even though it was tough going, I’m sure it would have been much worse for someone without the fortitude. One particular day, all I could see was gray. The visibility was nearly four feet at the best of times, so walking atop the walls was particularly dangerous if you weren’t careful. But I was patrolling the North Western part of the walls when I saw a figure hunched over and trudging on top of the snow covered walls. At the moment, it seemed as just a dark coloured blob in the fearsome storm, but as it got closer, I found the shape of a familiar woman trundling towards me. Walking up to me and raising her head I saw the face of my Waifu, one eye closed in attempts to help with the ends, she looked up and smiled at me, and having to yell over the storms I heard:

“I thought you might have been cold, so I brought some-“ her voice stopped and the small wooden mug dropped to the side of the wall, its contents freezing before they hit the ground.
File: 1347849517760.jpg-(87 KB, 995x428, bastard sword.jpg)
87 KB
Ah, Sir Alaric. When I first saw him, he was tall as a giant and skinny as an Ethiopian. Honestly, I'm not sure how he didn't die the first winter. Pretty sure he ate bark or something. He's filled out with some muscle since then, but has more or less no fat, like an otter. He let his brown hair grow shaggy, the bangs to the eyes and the back partway down his neck. But doesn't let himself grow more than stubble on his face, for some reason. I've seen us grow beards that would make dwarves envious, and he insists on looking like a girl. His face fits one too, the jaw's pretty feminine.
Not to mention, he's kinda meek. Takes shit in buckets, but rarely lets it get to him, unless you count the occasional grin. Of course, I've seen him pull out a bit of wit every once in a while, but he holds his tongue too much.
When he came for a weapon, he went through several different swords, eyeing them like a kid in a toystore, and eventually picking out a simple hand and a half. It suits him, a bit. He seems like a guy who's up for whatever, and the sword lets him do whatever he needs, be it chop, stab, or bash. He also uses a decently big shield. Just a big, triangular piece of metal on oak. Not a bad choice, since he only uses chainmail, with a few plates, on the shoulders, torso, and a few other places. He asked for the shield unpainted, saying he'd put something meaningful on it when he had reason to. Of course, he was also sledding with it last winter like a child.
He also chose his helmet, a sallet and bevor, simply because "It was the most Stylish."
Weird guy.
File: 1347849622266.jpg-(50 KB, 720x480, Sallet front view.jpg)
50 KB
Hope you enjoyed that Gary bit, I trust most other writers will follow up soon. Back to the tournament, then!

I was afraid, afraid for what had just happened; she stood there, with a stunned look on her face, staring over the ramparts of the wall. She didn’t blink, the scars on her face stretched as her eyes widened and she clenched her jaw. I tried to snap her out of it, and not until I physically picked her up and tore her eyes away from whatever she was looking at and took her into one of the many guard towers. Once inside, she took a moment to snap out of it, but it looked as if she had seen a ghost.

“Evette? Evette my love, what is the matter? What’s wrong?” I pleaded with her, trying to figure out what was the matter.
“I saw him… I saw him….” She stammered.

I was confused, totally confused as to what she was talking about, but I was concerned, so I found someone to take my place on duty, and carried her back to our home. I had no time to take off all my winter clothes, so I removed my breastplate, and continued to our bed regardless, and set her down. She was breathing heavily, and her eyes were darting around wildly as if she was afraid.

“What is the matter? Who did you see? Who did you see?” I spoke as calmingly as I could.
“I saw him…” she whispered.
“Who is he?” I questioned back.
“The Gray… I saw him…” she whispered, a terrified look on her face.

I knew whatever she saw gave her good reason to be afraid, for she is not afraid of very much in this realm. I was concerned about her safety, and the safety of the castles inhabitants. I quickly ran to my neighbors house, and got them to look after Evette as I ran to the castle’s quarters to call a meeting.
I realize that there were several errors in the experiment. I should not have placed the base so close to the Frozen Marshes. I should not have used devices that produce so much energy run off that the fey would be attracted. I should not have accepted their offer to provide me with the information I needed.
Most importantly, I should not have bought my assistant. An odd fellow who seemed to support my views on advancing meta-science. He was always a bit odd. Even by my standards.

I am off track. The readings themselves attracted an odd, but obviously powerful creature. It identified itself as a traveler and scholar, always curious about the habits of mortals. Attracted to my experiments, it could not help but ask what I was hoping to accomplish. In my ignorance, I gave it the full detail of my plans, hoping that it if satisfied, it would relegate itself to a passive observer. The thing’s smile widened. Now that I think of it, I am not sure that thing that was smiling was the creature’s mouth. It asked me if it could help out. I refused, determined to keep the experiment as sterile as possible.

That was my mistake.
File: 1347850098399.png-(393 KB, 1142x1431, 1332112016335.png)
393 KB

I had never seen a stand fill with so many people so fast. I don't know how, but someone somehow convinced the women to play the Outrealmer game, and taught the rules with almost no one knowing.

The jaws dropped when they were convinced to wear swimsuits as well. Keep in mind, most of us hadn't had access to porn in five years.

Imagine my surprise when I saw Sera down there as well.

"Can't let you have all the fun, Al!" she called with a wave.

It goes without saying, Felim are absolutely. God damned. Adorable.
I did not realize I was refusing a request from the Son of the Winter Unseel (awful name in my personal opinion). If I do not want their help, I should have made a counter offer. Unfortunately I didn’t, and as such, the thing revealed itself to me as the powerful Fey that it was, offended at my refusal. What followed next, I’m not sure. Some blinding flash, screaming, hundreds of fey flitting about my vision, blood and limbs flying all over the place. Though, the man I was working on, some toady that was hoping to fund a coup against one of the jarls, was reduced to a gibbering wreck. I think he is still alive, chained in my lab to prevent him from trying to eat his own face.
When the dust settled, I was no longer, in the plains. For a while, I wasn’t even sure I was in any sort of materiel realm, as the place I was currently located did not seem to follow any established rule of science, and they were subject to change at a moment’s notice. One second, it is raining. Next, the rain flows upward. Next the rain stops in midair and gathers into an orb and explodes. At least I think it was rain. For all I know, that was Fey urine.
Gah, I was going to write something for you guys again today, but I developed a sever case of writer's block, so that's out.
Am kind of disappointed that more people don't include me in their stories though, I kinda thought I had developed someone others would like to write about.

I called a meeting with the remaining Knights that were not out on adventure and the off duty guardsmen. I asked if any of them knew what this “Gray” was, and most everyone shook their heads in confused and ignorance, while one person, an elf maiden that had been cleaning some tables overheard, and she pushed through the crowd with a hand raised.

“I know what he is, sir.” The maiden spoke quietly.
“You do? Well speak fair maiden. Let us know.” A Knight responded from the crowd.
“Yes, please tell us.” I added.
“Well, The Gray is a spirit. A spirit of someone, we know not who, someone who has roamed these lands far longer than we have, as it was told of my parents, and theirs. He goes into people’s homes and takes whatever he desires. Sometimes it’s just things, like trinkets and other various items…” she tapered off, looking to the ground in anxiousness. “Sometimes… its people.”

There was an audible gasp between the men and women standing there, taken aback by the statement.

“Back in our old village, my mother used to say how her sister was taken by The Gray, and she was never seen again. Other people have said they’ve had sisters and mothers taken as well. It seems that he only takes women, other than items. It is said that once you have seen him, and he looks back into your eyes, it is your turn…” she quietly finished.

Then, there was an outburst of yelling as the group began shouting and yelling at each other in fear and anger. They were yelling amongst one another as I took the elf girl to my side and asked her some questions in private.

“What does he look like? Can he be persuaded or… killed?”
“They say that he looks like a seasoned man, wearing a gray hood and furs and leather. Some say he was an archer for the human kingdoms of old, and was cursed, and I do not know of anyone ever talking to him, nor slaying him sir.” She answered.

I thanked her, and began to run home as fast I my feet would take me. Everywhere I ran I could see this man, My mind had gone into overdrive as every little snow wisp and snow bank was now the shape of this malicious spirit.
I think one of the reasons is that there are still chunks of your character they are not sure of and don't want to make him look off character.

Not in my case though, my character is antisocial.
And getting more conspicuously evil. Not exactly what the Knights Harem smile upon.
Eventually I was able to coax one of the myriad creatures towards me. It was a small pixie like creature, smaller than my hand. I asked of my location, and it told me I was in the Court of the Winter Unseel. Asking where my assistant was, it pointed in some general direction. I thanked the tiny creature. Then I grabbed it, broke its neck, and placed it carefully in one of my pouches. I was not about to pass up this opportunity to study such magical creatures now.

This did not sit well with some of the other local fey. A shame, but I resolved to keep them as intact as possible. Knowing I would be in no position to carry back all their carcasses, much less keep them preserved for the long journey back, I was forced to carry out my operation their on the spot. The Fey are indeed an odd lot. They all seem to be related in some way to each other, despite being so physically different. Many of the creatures had the same organism the same places; they were all suspended in a viscous fluid that was not like blood. It was thicker, and seemed to have…static in it? I am not sure, but simply by touching the fluids as they gushed out, I felt something akin to an electric jolt pass through me.

Attached is a close representation of what the pixie I collected looked like. Except mine was dead.
File: 1347851256557.jpg-(85 KB, 409x575, The pixie looked like this.jpg)
85 KB
The pixie in question.

I returned to find my front door open, and my heart sank. I bolted to the door, the small snowdrift beginning to pile up in the door sill. I ran inside to see my neighbor on the ground curled up with her eyes wide with fear, and a man in gray standing over Evette as she lay unconscious on our bed. It took every ounce of strength to not draw my blade and strike the man down, instead I walked up to him and upon coming closer, I could see the strange ethereal quality to him. He was neither solid nor hollow, but somewhere in between. He turned to me, a man that looked to be in his mid- forties.

“You come… to defeat me?” he spoke, a strange reverberation in the air echoed within the small house.
“If I have to.” I replied staunchly.
“Do you?” he questioned, waving a hand in a questioning motion.
“I don’t know what you are, but I know what you do, and I ask you to stop. Be at peace, you don’t need to take the ones we love away from us.” I stated.
“My love was taken from me, and I have sought her ever since. Why should I have mine taken away, and other get theirs to keep? He replied, a twinge of anger in his voice.
“I do not know what happened to you, but you don’t need to seek vengeance upon the innocent. We have done nothing to you sir, so let us be, let everyone be!” I shouted.
File: 1347852065384.jpg-(23 KB, 321x562, 1333144691412.jpg)
23 KB
The next two hours were, to say the least, thoroughly enjoyable. I can't say I recall which team won, but did it really matter? I do remember some ecstatic husbandos being pulled behind the stands, though.

Still, the fun couldn't last for long, and I was called over to the next event: fencing. This was my event, swords were what I live for! There was no way I'd last the rest of the way through jousting, but here I had a decent shot at winning. We were handed blunted replicas of our normal weapons, and set out to the first match. It was a circular arena, the stands were again filled with people eager to bash each other in. Money passed through hands, cheers and shouts left mouths.

I eyed my first opponent; he used a rapier. Sure enough, he'd be faster than I. I raised my sword to the air, and received a few cheers from the crowd.
"Let's rock."

Salute, stand your ground, and fight!
File: 1347852090123.jpg-(41 KB, 452x700, cat fey.jpg)
41 KB
My procedures were swift, experience in dealing with groups of panicking, struggling elves and dissecting them all before they expire giving me the speed I needed to complete my task. By the end, I can safely say that the Fey, while fundamentally different, may all simply be categorized in the same Kingdom, much like Protista, as they do not fit anywhere else. Not to mention there were so many half breeds and quarter breeds, that their genetic malleability is at a level beyond any other organism. Granted the Knights and their half breed children provide exception to that rule, but then we ourselves were outsiders. Perhaps we do not follow the same rules. Again, I am conjecturing and getting off course.

I had escaped the wrath of the angered Fey only to stumble upon…I’m not sure how to accurately describe it. The Son of the Unseel was there, in front of what I can only describe as a magic centrifuge. All the people I had collected were in there, or what was left of them, and were reduced to a slurry. The Son of the Unseel noticed me and bade me welcome. He was oddly happy to see me despite my previous handling of his subjects. Apparently he is also psychic, waving his hand and dismissing them as ‘not quite dead’, and that he would amend the situation. He introduced me instead to the ones manning the very bizarre device, two fey: both had feline features, much like the Felim, but they were undeniably Fey, their body structure too thin and elfin to be even a Felim-Elf mix (as if an Elf would stoop himself to such a level). One had bare skin, milk white with the name Aixys, and another skin jet black called Ayxis. The two were very familiar with me. It would be later that I would learn that the gap in my memory was a time I had spent…very out of character, frolicking, dancing with the Unseel Fey, and getting very intimate with Aixys and Ayxis.

He fully turned to face me, running a finger across my bed sheet as he did.

“You… care for this girl. Do you not?” he asked, the sound of dry winter air the accent to his speech.
“Yes. I do.” I responded, grabbing the grip of my blade, ready to pull it at a moment’s notice.
“And you do not fear… death?” he rasped.
“No.” I responded.

With that, he looked back at Evette, and then turned to me, wielding a small hunting knife. He stepped towards me, and into the light of my fireplace, revealing the skeletal features of his person. He held the knife up towards me, grip out.

“Then end my suffering fearless one. Many have tried to strike me down with mortal blade, but none have succeeded. I give you this chance, but know that it does not come without a price. If you strike me down, you must agree to take up arms as I have, and the one before me…” he grated.

“What… what must I do?” I stammered back.

“You must carry on our spirit, and defend the ones you love before all else. If you fail, then you shall become like I have, and wander the path of anger, loneliness and sorrow…” he whispered, moving ever closer to me, holding the knife by the blade.

He walked up to me, and for the final two steps he seemed to have a weight, and I could hear his boots creak against my floor. He presented the knife’s handle to me, which I took, and looked back at him. He titled his head slightly back and closed his eyes, and I plunged the ethereal looking knife into his heart. With a ghostly echo he dematerialized into white dust, and spiraled out the open door, mixing perfectly into the driving snow.
Darn it what you wrote is the same as what I am writting. Welp time to change what I am doing.
I dunno about my current story it feels very dark, even for Harbinger, what do you guys think?

I'll be honest I was writing this during a time when I was half asleep from Ambien, and when I'm like that, nothing I do makes sense.
>Agree to use the Gary thing last thread
>Be the only one who does it
>Feel extremely silly

I plan on doing that next, fear not.
File: 1347852764586.jpg-(98 KB, 700x731, Angry_Dreadnaught.jpg)
98 KB
I was doing immortality first, sort of
Well the difference being is that you become a corpse in a machine, and I'm...well i won't spoil it.

Well you DID just mercilessly kill a random and completely innocent fey pixie...
Yeah, it's a little... grotesque? I'd imagine that the Fey are a bunch of generally evil assholes, but this is getting a bit like the more gruesome entries in the SCP Foundation.

Of course, you didn't really exactly start out all that well with the whole "I'm gonna kill a few hundred people in a Nazi-ethics level experiment".
Least I have flamers
How's that any different from what I normally do?
do you have any examples for these gruesome SCP entries?

Stood there, holding the simple, let serious looking knife in my hand. I moved a stone on the fireplace, a secret compartment that only I knew of, and placed it there. I quickly ran into the kitchen and found myself stopping at the sight of my reflection in the sink. My once dark brown eyes had gone a steely sliver, and I felt different. I did not know what, all I did know, was that I felt the burning desire to protect, and to fight for the love of others. I stepped into my bedroom, where my neighbor looked at me with slight fear, and I tended to Evette, who looked at me with her own pair of silvery eyes, the smallest hint of blue showing through in those perfect orbs. She knew immediately what I had done, as she grabbed my coat, and pulled the neck down over my heart, revealing a shiny patch of skin, shaped as fist closing around a heart. She looked up at me and hugged me tightly, ferocity in her eyes. She stepped back, pulling the collar of her blouse down, revealing the same mark on her collarbone as well. My neighbor had nodded and departed at that point, and it was just Evette and I. It immediately became clear that she was not afraid of what had happened, and actually felt stronger towards me for it.

“We are intertwined now.” She spoke.
“Even more so than before. “ I replied.
“Why did you do that? You could have let me go.” She responded, her voice quivering.
“I did it because I love you, and no matter what, I will do everything in my power to keep it that way.” I finished.

She is not a woman to cry, but a few tears did stream down her face. After that, there had been rumors, no doubtedly started by my neighbor, about what had happened, and even a few people had taken to calling me “The Gray” in public. I always dispelled the rumors best I could, but I liked the nickname…
>completely innocent

pick one
File: 1347853148172.png-(212 KB, 351x514, The King doth be Verily p(...).png)
212 KB
I was explained that the device I was looking at was doing what would have taken me months to complete a mere few days. During that time, I had made myself acquainted with the two Cat-Fey. They were born alongside each other, Aixys practically radiating magic, and Ayxis absorbing it. No wonder during my magic induced drug trip I had become so close. They were living, breathing creatures supporting my theory. But then again they are Fey, and I cannot apply the rule of Fey to mortals. My assistant had disappeared at some point, though the Son said he was in the company of the King of the Unseel. Not wishing to waste more time, and to avoid those ‘come hither’ looks I was getting from the Fey twins, I left for what the Son said to be the King’s throne.

My assistant was gone, for lack of better word. He broke the next rule of dealing with the Unseel. Accepting their offer. The King had promised him knowledge of everything in exchange that he becomes King of the Unseel. Sounds like a very enticing offer yes. But what my assistant apparently forgot is that being King of the Unseel is a tedious, boring, and painful job, and that the Fey will gleefully pass that task on to someone else if it means they can go off and do the stuff Unseel Fey do. On top of that, try doing what the King of a whole group of Fey do while still mortal. The end result is unsettling. So the King laughs as he jumps off his throne of roots and thorns, the very branches coming to life and grasping the poor soul. I couldn’t allow that. He is my assistant after all. I have to fire him before letting something kill him. So I jumped in and with a deft sweep, cut the vines off. The King was not amused.
File: 1347853337295.jpg-(54 KB, 720x494, 1303538283089.jpg)
54 KB

And thats it for tonight gents. What did you all think of that little tidbit of a story?
I forget the exact numbers, but a few get kinda freaky. One implied vivisection of a human, and another was essentially that they constantly had to rape and traumatize a girl to prevent a world destroying monster from being born.
Lilith I think it was.
http://www.scp-wiki.net/scp-231 i remember the first time i read this. it was really really unsettling.
Holy balls. I go away, and when I return the old thread is nearly full AND there's this one.

Shit guys, this is going to take ages to catch up on. Can someone give me the Cliff's Notes on any major plot updates?
The crazy doctor guy is an immortal now.

Well, There was character development on my end, as well as some crazy spiritual, voodoo nonsense. All that is in this thread, fairly quick read.
I made sure funnelcakes were brought into this world.
Well, I need sleep now, but tomorrow I'll (probably) come to you with the story of an average day in the life of me
>Captcha: and Ickiev
Yes captcha, Ickiev will be there too
I got us a trade deal for some magic perma-cold ice and brought back polar bear-wolf-goats. i call them waste goats. farmers/ranchers love them and they can be trained as mounts (though getting them combat ready is a bitch)
Done with mine! Hopefully-not-too-wanky Sir Gary observation incoming. First one was just a framing device.
File: 1347855691207.jpg-(51 KB, 864x451, gladiator_mask.jpg)
51 KB
Oh look, you came back. Good, start filling this sheet out. Use this reference over here. Of course I’m using you to help me work, why else would have I invited you. Don’t give me that look.

Oh look, over there, yeah, that guy. No, THAT guy. Full, trim beard, average height, short muss of straight brown hair? Yeah, he’s built like a boxer, Irish I think. They say he got that scar on his cheek from the first battle against the Elves. Probably think he’s some sorta High Commander, right? Well, he is sorta. Tends to wear a simple cloak over it all when out and about, held together with his broach of office, which is often because he’s our main diplomat. Yup, that’s Lem Fearghaile. That style of Cuirass is popular among the Dragoons, our light infantry. Yes, that’s Myrthril. I know it’s blued to hell, but he insisted. The pauldrons are minimalist, said he doesn’t like them getting in the way, and you can see they’re striped yellow and black, the colors he took for himself. His helmet, oddly enough, doesn’t have any special markings, as it’s a popular way to show devotion to one’s waifu, but as a burgonet with a closeable facemask made to look like, well, a face, it was a unique choice.

Only other people you’ll see with his kinda kit are the Blades. I swear, he was a mall ninja back in the Old Realm. He requisitions equipment for every situation he might find himself in and then some. Walking down the street he just carries a short rapier and buckler for personal defense, but on his horse he has a sheath for a cavalry saber and a bastard sword, both of which he can use to great effect.
The Fey are an odd sort. Ungodly powerful, but they always have some weakness that reduces them to helpless wretches. In the case of the Unseel, it was virgin blood. Of course I had some available, me being…ME. Unfortunately it was on my assistant, who was too afraid to even move. So I spend an uncomfortable amount of time dodging the King, who by this point has grown several sizes as he encased himself in his throne, and shouting for the fat idiot to throw me the vial. I barely manage to grasp the item I desire from his coat pocket before one of the King’s appendages grasps my leg. With it still firmly in hand I wrestle with the cork even as I am pulled into the King’s maw. After swallowing me to my torso do I get the vial open. The blood was normally intended to be splashed on his outer extremities. Getting poured down his digestive tract was something that was never done before.

He exploded.
File: 1347855919605.jpg-(121 KB, 972x511, onedaysoon.jpg)
121 KB
Riding with the Dragoons, he always has a lance or two handy as well and always carries in the bastard sword with a steel plated shield with his heraldry on it (Half yellow and black vertical stripes, half black field with the D20 sigil over crossed olive branch and arrow). There’s some enchantments on the blade that I’m not sure of. He commissioned that sword on his own. I think it’s called “Peacebringer” or something. It’s your standard cross hilt hand&ahalf+ sword, but it has a loop in the hilt that Fearghaile can grip with his finger to control the point of the blade more easily. It really moves well in his hands and even against armored foes, but his true skill lies in his saber and sidesword.

Y’see, he was one of the first sword instructors, had some skill with blades before he got zapped here. Swordplay in our world has been refined to an art, and Fearghaile can really do it. His rapier’s more like a smallsword, but the hilt is much more elegant and the pommel curved in on itself. Don’t know if he has a name for it besides “Friend”. The saber is simple and rugged. He actually goes through too many of them for him to name. When I ask why, he’s buttons up. Sumth’n tells me he’s been showing off a bit.

Keeps asking me if R&D’s figured out primers yet. Didn’t even shut up about it when I handed him our first compound bow. Man, he really wants his proper cowboy action. He’s also handy with a bow and blunderbuss. Well, he’s pretty handy with just about everything, if I’m honest, but you know what they say about a Jack of all trades.

Thinkin' about becoming guard eh? Well, that means you'll have to talk to Sir Giovanni, Captain of the Home Guard.

What's he like? Well, I'll ya.

From what I gather, he is a man of simple pleasures and righteous intent. You can tell just by the look in his eye that he wants to protect us, and he does a damn fine job if I do say so. There is a reason he is the Captain lad, and there is also a reason no one has ever wanted the title. It's a double edged blade you know, being in command is nice and all I'm sure, but you are also burdened with having peoples lives in your hands, son.

As for his arrival, like everyones, he was unsure at what had exactly happened, but he made a quick effort to rally around some of our comrades, and gave a direction to what we needed to do. He never wanted to be our leader or king, but merely make sure people set off in the right direction.

He is a husky fellow, 'round six feet tall. He became much leaner, as many of us did, but he retained his husky quality, always being a wide fellow. Always looks like he can handle the problems of the keep with'n those wide shoulders. Though, somethin's happened to him recently this winter, and I'm not one to believing unsupported rumors, but people been starting to call him "The Gray" after some old folktale that the natives had in this realm. But thats beside the point, don't believe things you can't prove son.
File: 1347856137501.jpg-(212 KB, 1500x1117, f7d02a493dcf25039f9e84faf(...).jpg)
212 KB
Now Kikki the Flash, she’s like the opposite to Mr. Carries Every Weapon He Can Requisition. Two Knives: a Kukri and a Stiletto, and arming sword. She doesn’t even name any of them, well, at least not that I’ve heard. Her armor is a basic cuirass, not unlike Lem’s, over a mail tunic and a standard close helm. It has the usual spaces to give some room for the delicate Felim ears, but is similarly unremarkable to Sir Fearghaile’s.

But she doesn’t s usually even wear that, instead opting for a padded leather jacket and shorts. It’s actually pretty standard TeeGee mercenary fare, she says it’s comfortable and lets her move around easily. Short cropped dark hair, blue eyes, and a lithe body that’s had a lot of guys’ attention back in the day. Most of them give up sooner than later though, soon as they see her follow Sir Fearghaile around like a lovesick puppy (which is funny because she’s a cat-girl). Don't let her cavalier attitude fool you, she's head-over-heels for the poor sod. Word is, she’s not his waifu YET (damned if she hasn’t tried), but there’s a running bet on when they’re finally gonna shack up. I hear the pool’s gotten pretty damned large too. My money's on the next couple weeks. Here's to hoping.

So done with that paperwork? Great, come back tomorrow. The Blades are due for their next requisition and I need the pens. Don’t look at me like that, I’ll tell you another story tomorrow.
As for his equipment, he usually wears a hood with w Graywing feather in it, a Bbeastplate, leather boots and gloves, and whatever the season dictates underneath. He uses a longsword that he adopted a while ago, not too sure who's it was, but I've sharpened it for him a few times. He also uses a longbow that he made himself, and carries two quivers behind him on his belt. The man's got a mighty great shot with that bow, and he stockpiles that many arrows because he can shoot all day and still have stamina left o'er to fight. I remember seeing him during the invasion with the orks... it was an inspiring sight to say the least!

Eh? The scarf? I don't know much about it lad, all I know is that he doesn't go nowheres without it, I think that his scarred up elf girl made it for him.

Now go on, I've got paperwork to do if you don't mind.
The effect was almost instantaneous. The power of the Unseel Fey, unleashed, sought to work the near endless fount of energy into something. I was the closest thing to work it on. It entered me and I felt the thing tearing me apart. I refused to let it happen and fought back. Perhaps I am lucky, or a chosen on; or perhaps this is quantum physics in action. Whatever the reason, the energy stopped resisting me, and it began to form itself into something ordered. Something I could contain. In that moment I had absorbed the power of the most powerful Fey in this plane of existence. Despite all logic and reason explaining how it should not be possible, me, a mere mortal has become the King of the Unseel.

The Fey reacted almost instantly. A gathering had occurred and countless creatures, Unseel and Seel alike had amassed themselves around me, gaped with a mixture of expressions. Shock, awe, outrage, confusion, dumbstruck, some had no face so I could not tell…but there were two neutral faces, they were the Son of the last Unseel King, and the Queen of the Seel Fey.
“Mortal Harbinger.”, began the Queen. “With the death of-“ god(s) I cannot pronounce that long, damn name so I won’t bother. “-the power of the Unseel has waned. But without the Unseel, the Seel cannot Be. Mortal Harbinger, as the one who now possesses the power of the Unseel, you must now take your rightful place and rule with me –“ dear GODS that name is even harder to spell. “and return us to a state of Be.”

The Son spoke up next, his expression totally passive. “Well, you are now my father. And as such, it is now expected of you to take his mantle. To be the Unseel. Will you abandon your past, for this glorious immortality?” The Fey love their protocol. They expect me to accept, and take my place, and go through more pomp and circumstance. My reply was swift.

That seemed to put them off. The Queen hiccupped and giggled lightly. “I’m sorry lord –“ That damnable name “did you just say-“

“My name is Harbinger. My real name is of no concern. I will not be some King to some realm of impossible existence, and I sure as hell will not participate in magic political flamewars. You want some guy to be the next Trollface guy, find someone else, I’m leaving.”

“But you can’t! It is your duty! The Balance is gone. We can never Be!” the Son yelled.

“I don’t care; it doesn’t interfere with my work.” And I turned to leave. One of the benefits of being King of the Unseel realm is that I can turn in any direction and it will be the exit. I stopped and turned back to my assistant. “Oh and Carlile?”

“Y-yes lord Harbinger? Lord? King? Sir?” the man cringed.

“You’re fired.”

With that I made my way back to the plains. Judging by my watch, my time in the Fey Realm had taken all of two days in the material plane. As I set to make the long trek back to Castle Waifu, I heard two voices behind me. It was the Cat-Fey. They prostrated themselves before me, begging me to take them along. I asked why, and they explain that during my time in their arms as a mortal, I would regale them with tales of castle waifu, and the knights doting upon their harems. Such a life was something they wanted to experience, and who better to give it to them, than the one who informed them of such an interesting life in the first place. I initially refused, but they offered me all the data that I had originally intended to collect from this expedition as a bargaining chip. Reluctantly, I accepted.
So what did people think about my whole thing in this thread... Was it too much? Was it enjoyable? Was it awful?
With that I made my way back to the plains. Judging by my watch, my time in the Fey Realm had taken all of two days in the material plane. As I set to make the long trek back to Castle Waifu, I heard two voices behind me. It was the Cat-Fey. They prostrated themselves before me, begging me to take them along. I asked why, and they explain that during my time in their arms as a mortal, I would regale them with tales of castle waifu, and the knights doting upon their harems. Such a life was something they wanted to experience, and who better to give it to them, than the one who informed them of such an interesting life in the first place. I initially refused, but they offered me all the data that I had originally intended to collect from this expedition as a bargaining chip. Reluctantly, I accepted.

So now I am a Fey-King-immortal-human…thing. I returned to the castle to being making sense of all the collected data. I got more than the usual odd looks from the people of the castle. Sir Fearghaile, Sir Artorias, Sir Dustyn, even Sir Gearheart who normally would just give me a polite nod simple stared at me. Nothing outward was different about me, but I gave off an aura of ‘wrongness’ that put many of my peers off. Even those that respect me kept some distance from me.
The Cat Fey on the other hand were nothing of the sort. As I had retired to my lab, Ayxis and Aixys were ecstatic, running about the entire castle, introducing themselves to every individual they saw and proudly proclaiming they were my waifus. I received many complaints that day, mostly from knights who were in the middle of some ‘intimate relations’ with their waifus only to interrupted by two monochromatic cats declaring themselves to everyone. It will pass. Helbrey is worried about me, sensing something is off. I alleviate her worry. The twins are still too young to understand, and they still smile and gibber at me in their baby language. It was…nice to see them.

Now that I am immortal what will I do? I do not know. Perhaps I will stay with TeeGee for a while longer, it is my home after all, and the home of my friends. But after they are gone, what then? I do not know. I cannot say I know the new recruits very well. Given my new magic power, I doubt I can teach what I know to anyone. I’m as liable to cast a fireball as I am to level half the castle. That is something for me to brood on.

End of Experiment.
Conclusion: It’s magic, I can’t explain this shit.

…oh my, I think the Fey’s humor is rubbing off on me.
So there. How does my writing-when-under-the-influence-of-sleeping-pills compare to my normal writing?
It's a little melodramatic. Tone it down a bit, I'd say, I mean, you're turning his story awfully grim. Inject a little noblebright!

I'm not going to lie, it was kind of fucked up. But to be fair, the disturbing nature fits the fey remarkably well. Don't mind me as I steal a few things here or there for my game.

Also, Fearghaile is going to notice the feel of the Frozen Marshes, having been by the border a few times.
I thought it was kinda neat.
Wasn't bad, kinda hard to keep track of so many characters and story lines and timelines all at once, but i'm sure that's just a personal problem.
On a side note I need to rewrite a fair bit of my story once I caught up on the threads and saw you had stolen brown elf out from under me. Wanted a waifu noone else had yet.

Though seeing some of the Gary stuff is making me chuckle. I spawned him as a device so folks could show off some of their character sheets as someone put it when I frontloaded that stuff into my intro chapter. GOt made to feel mary sue-ish and then some peoples kits make mine look downright quaint. I'm sure it's just the late hour but it makes me feel a teeny bit butthurt if i'm being completely honest.
what game?

I told you guys, Its tough for me. But I will try and make the effort. I think I've established all I need to about my characters, so I'll see what I can do. Mind you, its tough being a guard because... well you guard stuff.


Thanks, I tried going for something I don't normally go near.


Sorry friend, but the brown elf waifu is the only one for me!
File: 1347858734935.jpg-(132 KB, 503x497, 1340153065128.jpg)
132 KB
>Strike Witch as a waifu
I know it's a bit late to ask but is there some sort of established canon for the Fey? And did I just shit all over it?
My IRL friends asked me to run a Pathfinder game, so that's what I'm doing.

Nope, just that they're in those Frozen Marshes and that they created the Kanin, not that any of them will tell you that.
File: 1347859068460.jpg-(10 KB, 124x432, 1331948415457.jpg)
10 KB
The opponent was aggressive. Thrusted everywhere, nicked my legs a bit, but the shield blocked most blows. He relied on dodging, making it hard to his my slower swings.
So, I applied more shield.
Charging forward, I attempted to overwhelm him, shoving my shield in his face.You can't thrust from that close, but it was great for a pommel strike. And another. It may have concussed him a little bit, but I had disarmed him, giddy like a drunkard from the crowd's cheers.

Tournament fighting was much more glorious than a battlefield!

Blinded by the cheers, I took a few steps, turning to face the crowd. Sword raised towards the sky, I briefly wondered why we never had sword tournaments in the Old Realm.
Honestly, I think my story was kind of cool? I guess. I mean, I could have made it like, a million times longer, but I didn't want to make it THAT long. It may feel kind of rushed, but I wanted to cut it off. That and I always loved that nickname... "The Gray"
Just don't go too far into grimdark territory. I fill enough of that for the whole setting.
File: 1347859422999.png-(732 KB, 591x806, A.png)
732 KB
Sir GearHearts a odd fish even by TeeGee standard, not as odd as Harbinger mind you. He found his own kit out on adventure. A real evil looking bastard sword, with a red blade and a solid black hilt. Wears a odd bit of armor, looks like its made from bits and pieces of High Orc plate and and Elvish chain and plate. Sounds like scrap don't it. Ain't so, custom fitted and well made. Not that you can really tell. Fellow likes to wear a big top hat and trench coat over it all the time. Also covers his face with a bandana. Almost never with out his messenger bag. Calls it his bag of tricks. That's what he comes to me for. Flash bombs, Napalm, Smoke grenades, throwing knives, bag of glass, countless other little things. Also carries some stuff in those jacket pockets. One time his jacket came up, told me it was a project from back home. He and his brother had built it to be bullet proof and knife proof. Told me he never even considered arrows. Those goggles he wears aren't for show neither. The most interesting thing about his gear though is the left gauntlet. Doesn't match the rest of his armor. Says that he built it for battle castors, still working out the kinks. Has a crystal in the palm, to better channel magic apparently.
>Stupid duplicate file made this take for ever
Our loadouts aren't that over the top. I stuck to only my hand and a half and shield, Giovanni's got his bow and not much else to note.
I think the only thing that comes close is Fearghaile using a bunch of different swords for the occasion, but he gave himself a logical reason to do so.
i kinda like how over the top some of the gear is.it seems that with Dustyn and Gearheart, it seems reasonable to be bad ass and ridiculous both respectively.
File: 1347859783167.jpg-(450 KB, 870x1000, 1346981873205.jpg)
450 KB
Then theres GearHearts cute little cowgirl friend that he brought over not that long ago. Big strong girl. Wears real heavy armor like its nothing. Simple load out for her, Tower Shield and Short sword. Caries a big axe on her back.

Them's some tits if I ever saw some. GearHeart you crazy.
File: 1347859996753.jpg-(73 KB, 600x750, 1273206019689.jpg)
73 KB
Ever watch a slice of life show? Those can be very relaxing and give you a great "feel good" outlook. Most of my stuff is somewhere in between grimdark and noblebright and kind of plays off of the ridiculousities of real life to create an amusing middle ground. Take the Diplomancing the Stone. It started out with the oppressive reality of a hopeless war and ended with a grown man throwing a temper-tantrum.

Just don't force it. It kinda feels like "The Gray" and that Sir Gary piece were over-glorifying. There's something of a simplicity and beauty to being the guard, don't be afraid of using it. Focus instead on character interaction and development, day in the life type stuff. Real Life is more interesting than fiction and all that.

Hey, I was the one that suggested Sir Gary! D:

Also, I never had a problem with your kit, it was just the way it was presented in the narrative was awkward, and as you put it, frontloaded. My suggestion was to shorten and spread out the descriptions. Sword and spear are a fine combination, no matter how weeaboo. I mean hey, as long as it works as well as any other piece of equipment, who could blame you?

Alright. Will do. I'll try my best, I just don't hope that it comes off too boring.

As for the Sir Gary stuff, I didn't want it to be overly glorifying, I just was thinking of having a third person perspective on it.

Ahh god dammit. Now I feel shitty about writing that stuff.
What can I say I like em big and those cowgirls know how to grow them.
GearHeart is a boyscout at heart, he likes to be prepared. The coat I have in real life. Also pocket glass is my favorite cheap trick.
Felran clenched his blade worriedly. Finally, the party had reached the ruins and he was nervous. Nobody visited ruins because they were obviously dangerous, but these outrealmers seemed completely unfazed by it all. They were even making jokes!

“Ancient, presumably trap-filled ruins? Seems legit.”

“You woke me up for this?”

“You can’t stay in that hammock of yours and stroke elf ears ALL day, Gavran.”

“You really wanna challenge me on that?”

“Hey man, at least you’re usually awake in the day.”

“Quit complaining. Haven’t each and every one of you dreamed of doing exactly this at some point in your lives?”

“I don’t remember that dream ever involving being abducted by batgirls, you know.”

“…well why not?”

Truly, these outrealmers seemed to have no concept of danger, but then again, that was exactly why he had joined the guild they had formed. Felran thought himself doomed to the mundane life of a farmer, that he would live out his dull life in obscurity, never truly setting foot outside of the small village he was born in. But then the outrealmers showed up with their “Adventurer’s Guild” and had promised a life of adventure and splendor for all who had the courage to join them and fight. He took the first caravan to their guildhall fortress the moment he had gotten the chance. Sure, the amount of demihumans they seemed to have a penchant for collecting had definitely taken him off guard, but he pushed those thoughts out of his mind. He didn’t really care what lords and kings had decreed about them, these outrealmers had promised him a chance to escape his old life and if that meant associating with demihumans, then so be it! And he had to admit, the burgeoning town they had built themselves around their guildhall was rather impressive, considering who founded it.
Of course, the moment Felran had proven himself competent with a blade, they had sent him out on his first quest. They were to ransack the nearby ruins for all the loot they could carry and in particular a certain relic whose function was unknown to him. Joining him in this endeavor was a large axe wielding bear of a man, a female minotaur as big and burly as the former(he remembered these creatures had a name, but he could not for the life of him remember it), a man accompanied by his two kiirep attendants (Felran had never even seen one before, much less two!), yet another that looked about as eager as Felran felt nervous, and even the legendary Sir Gavran himself! While the opinions on the Town of Teegee were mixed at best, few had anything but respectful words for the man who so easily pacified so many elf tribes, even if that respect was begrudged.

And after two days’ march, there they were, standing outside of the ruins Felran’s village scarcely dared even speak of, with the full intent of looting the place. He tried to clear his head of doubts. If these outrealmers, elves, and demihumans could do this for a living, then surely a sane, homegrown human could too! Then again, perhaps the insanity that causes one to not only trust a demihuman with their life but to go as far as unabashedly attempt to bed one was just the type of crazy one needed to be to live this life. On the other hand, he had sought these people out of his own accord, so he wasn’t exactly the sanest person himself…

“C’mon, newbie, you’re gonna miss out on all the fun!”

Felran snapped out of his thoughts at that and followed the man in. After all, it couldn’t be too dangerous if that knight could afford to give a kiirep a piggy back ride during their “dungeon crawl” as they called it, the nasty looking crossbow she was wielding notwithstanding…
…Felran cursed his luck. Of all the foes he was to face, it had to be skeletons! While thankful he had didn’t have to face the potential moral dilemma of killing another person, it meant his blade was next to useless. He had resorted to using it mainly to parry their own attacks whilst using his shield to bludgeon them apart. Thankfully, between Sir Kotunn’s mace, Bearington’s greataxe and his minotauress companion’s warhammer, their bony opponents did not last long, though the incomprehensible jokes from the outrealmers had yet to cease.

“Oh man, these ruins are three spooky five me.”

“At least they aren’t skelecopters, dude.”

“Oh man, we’d be boned if they were skelecopters.”

“Heh, boned.”

Felran sighed, and yet he still found a smile on his face. He was here, adventuring! These ruins had been this close to his village for as long as he had been alive, and yet not once did he ever dream of entering them. And now he was slaying their ancient defenders, dodging their traps, and having himself a proper adventure like in a proper bard’s tale! No matter what, there was no way things could go wrong…
…Things had gone wrong. Terribly so. Kotunn had wandered away from the group during their rest and accidentally activated some sort of trap, causing an immense stone door to roll into place, cutting him off from the group. Despite the minotauress’s best attempts at “lockpicking” with her hammer, the door refused to budge. The entire party had grown grimly silent since then. Gone were the jokes, the banter, the warm smiles on their faces. In an instant the entire atmosphere had changed. The two kiireps Kotunn traveled with bore the worst of it, forging ahead of the party to check for more traps, occasionally screeching down tunnels, no doubt in an attempt to gain their bearings in the labyrinth of corridors surrounding them. The one with a helmet especially scared him. More than a few times they found the two surrounded by skeletons that had been pulverized to dust, her still smashing the largest section of bone with her javelin. He feared the worst when their band had run into their first real foe, a fearsome arachne that towered menacingly over even the minotaur. Even with the kiireps out for blood, Felran worried they would be no match for such a formidable adversary. At least, until they all heard a familiar voice.

“Hold up, Namax! These are the guys I told you about! They’re with me!”

“Fool! You think yourself so familiar with me that you can call me by anything but my full name?!”

“Seeing as you lashed me to your butt, I’d say we’re pretty familiar with each other.”

“Would you rather I allow your leg to suffer any more injury?”

“Naw, I’m down with the spiderbutt, I’m just saying.”

“You are rather impudent, human.”

“What can I say, it’s gotten me this far in life.”
Felran could only stand there and gape in utter bewilderment. In but a moment, the old glow the party once held had returned as the knights began laughing and joking with each other and introducing themselves to the newest arrival as the kiireps swarmed over Kotunn perched on the abdomen of the arachne, admonishing him and adorning him with hugs and kisses all at the same time, taking care not to disturb the brace made of spider’s silk and wood wrapped around his leg. Felran took small solace in the fact that the arachne was as confused by this turn of events and the outrealmers’ instant acceptance of her as he was…

“Dosh! Grab it while you can, lads!”

Felram was growing used to the outrealmer babble. He doubted he would ever be as utterly enthralled with it as that kiirep seemed to be, but it was growing on him nonetheless. With the help of their new traveling companion, they reached the inner sanctum of the ruins and found it filled with treasure. As the others filled their packs with as much as they could carry, the knight whose name Felran never caught ignored all else in favor for the small glowing stone that sat atop a pedestal at the center of the chamber.

“Aha! This is it!”

“That’s what you dragged us all the way out here for?” Kotunn inquired, hobbling about with the help of the kiireps who now refused to leave his side.

“Oh like you have room to complain, spiderboy.”

“Oh trust me, dude, I’m not complaining, I’m just wondering what the hell that thing is.”

“This, my friends, is a gatestone.”

“A gatestone?!” Felran interrupted, speaking for the first time.

“It speaks! So he isn’t mute after all!” The minotauress laughed heartily. He ignored her and continued his protest.
Don't, not for a minute. You wrote it and then posted it for anonymous internet assholes to read and critique. That's got some balls right there. instead, improve. You certainly can, in fact, when you were doing the slice of life type stuff, I enjoyed it thoroughly. Keep at it, you can only improve.
“The only reason you would need a gatestone is if you were looking to-”

“Open a gateway to the Outer Planes, yes.” the nameless knight confirmed.

“But why would anyone do such a foolish thing?! Are you seeking some way to return to your home realm?”

“Go home? Gooby plees, I love it here.”

“Gooby? Nevermind that, then why would you seek to do something as foolish as open a gateway to the Outer Planes? That’s where demons and celestials live!”



“Some of us have a thing for them horns and red skin, man…” the knight said, looking down at the ground slightly abashed and pushing his two index fingers together nervously.

“So…you brought us all the way out here and ricked all of our lives…just so you could have yourself a chat with a demoness?! One that will probably devour your soul at that?!”

“Yes, and?” was the only response Felran got.

“I…I don’t know what to think anymore.”

“Aw, buck up newbie, this is the whole reason we’re here. Going on crazy quests for the most asinine of reasons.” Sir Gavran attempted to placate him. “Remind me to tell you the whole reason I ended up forming that treaty with the jungle elves when we get back to Fort Waifu.”

Felran shook his head and laughed at the absurdity of it all. These outrealmers were insane, foolhardy, and seemed to be unable to tell the difference between a human and a demihuman or perhaps simply didn’t care, but they knew how to have a good time. He grabbed some treasure and hoisted in a toast of sorts.

“Grab it while you can, right?”

Alright. I just dont want to write the same story a bunch of times. It's nothing special guarding a castle that no one is attacking/trying to get into/etc.

Perhaps I will write about the festival.
>get caught up with the last thread
>Tanash story
>sad end
Well, wasn't expecting that. Here, have a relevant song.
There you are. Didn't hear back from you in the last thread. Got a time frame on that visit? Need to know when it was so I know what to work around.
File: 1347860954946.jpg-(193 KB, 600x846, 1343561243785.jpg)
193 KB
Then there's GearHearts other friend. When she does wear armor, which is a rare day, she wears a light padded leather jacket. She actually stops by the most, always needing more arrows. Kept wondering why till I found out that she sets them on fire. Acording to GearHeart she carries a dagger hidden under her skirt. Cording to him she uses her tail to wield it.
Well at this point, I'm not sure if I can write anymore. I don't know if there is anything to top that. I mean Harbinger is now Oberon basically, he's back to brooding, and there isn't much left for him to explore, or even that much reason to explore it.

I dunno, should i just leave him with that?
Sorry bout that, Sir GearHeart brought in the girls around mid second year. About Midyear 15 2 A.A from my notes.
Well, what if his immortality is giving him some side-effects? Sounds like a quest to "cure" this Fey affliction.
>trying from Lillys prospective
I Lilly, have decided to take up a journal in the hope that it will help me to understand James's fascination with chronicling everything as he puts it.
Two days after the party with the Holstauri we left from Castle Waifu for the far north, I wasn't sure why I had told Meina the north, I know James had been wanting to explore more of the Free Kingdoms, but that’s not real adventuring, I wanted to make sure that Meina would not be bored. She and James had picked out a heavy set of plate armor and a short sword and a tower shield. James has since started calling her MilkTank, frankly I don't get the joke.

Its always odd going to Castle Waifu, the sheer diversity of the people their and the friendly atmosphere make it an amazing place. Even a succubus such as I, is welcomed with open arms. I wish I could convince James to move back to the castle or the surrounding area, but he likes his peace and quiet, and I have to admit its nice to be out in the sticks some times. I almost forgot I became an Official Harem Knight, the first succubus to do so, actually I think I am the only Succubus that is not in service to the Demon Lord.

Especially as I'm still worried about them coming for us, I need to tell James but I don't want to worry him, they might never find us, after all they never did find Outcast.
Its been nice having another girl around to talk to. Such as when we were travailing today and Meina asked if we could take a break.
“Hey guys can we stop for a moment.”
“Sure, right up at that clearing we'll take a rest.”
“I don't think the female body was made to ride horses.” I added.
“You'll get used to it.”
“Easy for you to say, my vagina has never been this sore in all my years of being a succubus.”
At this Meina blushed heavily.
“Wait your a succubus?”
“Yes I am sweety, I didn't tell you?”
“No and you don't look or act like one either.”
“Well I don't act like one as I am trying to change my ways and for the looking the part. Its just a little illusion magic and shapeshifting.” I said as I shifted everything but the wings, didn't want to ruin a perfectly good blouse.
“I like your horns, they are bigger than mine.”
“Yep you girls just about even out.”
“Wait do you mean?”
“Oh just that you both are similar but are slightly different in a way that equals you two out. Or in short your both a lot a like.”
“That's a nice thing to say James, but its not very logical.”
“In a logical world people would ride side saddle.”
“He has a point.”
“No he doesn’t, hes just deflecting like he always does.”
“Sorry Lady Lilly, I did not mean to deflect, I promise to reflect on my ways, so I can over come any further defect.”
I really regret telling Meina that James was my loyal Vassal, he has been playing it up these last couple days and its starting to get annoying. I think I'll have to tell Meina the truth soon. Somethings telling me that James is doing it for that very reason.
We arrived at the mountains today, James wants to met with the dwarfs and see if he can track down a friend of his who is supposed to be in the area. I came clean on the subject of my relation ship to James and told Meina the story of how he rescued me from Hell. She was even mad, said how she understood that sometimes people have things in their past that they don't like to talk about. Then she hugged me. I wish it didn't have to end, her breasts pressing up against mine. No bad Lilly, trying not to be a sex crazed succubus remember. Think normal thoughts. Anyway James hasn't been giving me a hard time to day. In fact he told me how proud he was that I told Meina the truth. It feels strange nobody had ever said anything to me like that. Lest no that I can remember. Some times I lay a sleep at night wondering what my life was like before.

James is in high spirits after talking to a dwarf historian, I found the whole thing rather boring, this is one of those times I have mentioned where its nice to have some one of the feminine persuasion to talk to. It came up that Meina does not know how to read or write, so I started to teach her. I was tempted to teach the succubi way, but I decided not to, I think that would have just made things worse. However the succubi way does it get results quickly. Besides I don't even have the right tools. When we get back I am having James either get me or help me make the stuff I need for an workout room a girls got to keept in shape. Oh the things I will show him and the things I will teach Meina.
File: 1347861428287.jpg-(59 KB, 739x770, Lucerne.jpg)
59 KB
The sun began to set on the first day of the tournament. Morning would surely bring more games and glory. I briefly wondered whether any more sweet stunts like the ice cream would be pulled the next day.
The street was littered with spilled food, the smell of alcohol, and the occasional lightweight sleeping his drink off. A drink sounded quite nice, actually; I was tired after such a long day, and the tourney was merely a third of the way over.
There was a large barbeque that night; both roasted meats and a few Old Realm recipes were found there. After eating delicious American cheeseburgers, I found my way back to Serenity, and we soon retired home for the evening.

Beds are so comforting to a sore body.
Today we were accosted by a band of Orcs. Things looked like they were going to go badly but James handled it, apparently he knows a thing or two about orcs.
“I am Ozgrumuch, and I seek the Clan of Thunder Rift.”
“I am Krakdour Keeper of the Pass in to the High Orc lands, None may pass unless they can prove themselves worthy.”
“What would you have me do old man.”
“You speak well for a young outsider pup, but do not get cocky, you need to prove that you have earned your name.”
“Well son of a bitch, this is going to suck. Lilly if I die I just want you to know that I enjoyed the hate sex, and the normal sex, and the kinky sex, also I love you.”
“Your not going to die, we both know your to stubborn to do anything properly.”
“Well then with that out of the way, go on hit me with your best shot fire awayyyyy.”
And then the guard stabbed James in the chest. I nearly fainted away at that moment, sure that James had just been killed. Meina rushed forward sword at the ready, but James still standing held out an arm to block her path.
“I am all right, it is only a flesh wound.”
“Its not a flesh wound there's a sword sticking out of your chest.”
“Its fine, by the way Keeper your not getting your sword back in one piece.” James said and then broke the end off. He handed it to the Orc who had a look of stunned oblivion on his face.
“Very well you and your priestess may enter Lord Ozgrumuch.”
We walked a bit into the Pass and then once we were out of sight of the Keeper, James fell to the ground and I was really worried.
“You idiot why the hell did you let him stab you.”
“I didn't look at the coat.” He said lying on the ground, his voice short of breath.
“What the hell does that have to do with anything.”
“Look there is no hole where he was stabbed.”
“Thank you Meina. What I did was break the blade with magic and then held the hilt in place with more magic. A little illusion to cover up what I did and bingo. Thing is it took a lot out of me, disintegrating a object is hard it turns out. I just need to rest a bit.”
Then I punched him in the gut.
“That was for making me worry.”

We would shortly find our way to Thunder Rift Valley. Its not hard to find, just look for the valley with a bunch of storm clouds over it. We passed by the homes of a few other clans of High Orcs, but we kept moving on by. So there we were making our way into the valley and we get stopped by more orc guards. To borrow a phrase I have heard OutRealmers say I was about ready to rip these orcs a new one, when the one wearing the most ornate hat said.
“You have been expected, the Lady wishes to see you.”
And then we were guided to a large building carved into the side of a cliff wall. We were led to a throne room where a Orc woman resided on a throne. From the look on James's face it was clear that he knew her but was shocked to see her, which did not make much sense to me as if this was the friend he had came to see then way the stunned expression.
“Hello Dear, its been a while hasn't it. Unfortunately things have not been well since we last were. Tyrone fell in combat to monsters from the north and the she-bitch Snow Queen hounds us near every night. My honorable parents Lord Silpthj and High Priestess Myryn were slain by the Snow Queen's magic, leaving me in a precarious situation. Luckily, Ter reviled to me in his eyes that you would lead our people to salvation.”
“So let me guess, somehow I technically proposed to you, then since we did it that’s viewed as sealing the deal, you were in a bind with someone claiming that you could not rule for some reason unless you were married and then you tell them about me.”
“Rather astute, much more than last time.”
“Last time I was low on blood and high on pain and pain killers. Plus it helps that I read this book.”
“Well then my Lord, you should be able to guess what comes next.”
“A celebration to welcome the Lord and savior, then a night on guard where we will be attacked someone will more than likely die and then I and a select few will go off and slay the cold bitch and save the day.”
“Sounds about right, so I see you picked up some servant girls, though I have to say the large Holstaui one looks like she would only be good for a place to rest ones head. And the twig like one, looks like she must be your cook.”
“Hey.” Meina and I shouted at the same time.
“Riudiabie, actual going to start calling you Ruby I think. Ruby you can belittle me how ever you wish but DO NOT talk bad about the girls.”
The party was rather stifling and boring, lots of people swearing loyalty to the king and queen. Not really sure how I feel about that, sure I am all for free love, but I don't like how shes married to him when I am not, then again I do fit the role of mistress. I don't want to.

The Orc woman dragged James off, he asked me how I felt about it first though. Said he would respect my wishes. I told him to go be with his wife. It hurt to say it. I don't get it, I've slept with more than my share, I plan on getting myself a harem, yet I can't stand the thought of him with some one else.

In the night creatures made of snow and ice attacked, just being near them chilled me to the core. I had never heard of such creatures. They were scary, froze people whole. That said they were far from the scariest thing on the field of battle. That title fell to James as always, during battle his eyes glaze over with pure hate. He just gets this thousand yard stare thing going on. Combine that with this feral grin he gets, and the look is more than a bit intimidating. The real scary thing though is his ferocity in battle. He's a typhoon with that sword of Fury and his magic skill is rapidly improving.

The ice monsters were tough, hellfire hardly made a dent in them. Fury though ate from them like they were naught but air. It's heat was so intense even I felt like I was burning up. But its heat was comforting in a strange way. If I were to put it into words, I would have to say that it was like being wrapped up in a big blanket of protection. The battle was short but fierce. Over in twenty minutes, but there were at least fifty orcs dead after it was said and done.
Done for night sleep now, finish tomorrow after work.
Honestly, I blame the Sabaton. I went on a bender, and felt the need for tales of epic proportions.

I can get carried away really easily when orchestral and powerful music plays.
I don't remember the pocket glass. Could you either remind me, or elaborate on exactly what it is? Because all I can think of is a mirror or binoculars.
Broken glass in one's pocket. You throw it to distract an enemy.
You need some more Simon and Garfunkel

Man, I really wanna write this piece between Kikki and Fearghaile, it's just such a damned balance. Anyone have any suggestions based on previous work or mine?
File: 1347862272324.jpg-(81 KB, 625x417, 1334519869466.jpg)
81 KB
In case anyone missed, can I get some comments and critique on this? It's late and I need to sleep, but I intend to continue in the afternoon.
Pocket Sand!

Never a Simon and The Funk fan, but if I need to relax, I'll go with some Tom Petty.

On a different note, I keep checking the Wiki, and its still growing. Good work fellas.
And that's it. Felt like throwing some more writefaggotry on the pile.

Very good. Nice format, easy to read, and enjoyable.
aim for the eyes boo.
Indeed, aside from that there are no canon Jungle elves, nicely done. Work on some of the dialog indicators I also think that was the first writefag we've had that's actually featured the Earrubber as a primary character. Unless I'm missing one from the early threads?
I feel silly for not remembering the most basic of 4chan's missile attacks, and must commit honorable sudoku.
>Work on some of the dialog indicators
The idea was that the banter was just a mishmash of voices that Felram couldn't exactly differentiate between, which is why they have no indicator since its from his point of view.
I liked reading about the view of an adventure from an immigrants perspective. Rather refreshing.
Ah, then it might have been better to make that clearer. I was getting a bit lost as to who was saying what sometimes and if it was the other side of the dialog or a third party was commenting.

Anyway, any general comments on what I've contributed? I don't tend to ask much, I'm just in a bit of a block for once.

Aside from the really brief nature of what you've posted for the festival, I think it's been a good indication of the kind of passive culture around the Kingdom of TeeGee
The festival?

Whoop, consider me over tired Sir. For some reason I thought you were Sir Alaric!

I enjoyed your writing so far, as for general comments, you seem to have a tight sense of style in how you write, and its good because its generally easy to read and follow along with. I enjoy your character, and Kikki as well, the banter between the two is adorable.

My only quip is during your Sir Gary post where I noticed that for some reason, "The Dragoons" are posted as light infantry, yet you carry lances. I'm not quite sure I follow.
Oh that? Lances are often quickly discarded upon initial engagement. They're often too unwieldy to use beyond that, and they're liable to splinter eventually, but otherwise, not a comment on narrative style.
File: 1347865483998.jpg-(25 KB, 400x400, 1306307276628.jpg)
25 KB

Yes, but... infantry... lances... not mounted...?
If they are mounted... then they aren't.... infantry...
Oh damn, did I post that? Bah, my bad. Well, technically, Dragoons are supposed to just be mounted infantry anyway, so... yeah, I'm tired too...

Well, if you put a man on a horse, then he is mounted, and so he is cavalry. If he isn't then he is foot infantry. So... what is he? Heh.
Basically, they'd get to the battle by horse, and then hop off into the fray. Allows for infantry to get into the battle without having to be exhausted from the march. Mounted infantry goes back to Greek times.
And what about horsemen? are they infantry or cavalry?
Something I noticed while proofreading your posts for the book. You mention Ear Day in the year 1 AA. However, that would date the entry during the Hard Months. Are you assuming a year zero, thus placing it a full ear after the Hard Months?
Dear, sweet buttery, candy-coated Jesus Christ on a pogo stick and lumberjack Buddha with a chainsaw! You people REALLY don't fuck around with your writefaggotry! Now I've got to trawl through all of this...

On another note though, I liked Sir Gary's impression of the other knights (from the quick skim I gave the thread). Always good to have an outside, but in-character perspective of different characters.
Okay, gonna explain the concept of the Mounted Infantry to ya fa/tg/uys.

Mounted Infantry is simply that. You stick an Infantry Regiment on horses, they ride to battle, dismount, and go fuck shit up.

The Australian Light Horse Regiments are the most successful and widely known examples of this. In sections of 4 men, they ride into battle before dismounting. Each section has another man assigned to look after the horses whilst the dismounted infantry fight. They can call for their horses at a moments notice, allowing quick withdraw and lightning assaults and repositions.

We also have the Distinction of being the Army that performed the last successful Cavalry Charge, with mounted infantry using Bayonets. Not Swords.
Beersheeba. Ever heard of it? Yeah. We're just awesome like that.

The last actual cavalry charge goes to the Polish army in WWII, when they attempted to charge entrenched German positions in the German Invasion of Poland. Suffice to say, Machineguns make incredibly short work of horses and men.
Well, another day over, and I see you've returned to hear of yet another tale? Well, at least you are constant, he youngling! Well, I'll tell you a quick one, I promised Tomoe I wouldn't stay out as late as last night, and Larissa said she had surprise in store for me later on... Bah, you don't want to hear about that, do you? No! You want to hear of Adventure and Grandeur! Well than, I shall endeavor to tell you a tale, a tale of a tail, mixed with tails.

OI! I'M TELLING THE STORY! Bloody hell, you all didn't have to yell it at once!

Ah hah hahah~, oh it has been quite some time I've laughed that hard, Monty Python always cracks me up. At least all these jokers at the bar got the joke I set up! But I've rambled, lets begin this Tale of mine shall we?
File: 1347877460099.jpg-(698 KB, 2294x2814, 1334065332399.jpg)
698 KB
Sorry about that, I type as I go, so it may seem a little off compared to others. Really I'd prefer to have quality over quantity, though.
It was the 15th of Midyear, about a month after I had rescued Tomoe and since returned to Castle Waifu. I resumed my place amongst the Guard, and Tomoe soon joined us out of a mix of boredom and perhaps to show me up. She was a welcome addition to the Guard, having pretty damn good skills with her katana and learning quickly in the saddle.

You might think the Guard stand upon the walls all day, but we also roam out and about, around the fields and farms, keeping the peace and keeping everyone safe. Back then, the roads were still a dangerous place to be, and Bandits were much braver back then.

Though Sir Fearghaile had formed the Dragoons recently, I didn't join. The Cavalry was not my ideal place to be, I prefer to fight on the ground, where I can use my lighter swords to better effect.
I functioned more like a Light Horseman from my home country back in the Old Realm, using Shadowfax to get where I needed to be then fighting on foot. We were still in our early days back then, and word was spreading of TeeGee and how anyone could live here, with no bigotry, fairness and the right to quest for one's Waifu.

That of course meant that many travelled to TeeGee, an influx of all races and types of people, most with high hopes and little to lose.

It brought with it the dregs of society too. Small bands of travelers are easy for bandits and slavers to ambush, especially on the long roads to TeeGee from Mithherah.

I made it my personal duty to go out and protect those roads, enlarging the circle of protection offered by TeeGee. The bandits and slavers would fear me because I hated them. I wanted to give them no rest or respite.
So its low numbers infantry that needs horse maintenance resources like chivalry and can't fight in hard terrains like infantry?
>charging machineguns
>with bayonets, not swords
why, somebody ever used a sword efficiently in a charge?
yeah, awesome like that...
A horse can go nearly anywhere a man can. Light Horse Regiments are not cavalry, they are mounted infantry. It makes more sense when they had rifles, rather than swords, but they arrive onto the battlefield, and can move anywhere on said battlefield, dismount and suddenly you have a Regiment of infantry right where they shouldn't be, all up in your battlelines wreaking chaos and shit.

using a sword from horseback is surprisingly effective, you have the momentum of the horse added to the swing, and against unarmoured infantry its sheer murder. Against armoured foes you start to need Maces, Lances and spears.
Alright /tg/, I have an issue. I want to write more for this setting, maybe finally write a waifu for Sir Andrew, but the issue is... Everything's been done already, especially in the waifu department...
Dragon? Been done.
Elf? Done and then some
Holstaurus? Done.
Kitsune? Done
Human? Last time I tried that, I started a diplomatic incident!

I don't know guys; am I failing in one of the most important regards, for a Harem Knight? I don't want to seem like a copycat, but it seems my interests are too similar to other peoples'.

That and some guys I know IRL read this board and I just know I'll never hear the end of it.

Tomoe and I talked it over, and she made it quite clear she was coming with me.
“It’s obvious that you can’t look after yourself, so I’ll have to come with you stupid. You can’t fight as well as I can, and someone has to mend your clothes and give you attention when you get wounded, Spirits know you won’t do it. And what would I do here in Castle Waifu whilst you get to have all the fun travelling? It’s not like I want to go back out travelling with you or anything…”
“Or anything what?” I questioned her.
“Well, you wouldn’t be here, and… and… you can’t brush my tails and keep them perfect if you’re out there! So I have to come along, show you how it’s done and that’ll keep you-me from getting bored at the castle, see? It’s a perfect plan!”
“…..Riiiiiight. You know you’re really cute when you make up excuses to be at my side, eh?”
“You jackass,” she began as a book came sailing towards my head, “it’s not like that!”
“Nope. It is. See, you’ve gone redder than a tomato.” I slyly observed after having dodged the book.
“So what? That’s final, I’m coming with you because you need my help!” she all but ordered.
“Man, you need to chill out more Tomoe. Learn to unrustle those jimmies, eh?” I quipped before laughing.
“Bah! Y-you wouldn’t last a day out there without me and my fluffy tails…” She mumbled as she stroked one of her beautiful red tails.
“How will I find out, if you’re coming with me? Not that I’m complaining eh…”
“Shaddup you idiot. You’re over thinking it, now go and pack! See, lost without me….”

So, we set out with two weeks provisions and began to patrol the roads around Castle Waifu. The first week was uneventful, and it wasn’t until probably the 9th day before we encountered any bandits.
I haven't seen a Harpy Waifu yet I don't think...
When Germany invaded Poland the poles actually did have a few successful cavalry charges. They did around 16 of them during the war.
Hmm, I'll have to check that, my history books have all showed the Light Horse had the last successful charge.

Damned crazy Polacks!
Last successful OFFENSIVE Charge belongs to the Australian Light Horse at Beersheeba.

The Polish charges were all defensive in nature, not part of offensive actions, make what you will of that.
>A horse can go nearly anywhere a man can
that NEARLY is the reason why cavalry was employed almost only on flatland.
> Light Horse Regiments are not cavalry etc.
Look, I'm just saying that mounted infantry presents more flaws than advantages. its not anywhere near awesome.
>using a sword horseback is sheer murder on unarmored troops
show me a non-antiarmor weapon that isn't effective aganist people without protection.
You don't hear much about the polish cavalry because of german and soviet propaganda that said they tried charging german tanks.
Well I AM a sucker for wings... The wings-as-arms thing has never been a turn-on for me though. I could go one with the list, to be frank:
Angel? Done and too rare to have another one without raising eyebrows and mutters of 'Sue'.
Medusa? Been done, it's established they can't turn off the stone-ing power too, so not my thing.
Lamia? Been done and not a huge fan of the snake-legs, though magic can solve that...
Devil or part-devil? Been done.

There's plenty that haven't been done, of course, but none spring to mind which I actually like... Should I just bite the bullet and write something that's already been done?
So, we set out with two weeks provisions and began to patrol the roads around Castle Waifu. The first week was uneventful, and it wasn’t until probably the 9th day before we encountered any bandits. As Tomoe and I looked for a place to make camp under the clear sky, we heard a terrified scream. It was coming close to sunset, the sun low and blood red upon the horizon. Another scream split the silent skies, and Tomoe and I pushed our horses into the gallop towards the sounds of terror. We came around the bend and saw a family in a caravan being attacked by a band of about a dozen bandits. No two men had the same weapons, confirming them as thieves and lowlives. I took the left, and Tomoe the right. I drew my cavalry saber and Tomoe a spear she had acquired and we charged. I let out a fierce battlecry as we descended upon them like Demons out of the sunset.

“Under this sun no shadows will fall, piercing our eyes as we CHARGE!” I shouted as we hit them.

My sword flashed in the blood red sunset as I slashed the first bandit across his back, his scream loud. Shadowfax crushed another bandit underhoof before I could swing at a third bandit, taking his head from his shoulders. Tomoe had already speared a fourth bandit and killed another with a fireball before her run took her through to the other side of the road. I had stopped in the middle of the enemy instead, Shadowfax rearing up and kicking a bandit in the face after he tried to stab the proud horse. I wheeled Shadowfax around to give chase to the few remaining bandits who had begun to flee. Tomoe joined me, already swinging back around to catch the cowards. We ran them down and cut them to pieces in short order.
The Boers would like to argue your point against flatland only usage of cavalry.

Awesome or practical, you choose. With the advent of armour the horse's role on the battlefield disappeared.
Cavalry and Light Horse had different roles, but in a pinch Light Horse can and did act as cavalry.

For your last point, yeah you got me there, no arguements.
Lies and propaganda, yes. The Poles effectively used their cavalry, along with their entire army.

The Germans just had more men, more tanks, more aircraft, more friggin everything.

DO what you want mate, no one will look down on you for choosing something that's already been done. We all have our own Waifu.
That's like saying "I don't wanna be a copy cat and think girls are pretty". It doesn't really matter what race your waifu is, bro. What matters who you're waifu is.

Also, I don't think anyone's got a gnomish or halfling waifu, if you're into that sort of thing.
Actually, Sir Kasai, the Poles did not send their cavalry to engage men with repeating rifles in melee. They were armed with a variety of small-arms and often had a horse-carried AT gun. They did end up acquitting themselves fairly well against the Germans.

The Poles also had an antiquated armored train design that was so effective that the Germans ended up implementing some of their own.

The reason that Poland was steamrolled so quickly was because of the German advantage in war material, the effectiveness of the German Low Command, the sheer shock of the Blitzkrieg, the short lines of supply for the Germans and the flat ground of Poland. Flat ground is obviously ideal for Blitzkrieg warfare and even forces that have prepared especially for a Blitzkrieg often suffer massive losses; the battle of Kursk saw some 4:1 casualties on the Russian and German sides respectively, and the Russians had been preparing for the German offensive for YEARS.
wait, what did I fuck up writing this time?

Point out what I'm doing wrong here, sincerely, what you said is going over my head. Is the characterisation poor? It is.... I can see it now.

Dammit. gonna have to rewrite.
Yep, I agree. No one expected the Wermacht to smash through Poland so quickly. Using combined arms manouvre warfare and having Low level commanders be forward thinking and have a good deal of initiative allowed the German Army to advance at a very rapid pace.
there are many many animals that haven't been done, constructs too golems of various and sundry sorts, birds, sea creatures, hell why not some elephants there is a rainforest/jungle area

for the britfag looking for ideas

also, is gary an outrealmer or is he native to the new world
Tomoe and I moved all the bodies to a small clearing off the road and went through the possessions of the bandits. We stripped them of anything of value before Tomoe burned their bodies in a decent sized pyre. Taking the loot back to the camp the travellers had set up, we shared the spoils with them. I took most of the gold, but left enough for the family to get a good start on when they reached TeeGee. Tomoe and I didn’t take any of the weapons, they were of okay quality but we were already happy with our arms. The travellers accepted the rest of the loot, after I told them they could sell the stuff at Castle Waifu. We shared a meal and small talk with them as the stars came out, then I took the first watch when all was done and sleep called. The watch was clean, and Tomoe took over around midnight.

Come the morning and we bade our charges farewell, sending them onwards to Castle Waifu as we set off down the road once more. For a few more days we travelled, my Waifu and I, sharing the simple pleasures in the relative peace we encountered. But on the last day of our patrol disaster struck. Tomoe and I were off the road a short ways, investigating the sounds of sweet fuck all when we heard several horses going by. We trotted over to the road, emerging roughly 100 meters ahead of the small group. Three men on horseback, along with half a dozen swordsmen escorted a few chained girls, 3 Felim and a Lamia.
“Hail, travellers. How are you?” I called out to them.
“Off the road, we’re in a hurry.” Their leader called back.
“Why are those girls in chains?” I pressed.
“’Cause they are, fuckface. Out of the way, before I kill you and add you friend to them!” he shouted to me.
I think he mis-clicked and was talking to me.

Mermaid or selkie, maybe... Ditto a bird-girl? Eh, we'll see.

You know what? You're right. Thanks. I'll get to writing right away!

On another note, why is it so hard to find a decent pic of the Dragon Princess from Maoyuu Maou Yuusha?
No worries mate, I saw that he miss replied AFTER I posted.

And go for it, write away! I'm nearly done.
Small dating inconsistency, I'd like it if you could fix the dates so that they are more appropriate. I'm guessing the earlier entries shouldn't have an A.A. until my mention of the formal calendar. I personally consider 1 A.A. as the first year since our arrival. Here the dating system gets a bit queer because we don't exactly know when we arrived, so our New Year and calendar may not exactly sync up correctly, but then again we have Lunar and Solar calendars back in the Old World and those rarely sync up so yeah.
another idea, you've heard of the vorpal bunny, right? and i'm guessing you've also heard of bunny girls. now combine them
vorpal bunny girl
Also squirrel girls that'd be all over your nuts or something.

Expect more papers and religions a bit later tonight.
My blood boiled. Slavers. But we were outnumbered, and in the open. I turned Shadowfax and began to trot away, Tomoe following me. Just as she reached my side, an arrow flew from the slavers and struck me in the left shoulder. I cried out in pain and Tomoe gasped. Another arrow shot past us even as Tomoe swung her horse around and roared a challenge. Shadowfax had already turned back to face the bastards and followed Tomoe’s charge as I drew my sabre in my unhurt right hand. Good thing I’m right handed, but hanging onto those reins was a bitch. Tomoe hadn’t bothered with her sword, she was throwing fireballs left right and center with both hands. More than half the slavers were aflame by the time we hit them, and she burned them all. I never got to swing my sword. I did however chase after two of the horses who spooked after having their riders fall them on fire. I quickly caught the two horses and brought them back to the poor girls, Tomoe having caught the third. Tomoe handed me her horse and the captured one before turning to the dead body of the lead slaver. She fished the keys from his charred corpse and unlocked the chains on the slaves, freeing them. They fell to their knees and thanked us profusely. I told them to take the free horses and ride home and be safe. The Felim kept thanking us even as they mounted up and rode off. The Lamia girl stayed still as a rock through the whole thing. After the Felim rode away, she came up to me and offered her help with the arrow still in my shoulder. She had some healing magic she explained.
I thanked her for the help and asked Tomoe to grab the horses, which she did, leading them to a tree and tying them off so they wouldn’t wander off. I dismounted Shadowfax and sat down in the shade, pulling one of my daggers out and giving it to the Lamia handle first.
“W-What do I do with that?!?” She squeaked.
“Cut the clothes away and pull the arrow out, right?” I told her.
“O-oh. Are y-you sure, this cloak looks expensive…” She shyly stuttered.
“Bah, a few patches and it’ll be right as rain mate. Come on, the adrenalin is wearing off and it hurts.”

Tomoe came over at that moment, angry and relieved at the same time.
“How did you manage to get shot? Seriously, can you do anything right Kasai?”
“Hey, you’re supposed to be the one looking after me Tomoe! How could you let me get shot?” I replied happily. The Kitsune went bright red at that.
“Moron! You’re just so broad shouldered that archer couldn’t have missed you!” she huffed.
“Um, excuse me, but I-I’m ready to pull the arrow out now.” The Lamia announced.
“Alright sweety, here’s a tip. Count to 3, and pull it out on 2 or 4. Trust me.” I told her, not wanting to tense up, but mostly so I wouldn’t expect the pain.
“O-Okay then… 1… 2…”

“H-Hold still please, I need t-to h-heal the wound…” She asked me.
I complied, with Tomoe hovering over the both of us, the worry plain as day on her face. After a few minutes she was done, the magic all tingly.
“Whew, all done Sir. Y-you’ll h-have a scar, but your shoulder will b-be o-kay.” She stuttered as she got up and moved around to face me.
Tomoe swooped in and looked at the scar, clucking her tongue.
“Thank you Miss, you’ve done an okay job. He owes you for that now.” Tomoe said to the girl, a little abruptly but with genuine appreciation in her voice.
“Yeah, Tomoe is right. I owe ya big time. We’ll help you return home, anything, you name it.” I offered too.

The girl started to tear up, bawling her fists over her chest. “I don’t have a family anymore. T-t-these men k-killed them all.”

“Then I’ll be your new family. You are more than welcome to come with Tomoe and I back to Castle Waifu and live with us until you want to do something else.”
“What? You can’t just do tha-“ Tomoe began, but I cut her off.
“I can, and I just did. She saved my arm.” I said sternly to my Waifu.
Tomoe nodded, realization in her eyes. I had done the very same for her, hadn’t I?
A race of rabbit-people who are probably among the most deadly folks in the world?

...Why am I suddenly reminded of all the Redwall books I read as a child? Except that was hares. Eh, we'll see. The map we've been given is only about the size of France and Germany together. That's big, not not massive. I'm sure there's plenty out there just waiting to be discovered! The only issue is how much can one see in a given lifetime? And how much would one miss while out adventuring? Keep in mind, Sir Andrew only left in the year 7A.A.

That reminds me, regarding the dating system... Whenever I've written, I've given the date as 'x year after arrival', meaning the calendar would start in the 1st year after arrival, so 1A.A. But going by everyone else... What, are we counting out first year in the world the year 0A.A.? That doesn't seem to make a whole lot of sense to me.
“Sorry sweety, go ahead and take all the time you need to make your choice.” I told the lamia girl in a polite voice.
“I-I’ll come with you, if it wouldn’t be too much of a hassle Sir…”
“Excellent! I suppose introductions are in order, how rude of me. I am Sir Akane Kasai, Guardsman of Castle Waifu. This is my Waifu, Tomoe Kasai. Pleased to meet you!”
“My n-name is Larissa, Sir.”
“Nope. NOPE. None of that Sir crap from you. You saved me for no reason of your own. You can call me Akane, Kasai, shithead, whatever you want.” I lightly scolded Larissa with a laugh.

She gave a little giggle, and smiled at me. It was like her whole world had just lit up, it was beautiful. She reached in and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek.
“T-thank you Kasai…”

“H-hey! He’s mine to kiss!” Tomoe stated in horror, blushing hard.

I sorted that one out real quickly, grabbing both girls in a big hug before kissing them both.
“Can’t you share?” I teased them with my best trollface grin.

Both girls blushed redder than I thought possible, then glanced at each other. I don’t know what the fuck happened in that split second but I swear I saw them just connect, just by their eyes. Then I got the everloving shit squeezed out of me by the two girls in an epic hug.

Well, after that we rode back to Castle Waifu with Larissa riding with me, her tail wrapped tightly around my waist. The guard at the gates nodded to me as I rode back in.

“Dem Scales, those fluffy tails man.” Was all I could say before laughter claimed me and Tomoe lead us home.
Wow, that one turned out longer than I thought!

Another 2,500 words added to the story word count.
3 tales of Sir Kasai so far, and a total just shy of 8,000 words.

I am also so proud of myself that I didn't make an Adventurer/Arrow/Shoulder joke there.
No mistake that you suggested the idea, but you wouldn't have had to if I hadn't attempted fit "The Winter" and my kit description all into an intro chapter. Trying to jump in this late in the game can create problems, especially if people are as tired of The Winter scene as they seem to be.
>Sword and spear are a fine combination, no matter how weeaboo.
Well now I think you are just fuckin' with me. How does a slightly overgrown scimitar and a short spear make one a weaaboo nowadays? Usually thats reserved for the "Katata best swoard evar cuts through tanks!" crowd.
Hey, I'm the resident Weeaboo and I don't take offense at that!

>Gets cavalry sabre in second tale, uses it liberally over katana in third tale.
>Guys am I doin' it wrong?
>>Guys am I doin' it wrong?
If weeaboo is your goal? Probably >.>

Also, how would you feel about a dude who eventually is completely devoted to killing slavers and freeing their slaves?
No worries, he will always have Sir Kasai's sword. Tomoe reckons that she'll throw her sword in too, seeing as Kasai has to be looked after. Larissa says she'll come too, but she's sorry if she doesn't do any good, she is still bad with her bow...

For god sake guys, stop making so much stuff, I can't keep up with writing AND reading now.

Short critique on everything I've read so far:
I don't like your grimdark. Maybe I've idealized the whole setting too much, but going neck breaking, vivisecting and all that jazz isn't a thing I like to read. Unless you wanted to make your character as unsettling as you could go, then yeah, you done a splendid job. Too splendid even.

>Jay Dubya
I don't like your style guys. That's it.

>Red White and Britfag
Every single one of you is in my good books. There are few things I didn't like, killing a noble and that Gray thing, but you are cool.

You. Yes you. You go from "oh man, I like to read this guy" to "welp, let's skip some lines and keep reading". Hell if I know man.

I feel left out.....

I must suck.

I left out shittons of people, so don't feel left out. Just written about most memorable and/or active writers.
File: 1347891203423.jpg-(25 KB, 409x334, 1313227378338.jpg)
25 KB

Forgot to add:

Stop with the seriousness a little bit guys. Somebody already mentioned that slice-of-life thing is fun if done properly. Less grimderp would be cool too.

I'm looking at you Harbinger.
You don't suck! You just... Have a vacuum-related issue! That's it! I kid; I'm sure you're fine and just got forgotten a bit. Sadly, I can't keep up with everything that's been written, so I can't give too much of an informed opinion.

Jesus Christ, looking back, have we really written this much? There is something seriously wrong with us, guys... Or do I mean right?
Sorry for spamming up the thread, but what ever happened to Marieth Renwald? Did she get packed off home after all? Kind of important to the first bit of what I'm writing (I get the feeling this is going to be a doozy. Place your bets now on whether it'll break my last story's 7k words!
And here I stand forgotten? For shame.
Yea she got sent back home after like a month or two.

Also, I'd just like to ask everyone a question: While reading the bit on the Grey, a story about people getting TAKEN by THE GREY, the spirit of a man who had a loved one TAKEN from him. Was I the only one giggle like a little bitch imaging the ghost of Liam Neeson breaking into peoples houses and stealing shit and then going all Jason Bourne on people who walk in on him and dragging them kicking and screaming into the darkness?
Your exclamations keep getting better and better. I may have to steal these for a later date.

I'll fix that, yeah.

You know, I really want to write a story about Ferdinand Feghoot, International Troubleshooter. However, I just can't think of any good puns.
File: 1347896481713.gif-(12 KB, 650x450, welp.gif)
12 KB
>wake up
>see therad
Jesus. How the fuck am I supposed to keep up with this. We definatly need to start getting stories up on 1d4chan, just so I can actualy read them all.
In fact, I'm making a page for Harbringer's studies now. They were already a little long for the main page, and are still more so with this thread's addition.
And now that's done.
I'd like to see more stuff with the noble, actually. She seemed like an interesting character.
Ah, Marieth was her name. I'm horrible with names.

To quote a friend of mine; "You have a good memory. Short, but good."
I would think there are too many to just pile on to that one page. Then again, I've barely visited 1d4chan, so I don't know how they are about that.
I know. I suggested a while ago that we make a category for all these, but I guess everyone was to busy writing to set one up. Harbringer's stories already have their own page, though.
Archived this thread; everybody go vote it up
I can't in to wikis.
No need, I've already copied and proofread all his stuff on Google Docs.

As this is for the book, I've added my own in-character annotations. Nothing that'll get in the way of Harbinger's stuff, though. If you have any problems with what I've written, feel free to say so here or in Google Docs. (You can comment by highlighting and right-clicking text.)

For your consideration, good knights, a new race!
The Coininoch (coi-'n-in-ach)

At first glance, one may be forgiven for thinking the Coininoch are harmless. After all, what could possibly be threatening about someone with tall, furry ears and with a little ball of fluff for a tail?

That question is quickly answered when one sees a Coininoch warrior ready for battle. Their skin streaked with blue dye and red blood, the typical clansman (or woman, they don't discriminate) wearing little armour but carrying, at a minimum, a dagger, a skinning knife known as a 'skean dhu', a round targe and a basket-hilted broadsword. Many warriors carry axes, in addition to this fearsome armoury and some, particularly their nobility and clan chiefs, carry double-edged, two-handed claymores, capable of cleaving through an armoured warrior with ease. The typical battle strategy of the Coininoch is simple and brutally effective; an all-out charge designed to shock and awe the enemy. Between the shrill war-screams of the warriors, the shriek of bagpipes and the sheer speed of the charge (Coininoch legs are exceptionally and disproportionately powerful, giving them a top speed roughly equal to a warhorse at a full gallop), many foes are broken by the very first charge.
The Coininach are fiercely clannish, forming extended families who all owe allegiance to the clan laird, who in turn owes it to the Baron of the Clans, the closest thing the Coininach have to an overall ruler. Although there is almost never any bloodshed between families within a clan, the Coininoch seem to hold a grudge like no other creature on the face of the world, save perhaps the dragons. Rivalries and hatreds between clans can stretch on for generations, at best resulting in two tribes endlessly trying to out-do one another, at worst resulting in bloodshed and bitter wars that only the Baron, or a hero can put an end to. The Coininoch put great stock in heroes, believing them to have 'keuthes', sort of like supernatural luck in a particular area, such as 'war-keuthes'. Great deeds win a hero keuthes, while dishonourable acts lose it.

The Coininach are omnivorous, as a result of the land they live in. Though they greatly enjoy vegetables, particularly carrots (as to be expected), they grow mainly hardy grain crops and keep sheep and goats for wool and mutton. Cattle are highly valuable to them and generally kept by the laird, near to the clan castle, where they can be closely watched. Wool clothing is the norm for them, with the tartan kilt being universally worn, along with wool tunics, though the men often go bare-chested, particularly in battle. Accessories shawls for women, with both genders occasionally wearing caps or bonnets, often a favoured place to carry a skean dhu, if it is not tucked into the back of the belt, or strapped to the leg.

Sadly, she was sent home. No way of knowing if she won't come back though! She doesn't seem the type to stay put and behave when she thinks so little of her father suddenly.
File: 1347903444249.gif-(747 KB, 248x200, damnnit.gif)
747 KB
>No need
>I'd already finished
>my face
Oh god, what are you fagets up to?
/tg/ unified settings 2? only fluff until now? is this going to be usable with a preexistent system or not? what monstergirls are present?
...the fuck happened in my two weeks away from the board?
>skean dhu
Oh lord we have fuzzy little Scotswaifus.
In short, consider the Coininoch to be Scottish war-bunnies! I won't be using them for a while yet, as they live out, beyond the Gnoll wastes (who I will also be fleshing out as cannibals), but I wanted to put the idea to you folks so no-body goes and claims rabbit-people first.

Expect whiskey, bagpipes, haggis, headbutts and cries of, "I'll do yoo, Jimmeh!"
A Wizard did it.

"It" was making a picture that transported everyone who opened it to a fantasy realm. A lot of us died over the first winter. Then we decided to rub elf ears. The rest is history.
Love it. Seems a bit weird they managed to make bagpipes, though. Maybe something similar?
"Fuzzy? FUZZY?! Why don'tcha come here and say that tae me face, ye scunner! I'll have ye know, no warrior of th' Cottontail clan's ever been called 'fuzzy' and let the water-drinker who said it live tae tell th' tale! What next? Ye gonna call us 'rabbit'? 'Grass-eaters'? Ye mammy puts sugar in yer porridge, doesn't she!"

Did I mention the women stand about 178cm (without the ears) and the men stand about 185 (without the ears) and both are generally BUILT? Most of the time, the insults and fights are good-natures, thank the gods... You'll only loose one or two teeth at most.

All the same, don't ever laugh at a Coininach woman in a dress. Bad things happen. They always find SOMEWHERE to hide a skean dhu, or a a dirk, or other pointy object. Sometimes, they just want to feel like real ladies.
Let's see...we've been pulling from D&D, Dog Days, Dark Souls, and god only knows where else.
...this means I really have to read everything, eh?
And it. Is. Glorious.

Only if you're interested in toxic levels of awesome.

Bagpipes were made traditionally from animal skins, like goats. I already established they keep those.

Besides, what else will they play, while hunting the braw' and canny haggis?
No. Let's see what I can remember...

Most of /tg/ is teleported to another realm, but only a bit over 1000 survive the winter long enough for the Felim(cat people) to find and rescue us. We scavenged/traded for weapons and made war on a city of elves that was attacking us, killed their men, and their women decided to join us. We then formed an order of knights dedicated to questing and acquiring waifus.

A few years later we got attacked by a horde of orks, but after repeling most of their force, the ork women turned on their men and joined us instead.

Since then we've had some political entrigue, to include a duke's daughter who wanted to join us(don't remember how that turned out) and I think somewhere in there we had a beach party/tournament.

All that from a comment in another thread where someone said they just wanted to run elf ears.
File: 1347905237345.jpg-(576 KB, 1920x1080, 1341033870859.jpg)
576 KB

>What the hell I'm even-
>Wait, I get it.

I approve, but where do they live?
If you want to, look over here.
Oh, well, I always considered the Kanin relatively Scott themed... Hmmm... Perhaps they can now be more Irish themed?

The bunny girls can live in the northern highlands of the Snarltooth Isles and be in union with the Kanin kingdoms (but will make sure you KNOW they are independent). I would recommend allowing greater variation in height (I mean, the Scotts aren't exactly known for their giants) and temperment. They might be Scottish, but they're still Rabbit people. The docile nature will have to transfer over on some level.

>but will make sure you KNOW they are independent

Nope! I have the Coininoch palced beyond the Gnoll wastes. Sorry folks.
Entry 12, 7th First Seed
I was wrong. It also seems I have misread Sir Fearghaile's intentions. He actually holds a great personal interest in my studies. Regardless, I have enlisted his help in trying to translate Felim concepts over to Common, it is slow going. Additional delays in the form of his diplomatic missions and my own research will not help. However, I was able to organise some sort of discussion/seminar in Castle Waifu's courtyard using world lore as bait.
It was a complete and utter failure. Despite several cries of “OP is a fag” in the audience (which admittedly broke the ice better than I could have), it was not that which made discussion of religion in foreign kingdoms next to impossible. I never wished to be the victim of the legendary TeeGee derail in real life ever again but the one who derailed us, The Librarian I think, brought up a good point. My dating was inconsistent with the current calendar. That set off the whole crowd in to a heated debate on year 0 and time keeping in general. I think there are still two or three knights left in the courtyard still debating despite it being midnight as I put pen to paper.

There was of course a benefit to all this of course. I have managed to acquaint myself with other explorers of TeeGee namely Sir GearHeart. I've read his drafts on his guide to the indigenous species of the world, most sentient and civilised to some degree, and I must conclude that whatever study I was to do of the major world religions there would still be more to explore.
Then they really must have never made contact with the peoples of these continents then. The rocky wastes are inhospitable to crops and go on for leagues and leagues. It's a wonder the Gnolls can live there
Entry 13, 8th First Seed
I found two knights asleep in the courtyard this morning, the very same from the day before, both mumbling something about invasion by humanoid rabbits. I was only going to the courtyard to remove the sign but before I could more and more were gathering once again, as if the whole seminar was still ongoing despite the disastrous day previous. TeeGee had lorefiends beyond my comprehension.

Briefly, I went over the religions of Mirthterrah before getting to heart of the matter. Their local variations and despite all this, their uniformity. I recall the examples I gave, such as the Church of Salvation which was more a charity and welfare office than house of worship, or the Church of Providence, who are more hands-on with their approach to the faith, almost aggressively so as Sir Fearghaile would relate to me later. Some of the adventurers had of course corrected me and vice-versa I had answered questions to the best of my ability.
We had an interesting discussion as to the nature of the church's hierarchy but until we manage find a willing clergyman, or woman I suppose, our speculation remains just that. My council-based theory of independent churches coming together to discuss, modify or somehow reinterpret existing scripture holds much sway. That aside, another theory was based on a central theological college maintaining some measure of standard and it is the graduates that then deviate to fit in with the locals also proved popular. It fits, the Church of Illumination is considered an authority on theology but without a real insider on church politics, can not be confirmed.

I also mentioned the Serridian Sultanate religious beliefs and practices which seemed to contrast with those from the kingdom of Mirthterrah. They have daily prayers, sometimes more, as opposed to the bi-weekly congregations of the latter. Different names aside, their unique connection with their God comes from a combination of incense and nubile nymph dancing while scantily clad. It is funny when the regular womenfolk cover themselves up, though most assuredly to protect against the environment and not some other reason. Some knights got up at left at that point, where they went was anyone's guess.
I was to discuss Kanin and Felim religions but as the sun set, we all put it off for tomorrow. I was getting tired of speaking and lecturing alone and I will try to enlist the aid of Sirs Fearghaile and GearHeart to talk about their travels and experiences. We may have started on the path of establishing a centre of higher learning, I will have to speak to the Council of DMs about it later. For now, what little education we provided was only at a child's level and as TeeGee grows, we will need to ensure that we are also spiritually and mentally enriched as well.

--Journal of Bhikkhu Thai relaying his thoughts on the three day seminar titled, “Anons' with his waifu, all is right with the world.”
I'm tempted to join in on current events, but as far behind as I am, I feel a bit lost as to what to do. The fact I already wrote my own death aside, I've already written this character off as a questing knight and part-time merc, so I can't figure out many reasons why he'd get involved in much, more so since the situation with our neighbors got settled.
They do go on a hell of a way. Why do you think the Coininoch are so utterly hardcore? They've had to contest with the tribes of cannibal Gnolls for centuries! Once you get to the other side though, things start to get a bit better. You hit the highlands and the Coininach. Beyond those lofty peaks though, I've yet to explo-

You know what? I'll just write about it. May be a while before the odyssey is done though...
I never said it was a BAD thing (though I think I preferred >>20759440 and the idea that Kanins were Scot.
Also, technically it was my Grandmother. Also raisins, cinnamon, and a little applesauce. Best oatmeal ever.

You don't even mention cinnamon. I'm still writing my story involving it.
This should be interesting.

Also, redaction to previous post. Misremembered. No sugar, just fruit (and spice forbidden by Vincent) added.
Sugar beets actually. Not as good as cane sugar, but still passable. And any Coininoch who puts it in his or her porridge is universally regarded as a sissy.

They're still Scott. The highlands are just elsewhere. The Kanin are more lowlands, from the vibe I got.

Just wait a damn second mister. What the hell is wrong with beets sugar? I've been eating it my whole life and it's not big difference from cane one.
Absolutely nothing, just keep it out of the porridge.

Now, I've got to get to writing this shit! I'll also go into why the wastes are so... Waste-y. If that's okay?

Long story short: A wizard did it.
Ah geez, now I feel bad. Can you elaborate, please? Do I need more action? Less? Romantic tension, maybe?
I really want to work on my writing, I just need you to be specific on what I need to do.
I was thinking more just dry badlands, though. Just what kind of wastes are we talking here?
Alright, so it seems that my last little bit of writing is unanimously disliked, even myself now that I read it without being sleep depraved. I have a clever and cliched way to retcon it, fear not friends.

But I will save that till the next thread, as this one seems pretty close to auto-death
It seemed ok to me. If you wanna chage it though...
Eh. I just hate retcons. Do whatever.
Rocky, broken, dry, mostly uninhabitable... You get the idea. I'll go into it when the story's up. May have to wait for the next thread though.
Alright then. Hearing "A wizard did it" in that context made me think of some kinda blasted magic desert shit, which didn't sound so great.

Maybe not retcon it ALL, but certainly after a point. I wrote that when I was crazy tired, and I can tell.

After a quick reread of your stuff from last 2 or 3 threads I guess that your dialogues are off. Also - more than 3 periods. If you want to mark a longer pause in character speech you can as well go with "he/she paused for a little longer".

I'd to see some more character fleshing-out.

Still, it's all OPINIONS. Do or do not. There's no try.
I'll keep that in mind. Dialogue is tricky to write.
I did want more character stuff soon, though, hence the non-action stuff I'm trying to focus on.

Like funnelcakes.
I was thinking Brown Sugar. Good stuff.

I wish I got some feedback.
Is there a repository of some sort for all the lore collected so far, or would I have to read everything up to this point to join in?
Have to read it all. Here's the full archive.

There's a 1d4chan page with a link to a resource thing, but all that's kind of incomplete.
Reading up would be best, though that will take all day, and by then we'll have gone though another thread.

We really ought to take a break from writefagging and get everything squared away on the wiki. It'll be impossable for new writefags to jump in easily otherwise, at the rate we've been going..
You can jump in whenever you want. Basic setting information can be found here
But you can just skim through it and still do alright, we're pretty chill.
Besides that, our only guidelines don't go grimderp and don't add any major events/battles deaths without group consensus.

Alright, the retcon is done. I'll just wait for the next thread to post it because aren't we close to auto-sage?
A short break sounds pretty nice. At the very least, we'll all likely have a thing or two written and then just bombard a thread with them.

That could be beneficial. Not only could we square up the wiki, but we could get some inspiration back and fresh ideas over time.
So, who knows how to wiki here? I don't know how to set up a category.

I may talk hard and fast, but I have no idea how to Wiki.
== section title here ==
Please tell this thread isn't dead.
File: 1347916629707.jpg-(747 KB, 3160x2592, Sallet.jpg)
747 KB
How close are we to autosage?
I honestly have no idea, but I think it best if I save writing my stories for the next thread.
End-of-thread worldbuilding GO!

So, gnolls. What kind of culture are we going for here? I'm thinking a shamanistic/bushmen kinda deal.
I don't think autosage is 300, becasue this is post 299 and the thread is on page 4 and it's been there for the last few posts.

That's what I am doing.
Well, they are hyena men.
Should they use large, bladed boomerangs?
I'll be handling the Gnolls on my adventure through the wastes, coming soon to a thread near YOU.

They're going to be cannibalistic; due to the utter lack of plants in the wastes, the food pyramid is more of a circle. Shamanistic is a yes, but it's the more savage, blood-magic kind. They're one of the few truly evil races in the world.
That sounds interesting.
Ideas. The wastes they live in are windswept, and largly devoid of hills. Their shamans and culture have a strong reverence for the wind, and use wind magic to enhance their boomerangs, which would be made mostly of bone.
Wait wait, just because their race is does it mean there might be exceptions?
Maybe some, but let's keep those rare. We don't wanna turn this into a bunch of Drow-esque "Only good member rejecting the savage ways of his kind" sorta deal. If they're evil, then they're evil. A few might come around, but they'd still be far on the amoral side, if only from force of habit.
What some call 'pragmatic', others call 'evil'. Their culture goes beyond just extreme pragmatism; they actively take pleasure in making their prey suffer and feel fear, before they bring it down and eat it. Tougher meat is a delicacy for them and prey that struggles toughens the meat. The adrenaline flooding the prey's system from fear also gives the meat a flavour they savour. Their entertainment speaks of their evil nature as well. In one of the Drizzt books, I read the phrase, "If you want to see if a race is evil, watch their children playing." Given Gnoll children cause pain, bully the weak to death and steal anything they can get away with from the moment they are able to walk, it's pretty safe to say this is a race of truly evil beings.

But hey, there might be the odd chaotic-good Gnoll ranger running around dual-wielding scimitars, if you MUST. I'M not writing him thought. Drizzt was the first, so he gets a free pass, but no more!
Gnoll bone?
I guess? Or bones from whatever else lives there, if anything. Given >>20762497
I don't think they'd have any shortage of bone from their own race.
So, a species that uses tools and weapons from mainly the bones of their own species? Neat.
Is anyone on? Are we starting the next thread soon?
They could be ancestral weapons, too. The bones of their greatest warriors being made into the finest weapons, those of great shamans being threaded into the robes of their decendents for luck, that sort of thing.
Can we start new thread please?
I'll have it up in a sec

New thread here.
Would you mind saying what you don't like about the style. I have been trying to make it more readable.
All my yes.
I figured out how to share a Google Docs folder, so if anyone wants to take a look and/or comment on what I've done so far, feel free.


Also, I'm hijacking a name that was used in one of the early threads. If the original author wants to take it back, just say so and I'll use another name.

Delete Post [File Only] Password
[a / b / c / d / e / f / g / gif / h / hr / k / m / o / p / r / s / t / u / v / vg / w / wg] [i / ic] [r9k] [cm / hm / y] [3 / adv / an / cgl / ck / co / diy / fa / fit / hc / int / jp / lit / mlp / mu / n / po / pol / sci / soc / sp / tg / toy / trv / tv / vp / wsg / x] [rs] [status / q / @] [Settings] [Home]
[Disable Mobile View / Use Desktop Site]

[Enable Mobile View / Use Mobile Site]

- futaba + yotsuba -
All trademarks and copyrights on this page are owned by their respective parties. Images uploaded are the responsibility of the Poster. Comments are owned by the Poster.