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Jotnotes

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Jotnotes last won the day on October 31 2018

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About Jotnotes

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  • Birthday 05/08/1997

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    Donkey Kong
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    Alberta, Canada
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    Gaming, Writing, Occasionally I Draw Poorly. Jojo's Bizarre Adventure is on there, somewhere.
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  1. Very quick opportunity to do some shopping. When I post next, we'll be moving into the next setpiece right away.
  2. It was a little macabre to hear just how much Aaric knew about taking on fencing jobs. She wasn't precisely clean, herself, but she'd never had to take a contract herself. Typically she would sell a few things to fences, some of her own designs, and never really heard about what happened to them afterward. If anyone ever used her equipment for a felony, she'd never heard about it. That was another boon about her mobile shop; she could pick up and leave right away, if need be. She wasn't even tied down by the law, usually. She glanced back at the parchment. It was a shame, really. The money they'd earn from that contract might have been blood money, but it would have been very good blood money. It would've shortened their efforts considerably, for sure. By the looks of the contract they took, Priscilla's custom cart and her tools were likely six or so salamander hunts away from being a reality. Her companions seemed eager to go hunt salamanders, however, and so Priscilla reread the pamphlet, and figured out where they needed to go. Reading it over wasn't terribly helpful, but at least it named the farm the salamanders could be found near. She turned back to her companions, still eagerly chattering about food. They had good chemistry, she noticed. It was nice, knowing she could rely on them both to look out after another. Their friend had grown quiet and dark some time ago--he was mostly a ghost at this point--but the party still looked lively and eager. Around them, other adventurers were still milling about. Priscilla watched a handful of same-aged young men snatch up one of the lesser contracts quickly. A short figure wearing a tall hat picked up the fence contract and fled with the flier, quickly walking down the street towards the fence. She watched the figure walk out of sight, then snapped out of it. "Okay, if you two want to do some shopping, go right ahead." Priscilla told the duo. She let her gaze drift over to the fence front again. "I'm gonna go check around for a few things, then we'll meet in front of the gates. We'll head out, get rid of the salamanders, and be back right away."
  3. Torie and Aaric caught up, and muscled their way through the small crowd of adventurers to look over the board with them. Priscilla had her own theories on what they should take a shot at first, but wanted them to look things over first, and figure out what appealed to them. Around them, a few laughs were had as the Tigress approached, with her throaty purr and commanding voice slicing through the gentle murr of the crowd. Aaric was noticeably absent, and Priscilla looked around quickly, trying to figure out where he'd gone. She couldn't find him in the milling crowds, and worried that they'd lost him. It was a pretty busy day at the market, certainly. Had he wandered off without them? She continued to look around for him, trying to spot him, while Torie investigated the board. Eventually, the tigress caught her attention, and she stopped looking around, forced to listen. Priscilla reviewed the request...eventually. Once Torie cleared up which one she was pointing at, she caught on a lot faster, but floundered at first. The request did seem a little straightforward, certainly. However, Priscilla supposed that if the work was so easy, someone else would have taken it. How many salamanders were they talking about? Were they actual salamanders, or something else? Priscilla figured it was a fairly neutral job, regardless, and it was unobjectionable, for sure. Priscilla's stifled laughter wasn't aimed at the second comment, but she hoped it would come off like that. It shouldn't have surprised her that the tigress wasn't familiar with the request, but to have her ask about it so loudly was a problem for Priscilla. For one, discussing it in an open air conversation was a very strict taboo--you didn't want to expose a fence, lest they were listening. However, Priscilla didn't have to discuss anything, because Aaric dropped from a rooftop to intervene--startling a middle-aged woman. Priscilla was impressed. Aaric was pretty young--to be familiar with fences and contraband at such a young age was particularly striking, especially given how hard it was for her to learn about the contraband on her own. Also very interesting was how he deferred to her--to 'Chief'--also caught her off guard. She looked at the crowd around her--they were watching, but trying not to--and Priscilla decided then and there to exercise her control a bit--and keep up her charade of a tough pirate, for just a little longer. "We have too much dirty laundry to deal with as is." She replied honestly. Priscilla stepped forward and grabbed a different leaflet--the one on the Salamanders. She passed it to Aaric for him to look over instead, and ignored the Fence paper.
  4. She is not. I'll be giving you until the end of tuesday to post, because I wasn't expecting to work today.
  5. @Garion try to get your post up before Tuesday please. it's the next person down's turn, I think.
  6. Bodice could see. Her eyes, they were still long gone, but she could still see. She saw the room around her, she saw Benjamin on the ground and the manic damage the two had done while writhing and flailing on the ground. She supposed the mindflayer fetus had something to do with this; it was tasting the world around her through the fleshy tentacles that had seeped through the holes in her mind and into reality. She imagined she must have looked horrific; proboscis peeking through where her eyes used to be, spilling out of her mouth like a grotesque beard. Her head was uncomfortably cold and clammy, and she could feel a draft on the top of her head. She didn't need to reach for her head to recognize that her hair was missing now. She'd worry about that later, then. Benjamin had said that. Not the book she was staring at, but the instrument that had delivered it to her. Instead of looking at him, however, she couldn't tear her eyes off the book before her. It was grotesque and macabre; the picture of evil in a number of ways. She reached for it, and felt the flesh that bound its pages together. It still pulsed, as if alive. She had no doubt that, once she opened it, she would spill blood on the pages within. It was disgusting. It was beautiful. << I dare say that neither of us is alright, anymore. >> She didn't say a word. That was her voice, and that was what she was going to say, but her voice never left her throat. Rather, it resonated in the air around them. Nebulous and terrifying, but soothing and sweet. A nightmare of the finest stock and breed. She walked over to him. She didn't even feel the floor beneath her anymore, but she knew it was there. She reached for him to help him up, and helped him to his feet without laying a hand on him. Even more terrifying than her voice, was the fact that she was so disconnected from reality that she could scarcely feel anything anymore. Bodice, in her pursuit of transcendental power, had committed to the power the mindflayer fetus could offer her. It had robbed her, in her efforts to flay Benjamin, of much of her former humanity. The figure there was unmistakably Bodice. But the pallid, cold skin, the lack of body hair anywhere on her person, and the eldritch tendrils poring out of her face, winding down her arms and supporting her as she tried to move around. She was terrifying, but her beauty still laid somewhere in the slowly amassing pile of horrific flesh. The book in her hand throbbed with terrible arcane power. Or did she hold it? Looking at her twice, the tendrils appeared to disappear and reappear, on and off, as if she were trying to hide her actions. For one moment, Bodice was there again. Another moment, she was simply...not.
  7. Fleeing the bar (and the fact that Priscilla probably didn't give the barkeep enough to pay for a new table, on top of all the food they'd ordered), Priscilla dragged her three companions out into the warm sunlight of the afternoon. It was shaping into a rather hot day, and the sun radiating off the pavement was growing intense. Priscilla paused, and felt the warm sun on her face, and the smell of the nearby markets, not to mention the noises and the gentle milling of passerby. Somewhere overhead, the sun was blotted out as a magnificent-looking creature landed elsewhere. It was white as snow, and covered in fluffy feathers, but resembled a dragon more than it did a bird. Other flying beasts were taking off and landing all the time, but their sounds were mostly muted. It was a fantastic element of Vdara. It was a rarity on Genesaris; Priscilla had fond memories of coming here as a child, back before her mother ran off with their wealth. She shepherded the party through the marketplace, back the way she'd come through in the first place. As they were swallowed up by floating banners and merchant stands, the sun was stifled out, and the gentle mulling of the distant crowds became a long, persistent roar. She did her best to keep the party together, and kept them moving forward as she made her way towards the last billboard she saw, somewhere past the crossbow bolts. The market was a bustling hive of exotic and local goods and cuisine, and the smells and sound mingled with the crowd's noise. It was always a treat to get engulfed into the sheer chaos of it all, Priscilla reflected benignly. She loved coming into marketplaces, and seeing the crafts for sale, seeing what unique designs people brought for scrutiny and admiration. She felt a small pang of longing on that reflection, and she buried it by looking beyond the market to the larger buildings close by. Of note, there were a few close by guilds and static shops, where the products for sale didn't change, but had money and investments behind them. Priscilla had neither, and as a result, she wasn't stuck here. Close by, she spied a fairly obvious-looking fence, masquerading as a clothing store. She wasn't a thief herself, but she knew what to look for. There were three subtle markings on the swinging sign labeled 'Ambles'; One long scratch, indicating that there was launderer available, a heart-shaped varnish stain that indicated that they offered hit contracts, and a lock, drawn in charcoal on the sign. That lock meant they sold contraband as well, if you knew what to ask for. Priscilla didn't really have the gold to check it out, however. Otherwise, she might've considered seeing if they had any rare supplies on sale. Also of note was a brewery. Not the mead and ale variety, but a potions and reagents place, from the looks of things. 'The Tattered Cape', they called it. She didn't really think it fit the direction the store wanted to go in, but she wasn't running a business herself, anymore, so she didn't care all that much. Other vendors close by were hawking all sorts of goods, from neat little trinkets and windup tools, made in far-off smithies, to a dye vendor that offered, among other things, clothing and hair dyes. Priscilla felt her hair for a moment, and silently vied for her old hair color back. The purple-haired runesmith was a much better look, than the brown-haired woman who killed things for a living. She looked at the bounty board, and went through them. They had to jockey with dozens of other adventurers, thugs and bounty hunters to read the lists, however. It turned out that there were plenty of jobs to do, and much of them offered pretty good coin. She reviewed what was available in silence. Of note, four requests stood out to her. The first, a request from a nearby village, was penned by an elderly old man looking to make a pilgrimmage. He didn't specify where or why, but was paying a decent wage for adventurers to make sure he got there safely, and without hurting himself. To Priscilla, the job seemed rather easy, and the money wasn't bad. However, this job paid the least of all the jobs on display. Another involved some pretty eerie content. The local guard posted up a request, hoping to get someone to investigate a potential kidnapping ring within the city walls. From the information given, the culprits were secretive and hard to find, but were also merciless when confronted by the guards. To minimize any more murders, the guard had simply relegated the work to foolhardy adventurers. Priscilla had a bad feeling about this particular offer, but the money was quite nice. Someone else, still, was looking for help slaying, or moving, a family of troublesome Salamanders, that had taken residence in a nearby coal mine. That didn't really sound that bad. And, lastly, there was a fence contract. Priscilla recognized it right away. It detailed 'laundry duty', and referred potential takers to the store she'd spied earlier. It promised really good money, too. Priscilla gnawed her lip. It was a good offer, the money on that contract. However, she didn't think she could let the party take that one. It might involve something dangerous, and certainly something criminal.
  8. Posts are up. This is our final stretch; how we approach dealing with the fae will ultimately determine how the Skaven resolve this conflict. Figure out how you want to approach it, and make your argument for it.
  9. Then it is @Garion's turn! Just a refresher of the scenario: There are, currently, three revenants by the far door. This door is closest to the archaeologist and her protectors. There's also another snippy, beheaded bird of prey over there. On the other side of the room, closer to Azytzeen, there's nothing as far as monsters go, but Natalya is likely severely injured. She may need some assistance. I believe that @Thotification is capable of telling us themselves how they think she's doing, however. There's also the other creature that Celestine tossed around. It's closer to the other side of the room, but not so far away that it doesn't pose a threat. Also, Azytzeen can take note of the fact that the lantern tower stokes the fires of his fear as he hears those heavy footsteps. Once again, it calls for him to flee.
  10. Alright my goons, I'll be posting the next set piece tomorrow after work (or perhaps before, if I wake up early!) This new setpiece will feature some minor detail of Vdara, and the markets we pass through, a few places of interest, and a list of the potential bounties we can undertake. You're all free, of course, to discuss what you'd like to participate in. If you'd like to make a detour and grab things, or go shopping for a bit, or perhaps even investigate a building, let me know. We'll adjust the course and take a look at it! I have no qualms about taking our time with this thread; let's be inquisitive and let our imaginations take us somewhere. After all, you're usually in the Dragon Kingdom of Vdara only once or twice in a lifetime. It's worth poking around a bit.
  11. @vielle Did you get your post up? I know you have to post for both you and CSL this round; I just wanted to be sure you are satisfied with what you've done so far.
  12. I believe it is @Hurttoto's turn! Only joking, it is @vielle's turn to post.
  13. She stared down at the rune. Did carving it into the table ease the anxiety she felt? Did it ease the floating runes that plagued her vision? ...Not really. But, it did feel relaxing to look at it. She focused on it for a short while, and tried to come at ease with herself. Easy breaths in, easy breaths out. Priscilla's hand was totally trapped by Torie's paw, and the tigress helped her snap out of her reverie. She took a bit--more than a bit, a minute, even--to try and figure out exactly what the tigress wanted. "W-well!" Priscilla griped a bit, trying to move. "It's a little...little harder than that, actually." She squirmed, and pulled her hand free. Now she had no choice but to talk about it, she supposed. "The way I learned was through my dad," She explained. She put the knife away again. The scars on the table were probably not going to be easy to fill in; Odds are they'd need to leave before the barkeep decided to charge them. "My dad was a runesmith before I was. He was really good at it, too." She continued. She thought about his work, his craft, and the popularity of his shop. They'd never been a big business, but they'd always been popular. "The best, I'd say." She added. "Dad had this strange object that he gave to me when I was little. It was kind of like a telescope, but there were all sorts of runes etched into the lens. There were a lot of them; one after another, like a kaleidoscope. We took it out one night, and he held it to the sky for me to look at the stars through. The runes were burned into my eyes after weeks of doing this, y'see." Now, she had to explain another problem she was having. She gestured towards her eyes. "They're floating around in there, even now. Little scratches in them and stuff like that. I guess, this helped me get really talented at runesmithing, really fast." That was to say, Priscilla had no idea how you'd learn to etch runes without one of those instruments. Priscilla had never run across one since she was little, and her father didn't have any spares. She'd been very lucky, to have learned when she did. "If I had to guess?" She mused. "Maybe, maybe there's a book out there, that can break down how to inscribe them. Or," She added with a rueful sigh, "Maybe I can try to explain it to you, sometime. But we'd need tools, we'd need materials, and we'd need a workshop. I've got none of that, right now." She stared holes into Arric, before looking back at the table she'd scarred up. "My craft is the only part of my father I have left." She replied. "Before everything went wrong, and I ended up...decommissioned, I had my own little shop. It was small and portable, and could be pulled along by pretty much any beast of burden. I was free, I explored the world, and I practiced what I loved. Selling my arts to somebody with money would be like..." She struggled for a comparison. "...it would be like giving up my former life, for a life of service. I've had offers before; I've never taken any of them seriously." She straightened up, and looked at the table. They were all done eating, more or less, and now Priscilla felt it was a good time to stop talking. She produced the last of her coin, and got to her feet. She strutted over to the counter, and handed the barkeep the entirety of it. "Keep the rest of it; for the table, and a nice tip for you and our waitress." She requested politely. She wasn't selling the rogue bandit thing very well anymore. She turned to the party, shrugged, a bit helplessly. "We should be going. We're going to need bounties if we're going to start making progress."
  14. Lars and Vance stumbled out, equally concussed by the landing. It was jarring--every bit as jarring as how Xylex had punched through the roof of Nesthome in order to get airborne in the first place. Lars dropped to his knees, dizzied by the flight. Somewhere, Vance muttered and cursed, completely out of it. Lars tried to keep his senses about him, and eventually got to his feet. His chunk of Entwood was close by--he'd dropped it when he fell over. He picked it back up, and scrutinized it. Though he wouldn't dare declare it out loud, Vance was right about the scrap. It was probably big enough to use as a shield, or a piece of furniture, or even the handle of a weapon. There were probably better uses--uses that he could reap--than turning it into poison. He was secretly glad they'd kept it around. Vance was on his feet as well, and mostly none the worse for wear. They both looked around their little clearing. While they were dizzy, both of them had forgotten to keep track of where the camp was facing. So, Vance spoke up for the both of them. "Where the hell do we go now?" Well, the clearing was quite close to where the fae were holding up. Lars found it right away by looking for lights through the trees, and once it was found, it was rather hard to ignore. The fae had set up crude designs and defenses, standing in harsh contrast with the otherwise wildness of the forest. That wasn't to say they'd used felled trees to build brutal palisades and barricades. Rather, the trees themselves had come to the fae's aid in this hour. Even from here, Lars could see the trees slowly twisting and bending around one another. Weaving walls of heavy, living wood. Lending their branches to build roofs and walkways. It was eerie, but more than anything it made Lars feel uneasy, and a little more unsure of their purpose. Was this actually the way to get things done? They had a fair ways to travel before they'd be anywhere near the fae's hideout, and before they could do that, both Vance and Lars turned to the wolfman. "Okay, we got this far, but we still don't know what we're doing." The merchant whispered urgently. He didn't really have to ask the next question, but did anyway. "How do we get the Fae to leave? What can we possibly do to convince them that we aren't here to hurt them, and that we don't want to help them fight the rats?" "You could always help them defeat the Skaven." Vance offered. "This is their home. They have a right to defend it."
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