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Author Topic: Where only the crazy reside  (Read 9219 times)
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Anaea the Marked
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« on: 23 April 2003, 20:54:00 »

Since I’m bored, and well… lets face it- devilish at heart, >D  I have decided that we don’t have conversations around here like we once did.
I don’t know why, though I suppose if any of my fellow Santharians are like me, you’re finding that RL can really squeeze your free time. So, after succumbing to boredom, I read new threads, old threads, and ancient threads… *sigh*… ah the good ol’ days. Where has all the fun gone? I miss the tavern thread…. I miss.. *Looks around nervously*.. umm maybe it’d be better not to say. :D

But, that said (or not…) - I propose a new thread: (though I’m afraid God only knows what I’m about to write… wait- scratch that, reverse it… no he doesn’t… ;)  )

*ahem*

*several seconds of silence pass*


oh yeah… here it comes


Pretty Picture

The trill of an unseen songbird drifted through the forest, rising sweetly on the honeyed breath of spring’s gentle breeze. With the disappearance the long winter’s snows, the forest had come alive practically overnight. In the quite shade of the budding forest trees, a single darkened building stood- a lone testament to man’s existence on the treacherous slopes of the lofty mountains.

She paused, her lungs bursting and her legs aching from the long upward climb, and gazed at the abandoned tavern. It filled her simultaneously with a series of fond memories of friends and laughter and with a dull sadness at times lost and almost forgotten. With her stereotypical stubbornness, she pushed the ache aside and hefted her pack with sweaty hands, continuing her ascent.

Once in the blessed shade of the budding trees once more, she let the bag she had been carrying drop to the leaf strewn deck with a heavy thump. Wiping the slick sweat from her forehead with the back of her dirty hand, she regarded the door, with its rusted hinges and lock, her lips pursing as she contemplated the best method of opening the said door. After a careful search of the innards of her pack proved that she had, in fact, forgotten to grab her trusty sledge hammer; she found herself at a standstill.

She wrinkled her nose. What she would give at this moment for a minute of Xarl’s magical powers or maybe even Drogo’s strength…. Wait a second… was she not the same Amazon that kicked that same barbarian’s butt? After that, the rusted lock never stood a chance. Though, in fairness’ sake- it was very rusted and gave way to her boot easily.

Picking up her bag and hefting it over her shoulder, she tentatively peeked inside. Despite that it was rather dark and smelled a bit like moldy beer and candle wax, she deemed it to be at least still inhabitable. She sidestepped overturned tables and chairs, making her way to the bar carefully while her eyes adjusted. Suddenly, a dusty glass that had been left on a table toppled to the floor. She dropped her bag and turned immediately in the direction of the sound. Her bravery was instantly dissolved, however, when the source of the disruption proved to be a very large rat. She squealed and jumped atop a nearby chair, almost sending the poor piece of furniture crashing to the floor in her haste. She watched the filthy beast with wary eyes until it disappeared into the closet, which she promptly slammed shut and locked.

Crisis over, she laughed to herself and mentally sent up a prayer to Ava that the others weren’t present for her show of cowardliness - she’d never live it down if, say, Capher had seen.

Five hours later, the tavern was dirt and cobweb free, with the tables in their proper places and chairs in their upright positions once more. She surveyed her handiwork, pleased with the result. One eyebrow raised. Oh yeah… with a snap of her fingers, barrels of ale suddenly appeared behind the counter- along with candles on every table and fresh clean glasses lining the shelves. She frowned. Something was missing….

With another snap a large burly man was abruptly present. He looked around, his eyes wide with amazement. When they came to her, they widened even more. “Where am I?” He asked.

She cocked her head. “A tavern.”

“Why?”

“Because you work here.”

“I do?”

“Yes.”

Several seconds of silence passed as he took those facts in. “What do I do?” he asked.

“You’re the bartender.”

“Oh.” He looked around the place again. “Then I suppose I should be getting work, eh?”

She only nodded and motioned to the now-clean counter. He stood up and slowly walked over to it, his big hands caressing the worn wood. Picking up a clean towel, he busied himself by polishing the glasses. Satisfied, she settled herself at a nearby table, propping her booted feet up on another chair. Suddenly, the bartender looked up at her. “Um… excuse me, lady-“ he blushed. “But do I have a name?”

She thought about this. “Walter.”

“My name’s Walter?”

She nodded, feeling tired. She wasn’t used to all this snapping.

“Well then,” he said, looking considerably brighter and more intelligent. “What’ll it be?”

“A beer please Walter.”

“Coming right up, missy.”

While Walter got her beer and adjusted himself to his new identity, she repositioned herself so that she could see out the door.

Anaea waited. She knew they’d been here soon….

"If you gave me a choice between a Northern man, a Northern woman, or a Northern rat - I'd have to pick the rat..."


Anaea- on the north in general


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Viresse
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« Reply #1 on: 24 April 2003, 00:43:00 »

Viresse strode through the forest at a good pace, her elven knowledge for the Woods allowed her to pick a clear and quick path through the myriad of Urban and Eur'oak that crowded the area like a festive dwarven drinking party.

Suddenly, she stopped in her tracks, as a dark shape seemed to loom before her. Her first thought was of a Dragon. But Dragons weren't real... or so it went. Viresse took a few steps forward and saw the protrusion of eaves, and then the natural-looking chimney that seemed to belch a small but friendly plume of smoke.

" Odd." Said she. It had been a while since she had visited a tavern, especially such a cozily secluded one such as this. Viresse hoped it wasn't hostile. She didn't need a fight right now... nor ever. But not always did Seyella work in her favor.

She continued onto the planked deck- she really relished the sound the warped old wood made as her bare feet padded across it- and made her way to the door. The door stuck quaintly in the doorjamb, but with a gentle but firm tug Viresse swung the door open and slipped inside.

To her surprise there was a friendly but burly bartender wiping down the glasses, and a woman that seemed vaguely familar. Viresse smiled absently and stepped toward her, still keeping a comfortable distance.

" This is your establishment?" She queried, and then looked to the tender. " If you please, Tender, Aohu'o ale..." She looked back to the tanned and strong woman. Suddenly Viresse's old mind took to gears and a flicker in her brain awakened old memories...

"Anaea? I daresay... It's been a good, long while. I'd though about you from time to time since you've been gone- And quite nice to see you here in such a cozy place." She stepped a bit forward, and held out her hand in hope for a shake.


*pokey de Viresse at viresse@santharia.com* - Adventures of Sorren Administrator
The Santharian Dream - Home sweet Home...

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Aylix Goth
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« Reply #2 on: 24 April 2003, 14:36:00 »

Jason, a tall-ish auburn haired youth of about 18 strolled, through the woods leisurely, Spirit floating above him above the trees on a warm current.

The docile creatures of the wood were out in force, all tame, approaching Jason curiously and then darting away again. The atmosphere was serene... Jason felt comfortable here... the only thing he wanted was company... company that he could talk to...

One of the Gods must have read his mind...

He came to a small clearing and there sat a tavern... it looked recently refurbished... no more than a few hours ago... well hopefully it should serve some food... and maybe there are some people in there.

He smiled and whistled for Spirit, the tame creatures of the forest bolting at the noise and the sudden screech of the hawk.

"Shh mate." he chided gently... "you'll scare the bunnies away... then you'll get no food later." He laughed good humouredly... he would actually let Spirit eat the rabbits.

He walked slowly up the steps to the door... the wood creaking under his feet as Spirit fluttered onto his shoulder.

He walked in... two people were here already... he had seen them round... but hadnt actively spoke to them... well not with this mind anyways...

He ordered an ale from the bartender... and approached the two women nervously...

"er... Viresse and..." he searched his mind for the name... "Anaea is it?" He smiled... "heya... you might not recognize me... but its me... Aylix." He smiled and Spirit cooed lightly.

Edited by: Aylix Goth  at: 4/23/03 9:37:39 pm
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Viresse
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« Reply #3 on: 24 April 2003, 17:37:00 »

She looked over to the fellow with the Bird, and furrowed her brows. She was oddly uncomfortable.
Once the lad began to explain himself, and said he was Aylix, she nodded sagely.

" Well, Aylix, you should have come in as such! You had me a touch confused there. Had I come in as mine own self, I'm tad sure you all would NOT wish to speak to me. "
She smirked knowingly.


*pokey de Viresse at viresse@santharia.com* - Adventures of Sorren Administrator
The Santharian Dream - Home sweet Home...

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Xarl
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« Reply #4 on: 24 April 2003, 18:38:00 »

You know, this is the sort of trick that gets old reeeeeally fast.
"Yeah, but I like it."

The tavern's lanterns were pretty normal-looking, besides the one that was swaying a bit.
Oh yes... then there was the pillar of flame pouring down from one of them that was quickly forming into a staff-holding man.
"Magic: 5% warping reality, 10% willpower, and 90% showmanship. Yo, peeples. Warren, my man, you know how to make a Ximaxian Wakeup? No?"
*scribble scribble*
"You do now. Thanks. So, what's goin' on?"

Xarl Bluestride, Archmage of the White Tower, Elder of the Magic Forum, Master of RP Sorcery and generally cool guy. All requests are to be written on the back of a ten-dollar bill (or equivelant thereof) placed on a gilded hemmhoroid, and tossed in the sewer system.
Xarl Bluestride
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When life gives you lemons, you clone those lemons. And make super-lemons.
No Longer Master of the Magic Forum, but still basically dominate the place. All bribes to xarl@santharia.com

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Dala Valannia
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« Reply #5 on: 24 April 2003, 20:16:00 »

"By Armeros's bellybutton lint!!" she yelled angrily, causing a flock of birds to flock away in disapproval at the ungodly noise made, before plopping down onto a grassy knoll to catch her breath.

Looking at the tattered map she held in her hand (bought from a dwarf of suspicious repute), she squinted at the faded etchings for the thousandth time but the markings were blurred and she couldn't see clearly anything at all.

"Holey fishscales on Baveras's pet squid, I'm going blind!" Dala yelped again with panic. Then, belatedly, she realised she had forgotten to lower her spectacles perched on the top of her head.

Adjusting the wondrous instrument down to the bridge of her nose, the blurred dotted lines on the map sprang to immediate clarity.

"Ah, much better...now, where the heck am I??"

Looking around, all the historian could spy was trees, trees, trees, more trees and a Lucky Ganesh Quik-E-Mart in the distance. No tavern whatsoever. Not one in sight. Nada, zilch, zero.

She had followed the map's direction carefully but instead of bringing her to the tavern that Anaea had said, it led her to the most forsaken place imaginable in Santharia or ex-Sorren or Caeltheron or Cal'Aerian or the Fantasy World that is Currently having a Serious Identity Crisis.

With much resigned dismay, Dalá Valannía accepted the fact that she was misplaced, off-course, mislaid, gone astray, adrift. In other words, she was L.O.S.T.

"Stupid map!" In a fit of annoyance, Dalá got ready to tear the offending piece of parchment into teeny, weeny pieces when she suddenly stopped. She peered at it with renewed intensity.

Then she turned the map upside down.

"Oh @#%$." she muttered.  

Edited by: Dala Valannia at: 4/24/03 3:17:29 am
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Anaea the Marked
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« Reply #6 on: 24 April 2003, 20:29:00 »

Ana grinned up at Vir and Aylix before jumping up and hugging both till they protested for air. Motioning to empty chairs at her table, she couldn’t help but grin again. “By the gods its good to see you again!” she said, her notorious accent strangely missing. “You don’t know how long I’ve wished to be in present company again,” she said, returning to her own chair and taking a gulp from her glass. Suddenly, her eyes narrowed and she motioned for the others to lean in closer. “Whatever you do,” she said, in a loud stage whisper, “Don’t open the closet.” At their shocked expressions, she only nodded and patted their hands. “Trust me on that one.”

She vaguely wondered if she was drunk already. Surely one glass wouldn’t make her tipsy… would it?

She pushed the thought from her mind. “Eh, Walter!” she called to the bartender. “Drinks for my friends!”

“Aye dearie,” he said, picking up two new glasses. “And what’ll you two be havin’?” He asked the newcomers pleasantly. However, before they could answer him, a flash of light from the deck suddenly made the dim room burst with gilded light. Walter nearly dropped the glass he was holding. “By gods, what on earth was that?”

Ana looked up from her drink and regarded the open door. She cocked her head, listening. “Xarl,” she stated matter-of-factly. “No one else I know that talks to themselves.”

"If you gave me a choice between a Northern man, a Northern woman, or a Northern rat - I'd have to pick the rat..."


Anaea- on the north in general


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Silfer Darkflare
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« Reply #7 on: 25 April 2003, 03:31:00 »

My awakening was strange. I did recall having a tad much to drink the night before, but I most certainly did go to sleep in a room. Not in a forest. However, reality wanted otherwise. I was in a forest, and that was a fact.

"Where are you now, Silfer, and what wretched soul has put you here?", I mutered, recalling enemies possible to have done so... no, doens't make a tad of sence.

Rising, getting my body (without the slightest hangover, how strange) up and running, I had a good look around. The sun was shining, but the forest was dence. "Like the granther's tales of the dark-kin elves...", I sighed. But well, wondering about this is no use, I might as well try to find an exit of this forest... or the one who put me here... and boy when I do! The poor soul will curse the day his mother met his father.

Relaxing, shifting my car'all to see what was in this forest, and where the exit might be... Dence forest, no exit... but wait! Humans... an elf... a Drow, to be exact... Xarl! Xarl is here?! "If this is one of your tricks, Xarl dear..."

Finishing sencing, I knew where he was. Grabbing my staff (Where did it come from? It was not here when I awoke...), I started to walk towards the gathering of people I senced.

Suddenly walking out of the dence forest, a strange sight: A tavern, right in the middle of it. Oookaaay... A tavern. In the middle of the forest? Ow well. Might as well go inside, since Xarl sure is there, if I know anyhting of sencing.

Walking inside the tavern, I immediatly spotted Xarl. hard not to, h is the only one with blu skin, a fancy staff and that kind of car'all. But there were more people...

A boy with a bird... A name came to mind... Aylix. Or Eh-lix. Or any other variation.

Anaea... Viresse... I do know who they are, but have I met them? "Your hangover might still be present, Silfer", I thought for myself. Knowing nothing lse to do, I stepped into the light: "Greetings... Xarl! Is this forest and tavern a bloody trick of yours? Where am I?"


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Anaea the Marked
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« Reply #8 on: 25 April 2003, 08:40:00 »

:rollin

Dala too funny.... i sputtered my coffee :lol

"If you gave me a choice between a Northern man, a Northern woman, or a Northern rat - I'd have to pick the rat..."
Anaea- on the north in general


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Lucirina Telor Vevan
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« Reply #9 on: 25 April 2003, 14:40:00 »

The frail sound of a flute filled the calm air under the trees as the soft rustling of a pair of bare feet on the forest ground followed by a loud shriek

"Coór damn those flunkies!!!"

A limping elf appears from behind the trees, muttering curses under her breath, the long chesnut hair falling over her shoulders and back.
She looks around and then down to her foot, bowing down and pulling some flunki quills from her foot.

"Maybe boots would be a good idea... maybe."

She looks around and notices something...she is lost...
Shrugging slightly at this fact she continues walking, it was not like she was heading somewhere special.. she actually found every place she went to be somewhere special, always new and interesting things to see and do.
But the flunkies annoyed the hell out of her... they always seemed to decide to sleep just where she was going to walk, whoever created them should be tortured slowly until they died... or maybe just horribly maimed.

She spotted a small building not too far away and decided to head there, her foot was going to be no good for atleast a few hours.
As she limped toward the building she heard loud cursing and turned around only to face Dala stomping her way toward the duilding, that upon opening the door appeared to be a tavern.
Lucirina made way for the woman before limping into the room where a odd blue skinned fellow just appeared in a pilar of flame, most impressive.
She limped over the a empty table and sat dow, still muttering and cursing about the flunki quills she still had imbedded in her foot.


From sunrise to sundown I live my life as a song.
Listen to the songbird, don't ignore it.

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Aylix Goth
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« Reply #10 on: 25 April 2003, 15:59:00 »

(ooc lol meant to actually use an actual account I have for Jason Alexandar but forgot to switch. Dala... ROFLMAO!
note to self... stay AWAY from Luci seeing as I made the Flunkies :p )


Jason smiled at Viresse. "I've seen your picture around Viresse, if you came as your own self, I woulda been here a lot quicker." he laughed and winked.

He looked towards the door as a flashy pillar of flame poured from the taverns laterns. He looked to the other patrons and rolled his eyes, with a heavy over exageration "Xarl." he muttered and laughed again.

He turned back to face Anaea as he had the air forced from him by a hug that could have crushed a Dragon's hide. As she released him he gasped for air nursing his ribs and sat at the seat she motioned to.

He smiled as he listened to her, and nodded in agreement as Anaea fondly mentioned the company they were in.

“Whatever you do,” she said, in a loud stage whisper, which took him slightly by surprise. “Don’t open the closet.” Jason regarded her oddly but she only nodded and patted their hands. “Trust me on that one.”
He had already made up his mind to open it later... when the tavern filled slightly though... more would be on their way... he knew that... Santharian's couldnt resist a social gathering.

He grinned broadly as he thought deviously of a way to get to the closet, as the barman who Anaea called Walter, came over and asked what drinks they would like. "An ale for me Walty my good man." Jason grinned rogueishly. "You dont mind if I call you Walty do you?"

He took a sip of his drink as he heard another enter. "Silfer." Jason thought to himself as the Elf asked Xarl whether this tavern and forest was of his humorous devise and Jason laughed into his ale as another Elf entered, female this time muttering something about Flunkie quills.

Jason looked up curiously to see Lucirina and he looked around nervously. He could have sworn he had had something to do with Flunkies being in this region... maybe he had had one as a pet and it escaped... he did his best to look calm and concentrated on his drink.

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Viresse
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« Reply #11 on: 26 April 2003, 01:07:00 »

She took a seat with Anaea, and took a long sip of Aohu'o ale. She smiled happily at the amber-colored lager and nodded happily.
" I really must thank Greybark for this. I don't have a fondness for beer, but this... is heaven!"
She squirmed in her chair a bit as Silfer arrived- while still in a Jhellerhim body, Silfer had met her elsehwere under Guise of a Drow... somethign she felt far more comfortable in, and hoped to become when time permitted it (People Entry, Vir!).

The startling flame to one side of the Tavern caused her to become quite uneasy, but once the flame took on the bluish form of the Archmage (one she had only HEARD of, mind you) she calmed a little.

She looked back to Anaea and smirked.
"Do we know when the others will arrive? I'd love to see Talia or Arti..." She let her mind drift off a moment to Dala, and certain discussions they'd had about the Compendium Master...
She snapped back to reality and watched more come to the Tavern hidden in the woods.


*pokey de Viresse at viresse@santharia.com* - Adventures of Sorren Administrator
The Santharian Dream - Home sweet Home...

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Artimidor Federkiel
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« Reply #12 on: 26 April 2003, 01:11:00 »

The old man groans.

Once again he unties his backpack, drops it to the floor, then sits on it for a while. The whole lot of philosophical books in there made at least a good chair, no doubt about that. May some of the opinions of the sages and scholars written in these tomes be questionable or even ridiculous, at least they served very well for confronting one's rear part with them so to say... Stupid Amalegon!, he thought, As if his theory of contagious pre-metaphysicism on the post-santhrosian area would lure a single avenor cat from its caught fish!

Well, he definitely needed a rest.

Artimidor looked up, watching the sun's rays penetrating the treetops and sheding a strange light on the mossy ground near him.

Hmmm, old one..., he muttered to himself. Drawing maps in your sparetime doesn't prevent you from using them, you know? He tries to look at himself questioningly, but for some strange reason this interesting endeavour fails miserably. So why didn't you take it with you then, huh?

Just a moment ago he thought that he saw the gorgeous Dalá in the midst of the woods. Artimidor remembered that only recently she had been model for the good old Faugar (whether it had been for this year's issue of "The Great Santhalian Pinup Calendar" or for a Compendium entry he didn't exactly know). Anyway, the housedragon appeared to have been there, but now seemed to have flown away. She sure would have happened to have a map with better directions on where to find this lousy tavern!

He cursed vehemently, well maybe not that vehemently, cause it surely didn't really offended the flunkies around as he heard none complaining.

By the tomcat of Minich, Artimidor wails. And who of our developers for the Twelve Gods sake created these gigantic mountains there without proper licence from the Santharian HQ to construct them! Even the Tandala are peanuts compared to these monstrosities! He frowns at the soft green hills in front of him. And who was responsible to put a tavern on a mountain peak in the middle of nowhere and lure harmless sages up there? A passer-by flunky obviously also doesn't have an answer, as in order to not get insulted any further it quickly hids in a nearby hole.


The Santharian Dream Webmaster - Let Fantasy Dreams come true!
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Edited by: Artimidor Federkiel at: 4/25/03 8:12:55 am
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Dala Valannia
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« Reply #13 on: 26 April 2003, 01:26:00 »

With the problem of the map satisfactorily solved, Dalá made her way merrily towards the direction of the tavern, happily anticipating meeting all her Santharian compadres. Yes, even Xarl. He of the politically incorrect dead ferrets.

She strode with purpose, while sipping the root beer flavored Slurpee that she bought from the Quik-E-Mart, and wondered...well, she wasn't sure what she wondered. Short-term memory loss. Very terrible.

Good Slurpee though, she did manage to think before a dark shadow passed slinked across her path, blocking her effectively and she had to halt to a screeching stop.

"Hello, little girl." The shadow grinned, revealing rows of sharp teeth. (Yeah, it was a wolf. What did you expect?? Koldar in a leopard print G-sting?)

"Take a hike, you misogynist, sexist canine beast. I'm not little and I'm not a girl. I am woman, hear me ROAR!"

"No no, hear me out! I'm a Good Wolf and my name is Project-Based Entries!"

"Your name is what?!"

"Yes, indeed! I am a bad physical analogical manifestation  for the recent worries and doubts about (Insert Your Vote for New World Name Here)'s shift towards project-centered work," the wolf explained.

"I think you smoked one too many weedsticks when you were a wee cub."

"I am here to assure you that project-based work has it advantages although it might seem restrictive to some initally. However, do not despair yet! For I am sure any members who have a great idea for an entry that does not fit into any of the projects can still be considered on a case to case basis! Afterall as the Great Sage, who looks like a delicious morsel by the way, told us before, this world doesn't belong to him but to all of us!! Therefore, fear not, little ones! Let loose your inner fantasy child and CREATE AS BEFORE!!!" The bad physical analogical manifestation ended on a swelling triumphant note.

"Yeah I knew that already, what's your point? And cut the crappy trumpets! I can't think with all that stupid noise." Dalá said, tapping one foot and the trio of trumpeteers obligingly disappeared as they had magically appeared.

"Oh you did?" The wolf who was not really a wolf said with some disappointment. "Well, okay, I guess I'll have to eat you now."

It opened its maw wide and licked its chops with an evil leer as it advanced towards our short-sighted but plucky heroine.

"Oh sweet crossed-eyed Queprur...go away, shoo," she said and waved the hand holding the map at the not-wolf negliently.

In an instance, it snapped the map from her fingers and ate the parchment up with relish.

"Hey, I paid good money for that map! Okay, buster, you ask for it!" Saying so, Dalá threw her half-finished Slurpee cup at Project-Based Entries who will now be known hence as PBE for convenience's sake.

PBE howled with anguish as the root beer slushy ice hit it and smoke started pouring out from its fur.

'Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh, no! Not ROOT BEER FLAVOURED.....gag, gag, urgh, urgh dying sounds...." PBE cried out with great horror as it started to melt into a tasteless puddle.

"....." it said at last and died.

"Finally! This post was getting waaaay too long." Dalá rolled her eyes. Anaea, Viresse and the rest might be having the conga line started by now and she didn't want to miss that! Or opening the closet door either. Especially not the closet door. Or Art doing the....never mind.

"Now, where's that tavern again...?" She looked around for the helpful map that would lead her to the tavern.

And realised the map had been eaten by the late but not lamented PBE.

"Oh @#%$," she muttered.

Edited by: Dala Valannia at: 4/25/03 8:49:54 am
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Rayne (Alýr)
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« Reply #14 on: 26 April 2003, 01:40:00 »

Beams of sunlight struck the earth through rough openings in the canopy of the forest, and as the wind blew, they danced as lively as gypsies across the leafy ground. Small feet trudged through the forest, through the fallen leaves, belonging to a little elven girl, her wavy indigo-colored hair up in a teal bow, though some strands fell out anyway.

Though tired, the little elf seemed determined to get to wherever she was going, which, by the look of it, was nowhere in particular.

A small, slightly fluffy cat sat on her shoulder. It's eyes, a violet color, showed it to be a Ximax cat. Its fur was shades of grayish blue, dark gray, black, and specks of white.

The little elf huffed and puffed as she made her way along. Her large, child-like eyes lifted, revealing them to be colored a bright cerulean. She could see the tavern in the distance and stopped, blinking as her lungs drew in hard breaths of air. She saw people going in. Nodding determinedly, she squatted on the ground, allowing the cat to jump off her shoulder to face her.

"Ok now, Doodles." The cat rolled his eyes- he hated that name. Though he knew it to be one of the dangers of having a young owner, he still thought it was absolutely ridiculous- almost as ridiculous as the little elf appeared talking to a cat. "We must be on our best behavior so that we can make friends. Ok?"

The cat nodded.

"All right, then." The little elf smiled and the cat boarded her shoulder again. She walked towards the tavern and slowly pushed open the door, peering shyly and curiously into the tavern. Nervosity filled her chest when she saw all those inside to be quite a bit older than she. She stood at the door, peering through the ajaredness at the people inside, trying to gain the courage to enter.

Logged

"There is much misjudgment in the world. Now, I knew you for a unicorn when I first saw you, and I know that I am your friend. Yet you take me for a clown, or a clod, or a betrayer, and so I must be if you see me so. The magic on you is only magic and will vanish as soon as you are free, but the enchantment of error that you put on me I must wear forever in your eyes. We are not always what we seem..." -Schmendrick the Magician, The Last Unicorn
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