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Author Topic: Where only the crazy reside  (Read 9217 times)
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Silfer Darkflare
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« Reply #15 on: 26 April 2003, 02:15:00 »

LOL @ Art's "who made those mountains... and Dala... you're the best.


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Anaea the Marked
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« Reply #16 on: 26 April 2003, 11:06:00 »

OOC: Dala are you TRYING to make me fall off my chair? Good lord, that was hilarious :lol   and art, OH ART! I didn’t make the mountains… merely put the tavern on the very tippy top. Wouldn’t want regular (fill in the blank) just wandering in here no would we? ;)   *smirks and slinks off to her post*

---------------------------

Mean while, back in the tavern: (cheesy 60’s batman music) (Holy Hotcakes Batman!)(…Shut up Robin)

“NOOOO!” Ana jumped up from her chair, knocking the poor piece of furniture to the floor, and jumped several others in her desperate dash to stop the advancing catastrophe. Walter froze, his hand mere inches… erm… mere… Nailsbreadths away from the closet doorknob. He stared at the crazy woman approaching him at top speed with an expression much like that of a scared deer in headlights. Throwing herself between him and the wooden door Ana mentally congratulated herself getting there in time- the result had she not could have been cataclysmic- Suddenly, the sounds of fire and screaming souls filled the air from somewhere above the ceiling as a booming voice spoke: and fire woulde raine downe from the heavens as the earthe splits and blackens… Oh! The soules of men will tremble and flee before the eternale blaze of Helle! Then, the Sins of men will clap their broade wings high above the fires, and sail rejoicing in the floode of Death!

From inside the closet and cough could be heard, then a deep scratchy voice. “Really, dear,” the voice said. “I think that was a touch too dramatic. Don’t you agree?” It coughed again. “And that last bit sounded suspiciously like William Blake. Cheater.”

Walter, regaining motion once again, blinked at the panting woman as she threw herself theatrically across the door. “What in blazes are you doing?”

She struggled to catch her breath. “Must… keep… door… closed… at… all… times…” she managed to spit out, ignoring the voice from within.

“Why on earth not?” he asked. “There’s supplies in there I need!”

“Why not?” she repeated, looking taken aback. “Why not!” She grabbed him by the shirt and continued her rant. “Because there’s a rat the size of dragon in there!”

The voice in the closet coughed again. “Don’t you think that’s a big of an exaggeration? I mean seriously, if I was as big as a dragon, I doubt I would even fit in this tiny closet.”

She clung to Walter’s shirt desperately. “If we let him out, he could kill us all and eat us for breakfast! Or maybe just an evening snack!”

Walter, looking a bit frightened- though not of the aspect of a killer rat- gently removed her hands from his shirt. “Um… I think you’ve had too much to drink m’dear. Maybe you should go back and sit with your friends.”

“She’s a terrible lightweight,” the voice in the closet said, matter-of-factly. “Only one drink and look- she’s already hysterical.”


"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


Edited by: Anaea the Marked at: 4/26/03 12:56:34 am
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Xarl
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« Reply #17 on: 26 April 2003, 17:49:00 »

The phrase "Siggy Come True" rattled around inside Xarl's head for a minute, occasionally bashing loose such thoughts as Note to self: have Silfer killed for calling me a Drow. Pointy-eared piece of crap...

Xarl sighed. "Can I not be in a scene for fifteen seconds without it becoming a madhouse? Well, world," he continued, now talking to the ceiling, "You aren't going to win this one! I am not going to-" Xarl noticed he was walking towards the closet. "-get involved. I am going to sit back, enjoy my drink, and-" His staff rose in his hands, pointing at the door. "-stay completely out of this one!"
And, naturally, with that he blasted the door off of its hinges.
"Damn plot-advancement-transducer," he muttered as a furry mass rolled out. He rushed over to the groaning lump of hair.
* * *
In an alternate dimension of which none present knew anything, three people spoke.
"Rob Zombie?"
"Coisin It?"
"Cher?" the blue-jumpsuited guy asked.
"Yeah. Cher." the porcine crimson one whispered.
* * *
Completely unaware of any of that, Xarl looked quizzically at the fuzzball and asked the only question that could possibly come to mind.
"Drogo?"

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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Viresse
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« Reply #18 on: 26 April 2003, 18:18:00 »

Her tall ears perked up at mention of the swoonable Barbarian.
"Who?"
She stood up abruptly, knocking over her chair.
"Where!?"
She moved as quick as one who was EXTREMELY eager and yet trying not to show it could. She leaned over the bar and peered at the floor. She let out a shriek and stared at the rat.
" Drogo?! What has Army Intelligence done to you?!"
She paused for a second, thinking of how much of a contradiction that was. She shook her head and let it pass, as she realized it was just a rat the size of a Cat.
She was about to shrug the cat-rat off, when she rethought the situation and did a double take, then quickly scurried back to the table she was earlier seated at.
She picked up her chair, setting it upright.
Leaped on top of it.
Bent down to retrieve her aohu'o ale.
Then proceeded to look aloof and calm while sipping on her ale.


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Artimidor Federkiel
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« Reply #19 on: 30 April 2003, 13:25:00 »

Arrtimidor progressed at slow pace. He had finally tied a rope around his backpack and was now pulling it up the gigantic endless mountain slope in front of him when suddenly a little something became visible at this mountain peak, just in the midst of the glacier's eternal ice (well, could as well be that Artimidor was pretty occupied with his burden and didn't see that well...) But anyway, there it was, this tiny hut, and various voices came from it, and he could have sworn to hve heard someone shout "Drogo", a voice which reminded him of Viresse.

Well, let's investigate, he thought, and continued pulling the backpack up the hill...


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World Development Admin - The Forum where Worlds are born...

Edited by: Artimidor Federkiel at: 4/29/03 9:12:17 pm
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Lucirina Telor Vevan
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« Reply #20 on: 30 April 2003, 20:04:00 »

Lucirina overheard someone screaming about keeping the closet closed because a giant rat was locked inside it and tilted her head to see what all the fuzz was about.
She spotted and strange woman holding onto a even stranger little man discussing if they should unleash the anger of a dragonsized rat upon the patrons of the tavern.
The elf tilted her head and scratced it with the tip of her flute.

"Someone has had a tad too much to drink.. or are they serving that cacti as a refreshment again?"

She muttered to herself, remembering the horrible, horrible dream she had last time she had actually been brave enough to eat some of the green and spongy plant. She had dreamt that someone called Aylix Goth had danced for her clad in nothing but a ridiculosly tiny tiger striped G-string. Unfortunatly for her the dream had been keeping repeating itself every time she got drunk so she had made an oath to always stay sober.
She looked at the blueskinned man walking after something that looked quite much like a fuzzy football and asking it something that to her ears sounded quite much like "Druggie."
And then another odd character walked over to the fuzzball and said something about what has arms and intelligence been doing to you or something like that.
There was something odd mixed in the drinks and foods of this place, she was taking no risks. She pushed the tray with pickles and olives as far away from her as posible before looking around the tavern once more and to her horror spot the one that did that dance to her sitting not more trhan two tables away and giving her what she thought looked like a quite leecherous look.
Ok.. he was fully clothed... but she knew that the G-string of death was hiding under that armour and maybe he was just waiting for the right moment to jump on top of her table and once more dance the dance of the wild hips.
Maybe flunkies had some kind of hallusinogen in their quills, but if that was the case why were everybody in the room acting so oddly.
She looked at the plate of pickled things once more.
Yes, definitly hallusinogene cacti in the pickles.

"What the heck... I may as well enjoy it... BARTENDER!
Ruin-n-Desolation for me... and please... get me a more solid table, this one wouldn't hold the weight of Aylix."

She leaned back in her chair and picked up a piece of what could well be only a pickled cucumber.. but also could be the aforementioned hallusinogen cacti.. and popped it in her mouth before chewing and swallowing it.
This was going to be one very interesting night.


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

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Rayne (Alýr)
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« Reply #21 on: 30 April 2003, 22:15:00 »

Amoungst all the confusion, as startling as it was, Rayne found the chance to slip into the tavern without much fuss. By now her Ximax cat was held in her arms in a child-like way with the cats lower body drapped over her front, making her seem even young than she already was. Meanwhile, "Doodles" has his violet eyes in a steady glare, finding the manner in which he was being held to utterly strip him of his dignity. He was only glad that few were watching.

The little elf scuttled to a table and sat her kitty on the table before climbing up on of the chairs to sit in. She looked about at the others in the tavern, all of whom seemed to be amused with one another in some fanciful way and Rayne sunk down in her chair. Making friends was harder than she thought. Her cerulean eyes shifted to her kitty, who was looking out over the crowd, his tail wipping the air. He stood more confidently than she.

Rayne rested her head in her arms, half her face hidden in the sleeves of her robe whilst she watched with a nonchalant interest at the others.

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"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
Dala Valannia
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« Reply #22 on: 30 April 2003, 22:52:00 »

(Many hours later)

When she arrived at the same rock in the same path for the hundredth time, Dala finally concluded that she had been walking around in a circle. Why it took her so long to realise that after the hundredth time, well, our intrepid heroine may be smart, but not that smart...and the root beer Slurpee she drank previously was causing a brainfreeze.

"Fu*bleep*ng mountain! Whose *bleep* bright idea was it to build a *bleep bleep* tavern on top of a *bleeping* mountain?!" she wondered, incidentally echoing the very same sentiment expressed by a certain sage, a few posties ago, only less graphically.

(Note : bleep denotes self-imposed censorship in consideration for the delicate sensibilities of members here and also adds to the overall artistic presentation of the *bleep* paragraph)

Dala was bleeping still when she suddenly overheard the sounds of someone singing. She perked up in an instant. Someone who might know the way to the tavern!

She followed the singing through dense trees where it opened up into a mountain clearing. There, she finally saw the person who was warbling almost like Julie Andrews.

The hills aaaaaare aaaaalive!
With the Sound of Muuuuusic!!


Etherus lapdancing on a hotstick! It WAS Julie Andrews! Ah, that explained a lot of things. Dala always kinda suspected that all of Santharia's (Eh, Caelereth she meant) mountain taverns were in Austria...

"Hey Jules! You know the way to Anaea's tavern?" she yelled.

Julie stopped singing, while the Captain and his Seven Children started bashing each other with guitars in the background behind in an apparent post-Sound of Music psychotic rage, and trilled merrily, "I'm not Julie Andrews! I'm the Muse of Commenting on Forum Boards!"

At this point, Dala just knew she had wandered onto the set of a Frederico Fellini movie. Any moment, Faugar in a top hat was going to pass by her, chained to a flying bed, and painting headless cats on black canvases.

"Oh yes dear, I inspire comments for entries posted to forums!" The Muse of Commenting on Forum Boards, or MCFB, said grandly. "What do you have to comment about that then?"

"..." Dala said.

"Eh, what's that? I can't hear you."

"..." Dala repeated.

"You mean you have no comments to make? Nonewhatsoever?"

"..." Dala murmured.

"You have read the entries posted on the board, haven't you?!" MCFB got more agitated until she looked ready to implode.

"..." Dala admitted.

"You haven't? You had no time?! You didn't understand what some of the entries were talking about?! What is WRONG with you?! You wicked, wicked child!!!" MCPB reeled in horrified anguish. "How could you?? Those entries were painstakingly and lovingly created by each and every member of Santharia...um, Caelereth I mean, the least you could do is go read SOME of them and comment and commend them for their efforts!!! Oh, you WICKED chiiiiiild!!!!"

MCFB shrieked, her throat muscles throbbing as she hit the high note and she did explode then and there in a fiery combustion.

As bits of muse splattered upon her, Dala squeaked with disgust and she ducked for cover behind one of the Von Trapp children, Fritz, or maybe it was Heidi. It gets confusing after awhile with so many rugrats in lederhosens running about.

When the coast was clear, she stepped out again and surveyed the damage. And realised that she never did find out from the MCFB before she exploded where the tavern was.

"Oh @#%$," she muttered.

(To be continued?)

Edited by: Dala Valannia at: 4/30/03 8:22:35 am
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Silfer Darkflare
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« Reply #23 on: 01 May 2003, 03:48:00 »

*OOC: Dala, Anaea WILL fall out of her chair if you continue this.... I nearly did! *

Well, being in this tavern for ten minutes, and it is already a madhouse... I sighed. But that was before Xarl blasted the closet. Now, we all had a giant rat to deal with... AKA Drogo. Inn-tresting. Ow well, might as well enjoy oneself while one can... "Bartender! A glass of wine, pelase!" I shouted, to be heard over all the noise.

After getting my drink, I sat down next to Aylix. Taking a ipe out of my pocket, filling it and lighting it up with a smal flame, hand made by Magic Users Inc (c), AKA Ximaxian mages. Poking Aylix, I bent down and whispered: "Do you see Luci over there? She is drnking... she just MIGHT become dangerous when she drinks... so stay away form her, if you have your life and dignity dear. And btw, what news on the RPG board novadays? I havent been there in years."

 


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Aylix Goth
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« Reply #24 on: 01 May 2003, 11:55:00 »

Jason/pseudo Aylix looks up at the mention of his name... Ack it was Luci... maybe she had caught on that the afformentioned Flunkies were a creature of his...

He caught the end of what she said to the barkeeper, "get me a more solid table, this one wouldn't hold the weight of Aylix."

And he looked extremely curious at to what she meant.

He took another sip of his drink and was about to go up to Luci to see what the heck she meant when Silfer sat down beside him.
Pseudo Aylix felt a poke in his side and leaned towards Silfer as he whispered.
"Do you see Luci over there?" He asked inclining his head. "She is drinking... she just MIGHT become dangerous when she drinks... so stay away form her, if you have your life and dignity dear." Jason recoiled slightly in horrer remebering what happened last time he had got drunk in the presence of Luci... He still had that g-string even though he had told himself thousands of times to burn the dammed thing...
"And btw, what news on the RPG board nowadays? I havent been there in years." Silfer asked.

Jason/Aylix turned back to Silfer. I havent been all that active on the RP board to be honest. Though it seems that Sorren... err... I mean Caelereth... seems to be safe after that Armegeddon plot fell on its face.And it seems that Nyermersys has gotten busy lately."
He laughed, "sadly there seems to be a lack of troublemakers though." Jason frowns. "It was fun when we could shout at spammers."
"Oh and my old pet sig had to be locked away after some new law was passed... aparently it was getting long and unruly."

He stood.... "will you excuse me for a moment?" he says and walks over to Luci and sits down opposite her.

Jaylix looked rather embaressed.... he wondered if she remember about the G-string episode... or whether she jus shrugged it off as a dream... "Hey..." he said nervously.

(go me 500th post ^_^)

                                           
     
       

~*Aylix Firehawk*~
         ~*My Journal*~

     
   
     
   
                             
     
   
     
   
     
       
   

Edited by: Aylix Goth  at: 4/30/03 10:34:54 pm
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Anaea the Marked
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« Reply #25 on: 01 May 2003, 16:04:00 »

“Drogo?” the rat asked. It searched its memory… “Ah yes, tall chap- big barbarian. I remember him… almost squashed my tale once.” The rat shook its furry body and jumped into the air.

Ana shrieked and made a wild grab for Walter as a large lump of fur flew by her and landed gracefully on the nearest tabletop. Ana felt paralyzed with fear, while beside her- Walter hmphed and mumbled something crude before pushing her aside and entering the closet. On the table, the rat sat up on its horrible rodent hind-legs and blinked several times before settling its gaze on her. “Its so bright out here,” it commented, squinting up at her. “Eh,” it huffed when she didn’t answer. “Didn’t your mother every teach you its not nice to stare?”

Ana seemed to shake out of her stupor. “You’re bigger then before,” she stated stupidly.

The rat, which was now about a half-ped tall, nodded as it idly watched Walter re-emerge from closet carrying several sacks.

“And you couldn’t talk before.”

It glanced up at her briefly. “Noticed that eh?” It snorted and began to pat down its furry body. “Took you long enough.” It squinted back up at her. “Didn’t you find it odd that I was talking when I was in the closet?”

“I…” she stumbled verbally, staring at the rat who was still searching its body. “I… I… I was distraught,” She finally managed with a firm nod of her head. “Besides” she said, “I could’ve been delusional…” she broke off with a frown. “Are you looking for something?”

It looked up at her blankly for a second before continuing its search. “As a matter of fact, I am.”

“Anything I can help you with?”

“My glasses,” it said. “I seem to have misplaced my glasses.”

“Your glasses,” she repeated dubiously.

It scowled up at her irritably. “Yes my glasses.”

She sat down in the nearest seat with a thud. “And why do you need glasses?” she asked, rubbing her temple and sighing.

“To see of course,” it said. “Very bad vision you know.”

“Uh huh…” Ana mentally counted back and tried to remember how many drinks she had consumed. Not many.

“Ah ha!” it practically squealed with joy as it produced a tiny pair of spectacles from the mass of brown fur. It settled them on its pointy nose and secured the wires behind its ears. “Much better,” it said adjusting their position, significantly more cheerful then before. “Now then, what were we chatting about again?”



"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


Edited by: Anaea the Marked at: 4/30/03 11:08:21 pm
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Viresse
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« Reply #26 on: 01 May 2003, 18:46:00 »

Watching the scene unravel before her like a loose ball of cuncu sheep yarn, she couldn't help but smirk. Anaea seemed intrigued with the rat- who seemed to gain human intelligence and motor ability in a matter of moments. She stepped down from her chair and wandered over to Anaea and the Rat.

"Well, he's kinda cute- like a civilized possum. Wait.Do we have opossum in Sorr-er.... Caelereth?" She shrugged and turned to address the Rat. "Nevertheless... do you have a name, or do folks call you Rat?"

She pulled up a chair and sat down, watchign the Rat with interest.


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Artimidor Federkiel
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« Reply #27 on: 03 May 2003, 12:19:00 »

As Artimidor entered the inn there was already a lot of commotion. An illustrous group had gathered including cat and rat (hey, this rhymes!), even the legendary Xarl had made it in here - probably to unleash his strange who-knows-what-they-are companions and/or let everyone disappear in a) a timegate b) a black hole c) an Armageddonish explosion d) an undefined something (choose one option). No demon ducks around yet, though, but this violet Ximaxian cat on the table and the rat seemed to compensate the loss (?).

Artimidor greeted in the round, and also the rat who looked at him with questioning eyes, and who just appeared to have talked to some of the guests. He looked a bit absent-minded at it, then sat down at the table near Doodles, which he patted on the head to receive a reassuring purr. Then - in order to make sure that he was just hallucinating - he dragged an enormous tome out of his backpack, bearing the name "The Santharian Bestiary" subtitled "Part I of the Santharian Compendium".  He searched a while under the letter "R", where there was a lot of information on rats and their kind, but somehow the talking rat wasn't mentioned at all. He looked irritated at Rayne, the Bestiary Mistress, who happened to sit just right there near Doodles.

Hmmmm... Artimidor looked again at the rat, which now was obviously talking to Viresse. Ok, he said to himself. Good that I know now that I'm only hallucinating. Having this confirmed for himself, he tried something else: Looking at the wall and see if he could make another animal appear as he had just done with this rat... Hmmm... How about an elk with blue fur?


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"Between the mind that plans and the hands that build there must be a mediator, and this must be the heart." -- Maria (Metropolis)
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« Reply #28 on: 03 May 2003, 15:54:00 »

The situation was bad... well, let's face it, it was hopeless. Faugar couldnt, or rather wouldnt want to remember last time he found himself in such an embarassing situation.
"It's HER fault again, I bet it is", he mumbled softly, and scratched his head with his right hand.
"The tall hat isn't so bad, even though it's blue, and that's definitely not my color, but how on earth did I end up like this? Chained to a flying bed!"
Faugar has been thinking about how he got there, all the way up the mountian, when he was drifting slowly, just above the treetops.
"I must have been drugged, and then tricked to paint some portrait, and of course, I wasnt able to perform intoxicated, so whoever commissioned it, muct have taken revenge... hm.. Xarl seemed happy about HIS, and the others didnt complain either.. I have no idea." He looked again at his attempt - a headless body of a cat, painted on black canvas.
"Artimidor didnt mind when I portraied him as a rabbit, but whom did I want to ridicule, painting as a cat? I wish I had time to finish the head before,.. THIS happened." he sighed in despair.
On his way to the top, he saw Artimidor, dragging a heavy backpack, reminding him of Sizifus.. then later on, Faugar has witnessed a strangest conversation between Dala, and some odd looking wolf creature.. He didnt see what happened to either of them, as the flying bed was impossible to steer. He just tried desperately to look somewhat dignified, though it seemed an impossible task, considering the circumstances.
Fortunately, he hasnt been spotted by anyone... yet.
But now, the journey had ended: the floating bed reached the top of the mountain, and stopped right above the roof of a tavern, that seemed full of partying people. "Now, if only I could find a way to quietly free my left hand from the chain, and come down unnoticed, I might spare myself from the humiliation... oh no! I see someone approaching! And I doubt I'll stay unnoticed this time.."
Faugar thought in despair, wiping off the sweat off his forehead...  


       
     
  Only         when you awake, will you know you fell asleep..          
   

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John Silvercryst
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« Reply #29 on: 19 May 2003, 12:54:00 »

Lumping along slowly, John has  his head buried writing one of his horrible and discusting poems. As he walks along, he notices somthing flying by in the air. Poor Faugar, wearing a blue tall hat, chained to a flying bed..., well, it didn't seem all that bad, considering. Ging back to writing his poems, John makes a little notation *Faugar is going to either a) give Dala a stern talking to or b) Faugar is going to be our entertainment over at the tavern. Wandering along aimlessly, he passes the rsident housedragon.

"Hello Dra...Dala. How are you this fine morning? Care to join me in my wanderings? Hopefully, we'll find somthing entertaining to do."

Waiting for a suitable answer, John goes and closes his book, postponing inflicting the world with more of the evil po

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