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Old October 31, 2010, 07:19 PM   #1 (permalink)
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Wynd is a glorious SuperheroWynd is a glorious SuperheroWynd is a glorious Superhero

Hunter's Moon Darkening - "And the tombstone came to be while I was miles out at sea"

Autumn - 31 Junctior, Era XVII in the POST-FRACTUM

The Mouse and the Mask was water-bound. Nephele Beach was flooded up to the rock cliffs where dozens of bonfires burned, where boats docked ferrying back and forth between the M&M, where dozens of Secyclion's youth danced dressed in feathers and bones, withered roots and dry corals, in witches' hats and adjurators' robes. The same scene on the docks around the submerged M&M, while a bard sung old ballads of hauntings in quiet Arium villages.

In Neos Megalis, the streets had flooded and turned to canals. Gondola drivers kept pumpkin lanterns as they ferried costumed Mainlanders and Secyclions who were down in the new city to celebrate Selhaim, a festival mostly imported to the city from the Mainlanders who had come to call Neos Megalis home. Shop fronts were doling out candied fruits and sweetmeats to children. At the Nexus, Psamathe had dragged a half-dozen of the drowneds' corpses and skeletons from the bay, and enchanted them to dance -- among the bleached bones and rags of ancient sailors was the mauled and half-digested body of the girl who had once been Andromeda. Robarthes wore an orc-mask and one over-sized claw made out of leather and bones, leaving him to pour drinks, take shots, and smoke all with one hand.

"What are you?" asked Bowery from behind a skull-mask as he stumbled in from the restaurant above, jangling with animal bones.

"Agar, scourge of Narim!"

"Any specials tonight?"

"All you can drink for your soul."

There were cloaked and hooded men and women, children in the visages of their favourite spirits and murderers, and the lower city was alight with lanterns, bonfires, gourds, candies, and festivity.

The only thing that troubled anyone was the haunting fullness and orange glow of Majora, the first moon, in the sky, and the fiery patterns it played on the see. It was the Hunter's Moon -- though the Kalendryan society had said that Secyclion would not see that night when even the pirates kept ashore, when the waters were dread for Hunter prowled for another four days. Old Secyclionians looked to the sky and knew that that the society had been wrong, or that there had been an error in their predictions' announcement.

The youth on the Main or on the cliffs above Nephele Beach laughed it off. What was Hunter's Moon to them but some silly local legend?

The screams and howls that every now and then echoed from a few cliffs down, or around the corner in the NM canals, were dismissed as Selhaim tricks, practical jokes, storytellers' flairs. But under the surface swam Hunter, who had come for his harvest.
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Old October 31, 2010, 10:33 PM   #2 (permalink)
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Hazudar is a famous HeroHazudar is a famous HeroHazudar is a famous Hero

"Deal, Rob," a low growl emerged from the throat of a strange, bulky old human, bundled in cloak and vaguely military looking armor and sprawled upon one of the nearby stools. Closer inspection, however, as well as certain olfactory cues would reveal that this gent was in fact, Hazudar T. Half-orc, in the guise of his fave bogeyman: the notoriously kill-happy Imperial mage-tyrant-swordsman.

"'Course, bein' a Royal and all, I ain't got no soul to begin wit'. RAWR! Dis province looks like a good place ter make a stand in da name o' stability! Mages at da ready! Let's turn dis Nexus place into anuver Narim!" the orc intoned spookily, brandishing a bloody sword in one gauntleted claw and a copy of the Articles of Imperium in another. Or some version of them, given that the first three articles had nothing to do with life, liberty or happiness, but rather read: 1) Kill. 2) Kill... and so forth, in a crimson scribbly script.

"Clearly insubordination! I hereby execute yas in concordance with Articles 13 through 666!" the faux-fiend babbled on, but as ever, was rudely interrupted by some overly mouthy anarchist:

"Nice costume, Haz! I mean, and with the bloodstains and the stolen outfit and all! You even managed to make it look like ya really tore some guy's face off and tied it on! How'd you do that?"

For an interminable period, Hazudar said nothing, merely staring at the questioner through the shadowy eyeholes in his dead skin mask.

"Where's me rum an' punkin juice, Robar! Ain'tcha got no respect fer a hardworkin' government lackey?" he snapped finally. But Hunter's moon still hung low in the sky, the night was yet young, and nothing helps the ouzo go down in a most delightful way like a dozen or so brats' worth of stolen candy. Tossing back his drink in a go, the orc wiped the rubbery pale lips of his scary human-mask, then eased back from the bar.

"In th' name of Aslan! An' my posh estate! Time ter go tax-collectin'!" the Lt. Governor of Secyclion declared, his outer face stretching into a terrible hollow sneer, yellow fangs grinning where sparkly-white teeth ought to have shone... and soon enough, was out the door.
The world is my oyster!

Last edited by Hazudar; October 31, 2010 at 11:33 PM.
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Old November 6, 2010, 06:37 AM   #3 (permalink)
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Grot is a benevolent Adventurer

It had been an epic struggle, the kind of battle legends are made of, had there been any bards to witness the fight it could very likely have spawned a thousand epic tales and songs to etch it into the memory of history. Such a hunt it had been, for days Grot had stalked the beast from island to island deep inside the archipelago that was Eunesia. Far from civilization, Grot had pitted himself one on over versus one of the most vicious beast to ever walk the sun drenched shores of the Eunesian isles. At one point as he followed his prey's path of destruction, the giant had been reduced to gnawing on wood and swallowing rocks to calm the pangs of his stomach having gone days without eating in pursuit of his prey. Finally after what seemed like an eternity chasing the beast he'd caught up to his cunning prey on a large island two hundred leagues south of Secyclion.

For the moment he was walking through the streets of Secyclion wearing the skin of his prey as a sign of respect for a worthy adversary...yet another conquest dedicated to Rak. All around him the Secyclids were dressed in odd attire, nothing like they usually did, surely his short trip out of the city hadn't caused him to miss some sudden change in fashion....and why was that man dressed like a bottle of Ouzo? No matter, that some stared in awe at his magnificent form and others giggled drunkenly was nothing to be concerned about. Today he needed to celebrate his victory over the beast; he'd head to the Nexus, meet up with that ever amusing Hazudar and drink while regaling the orc and the pitiful thinling patrons of his glorious battle with the beast of the isle.

The memories of the hunt were fresh in Grot's mind as he stomped his way through the streets of Neos Megalis. After days of tracking the beast, watching as he devastated island after island in his endless consumption of food, Grot had finally discovered the beast’s favourite meal. Spending half a day painstakingly disguising Stumpy to resemble the plant the beast desired. He'd then spent the next two days hidden in tall grass and brush near the top of a hill unmoving as he held Stumpy in place to lure in his prey. It had been rough, the slightest noise and the beast’s massive ears would be tipped off to his presence, and so he lay unmoving, making no noise until finally the monster came to take the bait. In an instant the hill was alive with the sound of battle. Long, sharp teeth capable of taking a limb in a bite flashed a hair's breadth from Grot's powerful form as he fended off massive paws capable of crushing stone to powder with a single blow. The beast was taller than even the alabaster skinned titan and larger to boot. For two whole brightening's giant and beast clashed on the island, neither giving ground, neither relenting. Grot bled from a dozen wounds and the beast laboured to breath with cracked ribs before the two paused momentarily. For a brief moment their eyes met as if both Giant and beast were saluting each other's prowess in battle while deciding the next exchange would decide it.

Both he and the beast had roared loudly, their cries causing the very island to shake with fear as they began their final charge. At the last second, as the beasts massive, bone crushing paw slammed towards his exposed side, Grot finally landed a clean blow with Stumpy to the beast’s gigantic skull even as he was knocked aside by oncoming paw. His blow had knocked the beast's balance off just in time however and the blow was softened allowing him to recover quickly enough to follow up with a finishing blow. Skinning the great beast and feasting on its flesh as he travelled home to Secyclion, Grot had stitched the beast's fur into a suit he could wear in triumph on his victory march to the Nexus.

Beneath the hunters moon a hunter had come back victorious. Banging on the wall of the Nexus, Grot bellowed in his usual way for barkeeper to roll out the booze. No sooner had he began to make his order however than Hazudar himself walked out of the Nexus a crude mask that looks suspiciously like another manlings face plastered roughly on top of his own. "Oy... that you Haz?" the giant asked questioningly as he stood back up to his full height, the bright moonlight illuminating fully for the half orc the epic nature of the giant's outfit. Stumpy, strapped to his customary spot on Grot's back was covered in an orange paste of some sort, a number of large palm leaves strapped to the thicker end. Meanwhile Grot himself was covered head to toe in a thick fur, great long ears sticking straight out from the top of his fur clad head, one angled lopsidedly halfway up it's impressive form. With a glance it was obvious what Grot had tracked and killed, it was unmistakable to any who knew of the legendary monster.

Grot was wearing the skin of the Great Carnivorous Pink Rabbit of Eunesia, and what a sight it was.

Secrets :

"And I heard as it were the noise of thunder/
One of the four beasts saying come and see and I saw/
And behold a white horse"
Condensed for your entertainment New player guide
Thanks go to Haz for the companionship

Trinity is SUPER awesome.
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Old December 14, 2010, 03:30 AM   #4 (permalink)
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Wynd is a glorious SuperheroWynd is a glorious SuperheroWynd is a glorious Superhero

A pretty little thing who had made her way down onto this shabby corner of the Main sat on the dock of the store next to the Nexus and the seafood restaurant, bawling her eyes out. It was a common incongruency on Selhaim in Secyclion: a skanked up goddess Diana, tiara, wings, short skirt, and pearl-string bra making up the whole of her outfit, curled up against a wall weeping, her cosmetics streaming over her face and her hands. There was no cause for Grot or Hazudar to pay her any attention except for the hand and bloody forearm she was holding onto as she muttered, "Where did he go, where did he go?"

When she laid eyes on the two, the Lt. Governor and the giant pink bunny she wailed, "Help him! Help him! You have to help him! One minute we were just sitting on the dock and the next this-- this-- this MONSTER came out and snatched him in its jaws and I tried to hold on and I held on as long as I could and THIS HAPPENED!" she wailed, waving the bloody forearm of her boyfriend around.

If they were to peer over the dock and into the water they would notice, in the lamplight reflections on the murky water, bits of human and blood floating on the surface, and an otherwise total stillness. But if they were to continue to stare at the deep they would notice a tremble in the surface, and suddenly something burst out-- Psamathe, resident Nexus nereid.

"You should've seen it," she said, "You both really would've loved it. I mean, that Hunter can eat a man faster than either of you could shank him."

Meanwhile she emerged out of the water dragging behind her a couple more bodies for her dancing collection downstairs. One of them happened to include a petrified old sailor's skeleton proudly holding the still-living head that had just come into its clutches. His neck still bled, his eyes bulged hugely, his mouth a bloody agape gash as his mind reeled in its last minute of sheer animal pain and torture, confused, before life finally left it for Psamathe's false animation.

The girl took one look at the head and screamed and screamed and screamed until she tore off what little clothes she had, all of them dirty and bloodstained, in a fit of hysteria and plunged into the canal, never to be seen again.
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