Vanya Mia's Ship of the Silver Void Campaign
After healing his wounds Ash slowly stands up. "That hurt, find better way next time." He returns Darick's grin and watches him work. "Why hug tree it no help you. What you want to learn?"
Re: Vanya Mia's Ship of the Silver Void Campaign
((Another round of issues hit attendance so we postponed. We'll pick up outside the temple door again next time.))
Re: Vanya Mia's Ship of the Silver Void Campaign
((OOC note: I recently found this out, and thought some of you might be interested in a read. http://www.wizards.com/dnd/DnD_PS_Comic.asp ))
Re: Vanya Mia's Ship of the Silver Void Campaign
((Thanks Valas. Now get to posting. 
On a side note, I know the board looks strange, but I think it's because this style wasn't updated to the latest version of the board's software. I found a thread detailing how to update the styles manually and will be working on that later. Until then, enjoy the new look. ))
Darick stood at ease behind the giant stone table as the hooded woman strolled into the room. He hung his hands on his belt, his dagger within easy reach though he hoped he wouldn't have to use it because this woman looked very dangerous. He looked at the others, particularly his and his companions' patron to judge their reactions to this strange woman. He didn't like what he saw in their faces...
On a side note, I know the board looks strange, but I think it's because this style wasn't updated to the latest version of the board's software. I found a thread detailing how to update the styles manually and will be working on that later. Until then, enjoy the new look. ))Darick stood at ease behind the giant stone table as the hooded woman strolled into the room. He hung his hands on his belt, his dagger within easy reach though he hoped he wouldn't have to use it because this woman looked very dangerous. He looked at the others, particularly his and his companions' patron to judge their reactions to this strange woman. He didn't like what he saw in their faces...
Re: Vanya Mia's Ship of the Silver Void Campaign
Devram was nervous, though no one had seemed to notice save for Darick, and he didn't make a big issue of it.
The farmer thought back to how he'd felt when the magic had coursed through him, during the attack on the tower. It was almost as though he'd been a different person. One confident instead of afraid, powerful instead of weak. The sensation when he'd blasted those cultists...
It scared him. But there was a part of him who looked forward to the next time.
The farmer thought back to how he'd felt when the magic had coursed through him, during the attack on the tower. It was almost as though he'd been a different person. One confident instead of afraid, powerful instead of weak. The sensation when he'd blasted those cultists...
It scared him. But there was a part of him who looked forward to the next time.
Re: Vanya Mia's Ship of the Silver Void Campaign
The path is unclear;
Two steps forward, one aside.
A night progresses.
Chiun Wei Zhi put down the brush and studied the words. They were satisfactory. He dipped the brush into a small bowl of water, which instantly turned cloudy and black from the ink. The monk fastidiously cleaned the bristles, then dried it on his shirt and slipped it into a pocket sewn inside the breast.
He rose from the woven mat, careful to keep the eagerness in his mind from betraying itself in his movements. That would not be appropriate. Turning, he bowed, deeply and respectfully, to the other two men in the room. They returned the gesture. If they cast judgment on his chosen course, they would not betray it now.
Chiun turned and bowed to the hut's only window. Outside, the sun was making its way toward the horizon, its dark orange rim just above the snowdrifts outside.
Finally, he turned and bowed to the portrait of the Sensei on the wall. The face was, of course, inscrutable--it was only a piece of art, after all--but after years of reading the Sensei's teachings, Chiun was confident enough in his understanding of them to act.
Simply put, Chiun believed that the Sensei wrote of Enlightenment not simply as a state of mind to be attained, but as a physical place to be reached. So much of his teaching fit into this model, right down to the Order's emphasis on physical strength and self-defense. After all, if Enlightenment were simply a state of mind reached through meditation, as was commonly interpreted, what did the physical self matter? What need was there for combat? What if the journey was more than a metaphor? All of these clues were pieces of a puzzle, a puzzle Chiun was certain he had finally solved.
It was time to put the last piece in place.
Chiun took his staff from its place in the corner of the tent. He gave the smallest of smiles to his two companions. He placed his free hand on the pocket containing the brush--the key--and with a smooth stride that belied his years, he stepped quickly through the window at the exact moment that the sun's rim touched the horizon.
His foot landed not on the crunchy snow outside his hut, but in a puddle of some warm, pale, and unpleasantly chunky substance. His senses were simultaneously assaulted on all fronts: the din of voices shouting to be heard over a hideous racket that some might call music; a smell of sweat, sex, and food in various stages of digestion, so heavy on the air that it crawled down the back of his throat and onto his tongue; the rapidly cooling puddle his foot stood in, which trailed out of the mouth of an unidentified humanoid that lay face down in a stupor, its rump in the air for convenient use as an armrest by its drinking companion. Finally, Chiun's eyes took in the cacophony of the scene, bodies of all races milling about the dark, smoky interior of the building.
Taking it all in, Chiun looked behind him. The wooden wall was smooth and featureless. There was no sign of the portal he had passed through.
He turned back to the room.
"This...will be enlightening."
Two steps forward, one aside.
A night progresses.
Chiun Wei Zhi put down the brush and studied the words. They were satisfactory. He dipped the brush into a small bowl of water, which instantly turned cloudy and black from the ink. The monk fastidiously cleaned the bristles, then dried it on his shirt and slipped it into a pocket sewn inside the breast.
He rose from the woven mat, careful to keep the eagerness in his mind from betraying itself in his movements. That would not be appropriate. Turning, he bowed, deeply and respectfully, to the other two men in the room. They returned the gesture. If they cast judgment on his chosen course, they would not betray it now.
Chiun turned and bowed to the hut's only window. Outside, the sun was making its way toward the horizon, its dark orange rim just above the snowdrifts outside.
Finally, he turned and bowed to the portrait of the Sensei on the wall. The face was, of course, inscrutable--it was only a piece of art, after all--but after years of reading the Sensei's teachings, Chiun was confident enough in his understanding of them to act.
Simply put, Chiun believed that the Sensei wrote of Enlightenment not simply as a state of mind to be attained, but as a physical place to be reached. So much of his teaching fit into this model, right down to the Order's emphasis on physical strength and self-defense. After all, if Enlightenment were simply a state of mind reached through meditation, as was commonly interpreted, what did the physical self matter? What need was there for combat? What if the journey was more than a metaphor? All of these clues were pieces of a puzzle, a puzzle Chiun was certain he had finally solved.
It was time to put the last piece in place.
Chiun took his staff from its place in the corner of the tent. He gave the smallest of smiles to his two companions. He placed his free hand on the pocket containing the brush--the key--and with a smooth stride that belied his years, he stepped quickly through the window at the exact moment that the sun's rim touched the horizon.
His foot landed not on the crunchy snow outside his hut, but in a puddle of some warm, pale, and unpleasantly chunky substance. His senses were simultaneously assaulted on all fronts: the din of voices shouting to be heard over a hideous racket that some might call music; a smell of sweat, sex, and food in various stages of digestion, so heavy on the air that it crawled down the back of his throat and onto his tongue; the rapidly cooling puddle his foot stood in, which trailed out of the mouth of an unidentified humanoid that lay face down in a stupor, its rump in the air for convenient use as an armrest by its drinking companion. Finally, Chiun's eyes took in the cacophony of the scene, bodies of all races milling about the dark, smoky interior of the building.
Taking it all in, Chiun looked behind him. The wooden wall was smooth and featureless. There was no sign of the portal he had passed through.
He turned back to the room.
"This...will be enlightening."
Re: Vanya Mia's Ship of the Silver Void Campaign
((Sorry for the late notice, but I won't be by tonight. Catch y'all next week.))
Re: Vanya Mia's Ship of the Silver Void Campaign
Ash waves hello to the newcomer at the door be fore being distracted yet again by the strange animal mixed creatures in front of him. He shakes his head as he mutters, "not cat maybe dog.....no wolf...... and bird......prey."
Re: Vanya Mia's Ship of the Silver Void Campaign
Thinking furiously, Zaine stashes the swords deeper into his gear hoping none of the ex-dead ... ponders something to label them with... whatever, ex-deaders will see them. He definitely knew he would have to take over negotiating contracts in the future as the brain dead Dev had no sense for haggling. *mutters to himself* ..and TEN.