Post/Author/DateTime	Post
Naeregon Vulpus 04-29-04, 01:00 AM	Membership is invitation only. But if you feel you have been overlooked state your reasoning and we may consider your appeal. Until then I exhort all amongst you to resist the inflamed rhetoric of certain recently arived hosts of upper planes. Their kind always talk big before leaving their allies to twist in the wind. The The registrar. (http://boards1.wizards.com/showthread.php?s=&postid=3251831#post3251831) Guild Type:.......... Terrorist Cell. Guild Master:........Naeregon Vulpus Powerlevel:..........47 Prerequisites:.......Invitation, Any Evil, Extra worldly power (spell casting or similar), a certain distinctive style. Purpose:............. A select group (some might call it a cabal) of gifted individuals who have gathered not to commit low crimes for piddling monies, but to reach for the gleaming star above all else-total control of Gladius. Possible tactics include, but are not limited to, Manipulation, sabotage, intimidation, and Terror. Allies/Foes:.........Celestial forces (enemy), Grym Mordib (Aku only!) Members:.............4 (Bilo Darkleaf (13), Bruno Wilikens(13), Aku (12) Toreilison Wevlun(9))
Guild Master 04-29-04, 11:00 AM	Important Notes and News:
Naeregon Vulpus 04-30-04, 12:10 AM	News of intrest to all freedom loving, and independent minded members of our fair community. The illustrious, shapeshifting master Aku has seen fit to join our...discussions. I am sure the views and suggestions he has to offer can only serve to better our peaceful protests of injustice.
Magagumo 05-02-04, 01:24 PM	*We turn towards the stage: A small, red armchair sits before a softly crackling fire, its merrily dancing flames illuminate a study with their warm, enveloping light. Around the well-appointed room, sit collections of dusty old tomes, discarded sheaths of papyrus, and entrancing ancient bronze sculptures of unseen worlds. The room appears in disarray, but radiates the feel of an absent-minded, but kind-hearted, sage's quarters. Within the chair, basking in the hearth's comforting embrace, sits an aging gnome, puffing a cedarwood pipe as he and a red-tailed hawk pour over a large volume. As if hearing you come in, he looks up with a sigh and a smile, closing the book with a gentle *whump*. He rests his small, spotted hands upon the cover, obscuring most of the title "Boo le ness"* Why hello there ,*he reaches up to adjust his bifocals that rest upon his gnomish nose* I don't think I heard you come in. Sit down! Sit down! *he gestures to a carpetted floor, and the scrying sensor moves and tilts appropriately*. Now, I know you've just arrived here in our delightful town... I can't seem to recall it's name, but I'm sure it will return to this age-addled brain *he smiles slightly at his own comment*. Anyways, I wanted to tell you about a very big issue that's arising in our town. You see, some what's-his-bucket took into his head that our way of life was threatened by the fights in the Arena, suggested that the less "savory" characters that made up the tiers were likely to "rape and burn Gladius" if they ever got the chance *smile fades to a frown*. Now i know, I know, those are fairly harsh words to be using against our bretheren, it smacks of predestination, racism, and even echoes of the old "Fate" discussion. Personally, I have no hard feelings toward our fellow man, orc, or kobold *raises a hand* That's right, you heard me correctly, I have nothing but good feelings for Auki Auk and Vic, despite thier race. But, there seem to be other groups, I would call them vigilantes, who have taken it into their heads to mercilessly persecute and assault these poor fellows. *Leans forward, small hands clenching in a hint of anger and frustration* Why, they've even gotten Brackin, a sterling paragon of half-orcish might and dignity, to assault the poor troglodyte that had just come to town. *Leans back, tilting his head in rememberance*. Well, don't you worry about Brackin, Mr. Darkleaf and I were so troubled by the event that we sat him down and talked with him, but he seemed so racked from personal guilt, that we could only help but feel sorry for him. *waves his hand* Those two had already worked out their difference, don't you worry. :) But as I was saying, I just wanted to warn you about some of these groups. Not all are bad, those Extraordinary Ladies are quite charming and kind, especially to an old gnome *smiles*, and the rest are similarly harmless. However, watch out for that "Celestial Forces" group, they're the worst of the bunch: Bigotry and malice rules their hearts, causing them to view every non-humanoid as a threat and a danger. They even spread horrible slander against the fine upstanding citizens of this town, calling Mr. Bilo Darkleaf, a "foul, murdering imp," and labeling me with the terrible moniker of the "Bone Master!" *Single tear rolls down his wrinkled cheek* Now I know that the people of this town do not believe such horrible things about us, but it tears my soul to know that anyone could hate me that much... it's unbearable *lip twitches, as he forces a mournful frown back into the semblence of a smile, tears still careening from his eyes*. But we've got to be strong, we have to help our misguided bretheren exactly how an organization dedicated to goodness and freedom should operate. Perhaps if we turn the other cheek, they will come to realize the harm they have done? Then we will have no more Brackins, hunted down like animals by misguided individuals seeking revenge for a feud that has gone on too long. We will have no more Toreilisson Wevluns, driven from the comforts of her inn to be shot down in the street by a decieved elf. And we will have no more Jindls and Kiris, whose forest home was savagely destroyed by the Celestial Organization striving to murder another fine citizens. So rise up, make your stand against these bigoted fascists, and help this town become the best place for everyone to live in!! *Pauses, and gives a knowing, paternal wink* I have faith in you. Scene Fades
SnarkHunter 05-13-04, 09:43 PM	The Committee’s headquarters bears no flag. No coat of arms. No sign of any sort that is more then accounting agency that is advertised on the front window. Despite earnest proclamations of good intention, secrecy is a way of life to its shadowy members. But for those in the know….contact is possible. Bilo Darkleaf, perhaps the most hated hafling to ever walk this green earth, is in the know. A courier arrives late one afternoon to Stamos and Son’s accounting firm. He carries an unremarkable box wrapped in brown paper with him. It’s 2ft by 2ft by 3, and quite light, though the contents don’t shift as its holder moves. Stamos Sr. is halfway through signing for it when he notices a small sigil inscribed on the return address. He stops and licks his lips before quickly finishing his signature and tipping the courier. After the man has left, He closes up, drops the window blinds and presses a small button underneath the counter. There is no click, no sudden shifting of a wall, nothing to betray a sign of opening. But with confidence Stamos goes to the store room door and pulls it open. Where once old filedrawers and extra pencils were nestled in peace a long dark stairway no yawns into darkness. Stamos Sr. swallows, adjusts his tie, and walks down the stairs. He holds a torch in one hand and the box in the other. The staircase winds down and down and down, growing cooler and moister. Once, Stamos slips on something wet and almost goes tumbling down the rest of the way to a painful end of broken limbs or necks. But he does not regaining control at the last moment. Though he dropped the torch his grip is deathly firm on the box. Dropping that would mean an end far worse then a slip on the stairs. For a moment it feels like something moved inside…but its quiet now. Finally he comes to a large oaken door. Beyond human sight he is yet aware that protections of a terribly nature cover every inch of its surface. They will recognize him. He is bound to its owner as it is bound to the stone. Gambling debts. He knocks and by the second rap the door is already opening. The room is spacious. Much larger then it appears as it is lit only by a single white light in its very center. 100ft distant Naeregon Vulpus is scribing a letter at his desk. He looks up slowly, his eyes moving from Stamos to the box and then back to Stamos. A smile flickers across his lips. It does not reach his eyes. They never do. With one perfectly formed, black-gloved finger he gestures to Stamos to enter, he does but stops at another signal from Naeregon at the center of the light. Naeregon’s finger points down and Stamos carefully sets the box on the floor. He turns to leave but Naeregon shakes his head slightly and Stamos stops. Standing above the box the accountent swallows again and adjusts his tie. Naeregon begins to mutter something…not quite intelligible but vile nonetheless. A black finger traces a long spiral in the air and red runes begin to appear around the human , accompanied by a distinct sulfurous smell. The fiend nods and Stamos start’s carefully removing the brown wrapping paper. As the last of it falls away the box is revealed to be made wholly of mithral, and covered in glowing white runes-celestial in origin it appears. All of them seem to scream of warning, of the danger contained within, and every fiber of the accountants soul begs him to flee from it, begs him not to mar their delicate symmetry. Naeregon nods. Reaching into his pocket Stamos pulls out a small simple knife and cuts a shallow gash in his right palm. With only a moments hesitation he moves his hand above the mithral chest. A single drop of blood falls upon a minor rune and the box lurches towards him. The case stops short and doesn’t move. But Stamos stays panting on the floor for a moment, until Naeregon narrows his eyes. Stamos sits up again, leaving a bloody handprint on the floor. With his left hand he pulls a white handkerchief from his pocket and wipes his forehead before continuing. With a quickness belying his age he brings his hand down upon the primary rune, and before he can see its results he is already up and running for the exit. But not fast enough. The chamber groans and shudders as the red runes flare and try to contain what comes from the celestial box. It explodes, sending white hot shrapnel to crash against Naeregons protections, and into Stamos’s knee. He falls to the ground, 20 ft short of the exit clutching it. Inside the box…is darkness. A pure, twisting darkness that has suddenly been awakened. Something inside the daek coils and tenses, and the human’s eyes turn from his wound to stare at this…thing that sucks light and seems be…aware of him. Like a cobra’s strike a black tentacle shoots from the center and wraps around Stamos’s leg. He manages a meek, “Oh my” before being pulled with a wail into the center of the beast. An unpleasant crunching sound accompanies a few quieter screams for a minute. Finally the darkness begins to shrink, and the tentacles withdraw back to their master who rises from the ground to his full height, 1 foot 3 inches. Bilo Darkleaf stretches, and yawns, cracks a few fingers and belches before turning to face Naeregon, who says nothing but wears a disapproving expression. “Eh, what’s this? Oh. He was one of yours aye?” Bilo belches again. Then digs into his pocket and pulls out a single crumpled cigarette. A small black flame curls out of his tiny index finger and lights it. “My mistake. Feels like I aint had a bite to eat in months. Anyway, he’ll be back good as new. If we goanna keep that fricken Gnome around he might as well make himself useful.” Naeregon roles his eyes…just a little. “Aye f*** you man! I didn’t get ‘cocky’! That green b**** is trying to raise herself an army, and being pretty fricken successful at it too. She’d probably have a little better luck too-” Bilo breaks off hear with a high pitched titter. “If her lieutenants stopped being found all flayed to hell and back again.” Another laugh follows. Naeregon simply shakes his head a little. “Hey. I got my methods. You got yours. I’m just trying to keep morale down. Anyways, captured or not, you wouldn’t believe what I picked up on.” Naeregon archs one eyebrow. For whatever reason this makes Bilo apoclectic “F*** YOU VULPUS! DON’T YOU EVER F****** PATRONIZE ME OR I WILL TEAR YOU TO F****** PIECES. YOU MIGHT KILL ME BUT I [/I]GUARANTEE[/I], I WILL TAKE AT LEAST ONE EYE WITH ME! The two of them, separated by a ridiculous amount of height and very little in the way of morality stare at each other for an uncomfortable amount of time. “But that aint important. I got sources you don’t is all. And something’s getting shook up on gladiator row. High up. Naeregon stares at Bilo, eyebrows slightly raised. “Nope. Higher.” Naeregon’s eyes grow ever so slightly wider. “No. Higher then that. Finally Naeregon’s mouth falls open…perhaps half a centimeter. “Yep. The sponsors.” Naeregon closes his mouth and strokes his chin, plans and contingencies forming and discarding at inhuman rates. “I’ll say this; I aint sure about the details but what I do know, I don’t like. The Snarks out. Whoever he was he did all right by me, near as I can tell. Maybe others too I aint sure. And it looks like this…this Cat Thing is up. I don’t know what he’s got planned but I do know he’s pulling the strings on our mutual green aquaintence. Nearegon breaths in sharply…and then out again nodding as he does. “My thoughts exactly. Looks like our fair Gladius will be going through some changes, and we’re gonna need some extra bodies. Competent types at that. And I was thinking about…that snake chick, whats-her-face. Naeregon smiles briefly. It does not reach the eyes. “Yeah I thought you’d like that. She’s efficient yeah? Don’t like to play with her food as much” There’s that laugh again. “Unlike some.” Naeregon nods. “Right I think that’s everything on my end, oh and if I didn’t mention it before, thanks for springing me from Celestia, I bet that took some work and-” Bilo pauses, hearing faint footsteps coming quickly down the stairs. The oak door creeks open and a boy, maybe 15, steps into the light, holding a candle and adjusting his tie. “Father? Are you there? Mother was worried and you weren’t…in the shop…” his voice peters out as he sees exactly what it is he is addressing. “F-F-Father?” Bilo Darkleaf’s eyes light up-a dark blood-like hued-as he smiles “Ah. Desert.” The committee would like to formally extend an invitation to one of Gladius’s foremost citizens, Toreilison Wevlun. Time and again she has proven herself a well mannered and conscientious member of our comunity. Her insight into the assault on personal freedom would be greatly appreciated as well as her…negotiation techniques. Please RSVP at your earliest convienance.
Magagumo 05-14-04, 12:12 AM	Toreilision stalked through the night streets, the chill air all but forgotten as her clawed feet, nestled within lambskin boots, slapped against the cobblestones. Her stomach was full of dark dwarf, but then again, a serpent is never quite full, and thus the Lady Wevlun searched for a quick bite.. or three. No luck tonight, for by now all the townsfolk had heard of the body's discovery. Yes, it seemed that two tolls after dawn, the ever-vigilant Moon-moon had discovered the broken body of Dusk, the half-dragon, his flesh torn and his blood spilt. It appeared the killer had even taken a souvenier, marring Dusk's once-perfect form with the removal fo his left horn. Of course, the death of a Celestial Champion held only passing interest in the predatorial mind of Toreilison,; snakes only rarely ate lizards, and she was exceptionally careful when it came to dragonkin- their elemental ancestory led to painful indigestion. However, the townsfolk had been terrified by the death within the ranks of Gladius's protectorate, and remained indoors, fearful of the vile things which crawled the slick streets in the new moon's dark light. Which brings us back to Toreilison's activities. With each shutter and door bound and locked, it looked to be an early night for the Lady, until she spied a young lad peering through the latticed windows of a darkened shop. He was human, tall but lanky, not filled out by age but still potentially tender with what baby fat was left on him- Tori's mouth began to water, if just a bit. The boy seemed not to notice the yuan-ti in the night streets, her lithe form melding into the shadows like the wraiths of legend and ghost stories. Soon, his cherubic face disappeared from the window, apparently disappointed by what he did or did not see. Tori crept closer, slinking across the cobblestones and reaching for the knob. To her surprise, the door was not locked, but was even ajar!! Resisting the urge to climb in, she pushed the oaken door to allow ingress, and found it to be a small shop, Stamos and Sons by name. Her eyes picked through the gloom, greys, blacks and whites filling her world as her heat-sensitive eyes gathered the layout of the office. Footsteps, soft and distant, caught her attention and drew her forward down wet stone stairs into a forbidding cellar. She crept quietly but quickly, drawn now by a delicious and familiar odor- Blood. As her pace quickened, her nostrils flared with the scent, and she hurried down the stairs, two and three at a time, hunger and bloodlust overwhelming caution. At last! Only 20' from her, illuminated in soft, yellow light and completely unawares stood the boy. Hers for the taking!! But it was not meant to be, a shriek rose from the boy, he spun and quivering eyes saw the woman. In a rush he fled towards her, as if for comfort, shelter, and safety, but a rustling sound echoed from the adjacent room, black tentacles snaring the boy as his fingertips just grazed her tunic. He yelped in fright and pain, and before her eyes, he was torn away from her through the open doorway. Her eyes widened, Toreilision began to tremble, barely noticeably, then VIOLENTLY!! That was hers!! She rushed into the next room, black blade drawn to hack at the rubber limbs that might hold the still squirming snack. She would not be denied! Instead, to even the indomitable snake-woman's surprise, there was no tentacled beast, nor juicy boy. Instead there was a candle, a desk, a man, and an imp. The man appeared the most likely candidate for the violent tendencies still racking Tori's frame, but he seemed entirely unawares of the ongoing situation, slowly penning obscure and unknown thoughts into an open journal. Tori glanced about, searching the shadows for the beast, but her eyes and thoughts were inevitably drawn back to the imp, especially after he withdrew a small bone from his ghoulish lips and tossed it, skittering, across the floor. She glared balefully at him. "HOW DARE YOU!," she raged, "I trekked down her for that snack, and you stole him!" She paused for a moment, considereing the imp's tiny size, and the general bredth of the now-devoured boy "... but how exactly did you do that?" Toreilison may have been brutal, vicious, violent, and vile, but she was no fool. If the tiny imp had so easily devoured the boy, he might cause her great harm before she slew him. Best to learn and observe patiently, not letting the hot blood that still boiled within her stomach get the best of her. The imp merely sniggered, and resumed smoking on a cigarette as large as his own forearm, holding it carefully with two slender hands. "By the virtue of his own depravity, Miss Wevlun," spoke the man at the desk. "Mr. Darkleaf has just returned from a long trip to a place that you would not be likely to indulge in. I hear the lakes of the Second Layer of the Mount are lovely this time of year, but we "wicked ones" rarely recieve the full tour. 'Wicked Ones?' Toreilison had begun to mull over the phrase, spoken in the Abyssal tongue, breaking it down and turning it about as she considered the full implications of the words. Within the minute, her sharp mind had captured its essence, realizing the connections of the words to similar tones in her own native tongue- the language of betrayal, snakes, and verbal venoms. Indeed, it was said that no other language but Abyssal could describe the constellation of methods by which to inflict harm on another, nor could any tongue best describe the glittering arc of blood and vital fluids that followed the slashing fo the sacrificial knife... From Abyssal, so many of the "evil races" had derived their own speech, and the Yuan-ti were no exception. It was said that the yuan-ti were men bred with snakes, and that the whole of their existence rested on the disturbed connivances of a lone Demon Prince, a reptilian paragon of cruelty and relentless hunger. A creature whose insistent and vile investigations into the malleable forms of humanity had granted the yuan-ti both their lives, and their deity. Indeed, Merrshaulk had reaped many rewards for his efforts, ascending to godhood within the abyssal jungles of his layer. And he was hardly alone, for many vile beasts owed servitude and life to a former Demon Prince- gnolls, beholders, and it was whispered that even Grummsh had been a Lord of the Abyss... Processing all of this information, Toreilison quickly gathered the immense evil, for no other word best described what the man must be, that sat at the desk before her, a lone eyebrow raised at her intrusion. With a gasp, she dropped to bended knee, gaze steadily ignoring the giggling imp as she supplicated herself before the Demon Prince, Naergon Vulpus. "Dark Lord, I beg you, as a representaive of the Children of Merrshaulk, allow me to join your order and serve under you. I will not stalk these streets, alone, without serving you, Vile One, for even we serpents recognize our own predators, and I would seek a thousand deaths at the blades of the Celestial Forces than one at your own hands." Toreilison glanced up, hoping that she had correctly recalled the words taught to her at her second Nesting Day. Words that were said to be the only barrier between life and death at cruel claws and foul magic. The yuan-ti were a produ and intelligent race, but even they knew when to serve. Bilo could no longer contain his amusement. Giggling almost uncontrollably, he glanced back and forth between Naergon and the obviously shaken yuan-ti, beedy black eyes drinking the scene in greedily. "Look at this, Naergon, we say her name and she appears! Heh, can't beat that with a nail-studded board...." Bilo seemed to consider this prospect further, but any other comments were left unsaid, as the dark man spoke "Accepted" Tori blinked, curious at the single response but frightened to question it. She slowly stood, gazing warily at the seated man as she rose. Words would not come to the oft-graceful yuan-ti's lips, too stunned by the dark revelations of the evening. Sparing a small moment to glare at the terrible imp, she walked swiftly from the darkened chamber. Her mind raced like that of a warm-blooded mammal- for one swift moment, the predator had been the prey, and Tori had been terriified. But she still lived, she still breathed, and now she served an ancient Dark Master.
Naeregon Vulpus 05-14-04, 12:34 AM	How splendid. Now if you don't mind I really must finish this correspondance. Dear Harmonious Jade, You must know How I've missed you. Your fiesty moods and dead on insights. Think you perhaps we can set aside new made rivalries and go back to our old commentary jobs? Not as extended thing, I suspect we are both two busy for that, but at least once. Just to show we've still got the knack, aye what? -NV
cellardweller 06-15-04, 11:43 PM	A strange letter arrives at Stamos and sons: Dear Mr Stamos, I have been keeping an eye on the local economic situtation of late and it doesn't seem like a good time to be an accountant. The heavens have not deemed us worthy of rain this season and you know how poor harvests can drive up inflation. If this were not bad enough, the step down of logging in Gladius' forests has made parchment more valuable than gold. I can only imagine how this is affecting your bottom line. How is any of this my business? I could ensure the heavens were too busy elsewhere to be denying anyone rain. I also know of some wonderful sub-contractors that could see to your client's logging needs. Either of these could be made available for your disposal, for a fee of course. Should you decide to take me up on my offer, I can be contacted at the Raven's headquarters. I look forward to your response. Yours Sincerely, Johan Talyana
cellardweller 06-16-04, 12:29 AM	<stupid boards>